Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Bitter Tears

She refused to meet their eyes.

Gone was her fiery and passionate personality, and the very air around her was heavy with defeat, deprived of the meager substance that had kept her head high and guarded her resolve for so long.

There was no anger left, no desire to continue fighting, struggling against the unrelenting face of adversity.

Her Family had departed, and the Brother she had worked tirelessly to awaken had woken only to be spirited away the moment he had. Not that it mattered. She had been awake for the long years Ken had slept and had grown, and the moment they met she knew it was her Brother, but not the same Ken who was once the same mind like mirror reflections.

Ken was still but of a tender 12, he hadn't been awake to grow as she herself had those long years. No longer could they understand one another so separated as they were. After that she had grasped for straws. Anything to stay by Ken's side and protect him, her only semblance of Family left. Ken needed her, or so she told herself. Insisted even.

In truth, it was she who needed him, more than her twin needing her.

The sacrifices she had made during the period her Brother slept were, and she loathed herself only more for the thought, had not been worthwhile. She chastised herself bitterly for thinking so. Her brother was alive, and awake. That should be more than enough. Was all she had wanted then.

But the loneliness persisted, and the scars would forever mark her, carved deeper than she cared to acknowledge.

Her humiliation, indignation, anger, and resentment were washed out. She had buried the past with a cold metal knife. 

There was nothing left.

There was no vengeance to take, no strings left for her to tend to.

At least there should've been, but now the past had been brought back anew. Not only did they know, but in the recesses of her memory, did they witness that vile disgrace.

Humiliation and shame.

It was as if the past would forever haunt her. No matter how fast or far she ran, it would catch up to her.

When she did meet their gaze, she felt only shame. In her thoughts she saw only the shock, the horror, the disgust. They knew, and not only knew, but witnessed it firsthand.

The very thought brought bile to her mouth and she brought a limp hand to cover her mouth. The nausea was overwhelmingly powerful.

There was no purpose left in her. Her brother had, in his fewer waking years, outgrown her. Lokius would provide for the boy anyhow.

She wasn't needed. The culmination of her efforts had long ago seceded her.

She was no longer needed anywhere, had nothing left to do and nowhere to go. And to add icing to the cake, they knew. They saw.

Hot were the tears as they burned a bitter path down her cheeks.

Neiro had held her as she cried into him, his soft melodic voice a tender and worried whisper, speaking words of comfort and the unconditional love he was so known for in their circle.

His supportive presence was the only light nowadays in the dark Times when she saw but nothing of hope.

Futility, utter futility.

She left the hospital, worse off than she was entering it in. Though hale of body, she was of little else.

Neiro kept a close eye on her, and though she appreciated the efforts, they too were in vain. She had no intention to end herself. No desire to.

He brought her into their shared home, something his cantankerous flatmate had permitted, circumstances being what they were.

She laughed softly to herself. There was no need for such concern. Suck kindness--what a waste.

Thinking back, she almost wished they still lived, that she could draw her blade again to cut them down.

But alas, their wounds were cold, and her's fresh as the day she was rend apart.

She would find her way one day.

She always did.

Path lit by her own fiery blaze, she would set forth once more.

But today she was weary, and in the comforting embrace of a friend. Today she would cry her bitter tears that she had none left when she once more stood on her own.