[M] nothing's ever really gold anymore

POSTED: Fri Apr 27, 2018 5:39 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Read only. PP approved. Part of this thread, but this is my only post.

Day by day, the Dawnbringer-Sadira family healed its winter wounds and bound themselves even tighter together with the loss of Shiloh. Dove could only observe their grief from the outside looking in, but she did not go without opened wounds herself. The resurgence and consequent fall of Mistral de l’Or that winter sprung back heartfelt memories of the sister lost to the manic dog’s poison in summers past. The nagging thoughts returned, leaving clawmarks along her inner skull: What should she have done differently? Had she torn her family apart after Saffron was gone? Should she have gone home?

With Mistral’s demise, some might have said Saffron had been avenged. Dove couldn’t stand to think about it. When she left with Gaia, she went to clear her mind, to soak herself in early spring and refresh her spirit just as the earth mother refreshed her own. Dove did not mention her qualms—Mistral's death, visions of Saffron's body in the waves, the starving Inferni up north she abandoned, the Salsolan child she agreed to kidnap. No, they made light conversation. Harmless conversation. The Reverie asked once how she was faring in a generalized sense, and following that, they never breached personal topics again.

They found those otherworldly flowers along the coast, their blossoms like the beacons of old lighthouses watching the sea. She was rooted as strong as the stalks to the earth by awe. Between the nomadic Juniper Peace and her travels across Nova Scotia, never before had Dove seen or imagined such a thing, and the sheer beauty and majesty stole her breath. They were like symbols of the earth’s resiliency, like a political move to show the earth mother’s power and resurgence following winter. They were surrounded by fauna at peace—birds, deer, creatures one with the earth, all undaunted by the arrival of predators—and so Dove looked upon the flowers and saw them as a beacon of hope.

The aroma on the breeze was utterly intoxicating, like berries and sugars and the crisp leaves of autumn.

Intrigued, Gaia started in towards them while Dove put herself back together, shaking off the daze. At once she was assaulted by imagined faces she'd failed and by her anxieties, but they were hazed and quiet as if numbed by drink. She expected the doe lingering near the flowers to spook when Gaia approached, but it didn’t. It was as drawn as she; as peaceful as she.

It neared the cliff’s edge and numbly stepped off. The back hooves were the last Dove saw of it.

Half-aware, Dove made a subtle but alerted sound that might have been a shriek given full cognition. She cursed, much more terrified in her mind than on her numbed lips, and she gasped, “Gaia, did you see that?”

Gaia did nothing. She said nothing. She continued walking.

The Reverie rose to her feet. “Gaia?” Her head was spinning. She tasted sunflower seeds on her tongue one second and looked for Pilot, her raven. They were his favorite. In the next she tasted blueberries instead, and looked for a lazy Salvador sleeping under a tree. She couldn’t find any of them. She didn’t understand where they’d gone so quickly.

Then she found the flower again, and all these things drifted away without notice. Something vague and quiet in the back of her mind brought her back to reality. “Hey, the deer,” she called. “It’s already gone, Gaia, it’s... Hey...”

Something was wrong. In a way Dove could not explain, she recognized a mirror of Gaia’s walk with that of the doe, now cascaded off the cliff. No words in her mind made sense of this, but her body moved with a sluggish sense of urgency and understanding. When Gaia started to stray too close to the edge, the Reverie slurred in attempts to make her stop. Dove didn’t know why. She scarcely recognized she had spoken up at all.

By the time the Reverie reached her, she'd forgotten why she’d come. Perhaps it by distraction of her arrival that Gaia stopped. They stood together at the precipice, the haze not shattered but shaken by their shared presence, a tremble beneath their feet as the waves crashed against the flat cliffside immediately below. The blossom, its stalk spiraling into the sky, smiled down upon them like a visiting sun.

She smiled back up at it and said, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Then, calm as her family name, she stepped off the edge.

Dove saw Saffron standing in the waves on the way down, opening her arms to her sister, and then the fledgling was gone.

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
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Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors