Green Labyrinth
yael
For maybe the second time in her life, she fears for her child.
The first time is irrelevant, but also a product of her own doing. It’s odd how history seems to repeat itself, as if the once-Queen, once-Seer, always-dragon had never learned her lesson. If Yael has a fatal flaw, it is this. She meddles and meddles and calls it ‘doing good,’ when all that ever comes of it is death, destruction, and heartache. They don’t know that - none of them know the history (except for Weaver, and with any luck, she will not cross the girl’s path any time soon) etched into the years on her skin, the sandy destruction and desert heat as it burned mistakes into her memories.
If this is her third chance, her last child (fourteen is enough, thank you very much); how can she prevent herself from fucking it all up again? It will be the eternal question, won’t it? For now, she has a beautiful baby boy to think about, as well as helpless companion to care for. And to be honest, she’s never really done the single-mother thing, so this is all very new. Labor was long, which was a blessing in disguise, as it allowed her to head West from the Rainforest Cliffs towards the edge of the mist. Gidon was born in the middle of nowhere, beneath the long boughs of a Glowing Cherry Tree - mirroring much the same way he was conceived. There they rested for a day, allowing them both to recover, and for Yael to hunt for Zani. If it weren’t for something pulling her Westward, she might have let them stay there a little while longer.
Their journey is slow, but uneventful, the only particularly curious aspect is the mist as it seems to always be parting before them - and a spiked, dark gray cat which Zani calls out to, as they pass what appears to be a cave system. It gives no answer, only watching the trio pass before disappearing again. Oh, and there was the pine tree that Gidon said was moving, but Yael chalks it up to the boy’s imagination and potential sensory overload. This world is far more colorful than Helovia, far more luminescent and dark, as if the night itself will eat everything it can get its greedy little hands on, but the day here still says no, and leaves glowing tidbits to keep its ravenous claws at bay. And what is a new (if old) mother to do, in the pouring rain, as her son huddles under her wings, which are then under her cloak? Say no, you cannot go and explore - no, that thing might actually kill you, because I don’t know that it is? How can she protect both herself and Gidon when she knows nothing?
They need to find others, and fast.
So perhaps someone is looking out for them, because eventually, they hear voices. And Yael is willing to take the chance on it being fellow Helovians. When familiar rear ends come into view, followed quickly by the deep, booming tone of Kaos’s voice, Yael urges the winged boy forward more quickly, coming up to the group with more relief than she’s felt in a long time. “Eet’ll be ok now,” she whispers to Gidon as she nuzzles between his ears, taking comfort in being part of a group again, even if momentarily.
Unfortunately, in her relief and dedication to her newborn son, Yael never noticed when Zani leaps from his place between her wings and darts between the horses hooves, to try and get the attention of the God with a loud, though kittenish, mewl.
trust your heart if the seas catch fire
live by love, though the stars walk backwards
