Hideaway Strath in death's shadow

There was no use in following after him, her body dictated. She was forced to lay down, pain subsiding but only at a snail's pace. Utter defeat threatened to pierce her ironclad will, how had she let herself reach such a state. This was no will of the gods, no curse casted upon her, no it was as if she had been unknowingly wishing for death.

Mictec was alone now that Qvasir had melted into the forest. This time the rumbling inside her was not from her stomach as a low growl escaped her lips. "Is this what you want, to tease me?" She spoke to her gods, gods who were not viewed in a saintly light, gods whose tales of sacrifice crafted such a beast as herself. Tears slowly welled in her eyes, the yellow tags pressure becoming more annoying as she laid her head on the earthy ground.

There is no good, there is no evil, there is only balance.

Mictec swore she could hear the ethereal voice of her abuela whispering in her ears. Mictec often though she understood what abuela had meant whenever she went off on her spiritual tirade but perhaps this time was different. 

Mictec shut her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing. Slowly, she felt as if she was being absorbed by the ground below her, her own heart beat matching that of the earth. With each inhale she let herself pick up on all the strange scents around her, how some had started to become familiar like the moist soil after a rain. The breeze itself was not as cold now as she was slowly beginning to adjust to the climate.

Balance, death and life, it begun to dawn on Mictec. The closer one comes to death, the more revelations became clear. This was not her swan song, this was her rebirth.