08-28-2018, 05:34 PM
[font=trebuchet ms]Over the course of three and a half months, Rin had seen enough death for a lifetime.
Part of her wondered if she should even bother grieving anymore, when it happened so often, and she never knew if it would stick or not. Starrynight had never returned. Margaery had returned after a few days, and Suiteheart had taken about the same time a few weeks later. Maes had never returned, though in his case there was magic involved that had most likely damaged or destroyed his soul. Bastille was alive again within minutes.
Death was her puppeteer, and despite seeing the strings, she could not stop herself from going through the motions. She could not stop herself from feeling, from fighting, from fearing. What it was she feared, she wasn't sure anymore. Was it abandonment? Was it the guilt of knowing someone else had suffered when she could have saved them? Was it the possibility of the clan crumbling to ruin if the bloodshed continued?
Perhaps... she feared the day when each of her clanmates would eventually be gone for good.
The soft scent of roses could not hide the stench of death, even without blood to herald the reaper's arrival. Rin had dreaded the moment when she would find out who had been snatched away, but she knew it would be better for her to discover the body than someone younger and more innocent. (Too late to accomplish that, she reflected bitterly as whimpers rang through the air.)
The sight of Margaery lying lifeless in a bed of roses was comparable to being struck head-on by a car.
Rin stood, frozen to the spot, without a mark on her- yet she could almost feel herself being flung across the field, her broken legs crumpling uselessly beneath her, blood pouring from where she had been hit. Compared to hearing about her close friend's death secondhand, finding the body in person was so much worse. There was no denying what her own eyes could see.
She was reminded, her eyes honing in on Margaery's peaceful smile, of how things had been just a few months prior. How tired the vampire had been of living, how much she had been going through- and how much worse it had gotten just a few weeks ago, after falling out with Suiteheart. She had suffered several lifetimes' worth of grief and loss.
This, Rin could tell deep within herself, was the look of someone who had accepted death, who would not be coming back. Though she had no idea how she even understood that, she felt a pang of empathy for the tired and the fallen.
Once upon a time, she had thought that to grieve for the dead was to express anger, or feel that it was unfair, or to want them back in the world of the living at the expense of their own freedom. She had thought there was always someone to blame, even if that someone was just the mysterious forces at work in the universe. There was always an ulterior motive behind every anguished wail, even if it was nothing more than self-pity or greed.
She had felt that she had no right to cry.
Now, however, tears streaked freely down her face, and she made no attempt to stop them. Margaery was happy now, wherever she was. Rin understood that much, understood there was no underlying cause behind this sudden tragedy beyond mere exhaustion with life. She could not, would not beg her friend to return, to a world of troubles and trials. They would see each other again someday, be it in the next life or otherwise.
For now, though, this was goodbye. For once, she would let that be reason enough to cry.
It was then that the very conspicuous absence of Suiteheart struck her. Rin could detect a very faint scent on Margaery's form, but Suite herself was nowhere to be seen.
Biting her lip, she murmured, "Hold on." Who she wanted to hold on, or what she wanted them to hold on for, was unclear. Perhaps she meant Margaery, perhaps she meant the grieving Harland and Moonmade, perhaps she meant the garden that surrounded them. It did not matter, in the grand scheme of things.
With that, she bolted off, off to find Suiteheart. It only made sense that the two would go to their deaths together, but she could not just leave another friend to die.
Part of her wondered if she should even bother grieving anymore, when it happened so often, and she never knew if it would stick or not. Starrynight had never returned. Margaery had returned after a few days, and Suiteheart had taken about the same time a few weeks later. Maes had never returned, though in his case there was magic involved that had most likely damaged or destroyed his soul. Bastille was alive again within minutes.
Death was her puppeteer, and despite seeing the strings, she could not stop herself from going through the motions. She could not stop herself from feeling, from fighting, from fearing. What it was she feared, she wasn't sure anymore. Was it abandonment? Was it the guilt of knowing someone else had suffered when she could have saved them? Was it the possibility of the clan crumbling to ruin if the bloodshed continued?
Perhaps... she feared the day when each of her clanmates would eventually be gone for good.
The soft scent of roses could not hide the stench of death, even without blood to herald the reaper's arrival. Rin had dreaded the moment when she would find out who had been snatched away, but she knew it would be better for her to discover the body than someone younger and more innocent. (Too late to accomplish that, she reflected bitterly as whimpers rang through the air.)
The sight of Margaery lying lifeless in a bed of roses was comparable to being struck head-on by a car.
Rin stood, frozen to the spot, without a mark on her- yet she could almost feel herself being flung across the field, her broken legs crumpling uselessly beneath her, blood pouring from where she had been hit. Compared to hearing about her close friend's death secondhand, finding the body in person was so much worse. There was no denying what her own eyes could see.
She was reminded, her eyes honing in on Margaery's peaceful smile, of how things had been just a few months prior. How tired the vampire had been of living, how much she had been going through- and how much worse it had gotten just a few weeks ago, after falling out with Suiteheart. She had suffered several lifetimes' worth of grief and loss.
This, Rin could tell deep within herself, was the look of someone who had accepted death, who would not be coming back. Though she had no idea how she even understood that, she felt a pang of empathy for the tired and the fallen.
Once upon a time, she had thought that to grieve for the dead was to express anger, or feel that it was unfair, or to want them back in the world of the living at the expense of their own freedom. She had thought there was always someone to blame, even if that someone was just the mysterious forces at work in the universe. There was always an ulterior motive behind every anguished wail, even if it was nothing more than self-pity or greed.
She had felt that she had no right to cry.
Now, however, tears streaked freely down her face, and she made no attempt to stop them. Margaery was happy now, wherever she was. Rin understood that much, understood there was no underlying cause behind this sudden tragedy beyond mere exhaustion with life. She could not, would not beg her friend to return, to a world of troubles and trials. They would see each other again someday, be it in the next life or otherwise.
For now, though, this was goodbye. For once, she would let that be reason enough to cry.
It was then that the very conspicuous absence of Suiteheart struck her. Rin could detect a very faint scent on Margaery's form, but Suite herself was nowhere to be seen.
Biting her lip, she murmured, "Hold on." Who she wanted to hold on, or what she wanted them to hold on for, was unclear. Perhaps she meant Margaery, perhaps she meant the grieving Harland and Moonmade, perhaps she meant the garden that surrounded them. It did not matter, in the grand scheme of things.
With that, she bolted off, off to find Suiteheart. It only made sense that the two would go to their deaths together, but she could not just leave another friend to die.
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