01-19-2015, 12:56 PM
"Maybe,"
she said, though she didn't truly think so. She'd never heard of a victim escaping from a hell hound, not once they had been chosen. It didn't make it impossible perhaps, just very unlikely. "But that is a heavy regret to be burdened with."
And it was sad truth that most Atharim had such stories to share; moments of failure and loss, a trail of ghosts muttering what ifs that resonated ever louder in the dead of night. To linger on it could break or make a person; the vow to improve, reforging the dedication to the life of a guardian, else an insurmountable shame and a life revolving around one mistake. To be Atharim, there was little chance of escaping such pain. Often times, it was the very catalyst that set a person on the path to the tattoo.
"It isn't prying. I was born to it too; my family have been Atharim for generations, and I suppose I never considered that I might be anything else."
Even when she had realised what she was, and what she would grow to be: an abomination to the very people she had already ceded her life to. "I had good influences. There is more, but it is perhaps not a suitable topic for here and now."
Her dark eyes were unblinking, and she supposed Aurora would know what she meant; the matter of her power, antithesis to the role she claimed.
"But I didn't take the tattoo unwillingly. It was a choice I made and a choice I stand by, despite everything it has cost me, and may cost me. I keep myself separated from the trappings of an ordinary life, I make the Atharim's causes my subsistence, and it is not a life suited to everyone. I believe in our cause, Aurora. To protect, above everything else."
The honesty with which she spoke was stark, shining like a bright light in the dark corners of her mind. She held nothing back bar the things she could not safely speak of. The only one who could decided Aurora's future was Aurora, and Tehya would not push her one way or the other.
she said, though she didn't truly think so. She'd never heard of a victim escaping from a hell hound, not once they had been chosen. It didn't make it impossible perhaps, just very unlikely. "But that is a heavy regret to be burdened with."
And it was sad truth that most Atharim had such stories to share; moments of failure and loss, a trail of ghosts muttering what ifs that resonated ever louder in the dead of night. To linger on it could break or make a person; the vow to improve, reforging the dedication to the life of a guardian, else an insurmountable shame and a life revolving around one mistake. To be Atharim, there was little chance of escaping such pain. Often times, it was the very catalyst that set a person on the path to the tattoo.
"It isn't prying. I was born to it too; my family have been Atharim for generations, and I suppose I never considered that I might be anything else."
Even when she had realised what she was, and what she would grow to be: an abomination to the very people she had already ceded her life to. "I had good influences. There is more, but it is perhaps not a suitable topic for here and now."
Her dark eyes were unblinking, and she supposed Aurora would know what she meant; the matter of her power, antithesis to the role she claimed.
"But I didn't take the tattoo unwillingly. It was a choice I made and a choice I stand by, despite everything it has cost me, and may cost me. I keep myself separated from the trappings of an ordinary life, I make the Atharim's causes my subsistence, and it is not a life suited to everyone. I believe in our cause, Aurora. To protect, above everything else."
The honesty with which she spoke was stark, shining like a bright light in the dark corners of her mind. She held nothing back bar the things she could not safely speak of. The only one who could decided Aurora's future was Aurora, and Tehya would not push her one way or the other.