[ P ] close your eyes

Silence filled the halls of the Tiamat manse. It was an unnatural stillness that no one dared disturb. Gentle whispers of encouragement had beckoned to her from beyond her chamber door. They wanted her to eat and to take a walk outside while the sun was still out, but they didn't understand. There were no sunny days for Xandria Tiamat. Her sun had died and her light didn't shine anymore. The love of her husband and children were all she had to illuminate her eternal nights. Like flickering embers they gave her glimpses of hope. The twitching corner of a lip that hesitated to become a smile. Her cough that should have been a laugh. The grief chased away all these tiny moments before she could feel anything other than despair.

Her dreams were an endless reel of her mother's last moments. When she woke, tears burning her eyes and body trembling, for those brief few precious seconds she could breathe in relief. It was only a dream. Then like a jolt of lightning it struck her and that splinter of grief in her heart burrowed deeper.

When she did finally leave her room, fur dishevelled and frame thinner than it had been before, it was to seek out the company of her older brother, Ahki. A shaky breath was released and then she tapped on the door to his room. He had always been someone that she could rely on and she was desperately in need of some guidance. She needed someone to tell her that it wasn't all her fault. That Nassar hadn't died because of her.

@Ahkoris

Art by curiotea

Ahkoris opened the door immediately, not because he had been waiting for Xandria, but because he had been about to leave. He nearly stumbled into her, drawing up short as the door swung open to reveal her face. He realized in an instant how long it had been since he'd seen it -- truly seen it. At the funeral, of course, they had all been together. But before, and after... He could not blame his little sister for taking to her rooms. She had been there to witness the full carnage, she and Cairo. Though he knew little of that day from their perspective, he knew that much. And so no one had bothered her. Her husband and her children (was it possible she truly, truly was a mother of her own? how had the time gone by so fast?) came and went, but she...she had not seemed to leave the estate.

She looked skinny and wane. His eyes raked over her immediately, and then fell back to her face. "Xan," he said, using the pet name he reserved for her. She wasn't knocking on his door for nothing. He silently abandoned his plans to take a solitary walk around the gardens, and he stepped back and gestured her into his room. "Come in." Signs of he and Sybil's life were littered about the room, and it was true, they had lived in it more recently than they had in their entire lives. Sometimes it was a struggle to get out of bed. He could relate to the pain and hollowness in Xandria's face for that reason, but he'd tried to keep it close to the chest. No tears. Mourning, yes, but no tears. He couldn't give himself permission to break.

"I'd offer you something, but..." They were all out of alcohol. He and Sybil had been working steadily through it, a small sign of his grief that he could not stamp out. He wanted to ask her why she'd come, but he did not want to press. His eyes lingered on her face. "How are Miread and Mios?" he asked after a small pause. Miread in particular had made an outcry at the funeral. He could not imagine it had been easy to parent them through this.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Xandria began as she stepped inside. Her scarred features were weary and haggard, ageing her more than her four years. She had not slept properly since before the last battle and even as her physical wounds healed, her emotional ones would not. Every night if it was not Mios crying or Miread then it was her having violent dreams of that terrible moment. She woke up thrashing and screaming. Trying to explain to two already traumatised children that she wasn't hurt or dying, just having bad dreams was getting to her. ”How are-” Ahki began to ask and she braced herself for the question of her wellbeing, but it wasn't directed at her. He was asking about her children. Xandria didn't know how to answer. “They don't understand. I think I made a mistake letting them come to the funeral,” her voice was low and heavy with regret. She had been a year old when she’d experienced her first death. Old enough to understand the finality of it. “I don't know what to do,” she let out a defeated sigh, and glanced over at him. “Mom would know…” Her words were barely a whisper, voice trembling slightly as an intense pang of longing gripped her by the heart.

“I can't get it out of my head, Ahki. I want to forget. I don't want to see it anymore,” she inhaled sharply, trying her best to keep herself together. She couldn't forget those ruby eyes, nor the feel of her mother's blood as she bled out on the ground. She could still smell it on her fur, even after spending hours in the bath long after the water had gone cold and she was left shivering.

art + code: clae