A gentle hand stroked the scales of the Lifebinder's snout. Gentle like spring as she hummed an old lullaby forgotten to time. The Dreamer's eyes reminded closed as she soothed her sister's pain. Allowing an escaped from her capturers for just a little while in dream. Yet the Emerald One did not raise a finger to end her sister's imprisonment, content to allow nature to take its course. It would be years later that Ysera would regret her inaction. In part The Black One was to blame - fear.
RANDOM IC ASKS // always accepting.
Sometimes (too few and far in between, too brief) she’s allowed the escape sleep provides. Sleep itself does not come easy, even when they do let her rest; when it comes, it is often uneasy and filled with nightmares that did not scare her any more than the reality she would always wake up to. Other times, it will be sleep borne of exhaustion, and her mind and body and spirit will all be too tired to wander anywhere. Then her sleep is deep, if short, and there is nothing but this blackness so akin to what she imagines death would be like (not unwelcome, still; truth be told, Alexstrasza has longed to not wake up again for many months, knowing that only death would bring her freedom).
Few are the times she is blessed with dreams; even fewer when they are so sweet. Enveloped in sounds as ancient as they were welcome, there is a semblance of comfort, as if the soft humming of a lullaby would be enough to give her protection and make her untouchable again (it won’t, some part of her warns, and when you wake everything will be as it was, and you will be chained still, and there will be nothing to protect you and yours from this seemingly endless torture; but she quietens such thoughts, forces them into silence, for if she’s not allowed some happiness in dreams, then she is already dead in every way but one).
Ysera. Thinking of her sister is enough to choke and tear up her dream self as it would her real one. That her sister was the Mother of Dreams had less to do with recognition that fills her with sorrow and gratitude in equal measures; no, she knows it is Ysera because none other would have the power to soothe her so, to ease her pains and rest her mind in similar way.
There was no resent, no anger or hatred or blame; Alexstrasza did not blame her, did not blame any of them. Best the others stay away, do not try to rescue her at all, lest they too are imprisoned and share of her fate (how could she ask them to risk themselves so?). The Lifebinder suffers the cruelty the younger races are capable of in pursuit of power, and she wouldn’t wish it upon none.
This would be her grave, likely, as it had been to so many of her children, as it would be to most of her flight. If death came soon, she would not mind. It was all she could hope for, to have her sister to give her solace; even if only in sweet dreams.
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