Bridges can be mended

Any real thoughts of the future shook the once great Empress to her core and spiraled her deeper into the depression that held her. Even with the endless night around them Deathbelle felt like the color had drained out of her world. Like she really was a shell of something greater. Now she was just broken. She couldn’t dwell on the fact that her grandchildren were becoming yearlings and she couldn’t even name one of them. The fact that it had been more than a year since she had looked into any of her elder children’s eyes. She couldn’t dwell on how much she failed all of them, or she wouldn’t have come up to breathe again. So Deathbelle tried not to think of them and what kind of position she would be in if her life had taken a different path.

So those thoughts were far from her mind when Plague summoned her from Habari’s border. He was the first to initiate contact when she had been so certain none of them had any desire for her any longer. Mismatched ears fell to her skull and the once warrior hearted queen answered her son’s summons.

Plague, her sweet first born son, or used to be. She couldn’t claim she knew any of them any longer. Her ivory splattered form appeared through the bare thin dark branches of the nook before the Ashen Daimyo. ”Plague,” She greeted softly, holding back the tears that always threatened to spill over her cheeks. ”It’s so good to see you.”She sniffled as she lowered herself to her haunches before him, afraid to get to close for fear of him disappearing.