Born of Madness
Never forget the privilege you have been given, regardless of what you may come to learn aloft from this place.
Words as ice in her veins in accompaniment of the wounds in her mind that stood reminder of decades spent under watchful eye of depravity. Against the desperate cry for rest, her body in a state of shallow response to her own will, she pushed herself upright from her makeshift bed. Again she returned to his words, once more finding herself roused from sleep under an open sky in place of enclosed shelter. The condition went unnoticed, years spent roaming the various wilds of the galaxy having trained her to accept any nature of protection against elements, but the crudely buried shame bestowed upon her wormed it's way back into the roots of her psyche and prevented her from returning to the bliss of slumber.
Drifting her gaze about her, from the gentle sway of the grass to the soft hum of the wildlife, she fought against a haze to center herself until she stood fully dressed. Another world invariably void of circumstance she could deem useful to a search she had now ushered into decades. Though it was not without the understanding that she had chosen this lifestyle in the desire to grow more familiar with freedom; years spent in favor of exploration and decades serviced to the darkness she continued to resolve herself to fully understand. With each step and discovery the whispers began to grow louder, and in their own right begin to form more than mere notions as she'd come to understand them.
Her attention, once more, turned to the crystal that continuously made residence in her perception. The familiar warmth, echoed reflection of rage and hatred and substantial resonance met her interest like a gradually increasing pulse; more akin to a thrum than something far more grating. With a furrow of her brow and a flickered twitch of her fingers she gripped the stone as she'd done dozens of times before, in some inspired anticipation that it might provide her that same exhilarating feeling it had those many years ago. And for the briefest of moments she felt it dance along the fringe of her reach, echoing the richness she felt when the darkness enveloped her completely. The ground trembled, the air stilled and then, after a note longer than most, it ceased.
Even as the warmth and thrum remained she tucked away the crystal into the pocket of her coat and fixed her gaze upon the still darkened morning sky. Questions unanswered and notions untested swam in her head as she followed each of the stars she knew to familiar. The gravity and daunting pressure of those she'd yet to explore, study or know however went unrecognized against the wall of hate that clouded about her desire to explore them; to continue to defy the will and testament of he who had kept her from them for so long. For what were worlds and a galaxy that stood as nothing more than a spectacle to be viewed from afar but nothing more than a bauble that felt as though it could not be touched?
She grit her teeth at the notion, the ground about her trembled and for but a margin of seconds she felt powerful.
Scherezade deWinter
