#eventidc

                    ⤿ @eventidc​ said :  “ you need to rest. ” [for Caleb]

CALEB’S SPELLBOOK RESTS WITHIN A SEA of fine parchment . ink is spattered across the pages -- DELIBERATELY , for the most part , but as weariness presses further upon him , his mistakes begin to MULTIPLY . it’s unbecoming , really , but the wizard feels no desperate need to whip himself into shape . he’s so CLOSE to being finished . 

“ not yet , ” is caleb’s hoarse response , several beats too late . he’s DISTRACTED -- or , perhaps , his mind is not working as swiftly as he believes . shadows hang heavily beneath his bright blue eyes .

Perhaps there was a time when she saw the world differently. Or maybe the Zemnian fairytales of her youth – brutal as they were – squashed out that naiveté before it could truly take root. Regardless: she can’t remember seeing the world as anything but cruel. “ I’ve yet to meet anyone not guilty of hurting someone . ”

THE    FIVE    SENSES    /     SENTENCE    STARTERS  .

    She INSTANTLY recognizes her.

   It’s been YEARS at this point, and they’ve both changed, but it’s unmistakably  her, and Astrid has to force the memories that threaten to rise up into the back of her head, where she had safely stored them away for so long. 

   Nobody ever gets out of Blumenthal and those small villages. No. That’s not true. Bren, Wulf and her have gotten out, so it’s foolish to believe that others don’t. Especially her, leaving before Astrid even did, she should have known that their paths would CROSS again.

   Fortunately she’s thought about keeping the glamour up, even if all it does is hide the SCARS she really doesn’t want to talk about. 

@eventidc​

As common as blooming dandelions amidst the Spring art bandits come a’ground, and doth Roland scoff hard, and mind his breathing, whence he tucks a careful bandage ‘round her lacerated arm.

“A scratch, she doth speak,” monologues dramatic Roland, as his brow is furrow’d and ever-worried, and dost indeed his fingers tremble by this crimson quantity? Dost his nose curl by the fresh stink of iron blood? “A wound as wide as a tree branch is thine measure, new friend, and thou art brush’d me aside by kindness or by mere Pride of thy Infinity. Is thus thine only wound?” Aft his own limping from a cruel kick and scuffed of a bruised eye and swollen cheek dost Roland eye her, and imagine such invisible hurts.

“Compassion is not weakness.” - @eventidc​ 

     taylor swift fearless memes

   She LAUGHS at the words, eyes fixing on the other girl. They’ve made it this far, and yet she hasn’t actually thought she’d be going in alone. Not that Astrid minds, but it’s more fun if they go together. 

   The mines have been here much longer than EITHER of them can remember, but they’re not in use anymore, and there’s a whole lot of legends about what’s actually down there now. It’s piqued her interest though, so here’s where Astrid finds herself one late afternoon, the sun almost setting over the horizon.

“We don’t have to be, I’d even say it’s been too long.”

There’s a slight bit of hope in her voice at first that soon wavers. They’re adults now, their paths wildly different.

Even if those memories make her wistful, make her yearn for a childhood she looked back on fondly, there’s no point in pretending they’re anything more than strangers now. Things change, people change, even something as eternal as the moon changes it’s faces nightly. A small part of her wonders just how much has changed, but it doesn’t seem like the time to ask. In fact, Rae can’t help but think she’ll never truly realise just how much has changed.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t cherish what was. Even if nothing remains.”

She can’t freely talk about what she does, and she never would, and yet Astrid knows that nothing’s the same anymore. She’s not that bright, carefree girl running through the fields anymore, and she’s never going to be that girl again, and she tries not to think about it too much, but it doesn’t help that she’s come across Rae now. It’s bad enough that Bren is at the sanatorium, reminding her of what they’ve done, but this...this isn’t good. 

“What is there to cherish if nothing remains?”

It’s almost funny, because she has no idea that really nothing remains. Astrid briefly wonders if she’s been back home at all. if she knows that Astrid’s parents are gone, dead and buried, or if she assumes they’re just living their mundane life, still running that bakery. It doesn’t really matter.