A Gathering Dark (Scrawled)
The air was still thin. It was a little warmer, here; almost enough heat to keep his breath from ghosting.
N'arada was still singing to herself, the hissing, broken whine of drones crawling behind the metal, in and around and through it as she stammered toward repair. Wouldn't be able to point the way for him.
But he knew the path, even through sharp angles and coils of wire. He knew the way here. He knew what he was looking for, where ink and edges had been hidden, locked tight. Barred with the foolish hope of keeping them safe--better, of never needing them again.
Afvu'aaith. Signs and the marking of them. Sealing remembered lives deep into the skin. Mourning that would never end.
Life did not go on. Only existence did.
New names. New signs for new dead--friends, crew, family.
There were so many more.
N'arada was still singing to herself, the hissing, broken whine of drones crawling behind the metal, in and around and through it as she stammered toward repair. Wouldn't be able to point the way for him.
But he knew the path, even through sharp angles and coils of wire. He knew the way here. He knew what he was looking for, where ink and edges had been hidden, locked tight. Barred with the foolish hope of keeping them safe--better, of never needing them again.
Afvu'aaith. Signs and the marking of them. Sealing remembered lives deep into the skin. Mourning that would never end.
Life did not go on. Only existence did.
New names. New signs for new dead--friends, crew, family.
There were so many more.