Oct. 12th, 2005

arsenicwaltz: (Default)
In the very heart of the Palace there is a grand chamber of multicolored marble, long lines of tall pilliars marching towards a dais on which sits a grand and highly ornamented throne. The throne's claret velvet is worn and threadbare, and the spires of gilt carving are bedecked with dust and cobwebs. A great sense of vacancy fills the room and more particularly the throne, relieved only by the presence of a very large, somewhat careworn looking spider who has taken up residence as caretaker of the seat. In front of the throne sits a flimsy looking folding stool, an abused and flattened pillow perched atop it for the comfort of the sitter, though it is quite evident that nobody has sat here in some time.

The girl stands behind one of the matched pair of black marble pillars, shivering with her body pressed up against the cold stone as if to hide herself. Her cheeks are wet, her eyes closed, her hands clenched and drawn to her chest, and she gives the impression of trying to press herself inside the pillar as if to escape something. Her lips move silently against the carved and polished stone, and the entire chamber is suffused with an air of sympathy. Finally, her lips stop moving and she slides down the pillar to curl fetal position against it, a fragile-looking thing in a nest of skirts. Finally, she speaks aloud.

"It pains me, this slow drawing apart. It's as if that moment, those few precious hours were some dream world, and now that I've returned, they are as insubstantial as butterfly ashes. I want to be that close to them again. I wish for that feeling of connection. It was glorious while it lasted, but I had hoped... I wish it had lasted longer."

As she falls silent, the long hall is filled with the sound of rushing wind, though not a breath of air stirs. The spider takes cover in one of its many maze-like webs, leaving a trembling thread of spidersilk glimmering over the seat of the throne. In that space condenses a Presence; a bright glow without shape or substance, but which dominates the entirety of the long hall, casting the pillars' shadows in sharp relief against the cold walls. The girl looks up in consternation, but not in fear.

HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING, YOUNG ONE? The voice booms and crackles through the room like a thunderstorm condensed. DID THE GREEN-EYED TEACH YOU NOTHING? The girl shrinks back, ashamed. YOU ARE TO LIVE, TO LOVE, IN THE MOMENT AND BE THANKFUL FOR THAT MOMENT. YOU ARE NOT TO PINE FOR WHAT YOU DESIRE. YOU ARE NOT TO MOURN WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN!

The girl nods shakily, her face pale. "I will try! I have tried! It is not as if I didn't understand what he was trying to teach me, it's that I couldn't make myself give up! I could not quash those feelings so easily!" She hides her eyes, though the brightness has taken on a warmer color.

SIMPLY DO. DO NOT THINK. FEEL IN THE MOMENT, AND FOR THE MOMENT, BUT NOT FOR THE FUTURE. PUT NO STORE IN THE FUTURE, FOR IT IS A TREACHEROUS PLACE. YOU WILL DO WELL IN THIS. I KNOW.

With that, the Presence vanishes, lifting a heavy pressure from the room. The girl collapses into unconsciousness against her pillar, and sleeps.

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