Author Topic: His Green Kingdom  (Read 1096 times)

Blissey

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His Green Kingdom
« on: October 20, 2019, 03:28:01 PM »


Home; where the trees swayed just how you remembered them. The birds sing that very same tune. Where a motherís gentle voice soothed your wounds, and a fatherís guiding hand showed you the way. The smell of freshly baked bread, and the crackling of a homely fireplace. Countless hours lost in the spoils of your innocence. Lost in the hills, there was a virtue in ignorance during these times. For the briefest of moments, these memories and feelings intersect. The world suddenly feels smaller again, and in your very essence, you feel it. Your Green Kingdom.

Marry laid under a strange roof, the hammering of unforgiving rain rattled the already creaking foundations of the Ladyís Rest. Yet all the while, he thought of home. Marry was not plighted by sadness, nor was he blessed with happiness. He walked the line that narrowly separated these feelings apart. A condition that was irrevocable, for it was his Green Kingdom that tore at his being. He didnít quite know what to make of his condition, was it something to grieve for? Or was this something he should appreciate?  Within the murk of his room, a candle was lit by him. The shadows illuminated the walls like puppets, vanishing momentarily under the bright flash of thunder. The body which shared his bed beside him sturred, yet did not awaken. Wrapped within his embrace, Piper slept soundly. Was home a person, and not a place? Was it where, when he slept, he slept soundly in anotherís arms? Ruminations that distracted him from his condition, a temporary solution to a feeling that might never fade.

Yet still, even in his loverís embrace, he thought of home. Staring up into the oaken carapace of a ceiling, his eyes rested upon a spider sowing a web. How many webs had this spider sown? In how many different places? Vagrancy. A treasured trait that everyone but Marry could hold. He longed for that, though, he could never shake away the thoughts of Luirwood. Though many nights and days were spent traversing the woods of Barovia, Hazlan, Dementlieu. In each intricate detail, each tint of green and each falling leaf did Marry so desperately seek out a similarity. Be that as it may, the trees swayed in divergence. The birds sang a different song. No green was greener than home, he thought. No matter how hard he believed he had found home in his lover, in Piper. No matter how truly he had believed that Luirwood was but a past memory. His Green Kingdom crept into his mind like an illness, or a reminder, of what he once had, who he once was, and who he could have been.

Blissey

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #1 on: October 22, 2019, 04:20:44 AM »


He danced that night. Not even the stars nor the radiance of the moon penetrated the veil of midnight, all except the embers of the campfire. He danced for a shadow he did not know existed till he felt it's hands grasp him. One at his waist, and one interlinked between his fingers. How had he not felt this connection before? One he had feigned, one he had ignored. Yet it took one dance, the illustration of his figure etched into the stark grey face of a rock. Yet he was not alone, his shadow was there too. It felt familiar. For once, even by himself, he did not feel alone. But this was no friend of his, this figure was alien, incomprehensible and entirely devoid of the virtues of life. It knew only Marry's fears. It knew who he was right down to the marrow within his bones. The shadow whispered, voiceless. It spoke only through memory, only through the thoughts and feelings Marry had so desperately defended, ones he had so painstakingly forced down to the darkest caverns of his brain.


'She was not safe. She will never be safe. Fight all you can, and in the end, they will die. Your pain will be permanent, etched into your skin and within your eyelids, you will see them. She called out to you, but you did not defend her. She died within the womb, you were selfish, ignorant. You let her die.

But there is one more, one more love you seek to protect. Protect her you may, but you know, in your bones, in your mind, she will die too. One day, she will call out your name, and you will not be there to protect her. To defend her. To love her. To share a bed with her one last time.

Your failures are your fears. You succumb to them like a foul poison when it enters your blood. You would lay down sooner, curl into a ball and cry. To die knowing you did nothing. That is your destiny. Yet you are stubborn. You will fight with all you have and all you can give. With your blade, you will fight truer than any before you. Truer than any of your kin. For you love her, like no one else.'


Yet here Marry was, facing the shadow which whispered this bile into his ear. With a gulp of the saliva within his mouth that had all but dried, sharply his voice croaked. It was true. All of it. For so long, he had fought himself. He fought the idea that failure can be defeated just like any other enemy. For so long he had been wrong, the words cracked him and sealed the wound in a cycle that maimed him far worse than any blade. It cut and tore, his viscera and guts spilled out before him and were soon sucked back up into his gut. Over, and over. Till it stopped. Till he stared into the shadow that shared his figure. You are right, he thought. And no sooner did the shadow's presence fade. No sooner did it return to where it had been born. Within Marry, within the Hollow.
« Last Edit: October 22, 2019, 04:24:00 AM by Blissey »

Blissey

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #2 on: November 01, 2019, 06:42:34 AM »

The winter night set in. No snow, nor rain gnawed at the silence which enveloped the grove he stood within. The birds had all but left their songs half-sung, the cracking of distant branches ceased and the howls of animals that roamed the night were silenced. The only sound was the dull whistling of the wind, the swaying of leafless trees. He stood alone, or rather, he stood with his back turned to something. His Shadow. The mildew on the grass had dried under the chilled air, and there it stood. A manifestation. The evocation of the Other. The Other of whom? Of someone. The Shadow of someone he knew, all familiar yet not at all. It was a mirror into something colder, darker. The purple eyes that bore into Marry's skull weaved stories without the uttering of a single word.

Was he afraid?

No. For fear of the Other, your Other self was a choice. The self that preserves and holds onto the scars that wound you so deeply, cares for them like a sweet child was not a figure to be feared. So few in this world are allowed to face such a being. To truly face one's own self, and to behold the physical reflection of the thoughts that send your blood running cold. Your mouth becomes dry and there is nothing left to swallow but your fear. There was nowhere left to look but into the eyes that bore your secrets unto you.

Did he accept who he was?

He knew who he was. He knew who they were. He knew what secrets they knew. He was only truly afraid of himself, of the secrets, the pain, guilt. He had faced them. He knew what fears came next. What pain would torment him, what wounds would maim him. Only when you know the fears that haunt you already, will you know the fears that come after.

Was he willing to pay the price?

With the arrow aimed at his heart, he accepted it with open arms. The price? Understanding who you are. The reward? Accepting who you are.

"Fire away."

The air cracked, nocked and released. The arrow sailed through the air, piercing the final semblance of who he once was. It dropped dead, cold and unmoving. It was the final crack that had shattered the blackened window. His eyes peeled open, and there stood his shadow dancing in the midnight. This time, he danced too.

« Last Edit: November 01, 2019, 09:52:58 AM by Blissey »

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #3 on: November 21, 2019, 06:39:59 AM »
Quote
21st Day of the 11th Month

This new. I have never written a journal before. I hate writing in common, it's messy and a little less elegant than Hin in my most unbiased opinion. I've seen Piper writing in her journal before, she seems to get sucked into the words she writes. The things she writes must be very personal, but I don't pry. Writing out your feels, or recounting a day's evens might do me a lot of good. After all my training, after I've finally felt like I've settled in who I want to be and do, I have space in my mind to think about things that are a little less overwhelming. For the first time in a long time, my mind was clear. Thoughtless. It's a strange type of clarity to have something like that, especially when you're not used to it at all. My mind moves so fast sometimes, it's hard to keep up with myself. Words tend to spill out faster than I can think, but that's the old me. The old Marry.

What's even stranger is how different things are now compared to when I first arrived. I was weaker then, naive and a little headstrong. I didn't take things in my stride, I took things for granted, and worst of all I didn't think before I spoke. Some may not understand, but when you come from a life that was simple and you're thrown into a world where choices often lead to life or death situations, it's incredibly daunting. It's easy to get wrapped up in the bad and forget the good. I've made so many memories here, did things I never thought I would. Fighting a dragon, quelling undead, doing battle with incredible warriors and actually standing a chance. If I ever went back home and recounted my tales to my family, they wouldn't believe me at all. Another fib told by Marry.

I miss them dearly. A lot actually, so much sometimes. Every time I wake up, I think of what could be happening at home. Ma's cooking a great big breakfast, Pa howling in frustration at some minor inconvenience in the ranch, not to mention all my siblings running about causing amuck. But of all those good memories, I don't think I would go back. Not without Piper. Home isn't home without her now, I couldn't imagine not waking up to her face in the morning or falling asleep with her in my arms. If this is what love is, then I'm content. She's been my north star throughout my journey here, something that has always focused me and grounded me. Sometimes I wonder why she's even with a dope like me, but I guess that's what love is. Loving someone for who they are entirely. Even through Tilly's passing away, we kept strong for each other. I think it's because we both know what it's like to be lonely in an unfamiliar world, somewhere so unlike home. To be lost in a place like that, it's hard to escape the hole that it puts you in. We pick each other up, dust ourselves off and carry on with our chins held high. Some people may say love makes you do strange things, but all of the things I've done for love I haven't regretted. Not once.

Signing off,
M.B 

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #4 on: November 24, 2019, 06:18:18 AM »

His hatred was a weapon, he thought. His fear was a tool, he thought. With gritted teeth, needled eyes he cut and tore. But all tools break, and the harm he bore unto others was harm he bore unto himself. He was marooned upon a boat with the sails drawn down, the wind pushed and tugged. Battering and crashing into the waves of his untamed ocean. His tools were broken, shattered. His weapon, maimed and worn by blood. They failed him. Their shattered pieces at his feet. He felt the torrent of water suffocate him, it closed in around and encircled him hungrily. It beckoned to him, a siren's call to put the pieces back together and continue. Fix the tools, clean the weapon. And though he did, the water around him only narrowed. It grew closer, prowling. Hunched under the tall grass, waiting.

Yet, his gaze only regarded his hands, his tools, and his weapon. It was only until he looked up into the sky, the vast horizon and vista of stars and luminescent displays that he had seen it. His north star. Its shine bore a light upon the dark recesses of his ocean. The light had cast away the prowling beast which had surrounded him, and now, the oceans had all but calmed. Gentle waves rocking him. Across the azure blue seas, illuminated, others rode upon their boats. They stared up into the night sky, at their own star. In the maelstrom of hatred and fear, there was a serenity that overtook him. A sense of clarity.

The sails were drawn, and the wind guided him. There was only one direction he could go now. The deep ocean was no longer plagued with frivolous wind or coarse waves. It had its rhythm, as did he. That was the way it was meant to be. A harmonious dance, a rhythmic stepping to and fro. His hands had left the wheel, he surrendered to the wind that guided him. As he closed in, the star's luminosity blinded him. There was only white now, a serene spectacle of nothingness. For a moment, all was quiet, the world was but a muted silence. A familiar presence graced his senses amidst the quiet. She held him tight, arms wrapped around his frame. Then another presence settled just behind him, out of reach but ever watching. It was darker, it's eyes bore sinister intent. He was not threatened, for it's eyes were a reminder of his tools and his weapon. Though the looming rumination of losing this serenity, the peace which had engulfed him and the one in his arms, he was not afraid. Even if it had lasted but a moment, he had still felt it and that was enough. He was content with the inevitability, with the uncertainty of how long it might last. As long as he felt the light of his north star, even with its light dimmed into but a tiny speck, Marry would forever sail the calm seas of his ocean.   


Blissey

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #5 on: December 02, 2019, 08:36:16 AM »
Quote
2nd Day of the 12th Month

There is that one moment in your life where you realize that you've lost it all. One single word or action takes it all in one fell swoop, and just like that, you're left with nothing but yourself. That cruel, bitter loneliness which leaves you feeling like a boat lost at sea. But even as I watched him burn in that pyre, watched my ring melt in the heat of the fire's embers, I felt no remorse. I felt no pain, no sadness. Just a swirling hatred that festered like a wound until oozed a green mucus, then sealed when I grew tired of it.

Do I regret it? Do I regret leaving her? Do I regret watching him bleed till he ran dry? Maybe one day I'll have an answer. It feels strange feeling so indefinite, my feelings are almost like a front. But then I begin to ask myself if I felt these things, if I considered these thoughts, where did they come from? I know exactly where they came from. They came from my other self, that same bile that they whisper, I heed it now. I take it to heart because no matter how harsh the truth may be, no matter how desperately I defend a thought or a feeling, it's in vain. The Other moves with me now more than ever, and I embrace it.

I haven't seen Piper since that night. My love for her is... Complicated. It was clear she no longer trusted me, she was afraid of who I was. She was a woman so desperate to defend her own fears and secrets from me. I see what she meant now, I see what she was trying to hide. Nobody ever truly wants to know who you really are, even with someone you love to the moon and back, there are things that cannot be accepted. If only I was as naive as her, if only I was as good as her then our love would have stretched beyond death.

All my time here, all my time with her and throughout all my training - it makes me wonder, who was I really fighting for? Are we really as compassionate as we say we are? We're fickle beings, born into a world that is cruel and hateful. Thrown into a circumstance that is not in our favor. Is it fair that we're selfish? That we're callous? Violent? Manipulative? Yes, yes it is fair. We're all villains in someone's story, and no matter how hard we convince ourselves that we are good, that is a facade acted on a stage for the world to see, and yet nobody sees beyond it. Beyond the lie. That damn woeful lie.

Ic gŠstlufu unc , mŪn blśdnes. On ecnesse.


Signing off,
M.B 
« Last Edit: December 02, 2019, 08:43:43 AM by Blissey »

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #6 on: December 07, 2019, 03:24:31 AM »
Quote
7th Day of the 12th Month

There are times where you find yourself on long walks, aimless. They aren't filled with challenging, tiresome thoughts. They are bland and tasteless, like a Ghastrian meal. While they are tasteless, it's bitter and sour. It makes your tongue shrivel up, your eyes begin to water, your lips grow pale and dry.

I found myself on such a walk today. The Balinoks are beautiful, cold and unforgiving and yet life still prevails there. I found myself on the highest part I could get to which overlooked the vast horizon of Barovia. The skies were clear, a thin blanket of mist had covered the roads and there were only the peaks which touched the sky above. When the tips of your feet sit just over the edge, and you feel the chilling wind maim your bones, that is when the thoughts return. They breach the dam that you have precariously built, the wooden struts crack and yearn under the force until they cannot hold it any longer. Your tears begin to freeze in the cold, staining your cheeks.

A string of thoughts suddenly becomes emotion, and then they are no longer words. Just feelings. I felt their whispers, the Other. Though they were minute. Tiny and incomprehensible. I felt like a person for just a moment, I felt all the things I thought I could not feel any longer. When I had cried all the tears that I could muster, and I had thought of all the things I could've done differently, there was only one single definite choice that remained. Why was it fair for me to do what I did? Why did I think that? I had been no better than the people I had so desperately defended her against. I had become the monster that I drew blood to fight against.

Some ruminate that suicide is a coward's act. I think it requires an immense amount of courage. The courage to put one foot forward and fall and to trust that the pain you feel now won't be felt once you collide with whatever cold surface awaits you and beyond. But as your foot hovers just over nothing, over the cold wind and nothing else, that is when you feel the fear. You begin to ask, what if? The tug and pull of your mind urging you to endure, to endure it for those that love you.

I am a selfish person.

forgive me please

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #7 on: December 15, 2019, 02:59:02 PM »

Silence has a sound. It is when the dawn just peeks over the horizon, it is when nothing breathes. It is when all those that witness it stop in their tracks, look, and listen. Only the light moves, it shimmers through the leaves, reflecting off of broken glass and mildew. It shines on all but one. He rebukes the silence, he loathed it. For it was the silence that reminded him of all that was wrong. It was not calming, it was a wave that hurled him through the air. Though try he did, he never once landed on his feet. There was always a stumble, he tripped and fell over and over. Bruises and scars lashed and maimed his knees and hands. He sought the cure, he sought the clarity which he had felt before. Where the silence no longer hurt him, it no longer angered him. Murder did not cure him. To wash his hands clean of the past and kill the one who sought to ruin it all. He cut and tore, let him bleed till he was dry. Burned all that was left till it was but ash.

The sound of silence lingered.

And after all this time, after all the whispers and promises, after all the shadows had told him - they were still right. He fought with all he had, he bled and he cried. Yet the only death he suffered from was the death of their love. The keen sting of love and it's bittersweet duress. As pure as he may think he was, as true as his intentions may be. He was still a person, vulnerable to his own greed and ego. The greed for something more than he already had, blind with the power of something that could protect her more than he already could. It was enough, but he couldn't see it. He was infallible. A man just like any else. A realization that wracked his mind as the silence overcame him.

The sound of silence lingered.

He set the stage, lights were dimmed and the set made on display. He donned the mask, a macabre grin etched its surface. And there, on the stage before the world and it's people, he danced for a song that nobody but he could hear. The song of silence. His actions animated by the shadow cast onto the floor. One by one, he was no longer alone. Soon, the stage was filled. The ambiance of silence grew louder and louder, till only the static sound of nothing rang true in all that watched on. But to those that danced, a song played again and again.

The sound of silence lingered.

Purity has it's facades. No man or woman is ever truly sinless. That is the everlasting song that we dance to, that he dances to. He, like many others, was merely a vessel occupied by a soul which only desired to live, to survive and to conquer. Man will always strive to battle the fear which guides him, to conquer the demons which retch their soul in two. It is a battle that is everlasting, and only ends once you find yourself defeated. You lay your weapons down and surrender to the tears that well in your eyes. The war that rages within every man, woman, and child is a battle only won when you truly accept that the enemy is unbeatable. He allowed the fear to pass through and over him, it resided within his skin, beneath his eyelids. It guided his hand and blade until one day it whispered back. Dark, slithering hands wrapped around and embraced him. They nurtured with sharp words and painful gestures. And when the final struggle ceased, when he had eased into the embrace of his other, the curtains were called. And as they graced the stage with darkness, an absence of light. Only he remained, dancing for a song that will never cease.

The sound of silence lingered.

Blissey

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #8 on: December 23, 2019, 05:44:05 AM »
Quote
23rd Day of the 12th Month

There's a storm coming. The same storm you can feel in your bones, you need not see the clouds to know that it's there, looming over the horizon. With each passing day, I feel like the people I once knew and trusted were no lesser than those I despise. Hypocrites, liars, arrogant heroes wishing to do 'good' by their selfish idea of righteousness and justice. Some days I feel like I'm talking to walls as now, murder is no longer murder if a group wills it to be. If the 'greater good' says that one must die for the sins of their father or the land at which they protect, it is no longer murder. What a strange world we live in, and how peculiar it must be to believe that the world is torn between both good and evil. The only line which anyone in the Core walks upon is a thin rope. We balance ourselves between lying to those and ourselves about how righteous we are, between accepting the monsters we truly are.

Today, I lied to myself. I told myself that to kill one to save many others was the right thing to do, to spare a woman the pain of an assassin's blades. She was my student. I knew her in another life when I was young and naive. She was a soul tormented by betrayal. She only wished to avenge the one love she had, and for that, I pitied her. One girl against an army of men and women who's only desire was profit. There was no winning, and no matter which way she went out there was always a profit made for them. But I endured. I taught what I could teach, but there is no teaching a hollow shell of a person. One so devoid of even her own soul. Instead, I carried out her revenge for her. The best type of revenge is to not be like your enemy. So I granted her a death, a peaceful death. No blood was spilled, only tears.

The learning never really stops, does it? Every day is a lesson, every death. I learned that often the kindest thing we can bestow to someone that is lost is sweet, final release.

I hope when the day comes, that I am granted the very same mercy so I can drift off into the other side singing my final song to all that I love.

Omnia mors aequat


Signing off,
M.B

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #9 on: January 11, 2020, 03:48:11 PM »
Quote
12th Day of the 1st Month

I feel it now. The feeling when you've tread in a puddle that was, in fact, deeper than you anticipated. Your heart stops for a moment, everything falls in slow motion, you hit the ground and there's nothing for a moment - then there is only pain, and anger, and frustration. I feel this all the time when I try to be someone I'm not. I'm not good, I'm not benevolent or selfless. This mask I wear sticks closer and closer to my skin until the air between it grows so thin that peeling it off means revealing the bare, sticky pink flesh beneath my skin. The true Marry Banbito. I am nothing but a face smiling for the masses, I plea that lives must be saved. I show others that I am kind, thoughtful and that I am everything that makes a great man. What a farce.

I am nothing but a murderer. I thrust away the only person I will ever love and for what? Pride? We really are just fickle beings. I was dealt a winning hand, and I didn't see it. I didn't see that I could've been something more than this. But I see something else now, when I heed their whispers now I shout over them. There is no denying who or what I am anymore. I desire the power to do what I think is right. There is only the justice that you make, you cannot rely on others to follow through or trust in their judgment of one thing or another. Time is a valuable resource, and I will not sit by and watch these false heroes toil away in their words and absent actions. I realize what my true weapon is now. I realize how I can use it, and I realize that the longer I play this game - the longer I walk the walk and talk the talk, that I can pursue this justice the way I deem fit. This time I will not sit by and watch. This time the blade that will be sullied with blood will be mine.

Sometimes in the dead of night, I awake to the sound of knocking. I check the door, ragged eyed and filled with sleep. There is no one. I am at Death's door now, and he is knocking. Hammering that boney fist away against the wood of the door, and when I come walking over, ready to accept it - he reels back. Vanishing. Each time I open the door there is a relief, not because he isn't there, but because I know it's Death's way of saying there is much more needed to be done.

I will finish what I started.

Signing off,
M.B


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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #10 on: February 07, 2020, 12:35:57 PM »

He is the Hollow.

He is his own Shadow.

His whispers are his own now.

He has formed into something else.

A malignent disease.


Cells upon cells upon cells attacked and destroyed. Clawing hands ripped and gnawed. They tore at the sinew, at the stitches which held his form. They removed him from himself. They usurped him. What was he but a Shadow?
Decaying, lingering, lost as the radiant dawn approached.


I TRUSTED YOU!
Always, Dove.
MURDERER!
Life is precious, Dove.
BETRAYER!
Promise me. Promise.
LIAR!
Some secrets are best kept, Dove. Even from me.
DECIEVER!
Never forget me, okay?
DEMON-SPAWN!
You're my dove, Marry. My white dove.
WHAT WOULD SHE THINK OF YOU?!
I'm proud of you, Dove.


THEY'RE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!
Want me to sing you to sleep, Dove?
END YOUR MISERABLE LIFE ALREADY!
I've never loved anyone the way I love you.

COWARD, COWARD, COWARD!
You're the bravest man I've ever known, Dove.




Remember how you'd hold me?
Remember when we first kissed?
Remember why you love me?
Remember where we began?
Remember what we live for?
Remember, Dove.

Remember.
Remember.
Remember.


I love you always.
Dove,
come back to me.

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Re: His Green Kingdom
« Reply #11 on: February 11, 2020, 02:51:26 AM »

"Dove?"

Waves gently skipped across the porcelain white shores, and beyond, azure blue seas - endless, wind caressed his skin, a tender touch.

"I'm here, Dove."

Something silken smooth graced his pale features. A hand. He remembered that touch, he remembered it's delicate feeling. He remembered that sound. Her voice. It felt like a dream, where your body fails to move at your will, the words don't come out like their supposed to. He fought it. He wanted to turn, he wanted to see her.

"Piper?"

The fingers that trailed across his face turned him by his chin. There she was. Angelic light blessed the two of them, that fleeting blinding light faded. The two emeralds beamed at him, with a smile that couldn't be mistaken. A smile that could make his knees turn to wool. Freckles darted across her cheeks, plush red cheeks. Long, silken brown hair. Piper.

"Welcome home, Dove."

"I'm home..."

Was it real? It felt just so. The way she touched him, he could smell the salt in the air, her perfume. Her hair felt real, the very skin upon her cheeks, her lips - pouted and full. Bright as ever. He was home, yet did he deserve this? It didn't matter. He was here now, in this dreamscape, his afterlife, his home with her. That was enough.

"This feels so real..."

"Why should it not be, Dove?"

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, I'm sorry I failed you. I'm so sorry."

Even in this placid landscape, grief wained his voice. Piper's hand squeezed around his own, planting one delicate kiss upon his lips.

"Everything happened the way it happened, Dove. The way it was meant to. You're here now, staring at me. My hand is in yours. I'm happy, are you?"

While the thought lingered, while he believed that all he had done - all the pain, the death and the misery he had caused, life had deemed him worthy. Worthy to spend eternity watching the sun fall just beyond the cusp of the horizon, watching the colors dance and frolic across the clouds. Hues of orange, purple, pink. Tattering of chubby feet pattered along the sand, a little girl. Auburn locks folded into pigtails, beaming hazel eyes. Her tiny arms wrapped around his frame. Tilly.

"Daddy's home!"

There they sat upon the mound of sand. There they watched what would be their sun that set forever. No longer did his shadow cast a silhouette beyond him, no longer did it tower over his figure. It's claws released, howling as it was cast out and into the abyss beyond the endless crystal blue seas.

He found it, his home. In the arms of those he cherished, his lover and his child.






And where the sun shone brightest,
The wind blew the lightest,
Blue gemmed sea bloomed and smooth sands the whitest,
Words mingled,
Lost and found again,
and again,
Signed with love,
in His Green Kingdom




The End.
« Last Edit: February 11, 2020, 02:55:14 AM by Blissey »