It's a thing.
Oct. 2nd, 2016 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
merikuru posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
volieredeatoriBlaming a friend for this, oh yes I am.
FFXIV RP stuff.
N'selia, my dear. You would have seen your seventh summer today, and I can do naught but weep.
Some would call me weak and undignified for this day of distraught memory; some would call me stagnant, unable to move on from the past. Perhaps, though it pains straight to my heart to even entertain the thought, they may be correct. Yet Selia, darling child - I turn my eyes to Thanalan's nighttime sky, my tears turning the stars to formless will-o-wisps, and some uncertain trick of the imagination brings a voice drifting 'cross my mind that I like to imagine is yours. The voice tells me there is no shame in being weak, it tells me there is no shame in mourning, nor in taking just this one night to think of what might have been. It speaks truth, I believe - for one must confront their grief in order to move past it, must they not?
There is a girl, my dear, who I care for; she is precocious and intelligent, always asking questions, never satisfied with simplicity; and she is seven years old, just as you would be. Oh, if you knew her, I have every faith that you and she would be the fastest of friends and staunchest of allies, perhaps even great adventurers yourself someday! Selia, I look at her and in her innocent eyes I see you, and it aches so deeply I can hardly bear it but it is the sweetest of pains. She gives me a chance to perhaps see what would have become of you had the sickness not taken you far before your time. And perhaps, somewhere in that blissfully young mind, she understands this - for she does not complain when I tend her skinned knees and scraped elbows and perhaps hold her a moment longer than is necessary to slow her tears, nor does she become agitated when I choose to keenly watch her at play with the others, my eyes never straying. Yet, darling Selia - do not ever think that I could replace you with another, for that could not be farther from the truth. You, and you alone, are the child borne of my body, my own flesh and blood.
The night is growing ever shorter, darling daughter, and I have tarried long over this letter already. The wisp-stars are fading as dawn's light begins to creep into the sky; my tears have slowed, the pain is less and less with each passing moment. My yearly mourning shall come to an end anon, and I shall lay myself down to sleep, waking once more with the grief only an ever more distant memory.
The day comes, Selia. And with it comes renewed purpose for me, with the knowledge that your spirit watches me from the heavens above.
I remain ever your devoted mother,
N'anolia.
FFXIV RP stuff.
N'selia, my dear. You would have seen your seventh summer today, and I can do naught but weep.
Some would call me weak and undignified for this day of distraught memory; some would call me stagnant, unable to move on from the past. Perhaps, though it pains straight to my heart to even entertain the thought, they may be correct. Yet Selia, darling child - I turn my eyes to Thanalan's nighttime sky, my tears turning the stars to formless will-o-wisps, and some uncertain trick of the imagination brings a voice drifting 'cross my mind that I like to imagine is yours. The voice tells me there is no shame in being weak, it tells me there is no shame in mourning, nor in taking just this one night to think of what might have been. It speaks truth, I believe - for one must confront their grief in order to move past it, must they not?
There is a girl, my dear, who I care for; she is precocious and intelligent, always asking questions, never satisfied with simplicity; and she is seven years old, just as you would be. Oh, if you knew her, I have every faith that you and she would be the fastest of friends and staunchest of allies, perhaps even great adventurers yourself someday! Selia, I look at her and in her innocent eyes I see you, and it aches so deeply I can hardly bear it but it is the sweetest of pains. She gives me a chance to perhaps see what would have become of you had the sickness not taken you far before your time. And perhaps, somewhere in that blissfully young mind, she understands this - for she does not complain when I tend her skinned knees and scraped elbows and perhaps hold her a moment longer than is necessary to slow her tears, nor does she become agitated when I choose to keenly watch her at play with the others, my eyes never straying. Yet, darling Selia - do not ever think that I could replace you with another, for that could not be farther from the truth. You, and you alone, are the child borne of my body, my own flesh and blood.
The night is growing ever shorter, darling daughter, and I have tarried long over this letter already. The wisp-stars are fading as dawn's light begins to creep into the sky; my tears have slowed, the pain is less and less with each passing moment. My yearly mourning shall come to an end anon, and I shall lay myself down to sleep, waking once more with the grief only an ever more distant memory.
The day comes, Selia. And with it comes renewed purpose for me, with the knowledge that your spirit watches me from the heavens above.
I remain ever your devoted mother,
N'anolia.
