Walk | Talk | Think
She could not stop the onslaught of tears that carried with them her heart's ache, and felt rather than saw through the blur of her vision as Jakart swept them away with soft licks. It hurt terribly to know her son, so young with so much life ahead of him, was now here with her in the afterlife and would no longer have a chance to build a life for himself among others. That he had ended up where she and Bane resided was a small blessing, but Tahlia could no longer be so selfish as to wish her family dead with her when they deserved so much more.
Her apologies were heard, but their meaning was misinterpreted. Jakart accepted them but for her untimely departure from the living world, speaking that he understood her place had always been with Bane. It was not what she had meant - she was sorrier that he was here to stay now - but it was still true enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes and a renewed sense of guilt to her conscience. "I'm sorry," Tahlia whispered again, remembering only vague details of those last days of her life and how little of it she had actually been mentally present for. It had not been fair to her children who were suffering with their own grief, who had needed someone stable to get them through it, for her to leave them as she had. But they were strong, she realized, stronger even than her, and she was so very glad of it.
As he suddenly went on, Tahlia struggled to restrain her grief enough to follow, and at first did not understand. A woman? What did that have to do with him here? With his wounds? Before she could assume some sorry excuse for a lady had done this to her son and left him for dead, the story became somewhat clearer. A flood? Replaced? It was so tragic, so selfless an act, that she was even more proud of her son for his quick action in saving another life, but the severity of that act was not as tragic as she believed it to be. I'm drifting, he said, and with a furrowed brow over her dark golden eyes Tahlia finally caught on to what that meant. He's still alive.
There was, beneath her immediate joy, still a sense of heartache for knowing her son would not stay with her, but it was overpowered by her relief that his life was not over yet. "You're alive," she said in momentary shock as he reached forward to hold her again, "you're... But you must go back." There was urgency in her tone, fear in her voice and heart. If he stayed too long, if he did not go back in time... "If there is a chance for you to live, you must go," she pleaded quickly, her voice wobbling as her eyes, staring desperately into his, filled once more with tears. She missed him already, and yet she knew he should not be here. Not like this, not so close to the edge. He needed to go back, before he simply could not.
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