The Portal
07-25-2017, 01:51 AM
jumping in again now that im back!!! --
The casual acceptance of my comfort is unanticipated, with the way she smells of — blood — of rust, the stench of copper singing my nostrils as I hover near her, trying to be a welcoming presence, a soothing voice in the dark as she struggles at the loss of pieces of her soul. I want to tell her that I'm sorry, that this foreign land is unspeakably cruel it seems, that it does not care who you are or what you have done - it is greedy, and all it knows how to do is take, and take. Even its false god takes, he took everything, he took Helovia, my mother, he took my home and now we are here, in this unsettling world.
She has risen, giving thanks for my words despite the wariness behind them, the uncertainty of whether everything really would be okay. I want my words to be true, to be more than empty promises of safety, to be sure that we'll make it through this, that nothing bad will come of our arrival here. But already I am wrong, from what she has lost, from what has been taken from everyone who has entered this Rift through the portal from Helovia, from other places as well - everything is not okay.
My blank eyes are shooting to empty black spaces, to the sound of her name echoing through my ears because — Cahira — I must know that name from somewhere, I have heard it before haven't I? No, perhaps not, for no memory that I dig for can ever bring up evidence of the name, of Mother in all her spitting fury mentioning the long lost bastard child, the cataclysmic birth of a Cahira who created a great divide between Mother and my grandmother. She speaks of tragedy, of loss of her companions, of her home, swallowed by the earth beneath her and spit out into a world unlike any other - she speaks of war, and I feel unease gripping my spine, raising the hairs as I remember the cries of my friends, of respected apostles and masters as they perished at the hooves of bloodthirsty bandits. That was not war, but slaughter, it had never been a fair fight to begin with, our peace and comfort destroyed at the hands of murderers, pillaged and brought to ruin. And it was not the last time I would have to witness mass death, mass destruction, for my return to Helovia brought only the same thing, the stench of hollowed corpses, sizzling with energy.
I stiffen at the mention of feathers, unable to discern whether Cahira spoke to Dallilja or to me, straining for patience, to pretend that my skin didn't itch where the feathers of my grandfather didn't rest, tucked away behind my ear as I feel my body tense, my shoulders hunch and wings close in at my sides, awkwardly hugging my body as I attempt to connect the dots. A lover from before, mother told me the story of her parents, of my grandparents, the trials of their love — I suck in a deep breath, I let myself exhale slowly as their conversation picks up, and I am left to wonder the significance of the feathers behind my ear. Mother had told me of their history, that my grandfather offered them to her dam and his children, final pieces of him in offering as he withered before their eyes. She was always so quiet and solemn when speaking of him, longing and mournful, explaining that she was never as close to him as she would have liked to have been, and alienated herself from her dam after — oh.
I tune back into the conversation to hear the name Delinne, to hear Azarel the Silverflame and Destry - to know that I have found family. A smile spreads across my lips, a falter in my words as my voice cracks, as my mind reels because here, before me, fate has offered blood. Tears are pooling at the corners of my eyes, my fear of being alone in the world is diminishing, but a plume of fading smoke as I give a sigh of relief. "I know you! I know you, Cahira. My mother - my mother is Destry. The feathers, they're my grandfather's - my mother - she - she gave them to me before I came through the portal," and then it's crumbling. The smile falls, because Mother is gone, and in my moment of relief I could have almost sworn she was still here, perhaps waiting for me just beyond the trees that surround us, that she was awaiting my arrival as I stumble upon my aunt. I remember now, the bad blood that brewed whenever Mother spoke of Delinne, of her betrayal, of the adulterous sins committed by her, the creation of Cahira. Mother may have been hesitant to forgive Delinne for such an act, only able to do so in silence, within herself, for Delinne had long since left Helovia - but she was still bitter over Cahira, over the abomination she had called her when first explaining the existence of my aunt and uncle. I will not carry on mother's grudge, her disdain for her half-blooded sister, nor for her own mother. They are family, and I am no longer as alone as I thought I was.
“talk talk talk.”
The casual acceptance of my comfort is unanticipated, with the way she smells of — blood — of rust, the stench of copper singing my nostrils as I hover near her, trying to be a welcoming presence, a soothing voice in the dark as she struggles at the loss of pieces of her soul. I want to tell her that I'm sorry, that this foreign land is unspeakably cruel it seems, that it does not care who you are or what you have done - it is greedy, and all it knows how to do is take, and take. Even its false god takes, he took everything, he took Helovia, my mother, he took my home and now we are here, in this unsettling world.
She has risen, giving thanks for my words despite the wariness behind them, the uncertainty of whether everything really would be okay. I want my words to be true, to be more than empty promises of safety, to be sure that we'll make it through this, that nothing bad will come of our arrival here. But already I am wrong, from what she has lost, from what has been taken from everyone who has entered this Rift through the portal from Helovia, from other places as well - everything is not okay.
My blank eyes are shooting to empty black spaces, to the sound of her name echoing through my ears because — Cahira — I must know that name from somewhere, I have heard it before haven't I? No, perhaps not, for no memory that I dig for can ever bring up evidence of the name, of Mother in all her spitting fury mentioning the long lost bastard child, the cataclysmic birth of a Cahira who created a great divide between Mother and my grandmother. She speaks of tragedy, of loss of her companions, of her home, swallowed by the earth beneath her and spit out into a world unlike any other - she speaks of war, and I feel unease gripping my spine, raising the hairs as I remember the cries of my friends, of respected apostles and masters as they perished at the hooves of bloodthirsty bandits. That was not war, but slaughter, it had never been a fair fight to begin with, our peace and comfort destroyed at the hands of murderers, pillaged and brought to ruin. And it was not the last time I would have to witness mass death, mass destruction, for my return to Helovia brought only the same thing, the stench of hollowed corpses, sizzling with energy.
I stiffen at the mention of feathers, unable to discern whether Cahira spoke to Dallilja or to me, straining for patience, to pretend that my skin didn't itch where the feathers of my grandfather didn't rest, tucked away behind my ear as I feel my body tense, my shoulders hunch and wings close in at my sides, awkwardly hugging my body as I attempt to connect the dots. A lover from before, mother told me the story of her parents, of my grandparents, the trials of their love — I suck in a deep breath, I let myself exhale slowly as their conversation picks up, and I am left to wonder the significance of the feathers behind my ear. Mother had told me of their history, that my grandfather offered them to her dam and his children, final pieces of him in offering as he withered before their eyes. She was always so quiet and solemn when speaking of him, longing and mournful, explaining that she was never as close to him as she would have liked to have been, and alienated herself from her dam after — oh.
I tune back into the conversation to hear the name Delinne, to hear Azarel the Silverflame and Destry - to know that I have found family. A smile spreads across my lips, a falter in my words as my voice cracks, as my mind reels because here, before me, fate has offered blood. Tears are pooling at the corners of my eyes, my fear of being alone in the world is diminishing, but a plume of fading smoke as I give a sigh of relief. "I know you! I know you, Cahira. My mother - my mother is Destry. The feathers, they're my grandfather's - my mother - she - she gave them to me before I came through the portal," and then it's crumbling. The smile falls, because Mother is gone, and in my moment of relief I could have almost sworn she was still here, perhaps waiting for me just beyond the trees that surround us, that she was awaiting my arrival as I stumble upon my aunt. I remember now, the bad blood that brewed whenever Mother spoke of Delinne, of her betrayal, of the adulterous sins committed by her, the creation of Cahira. Mother may have been hesitant to forgive Delinne for such an act, only able to do so in silence, within herself, for Delinne had long since left Helovia - but she was still bitter over Cahira, over the abomination she had called her when first explaining the existence of my aunt and uncle. I will not carry on mother's grudge, her disdain for her half-blooded sister, nor for her own mother. They are family, and I am no longer as alone as I thought I was.
“talk talk talk.”
-- table by velvette --
this is the world as i see it now,
turns out nothing is fair
