[If that is true -- if he has been watching, would he not have seen how she approached the other Haurchefant? Would it not have made him, too, turn in disgust? She deserves all that she has wrought, and now she's caught in a paradoxical spiral of her own making; her hatred for herself makes her act accordingly with her hate, and the hatred from others it evokes in turn only makes hers deeper still. It would make sense, then, to begin from the very first link of the chain, so that the rest can be rebuilt... but how?
It seems unfathomable, almost uncomfortable to think there might ever be a way in which Irhya does not hate herself. Any attempts at mustering appreciation for herself seem to dissolve away in the swampy mess of doubt that is her own mind before they ever have a chance to take hold.]
Aye... stars burn bright of their own power, and ultimately meet their demise because of it. We are much the same, in theory. It is always the wise who are the most foolish, and the strong who are the most wounded.
[And that is just the way of things. But there were plenty who could have heeded the call and instead chose not to; plenty of adventurers, those blessed and those less so, and plenty of ordinary people who instead cast off on a different path. The ones who survived, the ones who continued to bend over backwards and bleed themselves dry and give the shirts off their damn backs for some foolish, ungrateful shiteheels who wouldn't otherwise give them the time of day... No one would have blamed them for quietly slipping away and pretending not to hear the needy cries of the masses for salvation, for they themselves are not gods to be prayed to, and certainly not primals bearing false promises of protection.
But they stayed anyway. They picked themselves up, licked their wounds, and pressed on with sore feet and aching hearts because they wanted to, even if it meant toeing the boundary of humanity and godhood on a very dangerous level. The very way Fordola had nearly been knocked breathless by a mere glimpse of her memories only served to make her wonder if something was wrong with her, at the time. Yet, she also wants to retake the mantle she had set down of her own volition, the desire burnt and buried by layers of ash, but still warm and aglow somewhere beneath.]
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It seems unfathomable, almost uncomfortable to think there might ever be a way in which Irhya does not hate herself. Any attempts at mustering appreciation for herself seem to dissolve away in the swampy mess of doubt that is her own mind before they ever have a chance to take hold.]
Aye... stars burn bright of their own power, and ultimately meet their demise because of it. We are much the same, in theory. It is always the wise who are the most foolish, and the strong who are the most wounded.
[And that is just the way of things. But there were plenty who could have heeded the call and instead chose not to; plenty of adventurers, those blessed and those less so, and plenty of ordinary people who instead cast off on a different path. The ones who survived, the ones who continued to bend over backwards and bleed themselves dry and give the shirts off their damn backs for some foolish, ungrateful shiteheels who wouldn't otherwise give them the time of day... No one would have blamed them for quietly slipping away and pretending not to hear the needy cries of the masses for salvation, for they themselves are not gods to be prayed to, and certainly not primals bearing false promises of protection.
But they stayed anyway. They picked themselves up, licked their wounds, and pressed on with sore feet and aching hearts because they wanted to, even if it meant toeing the boundary of humanity and godhood on a very dangerous level. The very way Fordola had nearly been knocked breathless by a mere glimpse of her memories only served to make her wonder if something was wrong with her, at the time. Yet, she also wants to retake the mantle she had set down of her own volition, the desire burnt and buried by layers of ash, but still warm and aglow somewhere beneath.]
Would he even wait for someone like me at all...?