hands on your knees

But… the things Raka was saying were… impossible. It had always been ingrained into her skull that she was the imperfect, flawed one. That she had to do her very best and beyond to be worthy of the life she had been given. To make the value of her life equate the price she had incurred upon her parents. She didn’t know what to believe. A tear fell from her cheek, and dropped into the bowl of water below.

Karaka was speaking again, and it turned Cierzo’s face into a distorted mess of sorrow and relief. “No… you don’t understand.” She said, the words falling from her tongue lightly. “He’s already dead.” Her sweet face, as muddied as it was with clean lines stemming from fallen tears, slowly brightened with a smile. Yes, because in the end that man was dead. And she was alive. He had suffered, just as he had forced agony upon her. “Raka… I should go now. My hero is waiting.” Her voice a gentle monotone, with eyes far away from here.

speech