#shb verse tbt.

[starsfreckled]

  @unmeiha asked : ❝ that is the most dangerous and irresponsible thing i have ever heard. ❞ ( sentence meme // accepting ).

“more dangerous than fighting primals and armies?” amaya raises an eyebrow at the other au ra before offering her a bright and reassuring grin ( so truly, koharu had every reason to not trust their decision ). 

the two warriors of light ( or currently, warriors of darkness ) continue their way with koharu still wearily looking at every item that gets added into amaya’s bags - it seems her friend is set on buying at least one example of every dish one could find in mord souq, that alone could be cause for concern, it is not hard to imagine the other scions reactions:

thancred looking less than pleased but heroically accepting his fate, ryne trying to remain positive because she would not want to hurt her friends feelings and they brought all this back for them. urianger seeing this as some form of research and trying at least everything once - the twins bickering. y’shtola’s calm demeanor as she turns towards koharu and amaya, that smile on her face as she asks ‘did I not send you here to get me some stuff I need for my spells?’ and amaya just replying with a grin ‘sure. and since you want to be all witchy like matoya, I figured I’d get you your frog legs and all the other spooky things that an old witch might need!’ 

amaya can see koharu shaking her head, as if trying to get rid of the visions of all the ‘what ifs’ that might happen after they deliver this food back to the group and in an offended voice they hear her say “much worse! I’d rather fight a primal than telling y’shtola you wasted all her gil on this... I don’t want to spend the entire day as a toad, amaya!”

[catleha]

     ‹  TO LEAVE THE WOODS & THROW HERSELF INTO YET ANOTHER FRAY; how heavy did that thought weight on her heart. -- to desert what she had clandestinely begun to call her lair, to abandon yet another family with naught but a weak smile worn upon trembling lips / knowing far too well that perhaps she would not be able to return [oh, you knew this would happen, did you not?]. ‘twas a woeful little thought / a parallel leisurely drawn to yet another person always disappointed; left behind despite good reason. Through death & sudden disappearance, through ruining the prospect of a life outside the scions [dare to ask your sister for forgiveness, you have broken your promises yet again]. -- were the Night’s Blessed thus not another necessary sacrifice on a path to save this world? 

       Teeth set, jaw aching under evoked pressure / she broods, as per usual, blind glance cast elsewhere; pulse throbbing at the back of her skull / thoughts a jumbled mess; fatigued, yet again, but not willing to pause. Remember, remember: the aetherial realm, extending / one’s very body as light as a feather feeling as if at home. -- mayhaps her very conscience yearned to finally reunite with the stream / to give up this quest, this life. Why... you are already cutting ties to abandon all those once held dear. Perhaps their final journey would end in tears -- perhaps not. 

      ❛ I have doubts. ❜ 'twas a sudden exclamation, muttered while the rest of their entourage had begun to busy themselves elsewhere. The urge to protect esteemed other appeared overbearing [obviously so, given how his condition was evident even now] & yet she could not help but voice what dared to halt her very breath / they would not listen, they would continue to prolong the inevitable / ignore the very threat in their midst on the exarch’s command! ❛ Why, the Twelve know I have not set foot onto Crystarium’s grounds for over a year. What little value I have is best put to use here. -- I would be but in the way, I warrant. ❜    @ninseng​ / starter call

[eisenblade]

@crystaliiize​

"Why are you trying to protect this world so much? It isn't your own... is it?" Truly, he was more than a little confused over the nature of the other man, but his aether didn't seem to originate from Hydaelyen herself.

“Unbending” pauses for a moment, in the slight fear he had done something to give himself away. For how else could one know, with the Transform Staff having altered the appearance of his body?

... But he forgets this is not exactly an ordinary dweller of this world. He knows of the nature of this world, of the Source and its shards, for one. And for another... he is rather sensitive to “aether” (though Olberic knows little and less of magic, far less one of a world still rather foreign to him).

He is tempted to ask what gave it away... But decides against such. He will just have to hope that his trust will not be misplaced in G’raha.

“ ... An odd question to come from the man who fought so hard to save a world that was not his own himself. The First, was it not? ” Arms cross gently, needing to be somewhere other than his sides for at least a moment, and he shakes his head a little with the ghost of a sad smile forming in the corners of his lips. (Ghosts. Always ghosts. Olberic has too many of those, really). “ But I would not be so rude as to deny you an answer. ‘Tis because I swore an oath, and have the means to protect people in ways others do not. ”

Another pause, the accursed spectres are threatening to strangle him.

“ To allow such a thing to go to waste is selfish. And besides... I have no world of my own to return to, really. ”

There are other worlds with Orsterra on them, of course. Other worlds with the Highlands, Cobbleston, or even worlds where Hornburg still stands... But they are not his.

And nor can he run from that truth.

[catleha]

✧. Alisaie

For @catleha

"What... is it like?" Alisaie folded her legs beneath her and closed her eyes. How else would she even hope to possibly understand Y'shtola's state of being? Years of study and practice had made her able to work the Aether around her... but absolutely nothing she had encountered in books or practice could inform her like sinpky asking.

"Could you describe it to me? It does not need to be poetic; I just... want to know." And maybe, sitting in the forest, beneath the canopy that provided Blessed Darkness, she might learn.

    ‹  TO BE HONEST & TRUE IN MATTERS SO PERSONAL; a notion she had learned to loathe for all the right reasons, naturally. As sincere as Alisaie usually was, she managed to strike quite the sore spot out of what? Genuine concern, nay, certain curiosity most likely. -- pray, what is it like? Never once had she wagered to ask herself such a question / to compare prior sight to the everlasting blackness that dulled her senses even now seemed but self-injuring. Aye, it prompted a pang in her chest; an ache as vividly felt as a blade caught between the ribs. -- what is it like? Suffocating; as if all color had been drained from a vision once so bright / to not recall the very details of beloved comrades’ faces, clothes, figurines / to forget the shape of own ears, the markings in her fur, the color of dear Lyse’s eyes; to not even know how Urianger could possibly look like without his googles or mask; to be stranded / stuck, with keepsakes held oh so dear fading, merrily joining hands with the void that would one day swallow everything a whole. -- Alisaie’s was a genuine, perhaps compassionate request, a token of courage / concern / trust & yet all a witch could reckon was prying pity.

      ❛ 'tis ... quite the query, Alisaie. ❜  oh, her voice betrays what calm countenance would otherwise mask. There is a tremble evident in her very retort, the furrowing of thin brows / grief swelling within her chest. Nay, she dips the chin, glare falling elsewhere. -- what is it like? Harrowing; she dreamt no more, had fallen victim to numerous attempts to jolt faltering memory; there was nothing poetic about matters so grim, nay, naught at all.❛ Given aethers’ lacking capacity to display more than a throbbing mass, most details seem to elope me. A plant, a cloak’s button I cannot possibly fathom what it might look like; what is its color, its very build ?❜

      To be heartfelt suited her ill; the very idea of being a subject to worry doing much to trigger disdain. [why, you are undeserving]. -- seconds pass without further continuation, without a single sound passing her very lips. Aye, she thinks long & hard, to find the right words / to mutter a respond that would satisfy whatever inquisitiveness the other harbored while keeping own agony well concealed. Lo, a sigh, lips pressed into a tight line. ❛ I find myself reminiscent of the past more so of what little I can recall to give a form to what I encounter. Needless to say, many of my recollections are awfully dated. ❜

[catleha]

@scionsect asked: "I adore thee too, Y’shtola." another drabble nobody asked for.

   ‹  HOW ODD & UNEXPECTED; yet certainly neither ignored nor frowned upon. Nay, own days of spite & nagging whenever one wagered to EXPRESS some form of affection towards her had long passed. The witch was many things but nothing close to immature. – a ‘stubborn mule’, mayhap, ever prone to deny & defy, alas, but quite frankly a creature simply soothed by those she had begun to call “her dearest”. The astronomer belonged to these chosen few; why, she had found in him someone beyond measure / an ally / trusted friend midst this oh so hostile lot. Perhaps it was inane, to thus permit him to see aspects of a fractured identity that others never dared to even THINK about. To allow HIM to sense the very disruption oh so evident in the way the hooded sage would oft carry herself; anguished, pained by something that invested limb & mind alike. Aye, the lifestream had always been both a culprit & a source of power. – truly, it had unlocked layers upon layers of FORBIDDEN MAGIC one of her scholarly kind had eagerly studied only to NOW wield the fruits of her labor [’tis a sacrifice more like; grim & horrid & wrecking]; both did… to a degree. 

     Mayhap this was the sole reason why trust had, first & foremost, been established, why one allowed him to lay hand on wounds she could no longer mend herself / to combat aether procured fatigue – to admit that prior prowess had been scorched & charred; eyes naught but a piteous mess of brightened white. Say, do you still consider your loss of sight as a suitable punishment for foolery & failure?

    He ever so vehemently disagreed.

       ❛ none of that mush, Urianger, ‘tis does little more than coerce me to question my decisions in all matters personal. ❜ 'twas again, a mere scold. – though she kept herself from lashing out [aye, a witch had indeed mastered the art of ACCEPTING compliments & the likes], she ought to chide him more, to grab whatever sentiment loomed yonder & pluck it out; destroy what little love others felt for a being so utterly beyond being worthy of such, chastise what could be seen as naught but an error. Why, who could feel anything but disdain for a wild girl turned mage turned woman turned sinner, driven to dip head & toe into forbidden wells & complain the very moment she began to drown? -- oh, young had she been & harebrained / condemn yourself for messing with forces too vast to be simply learned & look upon him with but a pained smile, a trembling bottom lip, trying your utmost not to burst into tears --  nay, this would not do. 

     To be so sentimental was naught but a blunder / to pay any heed to his brotherly affection would prove her downfall. For it was easy to conceal worry & grief & self-loathe when being observed from a distance merely muttering objections to yet another of Thancred’s foolhardy plans. Letting none of them know about the ache coursing through her veins akin to molten metal, scorching insides & skin / wrecking the body she oh so lovingly exposed to most dire conditions, was the least she could do to contribute to their heroic acts; a thought that made the scar etched into her very breast itch. -- ah, own sins had robbed her physical form of years already, alas there was no way to prevent the inevitable -- again, aetherial sight & the powers at her disposal demanded more than she could give & oh, was she too haughty, too prideful, too self-depriving & selfless to ask for help.

     ❛ pray, if your adoration is that vivid, use it to lend me a hand. – ❜ there, shifting in her seat, tattered cloak draped across slim shoulders, the sage simply exhales; allows a petite sigh to pass parted lips. To feign displeasure, nay, vexation mayhaps, no matter how out of place it seemed. After all, there was no one here but them; cordially close, fingers running across ancient pages, succumbing to their favorite pastime. Dearest Urianger, words could not express what his very presence meant -- probably never would. He knew, perhaps, that her respond meant naught more than a soft affirmation veiled behind one’s inability to be blunt in such matters. -- peculiar, she thought, for what was bluntness if not one of her trademarks?  ❛ aye, ‘tis a passage I cannot decipher, I am afraid. ❜

     Cue glance’s ascent, blind eyes gazing into his very direction. Exhaustion had turned his form into a pulsating mass of glimmering aether, languidly dispersing, only to reappear at the corner of her sight. Aye, fatigue clung to her, as per usual, threatening to claim what little was left of her ability to stay alert & awake. The strength to defy his genuine camaraderie had long waned, leaving unexpressed sentiments lingering beneath the surface; willing to seize the moment, to spill forth & shatter the very facade one had so carefully built. Oh, a compromise then, show him but a little; grant him the affection he undoubtedly deserves.

     Lo, a  smile, heartfelt this time, devoid of sass & pragmatism. ‘twas a gentle gesture [rare, indeed], an unspoken invitation to move closer / an unvoiced confession, a long dreaded demand for aid pressed into a whisper / tone brimming with subtle resentment for no one but herself.  ❛ be my eyes, if you will. ❜ 

[catleha]

 @hyethla asked: falls asleep on her desk aka a depressing drabble nobody asked for.

  ‹  THERE WAS A SOFTNESS INSIDE HER; oft disregarded, set aside as if meant to fade & wither. Sparsely had she openly shown signs of a more mellow composure, something beyond the rough demeanor of a hardened scholar raised in a cave; ‘twould seem she was someone oh so in love with chiding words & a certain scorn, following in old matron’s footsteps oh so indignantly. Yet sometimes one could not help but surrender; a blink, a mere string of syllables muttered underneath her very breath: requesting help, leaning onto a dear friend’s shoulder. Oh, such moments were rare & brilliant in their subtlety -- clandestine, softest palm set against pugilist's very arm to express concern / an embrace shared with her dear astrologist after being saved from ash & cinder -- prone to bursts of compassion, expressed in her very peculiar way; admitting defeat, mourning the loss of so much / seemingly so little. 

      Oh, only two have ever borne witness to a more mild-mannered side; an astronomer, ever so delicately building the most unlikely camaraderie forged midst a raging forest fire & the desire to find someone to confide in. A healer, just like she once had been with a gift, however, not blighted by crude persona / whatever darkness dwelt within. -- why, Urianger’s very words never ceased to remedy what own doubt tempted to tear apart. The second was someone regarded with mayhaps a bit too much cordiality -- Lyse, an even more unlikely companion; pondering day & night about her whereabouts & well-being, as if one’s very existence was enough to threaten the lives of those she had chosen to love. What else could one of her kind do but worry, those that had died had mainly been hers to doom. -- perhaps that had been the sole reason for their unlikely bond; the agony felt over the loss of another. && through one would have never admitted anything similar: both, Papalymo & Minfilia had left a hole, a gaping void; ‘twas only herself she ought to blame for the demise of the latter. 

         Now & forevermore, it seemed.

      Memories oft lingered on that very day; seething light, own voice drowned by the very rumble heard above. -- flow. Oh, had she but known the repercussions of that wretched spell. Had she but known that next to the rogue she ought to save, yet another had been cast into the lifestream only to be grasped & used. Lost & forlorn, too far beyond an archon’s reach. && upon awakening, upon being torn out of a dreamless slumber, what numbness had overcome heart & soul both? This foreboding sentiment of something sinister / this excruciating feeling of uncertainty? Something had not been quite right, something no longer in place. -- pray, recall the anxiety / the panic / the paralyzing realization that one had PAID; for what, she could not tell alas alas, now she knew. 

    Blind eyes could not decipher the details of her unwelcomed guest's clothes, hair or stature, could not determine what the child’s motives had been ere drifting off. Yet ears could decipher a quiet little ‘snore’; most gentle breath, the minuscule rustle of accessories dragged across the wooden surface. The girl had most likely exhausted herself, had studied whatever ancient tome she had wagered to haul onto the sage’s own desk. -- inclined to sort papers & parchments, trying so desperately to be of use. For but a moment, a witch would remain, scorched gander cast above the oracle’s very head; drifting, yet again in keepsakes long forgotten. Aye, ‘twas a familiar sight. Yet in her memories ‘twas a woman hunched over her desk, asleep with her face resting upon latest paperwork; remember: usually beatific features twisted into some somber mien, with brows furrowed & petite wrinkles there to cast drab shadows across an otherwise juvenile visage. Never had younger self dared to disturb; why, the antecedent had had a tendency to hardly rest; not before all work was done. Always laboring, quarreling, intermingling. -- ears twitch, lids flutter. Remember, remember: you have been acquaintances, comrades, fellow scions bound by the will to protect & serve a greater good.

     Alas upon rogue & oracle’s arrival, there had been no love for a child bearing the name Minfilia of the First, no recollection, no merry moment meant to prompt some heartfelt reunion. Adamant & unforgiving, had MASTER MATOYA not but turned on her very heel, solemnly cursing what dear friends had dragged into her lair. What was this thing but a pawn cast out of Hydalyn’s maw; a mere trick, a carbon copy meant to manipulate & deceive. A common cause meant to anchor them to this wretched world. Torture! Naught but a crude joke with an aether as bright as the First’s original sin. -- & yet times had changed; here a girl oh so eager to please, to see the good in people, to be seen as someone else. 

     Seconds pass, ticking on & on ‘till craned neck grew stiff. ‘twas a cruel sentiment, destiny’s bitter hand dealt & taken. A curse, a horrid quip; an ache so palpable she could not ignore it no matter how much one attempted; to bury it alongside former self / to adjust & cease to trace the scar deeply craved into her very chest. Naught but a spectre, chained to the sins of yesteryear. -- what are you, if not a woman turned stone to bear & bear forevermore for the sake of those you have learned to love more than your very self? Again & again predestined to sacrifice yourself ‘till final breath would leave parted lips. Brushing loss aside akin to a common bruise. Predestined to stand tall, to be the voice of wisdom, of reason, of strength found in the most sullen of nights; to pave the way for THEIR WARRIOR OF LIGHT. && never falter, never break for those they could yet save.  -- o, all this came over her in this very moment, haunting, clawing at her very heart. All this & more, all this & ceaseless worry / guilt / most bitter regret. An old, bleeding wound; a knife stuck / grown between her ribs torn out by a girl who was as innocent as she was guilty.

     There, a witch moves, slender hand reaching for the very cloak she never forgot to don. A gallant motion dispatched that tattered thing ere yet another followed aether sight’s guiding hand. Clumsily would she drape the cloth over other’s slumbering body, her shoal glimmer briskly brightening an otherwise blackened field of vision before vanishing ever so slightly. 

     Lo, a witch moves once more / freed from prior stupor, eager to continue the same evening routine [ever sleepless]. Fleeing her study, eloping into the sheltering night. To not return ‘till Urianger would wake the oracle in the morrow, parting ways with the Night’s Blessed sage once more. Without a word, without a second glance; running, hiding [hypocrite] midst whispering winds & roots & everything wild; to again permit herself a moment of solitude / weakness, to allow frenzied mind to return to its former work. -- turning to stone whilst ears listened to the soft buzzing of the Greatwood’s nocturnal life. 

[catleha]

      random asks that make me cry ft. @ninseng​

  ‹  HOW HE FOUND THE SERENITY TO REST WAS BEYOND HER; ever torn between good & evil / desire & responsibility / finding repose & having to walk yet another mile. Drums of war heavy in his mind akin to a second heartbeat. -- oh, ‘twas what she always dared to assume. A mere being pushed into the role of a savior; torn out of whatever life he once had called his own. BROKEN DOWN only to be REBORN; coerced to submerge in fate’s crushing waves & swim against the current again & again. -- mayhaps she was reading more into his every act than one could justify; perhaps he had been born to do what he now ever so willingly did. Oblivious to impending doom in his drive to save & protect & find a way of standing against the tides of misfortune. -- they both were, nay? Could this be the sole reason why she tolerate his presence / why she COULD tolerate his presence when almost anyone else did little more than increase the pressure on mind & soul? Aye, ‘twas but a simple gesture of trust; the weight of a head against her shoulder; but oh, what had she done to merit this faith / this benevolence / this gentleness? She, undeserving. She, full of flaws that had cost them more than she could ever hope to redeem?

       For but a moment, tension spreads / waning sight registering but a flutter, a fraction of the blight the other boldly carried. -- it hurt. To SEE how it threatened to consume & devour. To do naught but rest whilst raw aether burnt within his very chest / an ever-raging taint scorching all that was good & righteous in a man so full of courage. Would that she could / grasp & shake & scream. Why won’t you listen? 

      Oh, are you not a hypocrite? Seated next to Lunae after yet another battle, yet another quarrel that could not be avoided whilst your very magic cauterizes holes into your very flesh? Nay, ‘twas not her place to wallow in self-pity / WALK IT OFF. -- Lightwarden, abomination, a monstrosity slumbering underneath comrade’s very skin. -- restless, ever working / studying / unable to simply rest & yet tired, oh so tired. -- nay, they had miles to go before they could sleep, had they not? Both able to trace decay in their very own bones; how could he hold on while  her very mind had begun to fall apart? 

        Ears twitch; listen to a simple in- & exhale. Calming, almost. -- soothing. How could she know? Having spent most of her time repelling those who begged to be close. Brows knit; there was no need to turn the head, no need to blink. Seconds pass, the strain on muscles abating ever so delicately. Tolerate it, just this once. -- you are safe. 

[catleha]

     ‹  HEAT HAD A WAY OF CRAWLING ACROSS THE SKIN; leaving soot & a taste of regret in its wake. Blackened ash & dry / dead earth, scorched beyond recognition; it brought forth a certain serenity, a peculiar sense of harmony found in dancing flame / its pristine flicker. -- a tranquility that wind & stone could not offer; a bright, aethereal imprint / a searing cascade of rawest aether flashing in front of pale eyes. Or mayhap ‘twas conclusiveness: once burnt, naught could bring matter back to life.

       Staff’s weight mattered little; even in full swing / even mid-cast / even if muscles seemed sore & waves of fought opponents unyielding. One could never make out details, could neither recognize shape nor form / she felt their presence, distorted energy twisting beyond steady feet; pulsating, aching, SCREAMING in the back of heavy head. -- aye, deem it a pointless endeavor, call it redundant if you wish & yet it was all the two of them had left next to their very company. -- cue the abrupt ascent of left, steady hand [its tremor kept a secret] to extinguish what wrathful spell-casting had wrought. 

       ❛  the worst seems over lest I refuse to rely on probabilities alone. ❜ – blind glance drifts, remnants of aether dissolving leaving naught but blackness alongside mere traces of bare trees & soil. O, lifestream’s gift had become more fleeting day by day / own energy oft waning, leaving sinews stiff & breath short. ‘twas inevitable, one knew & yet denial was a powerful tool. -- there, watch a pair of idle fingers reach for tattered hood / voice rather stoic, dulled by traces of reluctance. Aye, as if the following words were an assault on her very own pride.  ❛ be my eyes. ❜ @scionsect ./ SC.

[catleha]

   ‹  REMEMBER, REMEMBER: TO NEVER TRUST; to not indulge in old leader’s oh so inane nativity -- the antecedent’s once most striking trait, nay? How often had it led to some form of quarrel; say, what did she preach? To see the LIGHT in people, to favor second chances, blindly throwing oneself into some political crossfire out of the desire to do good ere realizing that mayhaps one had indeed erred gravely. ‘twas a curious keepsake, a more cynical kind of retrospection; why, while resting, a grim glance cast towards the other she could not help but think back to the other only “leading figure” the sage had ever sworn to follow. Aye, ever driven to work alone & alone only, someone prone to a socially inept & ever so hash demeanor could not help but REFUSE to merely nod & smile. -- teeth set, thoughts about dearest Urianger’s very ‘betrayal’ enough to spark a cold fury within. Brittle & ever grim, she had chosen displeasure over tolerating what had been plotted behind her back. 

        Lo & behold, the CRYSTAL EXARCH; a schemer, aye, yet she found it hard to clarify what other role he played. Even now / CERTAINLY now that harm had been done & matters had been revealed. 

       nay, he did not deserve a single friendly thought --  a witch knew better than to forgive & forget; in a blighted world filled with corruption & dishonesty, a world in which fellow scions [family?] wagered to plainly BELIEVE, she had decided to object. Urianger had made his most disgraceful choice & would mayhaps do so again & the girl ... oh how it plagued her still; to recognize the path own haughty self had once wandered, unable to quench or halt her impending doom [to think one can shoulder the world alone]. Aye, eyes' lack of color, shape & form reminded her day by day; blunt & unforgiving. 

     ❛ you called for me despite my warnings. ❜ cue a pause. 'twas rare to see her visibly vexed; arms crossed, ears lowered as if meant to impose a threat. She had learnt to veil own pondering & mood perfectly well; none of her kin knew what amounts she had began to simply bury [for their warrior’s sake]. -- alas there was no need for such politeness now; let him know, oh let him SEE. ❛  ‘twas Urianger you ever so shrewdly twisted around your finger, was it not? Why, never once did I assay to hide my distaste for your very being, exarch. -- what could you possibly seek? Pray, enlighten me. ❜  @fatefuture

[catleha]

Teeth are grinding together, palms clasping over her ears in a pained manner. "It's... So bright..." she whispered quietly, knees colliding with the ground below. "How do you do it? I... I can't-...!"

     ‹  WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WISH TO DO; ‘twas a question oft asked / internally, whilst remaining hidden in the coves of the Greatwood, as if idle thoughts & racing ideas could deliver the very answer one oftentimes sought. Aye, to seek some wicked kind of redemption [for what, I wonder], despite being considered too rough,always too reckless, too socially inapt, they say. Oh, what had happened eons ago became dire reality whenever SHE was around. All the words never said / promises never kept & affection never shown to people that perhaps cared too deeply. –  remember, remember: Minfilia residing inside their study, seated in front of a naive LOUD MOUTHED fool, trying her utmost to talk some sense into this stubborn teen. Blunt, because she had never learned respect / harsh, because she had never learned softness; marked by the very woman that had failed so tremendously at raising her. By all means callous, such an avid lover of TOUGH LOVE. Aye, the kind a mother PATRON never ought to possess. 

     Cue a sigh, single hand set against young other’s very temple / ‘twas a routine the witch once wished to avoid which had, however, become a daily occurrence. This was a child burdened by something she had never learned to control. A higher force, a purpose given to her without consent [she never asked for it / ah, neither did I]: the cost had been high. && in one’s recognition, this gnarly sentiment of guilt & bitter ache so eager to twist her stomach into knots, the sage had begun to focus upon STABILIZATION rather than suppressing what even her advanced magic could hardly quench. – indeed, the aether coursing through this Minfilia’s veins was raw & untamed; unbearably similar to her very own, this throbbing mess of seething white carefully contained within own dark clad frame – aye, recall your arguments back in a realm so far gone. You but a ruthless thing / freshly cut off master’s very hand; pushed into this blinding world, suddenly independent, suddenly an archon supposed to listen to this GIRL & do their bidding.

       ‘ if I had but known where out paths will lead, I would have been more gentle / more understanding / helpful / kind.

     ‹  ❛ one day, you will. ❜ spoken words left her lips in a tone so much more coarse than desired; her voice twisted in some form of suppressed grief. The fiery kind, coated in this typically calm & collected shell. Ah, chiding, more like. Perhaps a form of tough love that the old matron had been oh so fond of.Fitting, now that the witch bore foster mother’s name. -- ‘Would that I could tell you how’. Alas, own training had been dolorous & hardly planned. The kind  that had given birth to many scars earned in one’s quest to PROTECT & ignore own health’s merry descent. Pray, do you even know how to control the ebb & flow of this earth’s strange memories, the very twitch in every once gentle [now unbearable] gush of wind? The clamor of a thousand drifting souls trapped between the life stream & the First? Oh, in Eorzea, one had never been exposed to THAT much. Mayhaps it had made the process more bearable / learning how to see again / how to cope / to trade color & shapes for angst & obscurity. There, lips curl ever so slightly, stern mien ironically mellowing under the weight of own, dire thoughts. – you mustn’t falter; she ought to say. To encourage, to ensure. To merely BE SOFT / aye, Minfilia deserves such warmth, does she not? Twelve know you have been cold for far too long, brittle, oh so eager to repel those that had wanted naught more than KINSHIP [why I am a creature of mistrust / of solitude / of own volition]. 

    ❛ 'tis grim but true. Moreso requires time, aye, and personal sacrifice no less. ❜ Minfilia’s aether stung; 'twas unyielding & unique enough to coerce own heart to hammer like a kettledrum [steady, steady. ‘tis but another cure, another medica, another benediction cast]. To stabilize poor other meant to burn the skin & singe own fur / an additional strain which she selflessly shouldered. Nobody saw the turmoil within, after all, & it was best kept that way. There, upon standing up, she drew the other to her feet. – watch the witch gesture to her chair [a faint glimmer in own aetherical sight], prompted fatigue too much to be borne standing. 

    ❛ I learned through rather onerous means. I would prefer to spare you of such. -- Have courage, and you shall see i through. ❜ She sits down, briskly blinking as if a single flutter could calm dwelling ache. – cue the spark of a withheld memory, condemned tears shed & blighting anger kept locked behind bared teeth. Remember, remember: the Minfilia you buried, mourning in solitude whilst the rest of the scions stood together. Be reminiscent of the pang in your chest, the feeling of emptiness spreading, only to fester. To herald the beginning of something deemed naught but horrid: to know that, in the end, she had felt a connection / why oh why, you failed them all. 

     Silence etched on, seconds passing whilst one merely pondered; what to do, how to progress – jaw set, softened expressions hardening ever so slightly. She required to further plan, to find a way to protect this girl [not her, not the woman you faced in the studies each day] as promised / as sworn. Aye, an enormous task / a riddle best solved when surrounded by shadows. – there, a click of the tongue, a wave of the hand; deny the dullness of senses sinking in. Deny the sentiment of self-loathe nestling in your chest. Nay, you need time, the time this girl might not have. Lo, blind eyes do not try to find her; nay, she glares, gaze fixated upon rows of books & parchment.  ❛ ‘twould be wise to rest. Mayhaps read. – go. Pray bother Urianger while you at it.  ❜

     why, you are but a creature of solitude, indeed.

[catleha]

  ‹  YEARS HAD LOST THEIR MEANING / TIME BUT A WORD; matters had become unbearable / solitude searched for one reason only. Those eager to keep secrets were deemed disposable, aye ... mayhap one could consider herself simply as detestable too [birds of a feather, aye, recall the mysteries you keep]. HYPOCRITE: a woman ever unwilling to delve into personal matters / to confront what lurked deep within; regret, worry, pure loathe. -- mayhap ‘twas for the better; to never return back to where they hailed from. Call it a new start, a chance to make amends. -- FOOL: a woman prone to recoil, falling back into treacherous habits / again consumed by an all too familiar ache.

     ❛  dread me all you like. ❜  ‘blast from the past’: lo, there a man. A companion once considered a friend / a brother / a hand held in turbulent times [recall all the things you STOLE / guilt, guilt, guilt!]. -- never would she admit it / how much heart had ached upon self-induced separation [to be torn apart again & again & again] his features had become a blur, sharp jaw & dark yet trusting eyes lost midst bouts of aether. Aye, remember, remember: how you have laid awake in the Rising Stones at night / painting petite pictures in your mind [never forget, she begs, never forget]. Say, does it matter now? Ghost in a shell, ever eager to prolong the inevitable.  ❛ 'tis quite immature to run from conflict akin to a child afraid of their mother’s scolding. -- you came here on your own accords thus I reckoned you would at least have the decency to be candid. ❜ 

     Cue a pause, scorched glance cast elsewhere. His aether was but dim / fluctuating all too unsteadily / winding under the weight of gruff introversion. How it plagued him so: hardened again, by loss & guilt as intensely felt as her very own pulse. && yet it was not pity one yielded to, alas, but rage. -- features twist, blind eyes narrowed in a disdainful glare; unyielding in her displeasure, arms folded in a manner that left no room for doubt. -- aye, speak of verities & ‘how-to-be-heartfelt’ as if own lies & idle excuses had not been just as dire.  ❛  'twould seem I was mistaken. ❜ @hisburden​, because we love to suffer.

[starsfreckled]

 @manigfeald​ asked :  ❝  you shouldn’t be alone right now.  i’ll take the couch,  it’ll be fine.  ❞ ((from emet for Amaya? UvU)) ( staying the night // selectively accepting ).

they struggle to see emet-selch’s silhouette - though the episode seems to slowly fade, whenever the light does act up, amaya simply collapses in pain. they have yet to scream, stubbornly trying to keep up the facade. one more. just one more lightwarden and then they will be done. all that is left afterwards is to get rid of all that light or simply deal with it - what is just a bit more pain but a laughable price for everyone else’s safety? 

under normal circumstances amaya would loathe to be seen this way by an ascian, him most of all. the man who had trampled over their life like a child running over some ants... he would not even be aware of the pain that he had brought to them.

...but this was not a normal situation and the raen desperately grabs emet-selch’s hand, shaking their head. “stay... please... it feels good when you are near” they slowly sit up, leaning forward and leaning their forehead against his shoulder. “I think... your shadows keep the light at bay” close. they wanted emet-selch to remain close to them, his presence felt like a cool breeze over their corrupted soul. how laughable that an ascian would be a remedy to this.

they remain sitting like this for a moment before sinking back into their pillows, pulling him along while one hand already tries to discard of his coat. “...do not worry, ascian. I have not forgotten about our arrangement. no attachment. but if I am already pathetic enough to ask of you to stay, we may as well make the most of it, don’t you agree?”