Post by Tabula Rasa on Jul 24, 2014 14:40:39 GMT -5
A lone figure stood erect in a quiet spot on the outskirts of the city. She wrapped the cloak around her frame in an attempt to ward off the night chill. She sighed heavily, her slumped shoulders giving her an appearance of defeat that seemed uncommon in the regal figure as she stared blankly at the new covered grave.
Words would not escape the constriction of her throat. Tears would not fall from her eyes, though they burned just underneath the surface. The pain was too great for the things normally reserved for grief. Her chest ached and felt hollow. She hurt physically. Her entire being was in a state of agony that she could not voice for any expression of grief would have been inadequate.
She could do nothing but sigh. At that moment, she felt at home in that quiet place where time stopped. Silence permeated the atmosphere. It was fitting. She continued to stare unseeingly at the grave as her mind stayed firmly entrenched in the past. In memories of a life truncated before ever truly being lived.
Expelling a final sigh, she shook herself from the confines of her memories. She finally, slowly lifted her head (as if the very act of motion was exhausting) and turned from the patch of ground that held the only person who ever truly knew her.
Swallowing against the dryness of her throat, and the numbness that had trapped her tongue, she whispered, "Of all our flawed characteristics and weakness, it is our minds that is the easiest to shatter. Your bitterness was sweet to the Lady. I pray that She saw your end so you may find respite in Her embrace... away from pain and fear and regret.. in Oblivion. Dark journey, sister."
Words would not escape the constriction of her throat. Tears would not fall from her eyes, though they burned just underneath the surface. The pain was too great for the things normally reserved for grief. Her chest ached and felt hollow. She hurt physically. Her entire being was in a state of agony that she could not voice for any expression of grief would have been inadequate.
She could do nothing but sigh. At that moment, she felt at home in that quiet place where time stopped. Silence permeated the atmosphere. It was fitting. She continued to stare unseeingly at the grave as her mind stayed firmly entrenched in the past. In memories of a life truncated before ever truly being lived.
Expelling a final sigh, she shook herself from the confines of her memories. She finally, slowly lifted her head (as if the very act of motion was exhausting) and turned from the patch of ground that held the only person who ever truly knew her.
Swallowing against the dryness of her throat, and the numbness that had trapped her tongue, she whispered, "Of all our flawed characteristics and weakness, it is our minds that is the easiest to shatter. Your bitterness was sweet to the Lady. I pray that She saw your end so you may find respite in Her embrace... away from pain and fear and regret.. in Oblivion. Dark journey, sister."