2024-07-10 - The Long Night - 5.2

The landslide soothes with time, but the voices do not. It was enough that Myrcelleth had to develop new discoveries, new skills to shut it out. They like to think that, even with their limited energy, they had gotten quite good at it. Instead of a cascade of rushing water, it was a river - still loud, still too much to think through, but better. Enough that he could just about force his head above it and catch a single, solitary breath, burning his lungs and scorching him from within. The breath was unpleasant, giving them just enough time to realise the kind of dark that they were trapped within.

A new kind of dark, a miserable kind that almost made him want to sink back in and never rise again. Something was keeping them up, though. Mother’s shine was similarly dulled within the Night. It was difficult not to notice minute changes in her before and now was no different when the changes were anything but minute.

She still thinks silly things, but now they feel worse with the knowledge that it was something forced onto her. Why does Issrodeth need to be replaced, why does Mother have to do it when she so clearly has other things to worry about, us to worry about? It didn’t feel fair, not at all.

So one uses their breath to comfort her, to reassure her. He would happily take this burden from her if he can.