Beautiful End (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beautifulend) wrote2020-08-24 02:22 pm
beautifulend) wrote2020-08-24 02:22 pm
Memory 2 🌙 A Lunar's Place
Somehow, you were separated from your pack.
Well, that's not quite accurate, is it? No, there's no "somehow". You ran off like the stupid animal you are. You were baited, and now you're trapped in the voluminous depths of a lonely ruin, one that stinks of death and decay and emptiness. A hazy glow cascades down from the ceiling, blanketing the room you're in in what looks and feels like a sick perversion of your Lady's comforting light.
But you had to come down here. You had to follow the scent. After all - it was your mate's. Your long lost beloved other half, with whom you'd never be complete. After throwing yourself into the jaws of death so many times in the name of what was taken away from you, isn't it only right that you'd do so once more now that it's finally something in reach?
Still, there's no life down here. No real light. You can feel your mate nearby, but - even that feeling is lukewarm and faded, like the warmth of a setting sun. Like the light of a smouldering flame, it's something that yearns to be snuffed out. For the first time since you lost everything important to you, you're scared.
But you press on. Salvation is so close, isn't it? And that's when you find your mate, crouched at a ruined altar. So wonderful, so beautiful - even if it's a completely different person this time around, you know - the spark inside of that body is the one you are destined to. This is your Solar, who you are pledged to watch over and fight alongside for as long as you both live.
But then the figure stands up, and turns to you, and when it pulls back its hood you don't see the fervent light you expect. You don't see the bright features, the glimmering eyes, and you don't feel the warmth of the sun itself. No, her face is as dark and cold as this place is. Her skin is sallow and pale, her features sunken. Her eyes are a dull red, like blood that's gone still for too long. Light dances across her, but it's of a forboding and lonesome sort.
This is not your Solar. It's a parody of what a Solar ought to be, it's a joke, it's - it's -
"Oh, so you came. The methods of old still work, I see."
You tremble. Your chest tightens. It's almost too much, because it is your beloved. You know that. You couldn't be wrong. Your heart wouldn't lie. But it hurts, because this is wrong, wrong, wrong, it's all wrong -
"What do they call you in this age, dear?"
You move your mouth, but no sound comes out the first time. The world swims around you, darkness creeping at the corners of your vision. You recognize the feeling, from your memories of lives long past - and from the faces of your prey in this life here and now, just seconds before you've caught them. You try again, and you manage to stammer out:
"I-It's - â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– ."
"Oh, what a pretty name. How fitting, for what you are."
And then she yanks her hand, as if yanking a leash. And as if bound, you stumble closer to her. Feelings fill your heart, ones you'd not felt for ages. Love (the real kind), happiness, joy, fulfillment, and an eagerness to do whatever you must to make sure the person in front of you feels the same. But at the same time, something else seeps in - whispers of the dead and dying, their pain and suffering, the eternal cacophony of those resigned to the pits of Creation - a call for all things to come to an end, for final mercy and peaceful silence to come to all those cursed by the light of life.
It is, once again, a terrible mirror of everything you'd once known. Ages past, when you and your mate wanted to make a better world -
"I-I don't -"
"You do." she walks up to you, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek. Of course, you let her. There's nothing that you could do to stop her. "You'll help me again, won't you? To salvage the remains of our unfinished mission. To bring mercy to those who struggle in this awful, awful world."
You try to back away, but you can't. You don't want to. Not really. At the same time, two distinct feelings bubble up in your heart, fighting for dominance:
You want to embrace her, to cry, and to be happy forevermore at your beloved's side.
You want to embrace her, to cry, and to tear this disgusting monster limb from limb and save the world from its dread.
But you can't choose. You want them both as much as the other, so you stand there, paralyzed. "I can't -"
"You remember a Lunar's place, don't you?"
Slowly, you nod. She smiles gently, so gently it almost melts your heart, and continues.
"Some say a Lunar's place is in a shallow grave, alongside the tyrants they aid and abet. Some say a Lunar's place is beneath them, blissfully screaming their name. But a Lunar's place, the place where they're most happy? You and I both know that. Lunars are a weapon to wielded gracefully by those who know how to use them. They say a sword chooses its wielder, â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– . Based on who's worthy. But I think we both know who you'll choose, right? Those idiots you've thrown your lot in with couldn't do half of what we did together, back then. Remember the smiles of everyone we saved? Things have changed, and maybe when we're done we won't see those smiles anymore, but...you still know what the right choice is, right?"
For some reason, you can't help but think she sounds sad. Forlorn. Lost. No, she definitely is. You can feel that. You can feel her heart breaking at the idea of carrying out whatever it is she's planning on carrying out. But -
But -
You do know your answer. There's nothing more important in this world than to bring mercy to those who need it. And you know a Lunar's place. You know what you are. What you always have been. Even when you were alone, fighting the usurpers - a weapon without direction, slaughtering indiscriminately - you knew.
"I love y - "
And then everything goes white, as you're thrown backwards onto the ground when the wall behind you both explodes inward. A Solar, a proper Solar, stands straight and burns bright, fist outstretched. Golden light dances around him, light forming an image of the shining sun on his forehead, as he scowls at your mate. "Get away from her," he growls, as two others flank him - another Solar and a girl you know to be a child of the dragons, though not one aligned with those who you hunt.
Your pack has found you. And somehow, despite your unending relief, you feel angry that they have.
Well, that's not quite accurate, is it? No, there's no "somehow". You ran off like the stupid animal you are. You were baited, and now you're trapped in the voluminous depths of a lonely ruin, one that stinks of death and decay and emptiness. A hazy glow cascades down from the ceiling, blanketing the room you're in in what looks and feels like a sick perversion of your Lady's comforting light.
But you had to come down here. You had to follow the scent. After all - it was your mate's. Your long lost beloved other half, with whom you'd never be complete. After throwing yourself into the jaws of death so many times in the name of what was taken away from you, isn't it only right that you'd do so once more now that it's finally something in reach?
Still, there's no life down here. No real light. You can feel your mate nearby, but - even that feeling is lukewarm and faded, like the warmth of a setting sun. Like the light of a smouldering flame, it's something that yearns to be snuffed out. For the first time since you lost everything important to you, you're scared.
But you press on. Salvation is so close, isn't it? And that's when you find your mate, crouched at a ruined altar. So wonderful, so beautiful - even if it's a completely different person this time around, you know - the spark inside of that body is the one you are destined to. This is your Solar, who you are pledged to watch over and fight alongside for as long as you both live.
But then the figure stands up, and turns to you, and when it pulls back its hood you don't see the fervent light you expect. You don't see the bright features, the glimmering eyes, and you don't feel the warmth of the sun itself. No, her face is as dark and cold as this place is. Her skin is sallow and pale, her features sunken. Her eyes are a dull red, like blood that's gone still for too long. Light dances across her, but it's of a forboding and lonesome sort.
This is not your Solar. It's a parody of what a Solar ought to be, it's a joke, it's - it's -
"Oh, so you came. The methods of old still work, I see."
You tremble. Your chest tightens. It's almost too much, because it is your beloved. You know that. You couldn't be wrong. Your heart wouldn't lie. But it hurts, because this is wrong, wrong, wrong, it's all wrong -
"What do they call you in this age, dear?"
You move your mouth, but no sound comes out the first time. The world swims around you, darkness creeping at the corners of your vision. You recognize the feeling, from your memories of lives long past - and from the faces of your prey in this life here and now, just seconds before you've caught them. You try again, and you manage to stammer out:
"I-It's - â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– ."
"Oh, what a pretty name. How fitting, for what you are."
And then she yanks her hand, as if yanking a leash. And as if bound, you stumble closer to her. Feelings fill your heart, ones you'd not felt for ages. Love (the real kind), happiness, joy, fulfillment, and an eagerness to do whatever you must to make sure the person in front of you feels the same. But at the same time, something else seeps in - whispers of the dead and dying, their pain and suffering, the eternal cacophony of those resigned to the pits of Creation - a call for all things to come to an end, for final mercy and peaceful silence to come to all those cursed by the light of life.
It is, once again, a terrible mirror of everything you'd once known. Ages past, when you and your mate wanted to make a better world -
"I-I don't -"
"You do." she walks up to you, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek. Of course, you let her. There's nothing that you could do to stop her. "You'll help me again, won't you? To salvage the remains of our unfinished mission. To bring mercy to those who struggle in this awful, awful world."
You try to back away, but you can't. You don't want to. Not really. At the same time, two distinct feelings bubble up in your heart, fighting for dominance:
You want to embrace her, to cry, and to be happy forevermore at your beloved's side.
You want to embrace her, to cry, and to tear this disgusting monster limb from limb and save the world from its dread.
But you can't choose. You want them both as much as the other, so you stand there, paralyzed. "I can't -"
"You remember a Lunar's place, don't you?"
Slowly, you nod. She smiles gently, so gently it almost melts your heart, and continues.
"Some say a Lunar's place is in a shallow grave, alongside the tyrants they aid and abet. Some say a Lunar's place is beneath them, blissfully screaming their name. But a Lunar's place, the place where they're most happy? You and I both know that. Lunars are a weapon to wielded gracefully by those who know how to use them. They say a sword chooses its wielder, â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– â– . Based on who's worthy. But I think we both know who you'll choose, right? Those idiots you've thrown your lot in with couldn't do half of what we did together, back then. Remember the smiles of everyone we saved? Things have changed, and maybe when we're done we won't see those smiles anymore, but...you still know what the right choice is, right?"
For some reason, you can't help but think she sounds sad. Forlorn. Lost. No, she definitely is. You can feel that. You can feel her heart breaking at the idea of carrying out whatever it is she's planning on carrying out. But -
But -
You do know your answer. There's nothing more important in this world than to bring mercy to those who need it. And you know a Lunar's place. You know what you are. What you always have been. Even when you were alone, fighting the usurpers - a weapon without direction, slaughtering indiscriminately - you knew.
"I love y - "
And then everything goes white, as you're thrown backwards onto the ground when the wall behind you both explodes inward. A Solar, a proper Solar, stands straight and burns bright, fist outstretched. Golden light dances around him, light forming an image of the shining sun on his forehead, as he scowls at your mate. "Get away from her," he growls, as two others flank him - another Solar and a girl you know to be a child of the dragons, though not one aligned with those who you hunt.
Your pack has found you. And somehow, despite your unending relief, you feel angry that they have.