2024-06-27 - 4.5- To Set Your Scene

Diath's voice is cold, like an ice pack on a hot day, like a stream gurgling passed your fingers, and- though every attempt is made to keep it soothing, calming- at times like the harsh breath of winter. A settling thing that sinks into flesh, that soothes away pain same as it can pierce to the bone.

Diath's voice is deep, in the true bottomless sense of the word. To look down, to the sides, up, is to see no end to the familiar darkness, darkness like you've known before in the depths of your bones. Broken only by the dancing and flickering of distant lights, lights that approach in emotion and word, that lap in a strong, breaking mass against the edges of your being. That slips away in the ebb and flow of conversation, of contact, leaving behind faint spots of light and that eternal chill.

Diath's voice is an ancient home, from before the light of sun or warmth of fire. When there was but cradling darkness, soothing cold, and the lights that flickered around you. Maybe not what is thought of as home anymore, now something distant and lingering, but a home nonetheless.

Diath's voice is right, and maybe, just maybe, calls you back to the depths.