| Who | Hannah |
|---|---|
| What | Nights are the hardest, when your dreams all fail and all that's left is memory. |
| When | There is 1 turn 3 months and 15 days until the 12th pass. |
| Where | Ebon Askavi, Southern Weyr |
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Ebon Askavi
The weyr is forbidding, done in dark colors with heavy wooden furniture. Careful cleaning has left the wooden furniture gleaming, the living area is blocked off to the side by dark mahogany screens in lacquered panels depicting delicate scenes of color flowers and brightly plumed avians and felines hidden at the base, ready to pounce upon the unsuspecting wildlife. A round table sits off to the side, nearest to the small hearth that keeps the weyr warm. Behind the screens, heavy couches are arrayed in such a way that guests are made welcome, though not comfortable enough to remain for too long. The sleeping area can be glimpsed through the shallow dip that leads into Dhiammarath's area. The walls maintain the color of dark volcanic rock, striated in marbled grey. Overall, the living area is comfortable, but heavy and a touch foreboding.
The glowbaskets are lighted and illuminate the room beautifully.
You see Fluffeh and Tinkles here.
Obvious exits:
Baths Ledge Couch Stairs
Memories a thousand turns old wind through the dark and desolate landscape of towering mountains and pits of shadows and death. Feet pound against the ashes of a million broken lives, crushed beneath the weight of the threat that comes from above. Breathing comes ragged, bursting through my chest tasting of the ashes of the world. My hair streams behind me like moonlight; my muscles hide in tandem as the pressure of what's coming drives me forward. Where life begins is the point at which it ends; and the moment of ending is the birth of the beginning.
In the distance a star falls out of the sky, streaking across the obsidian of the night sky; gleaming as it makes its way through the abyss. Around me the world warps and wefts, upended upon its end by something far more sinister than the comet that destroyed my future.
When the days are cold, and the dreams are failing… I want to hide the truth. I want to shelter you. I would treasure you forever. From the moment of birth to death, my life lives for you. Revolves for you. Is driven by you.
My thoughts run through with each violent exhalation as I push the waker muscles to their limit, desperate to make to to the ends of the earth before that falling star hits the ruined earth. Charred and gone, burnt and broken, I am hell bound. This is all for you.
Behind the star, streamers of moonlight chase the gleaming brightness that is my heart. My soul. Layers and layers of sky coalesce into this moment as time freezes. The star halts, frozen in time, but the silver'd filigree'd streamers of moonlight fall, striking, sizzling.
Pain burns straight to the heart-of-hearts, alighting the demons that lurk within. When dreams commingle to nightmares, I am left alone.
Flashes of memory slice through the soft flesh of my heart, and the blood runs.
I would shelter you. I would love you forever. Even when you are but a whisper in the darkness.
I can feel the chilled tear sliding down my cheek…
That star falls.
The dream awakens me again. I am crying, my body shuddering in the darkness of my empty weyr. The room is a cavern of darkness, and the furniture looms around me like the ashes of a world that no longer ends. I crawl to the edge of my bed and tumble off of it. Desperation drags at the blood that rushes through my body; spring's cool kiss touches upon my heated skin. Not even that relief can stop the sobbing.
When my hands grapple free of the bed finally and I half walk, half crawl to my knees and finally to my feet. As soon as balance is mine, I surge forward. Fear and panic still drive me, my demons chasing me like apparition of memories.
"Please… " the mewling sound that comes out of my mouth is a soft, panicked cry. As I run through my weyr, I use my hand to stabilize my path as I round the corner and run like a crazed madwoman towards the ledge.
"Please…"
A plea thrown to the darkness, but the dream's grip is already fading, but not soon enough. Upon the ledge, I see my heart's desire. That which cannot be lived without. My fallen star, the presence that's been with me for as long as I can remember, my life having been reborn that day on the sands. Memory has wound through the dream, leaving me weak and frightened by what's coming.
Thread.
I remember it. Jesha would understand.
I tremble as I climb with shaking limbs onto the slumbering form of Dhiammarath. I curl into a ball at the softest spot were her neck connects to her shoulders. I stroke the iridescent sheen of jewel tones as I am reassured that plague didn't take her. Thread didn't take her.
"I want to shelter you," I whisper. My heart no longer leaps in my chest, the loss of adrenaline has me dragging back into the darkness of sleep, but this time I am sheltered by a different place. A place of beauty and reassurance. A place where no matter what happens, I am held safe.
This is all for you.
Oh Hannah. :(
So beautiful and sad and evocative and… /frightening/.
Thread is coming, though, /isn't/ it.