She dreamt in technicolor.
And— in the lime light of dissipated realities, the changeling fell into a land where the colors brightened into wildflower fields and separated forest trees.
Breathing, reminded of Khusobek and the running river. Here, the powdery scents of violets coated her. And in the face of a starlit sky, she could see the constellations of new life. Like the world had spun for her and the gods had gently placed their new soul in a demonic imp down into a land she’d never see. A brief piece of the heavens, where Olympus held their mighty men, where Ra communed among Zeus.
For a moment, she wondered if Death frowned upon her. If the escape of his grasp was tauntingly frustrating. If this time, life would not be crueler than it ever was as punishment. She ran the fields with laughter, petals erupting in her trail behind kicking feet. The imp’s laughter was airy, almost inaudible, flinging through the delicate colors below like a child who had been freed. A secret! A secret! That perhaps she had learned to like something new. It had been true before— that she had never seen flowers before being brought into Akashingo.
Squinty eyes, spire ears flopping around with quick head shakes and fawn like jumps. A silent mover, but a wild one. Wild hearted, no matter how broken. Oh, how broken.
Did Death know?
And— in the lime light of dissipated realities, the changeling fell into a land where the colors brightened into wildflower fields and separated forest trees.
Breathing, reminded of Khusobek and the running river. Here, the powdery scents of violets coated her. And in the face of a starlit sky, she could see the constellations of new life. Like the world had spun for her and the gods had gently placed their new soul in a demonic imp down into a land she’d never see. A brief piece of the heavens, where Olympus held their mighty men, where Ra communed among Zeus.
For a moment, she wondered if Death frowned upon her. If the escape of his grasp was tauntingly frustrating. If this time, life would not be crueler than it ever was as punishment. She ran the fields with laughter, petals erupting in her trail behind kicking feet. The imp’s laughter was airy, almost inaudible, flinging through the delicate colors below like a child who had been freed. A secret! A secret! That perhaps she had learned to like something new. It had been true before— that she had never seen flowers before being brought into Akashingo.
Squinty eyes, spire ears flopping around with quick head shakes and fawn like jumps. A silent mover, but a wild one. Wild hearted, no matter how broken. Oh, how broken.
Did Death know?
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