|.
Zhol wasn't sure what surprised him more: Drusilla's sadness, or the fact that the words of consolation that she quoted had come from Azira. At first he wondered if he had perhaps misheard; or perhaps there was another Azira in Wind Reach, better inclined to such sympathy, softness, and sincerity. But then, hadn't he always suspected there was more to her than violence and anger? Hadn't he even accused her outright of that? Here was proof; and it was irrefutable. Azira's kindness towards Khara earned her tolerance and leniency in Zhol's mind, but there was always the suspicion that it was born out of selfish interest, the huntress's need for a reliable scout; but to offer sympathy to Drusilla, over something so sensitive? Zhol's understanding of her shifted utterly.
But he could worry about Azira later. Right now, Drusilla needed and deserved all of his focus. He stepped a little closer, placing a hand gently on Drusilla's arm without hesitation or trepidation. "I didn't know you when we first met," he countered. "I didn't think you were a monster then, either, because Azira is right - you aren't one."
He felt a little edge of anger and irritation creep into his voice, aimed at the people who were responsible for filling Drusilla's head with such broken notions. "So what if you aren't human? Trust me, I'm one of them, and it's really not all that great. What you can do, your climbing, all the other things that set you apart? You shouldn't hide them. They don't make you different, they make you special. Your eyes are incredible; so striking; you can't help looking at them. They're honest too, kind and sympathetic, just like you are. Your hair is wondrous, and absolutely screaming to be braided. So what if your arms are different? They let you climb walls. No one else around here can do that; people should look at you with envy."
He paused, and frowned. "One of the few good things about Endrykas is that there's no such thing as a Drykas. As in, it's not a race, or a species, or anything like that. If you have windmarks, you are accepted; you become a Drykas regardless of what you were before. The reason I wasn't afraid of you when we first met is because I never learned to be. I never learned to be judgemental, to shun the outcasts, or anything else that the Inarta do. That just proves that the problem is with them; there's nothing wrong with you."
Carefully he slid back his sleeve, and held his arm out so that Drusilla could see. He delved into himself, reaching for the inner candle that he used to visualise his soul, willing the molten wax to flow into his arm, and seep from his pores. As always his eyes were closed, screwed shut in concentration. "I never really get to see these," he explained, as the dark res began to flow and swirl between his skin, the patterns shifting like branches growing and unfurling, lightning fast; like waves sweeping across the sea of grass. "It's hard to concentrate if I open my eyes, so I only ever get a glimpse, but -"
Slowly the res flowed towards his palm, and as his brow furrowed slightly deeper in focus, a flickering flame burst into life for a split second, before a flick of Zhol's wrist extinguished it before it could do any harm to his skin.
"- where I came from, it was doing that which made me the monster. You know that I'm not; and not just because you know me. You don't judge. You don't hate. You are better than that; better than each and every one of the Inarta that look at you with fear or scorn. The fault lies with them, though. They are the ones who are broken."
He managed to muster a small smile; one he hoped would offer a glimmer of comfort. "Don't hide yourself away for their benefit. You are beautiful. Be yourself, and be proud to be."
But he could worry about Azira later. Right now, Drusilla needed and deserved all of his focus. He stepped a little closer, placing a hand gently on Drusilla's arm without hesitation or trepidation. "I didn't know you when we first met," he countered. "I didn't think you were a monster then, either, because Azira is right - you aren't one."
He felt a little edge of anger and irritation creep into his voice, aimed at the people who were responsible for filling Drusilla's head with such broken notions. "So what if you aren't human? Trust me, I'm one of them, and it's really not all that great. What you can do, your climbing, all the other things that set you apart? You shouldn't hide them. They don't make you different, they make you special. Your eyes are incredible; so striking; you can't help looking at them. They're honest too, kind and sympathetic, just like you are. Your hair is wondrous, and absolutely screaming to be braided. So what if your arms are different? They let you climb walls. No one else around here can do that; people should look at you with envy."
He paused, and frowned. "One of the few good things about Endrykas is that there's no such thing as a Drykas. As in, it's not a race, or a species, or anything like that. If you have windmarks, you are accepted; you become a Drykas regardless of what you were before. The reason I wasn't afraid of you when we first met is because I never learned to be. I never learned to be judgemental, to shun the outcasts, or anything else that the Inarta do. That just proves that the problem is with them; there's nothing wrong with you."
Carefully he slid back his sleeve, and held his arm out so that Drusilla could see. He delved into himself, reaching for the inner candle that he used to visualise his soul, willing the molten wax to flow into his arm, and seep from his pores. As always his eyes were closed, screwed shut in concentration. "I never really get to see these," he explained, as the dark res began to flow and swirl between his skin, the patterns shifting like branches growing and unfurling, lightning fast; like waves sweeping across the sea of grass. "It's hard to concentrate if I open my eyes, so I only ever get a glimpse, but -"
Slowly the res flowed towards his palm, and as his brow furrowed slightly deeper in focus, a flickering flame burst into life for a split second, before a flick of Zhol's wrist extinguished it before it could do any harm to his skin.
"- where I came from, it was doing that which made me the monster. You know that I'm not; and not just because you know me. You don't judge. You don't hate. You are better than that; better than each and every one of the Inarta that look at you with fear or scorn. The fault lies with them, though. They are the ones who are broken."
He managed to muster a small smile; one he hoped would offer a glimmer of comfort. "Don't hide yourself away for their benefit. You are beautiful. Be yourself, and be proud to be."
"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
Dad Thoughts | Dinah Thoughts | Khara Thoughts
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This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.
Dad Thoughts | Dinah Thoughts | Khara Thoughts
...
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.
