"Dear Deldrax,"
It was burnt. Again, the leaky, slum home had managed to fill with gray plumes of smoke. Forcing Fen'nan to throw open her windows, watching the result of her cooking float towards the twinkling stars, and vanish. Lips upturned in some silent amusement on what her Brood partner would remark.
"Next week will mark the third month since you left,"
Swiping the crimson hair from her face, it was only when the smoke had cleared, did she look down at the plated charred fish. That she had set two plates instead of one. The home barren and silent around her, slowly her smile faded.
"I left Regalia for a little while too actually. Recently I could return."
Fen'nan took the second plate, leaning over the kitchen counter to dump the burnt contents out the window, discarding the plate in the sink. With a long, sullen glance back at her own plate, she repeated the action with her own dinner, before closing the window. Her appetite vanished, much like her partner had in her absence. She was alone. Utterly, entirely alone.
"To my surprise, Milo found love. You'll be pleased to know she's better then the majority of the last ones. I'm glad for him, few deserve love more then he."
Fen'nan lifted her dark, ocean eyes from the sink, staring at the windows reflection of her. The red in her hair a beacon. The identity behind who she was. What she'd become. Fen'nan, red, the Solvaan. Suddenly she hated it. Hated the lie of it.
"My last letters to you were lies..."
Floorboards creaked as she turned, descending the stairs into further darkness, the stairway dimly lit with only a few candles. Continuing past the smoke-room, and deeper.
"I was not free, and therefore I was not me. Though I am now. Mostly. Me and you hold different definitions of what I am, though, I think yours was always the closest then others. I hope."
Her surroundings remained just as dim. The bathing chamber, much lovelier then the rest of the home, adorned with multiple candles on each wall, though only several were lit, casting the room into a long shadows. Elaborate, landscape paintings of jungles hung on the walls over the still pool of water.
"The problem with being free, with the storm passing, is the memories left of it in its wake. Those are harder to get rid of."
With a few fluid maneuvers, she let her clothes fall from her, slowly descending the few steps into the pool. The water rose to her waist, enveloping and caressing each old and new scar alike. The desolation of her home left her with an aching pit in her stomach.
"When I left the last storm of my old life in Ithania, I decided to become someone who would never be chained again."
Again her red hair stuck out in the black waters reflection, the more she stared down at it. Except it wasn't a beacon, it was a thorn, pricking her mind each time she saw herself, knowing all she'd appeared was a facade, a lie. To her. To her friends.
"And yet. There was Julius, then the other. So what is she now, more then a tired lie?"
With hesitant fingers, slowly did her calloused fingertips reach upwards and release the pin that held her hair into a loose bun, crimson waves tumbling down freely. Eyes burning with tears, she swallowed thickly. Fear had her bones jittering, hesitating. Did she want to see the girl she'd abandoned so many years ago? Embrace who she was? And yet—could she continue to live as she was now?
"I can't do it anymore. I can't be this anymore. Before it kills me."
Fen'nan closed her eyes, but a tear escaped down her cheek anyway. Intaking air into her lungs, she submerged herself in darkness, water filling her ears, yet her heartbeat roared. She did not reach for her dye this time. Did not remerge. Red stained the water around her, blossoming around her like a flower, crimson washing away. Just once. She wanted to see herself just once.
"For years I've lived a crimson lie. No more. If I will change anything, it will be as myself. My face, my race. Free.."
The empty pit in her stomach gnawed at her, digging itself deeper and deeper, her lungs constricting more and more the longer she remained under, submerged in darkness and yet... There was a weight that floated away with the dye, a release of chains. Free—she screamed. Screamed into the darkness, into the silence, until she hurt a little less. She knew. Knew it was temporary. That she'd rather live a lie then live a far more painful truth.
"I miss you. I miss all of you. I miss the noise in my home, the hollering at Violets. I miss the castle in Crookback, the fishing on the docks. I miss getting embarrassed at the temple. I miss food that's cooked right and I miss talking for hours. But I would change nothing. You're all exactly where you need to be. Where I want you to be. Happy. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied. Sorry they won't know why I did what I did."
An hour later, Fen'nan silently sat before her desk. Silence, loneliness driving her to pick up a pen. To write towards the friend who'd found his own peace. Candlelight flickered as she pen scribbled across parchment, wet, light teal hair dripping water unto her lap. The Minoor, no Solvaan at all, desperate to write out the truth. To talk, to anyone.
"Gods I wish you could read this..."
Fen'nan briefly paused her writing, reaching upwards to wipe her teary eyes once.
"But you can't."
Fen'nan lifted the lengthy letter, hovering the paper over the flames until it set alight, burning and curling away into nothing but ash. She could not ever send him such, because she would not risk his return. And she—she could never be thought to have her own struggles either. With a final glance to the ash of the letter, she flicked her wrist, the pile scattering into the air. With an exhaled sigh, torn from the depths of her tired soul, her fingers grasped a new sheet of parchment, and so she crafted another lie again. Just as she knew her hair would only be stained red again.
"Dear Deldrax,
I'm doing corking, obviously..."
It was burnt. Again, the leaky, slum home had managed to fill with gray plumes of smoke. Forcing Fen'nan to throw open her windows, watching the result of her cooking float towards the twinkling stars, and vanish. Lips upturned in some silent amusement on what her Brood partner would remark.
"Next week will mark the third month since you left,"
Swiping the crimson hair from her face, it was only when the smoke had cleared, did she look down at the plated charred fish. That she had set two plates instead of one. The home barren and silent around her, slowly her smile faded.
"I left Regalia for a little while too actually. Recently I could return."
Fen'nan took the second plate, leaning over the kitchen counter to dump the burnt contents out the window, discarding the plate in the sink. With a long, sullen glance back at her own plate, she repeated the action with her own dinner, before closing the window. Her appetite vanished, much like her partner had in her absence. She was alone. Utterly, entirely alone.
"To my surprise, Milo found love. You'll be pleased to know she's better then the majority of the last ones. I'm glad for him, few deserve love more then he."
Fen'nan lifted her dark, ocean eyes from the sink, staring at the windows reflection of her. The red in her hair a beacon. The identity behind who she was. What she'd become. Fen'nan, red, the Solvaan. Suddenly she hated it. Hated the lie of it.
"My last letters to you were lies..."
Floorboards creaked as she turned, descending the stairs into further darkness, the stairway dimly lit with only a few candles. Continuing past the smoke-room, and deeper.
"I was not free, and therefore I was not me. Though I am now. Mostly. Me and you hold different definitions of what I am, though, I think yours was always the closest then others. I hope."
Her surroundings remained just as dim. The bathing chamber, much lovelier then the rest of the home, adorned with multiple candles on each wall, though only several were lit, casting the room into a long shadows. Elaborate, landscape paintings of jungles hung on the walls over the still pool of water.
"The problem with being free, with the storm passing, is the memories left of it in its wake. Those are harder to get rid of."
With a few fluid maneuvers, she let her clothes fall from her, slowly descending the few steps into the pool. The water rose to her waist, enveloping and caressing each old and new scar alike. The desolation of her home left her with an aching pit in her stomach.
"When I left the last storm of my old life in Ithania, I decided to become someone who would never be chained again."
Again her red hair stuck out in the black waters reflection, the more she stared down at it. Except it wasn't a beacon, it was a thorn, pricking her mind each time she saw herself, knowing all she'd appeared was a facade, a lie. To her. To her friends.
"And yet. There was Julius, then the other. So what is she now, more then a tired lie?"
With hesitant fingers, slowly did her calloused fingertips reach upwards and release the pin that held her hair into a loose bun, crimson waves tumbling down freely. Eyes burning with tears, she swallowed thickly. Fear had her bones jittering, hesitating. Did she want to see the girl she'd abandoned so many years ago? Embrace who she was? And yet—could she continue to live as she was now?
"I can't do it anymore. I can't be this anymore. Before it kills me."
Fen'nan closed her eyes, but a tear escaped down her cheek anyway. Intaking air into her lungs, she submerged herself in darkness, water filling her ears, yet her heartbeat roared. She did not reach for her dye this time. Did not remerge. Red stained the water around her, blossoming around her like a flower, crimson washing away. Just once. She wanted to see herself just once.
"For years I've lived a crimson lie. No more. If I will change anything, it will be as myself. My face, my race. Free.."
The empty pit in her stomach gnawed at her, digging itself deeper and deeper, her lungs constricting more and more the longer she remained under, submerged in darkness and yet... There was a weight that floated away with the dye, a release of chains. Free—she screamed. Screamed into the darkness, into the silence, until she hurt a little less. She knew. Knew it was temporary. That she'd rather live a lie then live a far more painful truth.
"I miss you. I miss all of you. I miss the noise in my home, the hollering at Violets. I miss the castle in Crookback, the fishing on the docks. I miss getting embarrassed at the temple. I miss food that's cooked right and I miss talking for hours. But I would change nothing. You're all exactly where you need to be. Where I want you to be. Happy. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied. Sorry they won't know why I did what I did."
An hour later, Fen'nan silently sat before her desk. Silence, loneliness driving her to pick up a pen. To write towards the friend who'd found his own peace. Candlelight flickered as she pen scribbled across parchment, wet, light teal hair dripping water unto her lap. The Minoor, no Solvaan at all, desperate to write out the truth. To talk, to anyone.
"Gods I wish you could read this..."
Fen'nan briefly paused her writing, reaching upwards to wipe her teary eyes once.
"But you can't."
Fen'nan lifted the lengthy letter, hovering the paper over the flames until it set alight, burning and curling away into nothing but ash. She could not ever send him such, because she would not risk his return. And she—she could never be thought to have her own struggles either. With a final glance to the ash of the letter, she flicked her wrist, the pile scattering into the air. With an exhaled sigh, torn from the depths of her tired soul, her fingers grasped a new sheet of parchment, and so she crafted another lie again. Just as she knew her hair would only be stained red again.
"Dear Deldrax,
I'm doing corking, obviously..."
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