The forget-me-nots bloomed in a perfectly preserved collection, despite the lateness in June. The wildflower was easily maintained and augmented by the fresh hyacinth the sorceress brought daily. It had been no more than a few weeks since the funeral, and still Yennefer could not bring herself to leave this godforsaken place.
Aretuza remained in ruins on the cliffs of Thanedd. In its current state, it became a stark reminder of what it had always been: a tomb. As macabre as it was, Yennefer knew Tissaia poured everything of herself into the school and would not want to be buried anywhere else. Her grave stood as far out on the cliff as the remaining sorceresses dared to place her with an ornate marble stone marking her final resting place.
Triss had stopped dragging her inside after the first week of failed attempts. Yennefer spent as much time as she could sitting in the summer grass next to the stone marker. Even the coastal rains couldn’t keep her away.
Today was no different.
Yennefer languished against the mound, aimlessly twirling and pulling at the grass as she stared out to sea. Daylight melted into night and she remained. Where else was she to go? Geralt convalesced in Brokilon, Ciri was missing, and Tissaia was…gone.
She angrily swiped at the stray tears that dared to slip over her cheeks. She could feel the bubbling of chaos under her skin, rearing like a viper ready to strike in response to her anguish. There was none of Tissaia’s touted balance and control to be found. Control was an illusion. An artifice buried with her.
A choked sob clawed at her throat and the venomous snake of her restraint hissed warningly.
What was the point of getting her magic back if it was useless to do anything to help her? To do anything to take this pain away? Maybe, in another life, things would have been different.
Yennefer grit her teeth and the coiled tension snapped. With a shuddering scream, every ounce of grief, each anguished regret, and all of her rage exploded out of her in a catastrophic blast. Wave after wave of chaos poured from her until she felt as hollow as her heart. Her energy fizzled and crackled in the air as her eyesight began to fade. And as she fell, she brokenly observed the crack down the middle of the marble headstone.
Yennefer swatted fussing hands away from her neck and cheeks as she would irksome flies. The ground beneath her was hard and brought back a muscle memory she had hoped to never remember.
“What happened?” She groaned against the graveled sluggishness of her tongue.
The hands she had pushed away returned to her shoulder and neck, offering support as she began to push herself up.
Yennefer peeled her eyes open squinted against the glaring sun determined to blind her.
“You collapsed, likely from the heat.”
The figure assisting her leaned over her in concern, blessedly eclipsing the harshness of the sun. Yennefer blinked away the spots in her vision and her eyes settled on those opposite of her.
Familiar, crystalline eyes searched her own and Yennefer’s heart stuttered.
Once long ago, well not quite...Once when I was young though many say I have lived much to short of a "long life", I knew a girl. She was one you would read about in novels, or even catch a glimpse of in a painting hung in the Louvre. Though never see in reality, but she was her own reality, displaced and mismatched from our own. She wasn't perfect yet she could shine brighter than any star. She was careless wind flitting through the tree leaves and whisking away stray petals from their buds into the warm summer breeze. Never once did she falter even when she herself thought she broke under the many pressures this world holds.
You see you would meet this girl and an unearthly joy would erupt from within your soul, she could charm even the devil with that laugh and smile. Every inch and particle of her body was hypnotic but in the most innocent of ways. Thousands fawned and adored her though no one dared to touch, she was so utterly alone but yet constantly with people. She was the ultimatum, but could break you down to a pile of dust if you did her wrong.
A little piece I hope to publish some day
*DON’T STEAL!!!!! Reblog and like but keep my caption!*
Brought alone to a land unknown even for a demon, the research had to start all over again just like that time when she arrived at the human world, the sole exception is that she never recalled the moment nor the reason of her presence at all. This was one of those rare occasions when the word 'confusion' can appeal.
Nevertheless, she won't dwell upon her only purpose.
" This is the area where the young master is located. " The wet nurse's priority was no other but protect him, failure was neglected. Confident about then she will find Beelzebub in no time, as well the one chosen to be the parent of the future demon lord.
Hildegarde intercepted some low being from the environs in the meantime. She wasn't going to be at their presence without having some basic knowledge first.
