[ Post a Response | Prayer ]
Posted by Megumi on 9/26/2008, 9:20 pm, in reply to "...:We Are So Cold:..."
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There was a kind of abstract beauty about this place of solitude and death, Megumi mused. It was not the lack of life or the ancient stones that stood within the boundaries of these sacred lands which enchanted her, but rather the peace and the contemplative echoes that dripped slowly into the mind and hearts of those who visited. It was as if the spirits of the past whispered soft wisdom to such strangers, offering comfort and encouragement to the soul. It was all they might offer now, but there was a gentle understanding that seemed unique to this place. Perhaps, her own ancestors shared their unspoken guidance with the she-wolf now. Or maybe they had also forsaken her. Though that second thought was more permeating, Megumi could not allow herself to entertain it for longer than a moment. As empty as this place was, it was impossible to feel alone.
Her quiet musings had been spoken aloud, and while part of the wolfess hoped that she would be rewarded with her bold request, the other knew that this world was not yet done with her. She had made little of her life save countless mistakes. It was impossible to think that such misjudgments and misappropriations would be the only legacy she would leave behind.
Legacy. Once, that had been the most important duty in her life. The legacy of her parents, the legacy of Tazendre. Of that legacy, but one dwindling thread remained.
As far as she knew, Joukai still lived. That weak, somber little pup with his gentle heart and his complacent will...how was he now? Was she yet a grandmother? Was she the mother to an unrelated daughter now? Perhaps her son was happy, perhaps he was a stronger and more righteous creature than his parents had ever been. Or perhaps he had become his father.
Megumi had slipped once again into her thoughts, eyes closed as she struggled to recall what her son had looked like. How would he appear now? Would she even recognize him? Would he recognize her? It was painful to think how long they had been separated, to think that it had been her stupidity and desire for power that had driven him away. She had been a poor mother, a poor mate, a poor mistress.
A voice spoke suddenly, so close that the she-wolf was uncommonly startled. Her eyes snapped open and narrowed with the sudden influx of light, struggling to focus upon the subject that had disturbed her peace. When she did, she feared she might be hallucinating.
“Child of Frost?” she whispered, her voice a croaking sigh. Could it really be him? It was, she knew it by the tone of his voice as he spoke to her, the quiet anger in his words, the lingering heartbreak that had never fully vanished. She knew him almost better than she knew herself. It could be no other. For that moment, it seemed her heart had stopped and the world itself came to a grinding halt.
“A flower cannot hurt, Child of Frost...and nor can it hurt others,” she added after a moment, her eyes glossy with the pain of memory. “No flower has any reason to be jealous of such a wretch as the one who abused you.”
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