Why did she have to be treated like an outcast by them when she was the one who brought them into the world? Why must they be so beastly? Why did Orson have to get in the way of her being able to reach out to Nathair – the only one who welcomed her?
Her eyes bowed with sadness when she could tell that Orson was refusing to settle, no matter how much Nathair tried. Andwhen he turned his long body towards Orson with a soothing head pat – not afraid of his snapping fangs – and retreated for both their sakes, Lindi knew there was no point in staying.
She’d return later, when either Orson ventured off on his own like he occasionally did, or when he had gained more humanity.
Nathair kept his skull on her, watching as she backed into the shade of the closest tree, and she held his stare. Then she pulled her hood of feathers over her head and willed the shift to take her.
His orbs morphed from orange to dark yellow at her raven form, and even Orson halted his growl with a confused head tilt.
Lindi unfurled her wings and swiped them down, taking off into the sky and away from them. She was thankful that, like her Phantom form, she was unable to produce tears when in this form.
I wish this didn’t have to hurt so much.
That she didn’t have to constantly hurt inside.
Sometimes I wish I could just keep them all as babies.Then maybe Lindi would forever know love and be needed in a tender way.
January 4th, 1738
Cupping her hands, Lindi dived them into the cascade of a frothing waterfall. Finding the water more bearable than she first anticipated, deliciously cooling with the oppressive summer heat, she braved ducking her entire naked body into its fall. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back and let it wash her face and down her skin in harsh rivulets. The pressure was intense, but she found it all the more cleansing.
Even though this waterfall actually started above the surface and fell into the Veil, linking to a swamp just a little ways west, she wasn’t afraid. She had no reason to be.
Lindi was so quick with her Phantom abilities that she hadn’t been killed by a Demon in decades. Her borrowed magic was also a tool she wielded with practised skill, and she knew what to listen out for. Most Demons were loud, snorting and snarling long before they were even in view.
Even over the roar of the water, she’d hear them, be dressed and then gone before they could reach the top of these steep rocks.
I’m glad I found this place,she thought, taking in the lukewarmth as she rubbed down her arms.
The spray coming off the cascade pushed away Weldir’s thickening black mist, allowing her to feel as though she wasn’t directly under his gaze. For now, she didn’t think he was watching her through one of his viewing discs, since he’d been quiet for quite some time.
It was a private moment she was allowing herself on the border of the Veil, and within it.
Weldir’s mist, although thin and mostly transparent except to her keen and knowing eye, was growing. It didn’t encompass the entire Veil, but at least a quarter of it from the edges inwards.
His silence often made her want to call out to him to check if he was asleep or not, but she never did. She worried that if she did so, she’d somehow stir him awake and then she’d be forced to have a polite conversation she wanted no part of.
She’d barely spoken to him since before the separable twins were conceived. She probably shouldn’t have taken what he said and how he treated her to heart, but her grudge wouldn’t waver, no matter how she tried.
His rejection had been so instant that her ego had taken a massive hit, and she felt like she was undeserving of any attention. That she wasn’t pretty, or worth anything more than what they were now.
A servant and her master. A god and the human he took advantage of. A husband that saw her as nothing but a person who did not deserve even the lightest, brief caress.
That kind of insecurity could really bruise a person.
Lindi never thought she was capable of feeling that way. She wasn’t utterly beguiling, but she thought she was beautiful enough. Her parents made her feel that way, as did the boys in her village when they tried to court her.
The word ugly or unbecoming had never been uttered in her direction, but his actions allowed those pestering doubts to fester. They ate at her and left a wound within her chest that she’d been struggling to fill.
It was getting easier every day, resigning herself to this fate, but it still kind of... well, it kind of fucking sucked. Although his tendril had been inside her numerous times, she was still practically a virgin after seventy-six years.
What a depressing thought, and one she’d been trying to ignore for the better part of six years. She gave birth to their children, suffered horrible post-partum depression, and then asked for a small reprieve from this duty to collect her thoughts.
In this separation of time, the lack of child rearing made it easier to ignore this pain. It made it easier to forget.
She didn’t want to speak to him, and she hadn’t called out to him once. She didn’t want his support, just his magic. He’d painted a clear line in the sand, and she would adhere to it. There was no point in kindling a friendship when it offered nothing and often left her dismayed.
She was better without him.