spin, twirl, dance!

Sybil

'Why do you not think you're good enough?' She paused, thoughtful look in her eyes. This feeling sat deep, burrowing through soft tissue from the moment of conception, slow enough to go unnoticed, gentle enough to leave nothing but a dull ache somewhere in her body. She wouldn't answer immediately, icy eyes fixed on a point past Wren, just over the lake. She'd let the leader continue before saying her piece.

The way she talked, the way she gave her space, the way she accommodated her and not herself. This humbleness, this gentleness, Sybil knew it would breed a loyalty within this guild, within her, that strength alone could not offer. She could recognise the feeling within herself, but she did not wave it away like most. This could work, Wren was worthy. She knew at her core she was biased, nothing more than a lonely little girl, but she would not acknowledge the sea-salt smell she carried. The one her father had.

'I believe in your potential,' That was nice, but it was something the spirit couldn't settle on. She was young, she was unwise. She wanted the world in the palm of her hand (paw?). She spoke now, voice low, implying that this was to be between them and no one else. It would not hurt her, if this got out. It was simply something she was still figuring out herself, an idea half formed. A monument in construction. "My family, they were the advisors of kings once. They lived in palaces, we were held as high as royalty." Wistful, she stared at a distant horizon, as if seeking the silhouette of the castle, of the grandest reminder of what they had lost. "That changed, obviously." Despite her high opinion of herself, she thought it evident that she didn't hold herself as a princess would.

"When we were cast out, our gifts began to leave us too. We became just as blind to the world as any other. We adapted as we had in the beginning, we originally came from nothing you see. We accumulated knowledge as mortals do. It wasn't enough. It impossible to revive something that is already rotting."

"As a child, I dreamed of our renewal. I prayed for it even, to all the gods I knew of. None of them answered, none of them could. As much I may hope, rebuilding the legacy of the ones who came before may be beyond me, beyond anyone. No, what I can do, what I seek to do, is to construct my own. I want to create something that will outlive me, as my descendants did. I want something to last forever, in my own mind at least." She turned to Wren now. "You believe in my potential, will you believe in my vision, truly?" A trust fall. The child was flailing outwards, seeking this stranger to catch her. Her parents would've, she thought.

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spin, twirl, dance!

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Sybil