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trans_92011-06-12 07:26 pm
dearest-nehaa.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92011-06-12 07:26 pm
I need you to get back up. [open]
She really wished Stacy would have given her more of a warning, before filling her head full of memories she wasn't sure she was prepared for. She had to excuse herself from a council meeting, apologizing profusely in half-panicked signing.
Kinase was dead. She remembered that now. He wouldn't be waiting in the pods for her when this was all over, he wouldn't kiss her cheek or remind her that she was overreacting (even when she was sure she wasn't). She wouldn't hear his laugh, or roll her eyes when he wore some gaudy, bright-pink shirt, claiming to be the height of Draenic fashion. He had been an idiot who had, somehow, agreed to marry her - first as a joke, then seriously, as someone who loved her. It figured that a man who'd survived the Cataclysm of Azeroth, and the Exodus from Draenor would somehow be unable to survive the Ohm's rampant destruction of everything.
But now he was gone, and she remained. If she'd been able to, Nehaalista would've screamed her frustrations. Her hooves found her pointed to the sensoriums, and she conjured up the home on Azuremyst they'd built and then subsequently hid in when Vaals was born.
Vaals, her little, little Vaals. Vaals was safe. He had to be. He was little and sweet, and she refused to believe that his big eyes, soft hair, and even, gentle voice was taken from her, too. Nehaalista's hooves tore up the half-finished pathway to the house and she threw the door open. Her little boy played on a blanket before several lighting crystals, safe and sound thanks to the illusion of the sensoriums, and somewhere floating in a pile of mucus down in the pod caverns if she were lucky.
Nehaalista picked the little boy up, who protested slightly, and sank into Kinase's chair. She buried her face into Vaals' light-colored hair and breathed shallowly. Why couldn't anything have simple and clean resolutions?
Kinase was dead. She remembered that now. He wouldn't be waiting in the pods for her when this was all over, he wouldn't kiss her cheek or remind her that she was overreacting (even when she was sure she wasn't). She wouldn't hear his laugh, or roll her eyes when he wore some gaudy, bright-pink shirt, claiming to be the height of Draenic fashion. He had been an idiot who had, somehow, agreed to marry her - first as a joke, then seriously, as someone who loved her. It figured that a man who'd survived the Cataclysm of Azeroth, and the Exodus from Draenor would somehow be unable to survive the Ohm's rampant destruction of everything.
But now he was gone, and she remained. If she'd been able to, Nehaalista would've screamed her frustrations. Her hooves found her pointed to the sensoriums, and she conjured up the home on Azuremyst they'd built and then subsequently hid in when Vaals was born.
Vaals, her little, little Vaals. Vaals was safe. He had to be. He was little and sweet, and she refused to believe that his big eyes, soft hair, and even, gentle voice was taken from her, too. Nehaalista's hooves tore up the half-finished pathway to the house and she threw the door open. Her little boy played on a blanket before several lighting crystals, safe and sound thanks to the illusion of the sensoriums, and somewhere floating in a pile of mucus down in the pod caverns if she were lucky.
Nehaalista picked the little boy up, who protested slightly, and sank into Kinase's chair. She buried her face into Vaals' light-colored hair and breathed shallowly. Why couldn't anything have simple and clean resolutions?
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She looked down at the small child. It hard hurt her enough, not having her siblings with her. And she at least knew they were safe. She'd seen Sandry, even if only for a small time.
How much more painful would it be, if she didn't know?
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[I keep telling myself that I will eventually have Vaals, or if I never see him come out of those pods, I must keep fighting for him and his chance to live.] So many younglings died during the Exodus, and again when the ship crashed. Nehaalista didn't want to think of anymore dead children, especially her own.
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At the mention of falls, she fell silent for a moment. "It's hard, to continue on when you can't see your family," she said finally. "But Stacy does save families. She saved those of others in the ship, so perhaps she has saved your son as well."
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She smiled briefly in memory and motioned to a small, sepia-toned picture on the mantle of the couple. Kinase was a heavy-set, broad thing of a draenei, lighter in tone than the dark Nehaalista. They were dressed very formally, and his arm was around her as her hand rested over his chest. He had the look of someone who was rather easygoing and an eternally patient look in his eyes. [But he fought, nevertheless. And they killed him.]
[I will keep hope that he was saved. No mother should have to fret about this, but here I am.] Uncertainty was a slippery path. [I pray the Light is watching over him.]
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And how many countless others had died, at the Ohm's hands? She knew her brother and sisters were alive, but she knew nothing of the others from her world. Her teachers, her friends. Who knew if they were even alive or dead? "I will pray that Bookkeeper will watch over them, and that their records are balanced, whether they be in this life of the next."
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That was sort of horrifying, now that she thought about it.
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When she returned, her arms were empty and crossed beneath her breasts. She looked at the picture of Kinase again and a look of guilt passed over her face. Quietly, she signed to Daja, [Perhaps it is best if I dispel this illusion for a while.]
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