THE DARK WATER, A THOUSAND EYED, gazing upon their somber forms, grey as winter’s morning, black as the solemn hour of midnight, she leans forth, arms bracing against the rails seperating daughter of the sea from its harsh, frigid depths. bare, cracked lips lour into a scowl, black foam lashes closing, asherah leaning her head onto her arms, sighing from the depths of her fractured soul. for the briefest of moments, she feigns ignorance, listening to the crashing waters beneath, his words sinking deeper and deeper into an endless pit within her mind, lies made to comfort a woman doomed, damned from the beginning. ❛ and what do they not see, stephen ? ❜ she whispers, voice drowning beneath the winds and waves howling and crashing, wrath blooming, a flower poisoning each thought and action, she raises herself, thrusting a finger unto his chest, voice raising, ❛ tell me, what do they not see ? they see a threat, a monster blossoming, ready to destroy everything around her. do you not see the same ? or do you have the audacity to lie to my face ? tell me ! ❜
in an eve of purple’s deepest hue, these secret shades of black a wax melting over the horizon, shifting into the gazing void of the depths’s domain, where it growls its unutterable secrets. fastened over a typical dark coat, the cloak billows with the wind like the waves below, its golden hem catching the moon’s gaze, as though it, too, were aware of all of their observers, these thousands of witnesses. angular features contoured by shadows of deep night, the sorcerer’s grey gaze watches on ; to waters, the cosmos, and beyond, caught in some conduit of thought, like he were entertaining countless realities by the second. hands that had rested against the railing, gloved and shaking, move to rest at his side as he turns to face her, and finds a finger thrust against him in accusation. ❝ i’ve sworn an oath. if, for a moment, i thought you posed a threat to this universe, we would not be having this discussion. ❞ habitual sobriety coats his words, yet the nuance of his voice was lush with concern, replete with consolation. as far as reprimands go, it was far gentler than he should allow. such a leniency spared could cost the cosmos its life, but he knows that he cannot, in good faith, let her face this alone, abandon her to the horrors that crawled here. ❝ asherah, ❞ stephen murmurs against her array of demands, with a shortage of any particular sentiment ━ whether he's moved by her outburst, he’s content not to reveal. he wills a step closer then, hands raising to ghost over her arms, not quite touching, but an act meant to placate nonetheless, ❝ would i lie to you? these doubts and fears that plague you ( . . . ) what monster can attest to having their own? ❞
