The Cure For Pain

*Raisa* · 06-20-2014, 06:59 PM

She had come to this land an exile, and made herself a home. When Raisa thought on the long moons she had spent wandering these hills and moors, it broke her. How could she be doing this? Each pawstep felt heavier than the last, each heightening the tension that begged her 'Please, go back to your den, go to sleep.' But her restless paws would not cease, would not halt in their relentless march towards oblivion. She was stretched too thin. To admit it would have been too wounding, both to her heart and her pride, but she yearned for the life she had led before Ebony. Before all of it. Gone were the days when the woman could be content in her hatred and her greed. The Raisa that had existed before Alacritis was almost entirely foreign to the fae now, yet she knew that this despairing need to flee was coming from that shadowy crevasse of her mind. It spoke to her. You selfish bitch, she thought back. How could you do this again, gods damn your weakness, your children don't even deserve you. The words were her own but wounded her deeply even so, burning tears now seeping into the corners of her eyes. She could no more ignore than control the torrent of words, slanders, curses. It clawed at her, spurred her onwards.
Her limbs shook with some mixture of agony, fear, despair, and rage. If a thundercloud, roiling with pensive energy, could be brought to earth it would certainly appear something like the woman did then. Though her rage would not strike down at the surface, but instead it was cast inward. You are a pathetic excuse for a leader. How did you possibly think you could do this? What led you to believe you were even half so capable as the Xanilov warriors who have come before you. You've won no honor, led no battles, conquered no kingdoms. You got your land and sat on it, watching blindly as it rotted around you. You're detestable... The tears began to flow freely, but it did not relieve the sooty fae as it sometimes did. It only made her rage all the more terrible. Weak, weak, WEAK! She dug her claws into the dead and dying moss, wishing only that she could lash out at her own form as she might lash out at another. A familiar scent brushed against her nostrils, and Raisa thought she might forgo life entirely, her shame burned so strongly.
?Katja...? The word was whispered, a mournful prayer for all that she had hoped she might become.
What was this woman made of, that she was so strong, so dedicated? Nothing seemed to ruffle the darker fae, she faced life with the iron-clad will of confidence and ability. A sob choked Raisa's throat, and she ground her teeth against it.
?Katja!? She called out more loudly, summoning the woman to her side. She knew what she would have to do. When the dark knight was at her side, Raisa let her words pour forth. She made no comment on the tears which streamed from her eyes. She apologized profusely for her weakness, begged Katja's forgiveness with her gaze, and prayed to all the gods known and unknown that her dear companion would not see the broken woman cowering behind it. ?Katja, I need you to... To watch over everything, okay? I'm so sorry. Tell my babies I'm sorry, oh my precious children. They are so strong. They deserve so much better. Tell them I'm sorry.? Her voice has grown louder and louder, more panicked. She was blinded by her tears, the red rage of her loathing. As her voice cracked, she choked, coughing down a sob. Hoarsely, lastly, she whispered. ?I'm so, so sorry.?
And with that, Raisa Xanilov fled into the night. Winter winds howled the herald of her absence, bitterly cold and forlorn.

"Talk" "You" Think

So blood is fire pulsing through our veins

We're either writers or fools behind the reigns

I've spent ten years trying to sing it all way

But the water keeps on falling from my tries

And heaven knows, heaven knows

I tried to find a cure for the pain

Oh my Lord! To suffer like you do

It would be a lie to run away

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