06-22-2020, 01:44 PM
The glimmer of a smile returned, and spilled into laughter. Eyes grey as the running waters crinkled pleasantly. “For your sake, I hope not.”
“The world is wonderfully strange, and not everything needs an answer.” Her fingers fluttered through the petals in her lap, letting them float slowly back to the earth where they rooted into the ground and sprung abundant. “I don’t know how long you will stay here. Either of you. Do you think you are asking the right questions, Marcus? Sometimes opportunities are missed because we spend too long wondering why they have been given to us.”
She unfolded and stood.
With the frozen snarl on his face, Malik almost reminded her of the basalt stone, though Tristan’s uncle was dead and his imprisonment little more than the laws of nature. Trolls were seldom good creatures either, but on the rare occasions Nimeda still visited the cottage she would sit at the stone’s base and speak to the essence within. Probably he considered that additional punishment rather than a comfort, or perhaps he did not care to listen at all; he had never reacted to her presence. Likewise she was drawn naturally curious to the avatar Marcus carved from himself: singularly hateful and driven, that malice perhaps turned inwards once the enemies around them had been defeated. What purpose had he now? He felt like a wound, though she did not know why. It itched at her fingers, pulsing temptation in her chest, though she did not let it fill her.
Instead she cupped his cheek like a mother might, knowing he could not flinch from nor retaliate against the kindness. He barely saw her before, when his eyes burned red as blood, and she did not expect that to change. Rather, the affection was just in her nature. The injury was far too old, though. It had healed crooked, but there was nothing here left to fix. It just was, now. Unpicking the memories that created it would leave more shell than man, and she had no wish to see him broken.
After a moment her hand slid away, and she turned to face Marcus. “Chains always break. Cages eventually spring free. You’ll fight this war forever if you don’t find a better way.” That was his choice to make, though, and she would not take it from him -- not even to release the bonds he held on Malik, though she did not like to see it. Her head canted, considering. A small smile lingered. “You hugged me so tightly I could feel your heart beating shrill as a baby bird’s. You were too scared to even tell me your name. It didn’t seem a fair game, so I brought you here instead. I do not know why you are still two.” She tipped a shoulder into a shrug.
“The world is wonderfully strange, and not everything needs an answer.” Her fingers fluttered through the petals in her lap, letting them float slowly back to the earth where they rooted into the ground and sprung abundant. “I don’t know how long you will stay here. Either of you. Do you think you are asking the right questions, Marcus? Sometimes opportunities are missed because we spend too long wondering why they have been given to us.”
She unfolded and stood.
With the frozen snarl on his face, Malik almost reminded her of the basalt stone, though Tristan’s uncle was dead and his imprisonment little more than the laws of nature. Trolls were seldom good creatures either, but on the rare occasions Nimeda still visited the cottage she would sit at the stone’s base and speak to the essence within. Probably he considered that additional punishment rather than a comfort, or perhaps he did not care to listen at all; he had never reacted to her presence. Likewise she was drawn naturally curious to the avatar Marcus carved from himself: singularly hateful and driven, that malice perhaps turned inwards once the enemies around them had been defeated. What purpose had he now? He felt like a wound, though she did not know why. It itched at her fingers, pulsing temptation in her chest, though she did not let it fill her.
Instead she cupped his cheek like a mother might, knowing he could not flinch from nor retaliate against the kindness. He barely saw her before, when his eyes burned red as blood, and she did not expect that to change. Rather, the affection was just in her nature. The injury was far too old, though. It had healed crooked, but there was nothing here left to fix. It just was, now. Unpicking the memories that created it would leave more shell than man, and she had no wish to see him broken.
After a moment her hand slid away, and she turned to face Marcus. “Chains always break. Cages eventually spring free. You’ll fight this war forever if you don’t find a better way.” That was his choice to make, though, and she would not take it from him -- not even to release the bonds he held on Malik, though she did not like to see it. Her head canted, considering. A small smile lingered. “You hugged me so tightly I could feel your heart beating shrill as a baby bird’s. You were too scared to even tell me your name. It didn’t seem a fair game, so I brought you here instead. I do not know why you are still two.” She tipped a shoulder into a shrug.
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