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+--- Thread: Altar of Twilight and does she cry through broken sentences "i love you far too much” (/showthread.php?tid=21471)
and does she cry through broken sentences "i love you far too much” - Olive - April 16, 2017
set shortly after this thread and before this thread.
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It was night, but the darkness of their milieu did nothing to obscure the tears which glittered across her eyes and stained her velveteen cheeks with her sadness. Heavy eyelids squeezed tightly shut and concealed her ever-seeing eyes; the sylph shook her head from side to side, giving herself a throbbing headache and, more than that, hoping to forget what she had glimpsed. To convince herself that it was untrue and that she had simply misinterpreted the message written in the stars.
The misted mother had no interest in universal platitudes, for there was much at stake; her children, her livelihood, her eternal bond with the dark night. The druid had begged the stars for the truth, for a sign to point towards her next move, to shepherd her family from the hurt and sadness which had been all they’d known. For a short time, the druid had thought herself smarter than the stars; her heart had been touched by true love and, because of it, she knew all there ever was and every would be.
Love had been the only thing that mattered; the only thing worth fighting for! but Olive had played a dangerous game and lost; she attempted to take her destiny into her own hands and forced the gods’ divine hand… and for that, she was being punished. She had been punished for some time now, but Olive’s senses had been deadened [by the intoxicating miasma of desire and self-preservation] and she had made the decision not to see; chose to ignore the gentle pushes and cajoling of the divinity until they struck out in a manner she was unable to ignore — the theft of her firstborn son, the wonderful Sirius. She was reminded of her son’s absence every time the family gathered for sleep, when Dakarai kissed her tenderly or when her breasts grew sore and leaked from her excess lactation. It was often more than she could bear.
The lamb could no longer risk the safety of those she loved on feelings that were hedonistic at best. The love she bore her king would never die, for as long as she took breath, for there was no one more herself than he was — but the universe had an aversion to things fitting perfectly together and it instead leaned more towards… chaos. Chaos allowed the world to continue moving ever forward, but things as pure and unadulterated as love did nothing but stagnate all of those who felt its effects. It was the ultimate test of her piety and devotion; not only to the forces and powers of the natural world, but to Dakarai himself and their babes. To save them from further pain, it must end.
”Is this what you wish?" she beseeched, thrusting her swimming eyes to the sky once more, her mental map of the stars laying over it and allowing her to quickly find the alignments she sought. She could scry nothing but the same words from the discarnate voices; their energies were clear; their message the same. It must end.
The family had been alone for little more than a day, abandoned by the arturo’s henchman and they had not moved since. Much of her time between then and now was spent alone, communing with the heavens above and struggling to seek their message. Go North, they said, go north and let it be the end. Far off in the distance Olive could glimpse Dakarai playing with their babes, the shaped lighted by nothing more than moonbeams. The druid sniffed her nose and wiped the tears from her cheeks, knowing that she would need to save her tears for the sadness to come. North they would go, she decided, and in the north, it will end.
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The misted mother had no interest in universal platitudes, for there was much at stake; her children, her livelihood, her eternal bond with the dark night. The druid had begged the stars for the truth, for a sign to point towards her next move, to shepherd her family from the hurt and sadness which had been all they’d known. For a short time, the druid had thought herself smarter than the stars; her heart had been touched by true love and, because of it, she knew all there ever was and every would be.
Love had been the only thing that mattered; the only thing worth fighting for! but Olive had played a dangerous game and lost; she attempted to take her destiny into her own hands and forced the gods’ divine hand… and for that, she was being punished. She had been punished for some time now, but Olive’s senses had been deadened [by the intoxicating miasma of desire and self-preservation] and she had made the decision not to see; chose to ignore the gentle pushes and cajoling of the divinity until they struck out in a manner she was unable to ignore — the theft of her firstborn son, the wonderful Sirius. She was reminded of her son’s absence every time the family gathered for sleep, when Dakarai kissed her tenderly or when her breasts grew sore and leaked from her excess lactation. It was often more than she could bear.
The lamb could no longer risk the safety of those she loved on feelings that were hedonistic at best. The love she bore her king would never die, for as long as she took breath, for there was no one more herself than he was — but the universe had an aversion to things fitting perfectly together and it instead leaned more towards… chaos. Chaos allowed the world to continue moving ever forward, but things as pure and unadulterated as love did nothing but stagnate all of those who felt its effects. It was the ultimate test of her piety and devotion; not only to the forces and powers of the natural world, but to Dakarai himself and their babes. To save them from further pain, it must end.
”Is this what you wish?" she beseeched, thrusting her swimming eyes to the sky once more, her mental map of the stars laying over it and allowing her to quickly find the alignments she sought. She could scry nothing but the same words from the discarnate voices; their energies were clear; their message the same. It must end.
The family had been alone for little more than a day, abandoned by the arturo’s henchman and they had not moved since. Much of her time between then and now was spent alone, communing with the heavens above and struggling to seek their message. Go North, they said, go north and let it be the end. Far off in the distance Olive could glimpse Dakarai playing with their babes, the shaped lighted by nothing more than moonbeams. The druid sniffed her nose and wiped the tears from her cheeks, knowing that she would need to save her tears for the sadness to come. North they would go, she decided, and in the north, it will end.