#we weep

And We waited.

They broke the bindings without a second thought for consequence, for what it was they were truly crying out for.

We knew pity, then. We knew sorrow. 

The Children never seem to understand that their actions send ripples throughout everything they touch - everything that touches that. They are still so young, their existence but a fleeting sigh before darkness sets in.

If they had stopped to listen, they may have heard Our weeping as We were released, as those ripples brushed against Us.

We weep still

And We wait.

We wait for the light to set in their eyes, We wait for their heats to harden until they lament that love had ever made its home there.

And then We will come.

We come in silence, in shadow and in mist.

We come in doubt, in grief and in sorrow.

We know and do not know how their ends will come and We weep to lose a single soul.

They won’t know - they can’t see how far they are from redemption, though it is right where they fell.

The poor fools.

The viscous bastards.

“That’s enough, little ones.” Lefay let out a tired sigh as another swarm of drones fly back to their hive. Her bright green eyes looked up at the sky, searching for Azeyma to see how late it was. “It’s overcast, when did that happen?” As she moved to stand up, she suddenly faltered, legs giving out from under her as she exited her sitting pose. The small Seeker thumped to the ground, groaning at her stiff legs, slowly rubbing them. A curious bee buzzed to her cheek, then another few to her legs. “I’m fine, I must have been sitting there for more bells than I thought.”

Slower this time, Lefay found her way to her feet and stretched, then went to the basin next to her. The light thin cheesecloth over it had let the bees sting without catching their stingers and ripping out their insides, though a good deal of the venom had clung to the cloth and evaporated before it could be properly captured in the basin. With a steady hand, she poured two vials worth and stopped them off. “Alright, that’s it. That’s the last hive.”  The bee on her cheek explored some more, prompting a little giggle from the young woman. “I’ll miss you too, but I hope we won’t have need of you again after this. Of your venom, at least.”

Things had been the most peaceful they’d ever been for Faolan in years. Ever since he’d started this quest to get his memories back, it had been one battle after another. Despite what he’d seen in Mor Dhona, everything was rather quiet for him and he’d been able to conduct his research in peace. He had been able to further his knowledge on aether to improve his technology, and was piecing together a mechanism that would recognize his biological make-up. At least, that was the goal...

As he was sitting at his workbench to piece the base of the design together, something called out to him. It was faint, almost like a whisper. He lifted his gaze from his work once he heard it.

“ We are everything and nothing.”

Faolan lifted an eyebrow at this and glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was there. He could swear that he was in his house alone, but someone just spoke to him. “Felicienoix? Is that you?” He called out, but he didn’t get an answer. Not that he expected much; Felicienoix was not someone that would speak in such a cryptic manner. Besides, his lover hadn’t been home in quite some time. The voice rings out once again.

“When will the Children see? Without Us, they would not exist. Without them, We would not thrive. We only desire to give them what they want.”

Now, Faolan stood up from his desk, turning to face the rest of the room behind him. Everything was as it should be. The voice was soft and he couldn’t pinpoint its source. It seemed to be coming from within him, blending with his own thoughts. As he stared at the emptiness before him, a scowl came to his face.

It was very much like one of Keane’s mind games, but the way that it spoke was very different. Non-specific and yet...Faolan could feel something pulling at him, urging him to take action. To seek what he had lost, to take back what he’d desired to all this time. Faolan shook his head, pushing the temptation away.

“These tricks don’t work on me,” He muttered. “I don’t know who you are, but it’s not going to work.” He decided to brush it off, and if it continued, he knew not to give in.

The next few nights, a different theme seemed to plague his dreams. Keane’s nightmares were a thing of the past. In every dream, he was reaching for something that was barely out of his reach. One more step, and he’d be able to get there. A bit of help and he’d have it. He wasn’t even sure what it was, just that he needed it. His memories? Maybe. Peace of mind? Perhaps. Or it could be the strength to protect what mattered to him.

He had done so much fighting, so much work to protect the realm, and yet he always seemed to be a step behind. He hadn’t heard any more whispers in several days, but suddenly, once he awoke to another one of those dreams, he heard it again.

“We have heard you, sweet Children. We have heard you call out to Us. We have heard you scream and cry.

We know how it must frighten you.

Such questions, such uncertainty that plagues your waking and sleeping minds. Such vivid dreams – such lies you spin for yourselves, assuming you are safe within their webs.

We know what you’ve done and We know what is yet to come. There is no shelter in mortals, no light that can o’ercast Our shadow. We were here before. We will be here again. And We desire you to be with Us always.

Come before it is too late. Come before the rage of the storm cannot be placated. Come and know safety. Come and know completion.

For We are the Contagion, the Eater of Dreams, the Terror that Walketh in the Darkness.

And Our Reckoning comes.”

Faolan sat up and hopped out from the side of his bed, a scowl once again appearing on his face and his hands clenched into fists. “If that’s what you are, then I’m not interested in helping you.” He didn’t even know who he was talking to, but he felt compelled to respond anyway. Maybe he was going crazy. “My job is to protect the realm, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Just as he had rejected the whispers, he felt something in his chest. Something painful. He clenched his shirt and hunched over, but he wouldn’t yield so easily.

“You won’t win!”

Soulless. 

Sightless. 

Faceless.

We are everything and nothing. 

When will the Children see? Without Us, they would not exist. Without them, We would not thrive. We only desire to give them what they want. Chaos. Destruction. Bedlam. Their very beings were created from Our precious flesh, each carrying a piece of Ourselves within them. Yet they would deny this, refusing to see what is real within them. They lie no better than when they lie to themselves. Yet We have seen their nightmares.

We have seen their dreams.

Do they know how We sing for them? How We mourn? How we Rejoice? They have always been close to the abyss that is Our heart. How long before they comprehend? All We want is for them to love Us. To hate Us. To die for Us. They will come. They will seek Us out and We will embrace them as Our own. They will deny Us and We will weep for them even as We drown them. We will watch and enjoy them in their self-imposed amphitheater of agony.