Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2018 15:23:35 GMT -6
Sesil | Savior
The colours of their teke pool over the weapon, oil on the surface of water, a fluid opalescent sheen. It takes a second. A heartbeat. It feels like a lifetime. Sesil doesn’t take a single breath, afraid to break his focus, his heart turning still within his chest.
At the exact moment the thought of it didn’t work hits him - the thought of chains, the bite of steel, thoughts dominated by red and iron - the tekes meld together. They glow. He squints dark lidded eyes against the brightness of it, teeth baring to reveal enamel. And then- it flees past them, hushed and quiet like a mist, a whisper. It is not loud like he expected, like part of him had eagerly hoped for, deafening or guttural. There’s not a noise. He turns, and watches breathless how the light bleeds over the canyon walls, chasing the height of it, chasing away the darkness of shadows and making way for the rushing light. His eyes widen, pupils tiny pinpricks in the reflected gold, as he watches it solidify. And then it’s done. He’s able to breathe. And the herd rejoices.
Beside him, he hears Selora sob for her children as blood pools from her nose. She has sunken to the ground into a small and pitiful thing, curled together like a crushed bug. He feels no empathy or even sympathy, but it is a display he does not think she wants others to see, least of all the Advocate before her. He has heard the rumors about her, and few of them favorable. Her association with Jemin and the display from before tells him plenty, let alone the brand that is on her shoulder I saw but regardless, as a Savior, he will tend to her if he must, whatever ailment plagues her that causes her to bend and buckle when faced with what could be her salvation.
But not yet.
"See that she stands," he says to Jemin, "I will tend to her."
His eyes set on the wall that has formed before them. He tears himself away from the group, teke dissipating, and approaches it with careful and slow step. It is not fear of the wall itself. It’s fear that it could crumble, peel away from the walls at a moment’s notice. It doesn’t seem real. His own reflection is a blur on its surface, deforming, unclear, and in his head is only white noise. He reaches out, and touches it. His teke sprawls over the wall, bleeding into the spiderweb imperfections.
It’s solid, without give or fault in its structure, standing grand and unmoving before him. Now, perhaps forever.
The realization of being safe, whether a farce or not, comes first. That of being caught is second. With insistence there is the reminder of everyone else out there dying fighting for their people, that comes third. But they are safe. For how long, and at what conditions this wall comes, he doesn’t know, and doesn't want to think about despite of the persistence of the questions. That's fourth. And with the preservation of the herd those dying seek to protect, perhaps no sacrifice will be in vain. Sesil laughs, a shattered edge to it. He feels a vague pang of relief, and he feels guilty for it.
WC: 550 | Post #7
The colours of their teke pool over the weapon, oil on the surface of water, a fluid opalescent sheen. It takes a second. A heartbeat. It feels like a lifetime. Sesil doesn’t take a single breath, afraid to break his focus, his heart turning still within his chest.
At the exact moment the thought of it didn’t work hits him - the thought of chains, the bite of steel, thoughts dominated by red and iron - the tekes meld together. They glow. He squints dark lidded eyes against the brightness of it, teeth baring to reveal enamel. And then- it flees past them, hushed and quiet like a mist, a whisper. It is not loud like he expected, like part of him had eagerly hoped for, deafening or guttural. There’s not a noise. He turns, and watches breathless how the light bleeds over the canyon walls, chasing the height of it, chasing away the darkness of shadows and making way for the rushing light. His eyes widen, pupils tiny pinpricks in the reflected gold, as he watches it solidify. And then it’s done. He’s able to breathe. And the herd rejoices.
Beside him, he hears Selora sob for her children as blood pools from her nose. She has sunken to the ground into a small and pitiful thing, curled together like a crushed bug. He feels no empathy or even sympathy, but it is a display he does not think she wants others to see, least of all the Advocate before her. He has heard the rumors about her, and few of them favorable. Her association with Jemin and the display from before tells him plenty, let alone the brand that is on her shoulder I saw but regardless, as a Savior, he will tend to her if he must, whatever ailment plagues her that causes her to bend and buckle when faced with what could be her salvation.
But not yet.
"See that she stands," he says to Jemin, "I will tend to her."
His eyes set on the wall that has formed before them. He tears himself away from the group, teke dissipating, and approaches it with careful and slow step. It is not fear of the wall itself. It’s fear that it could crumble, peel away from the walls at a moment’s notice. It doesn’t seem real. His own reflection is a blur on its surface, deforming, unclear, and in his head is only white noise. He reaches out, and touches it. His teke sprawls over the wall, bleeding into the spiderweb imperfections.
It’s solid, without give or fault in its structure, standing grand and unmoving before him. Now, perhaps forever.
The realization of being safe, whether a farce or not, comes first. That of being caught is second. With insistence there is the reminder of everyone else out there dying fighting for their people, that comes third. But they are safe. For how long, and at what conditions this wall comes, he doesn’t know, and doesn't want to think about despite of the persistence of the questions. That's fourth. And with the preservation of the herd those dying seek to protect, perhaps no sacrifice will be in vain. Sesil laughs, a shattered edge to it. He feels a vague pang of relief, and he feels guilty for it.
WC: 550 | Post #7
