The Sentinels all the dead seem to know where i am

It was hushed, here— the silence of a place sacred, and though all of Donnelaith was such, it was here where its power originated. She stood off to the side, several meters back, though her mismatched gaze was fixated upon the fairy ring. Her grief was a crushing weight, and though she longed to go to him, she knew it grow ever heavier as she drew nearer. And so Emaleth stood, battling against the tears that threatened to overtake her, a warrior's training. She would go stronger thus, learning to overcome the pain that had taken hold upon her heart— learning to use it in her magicks, to fuel them.

"Níor thug tú críochnaithe teagasc dom, a Athair," she murmured softly to him.

she was drawn here as much by the presence of her sister as her fathers. she drew nearer to emaleth, reverent to the grave and quiet in her approach. she looked to the fairy ring and reclined to her haunches, here for the first time since her dreams. he told me that you would return--to watch out for you, she spoke in their shared language, the words but a whisper.

"He has not come to me," Emaleth said, voice soft and sorrowful— that was a pain she could not hide from her sister, that she had been abandoned by the man in his death. She wished desperately of the gods that they would send him to her dreams; but either they would not, or could not. Ní raibh mé thréigean Donnelaith. Ní raibh mé thréigean tú. Grá agat dom, agus fós a fhágann tú dom. She willed that he hear this in his death, for all she could believe was that she had incurred his wrath when she had fled the forest in her grief. You left me, first.

deirdre looked to her sister, her words plaintitive: you have hardened your heart in your grief, emaleth. perhaps this makes his words difficult to hear, but i do not doubt he will try again, and again. when her sisters heart was ready, or perhaps when it was not, deirdre did not doubt that emaleth might see their father as she had! she looked upward. he is the lash of the winds, gentle or fierce. he does not see all, he told me, but he has seen you! she knew this to be true as he had told her emaleth would return, and here she stood!

she listened to deirdre's word, and desperately willed herself to believe them— but she could not, for taltos was a powerful druid, and surely in death he would come to her even if she had shut the iron door of her heart. she could not feel him in the wind, or hear him in the whispers of the trees, for she still heard that. "perhaps he is angry with me," emaleth responded stubbornly.

he could never be angry with you, deirdre breathed, moving to nose her sisters cheek softly. it was not her fathers windsigh that caused the violets to stir around his grave, but it was something joining her voice to tell emaleth deirdre spoke true! in the Otherworld, his death is new; perhaps it was only luck that brought him first to me, and he fights to find you, now, among our other family... eilidh, constantine, casmir... though it was known that emaleth would be the most receptive to it, spiritual as she was! eilidh had an open heart, and so perhaps eilidh might come to see him, too. casmir and constantine were both earthly men, who deirdre was not so certain would come to meet their fathers spirit, but then, they were mayfairs, and all mayfairs had dreams!

it was that which wounded emaleth so— that she and deirdre had been closest to the magicks and mysteries of the world, and yet the dark witch was left with silence in the wake of lasher's passing. she did not know if eilidh, casmir, or constantine had seen their father... but it would be salt if they had before she. but she spoke to deirdre none of these ugly feelings, suppressing them as she so often did. they were bonded, but there were things she could not bring herself to say to her littermate.

"perhaps," she finally agreed, her voice subdued. emaleth fell silent, then, casting her eyes to look upon the mound in which her father's bones lay. perhaps if she were to rest upon it, to embrace and tangle with the earth that shrouded him. perhaps then she could reach him. it seemed taboo, dishonorable— but she was overcome with a yearning for it! still, the dark witch did not move nor did she speak of it, and rather mourned in stillness beside her sister.