She had stayed in Cordova, saying goodbye to a brother whose existence had gone unspoken about, a nameless baby unmeant to have lived; he left for the castle, never looking back.
He wouldn't bow to a creature and was broken, given something he could never give back; only a day after, he had wiped his nose and dried his face and picked himself up, setting to work forging his first spear before he had even learned how to used it.
She looked him right in the eyes while Cordova was falling, the two of them alone in a house, and he could see in her face she was scared by the Isaac she saw; he let her run, sending his men the other way.
He isn't sure if Julia is smarter than either of them, when what he did was only what he felt was right. What had felt like the only real choice he could make and live with. But she is more patient, more graceful. More deserving than them of a life better than the hand she was dealt. But it is what it is.
Isaac lets his hands fall, reluctantly. They dangle between his knees, opening and closing; he looks up, briefly, only to answer.]
'twas a damned patch of myconid. Crimson found them first, burning to ashes what it could before they vanished into the earth.
no subject
She urged him to forgive; he couldn't.
She had stayed in Cordova, saying goodbye to a brother whose existence had gone unspoken about, a nameless baby unmeant to have lived; he left for the castle, never looking back.
He wouldn't bow to a creature and was broken, given something he could never give back; only a day after, he had wiped his nose and dried his face and picked himself up, setting to work forging his first spear before he had even learned how to used it.
She looked him right in the eyes while Cordova was falling, the two of them alone in a house, and he could see in her face she was scared by the Isaac she saw; he let her run, sending his men the other way.
He isn't sure if Julia is smarter than either of them, when what he did was only what he felt was right. What had felt like the only real choice he could make and live with. But she is more patient, more graceful. More deserving than them of a life better than the hand she was dealt. But it is what it is.
Isaac lets his hands fall, reluctantly. They dangle between his knees, opening and closing; he looks up, briefly, only to answer.]
'twas a damned patch of myconid. Crimson found them first, burning to ashes what it could before they vanished into the earth.