06-20-2020, 02:14 PM
“You are dreaming,” she agreed. “So that seems logical.” An impish smile quirked her lips, and little else in the way of needless explanation. She did not consider such things important, though neither did she mean to vex. Her gaze moved between them, not lingering on the distraction of how they shifted, but it was upon Malik her attention settled. Concern pressed a light frown to her expression. Her diversionary weaving of the flower petals in her lap stilled.
He had spoken of power imbalances; the strong and the weak, the best and the worst: dichotomies ever in the clash of war. Those things were perfectly natural, if they were more definitive lenses than the ones through which Nimeda chose to view the world. She did not condemn the struggle any more than she questioned why he had been so vehemently wedded to his own destruction. A splinter could not survive on its own, though; not whilst maintaining enough humanity to find any sort of peace along the long road of life, and for that she did have an interest.
They could not continue this battle.
And yet, having already been given the breath of life, neither did Malik deserve to die simply for the crime of his nature. The fertile soil of Nimeda’s empathy did not have much moral instruction, and watching the fury and indignation frozen upon his expression stirred it in her chest. Death would be a kinder choice than the chains imposed now, for Nimeda could not abide a cage. She seemed on the verge of crawling to her feet, urged to intercede on that cruel act of control, though she did not.
“He is not an animal to chain, Marcus,” she said softly. “I think you gave him life. Take it away if you must, but do not make him live like that.”
He had spoken of power imbalances; the strong and the weak, the best and the worst: dichotomies ever in the clash of war. Those things were perfectly natural, if they were more definitive lenses than the ones through which Nimeda chose to view the world. She did not condemn the struggle any more than she questioned why he had been so vehemently wedded to his own destruction. A splinter could not survive on its own, though; not whilst maintaining enough humanity to find any sort of peace along the long road of life, and for that she did have an interest.
They could not continue this battle.
And yet, having already been given the breath of life, neither did Malik deserve to die simply for the crime of his nature. The fertile soil of Nimeda’s empathy did not have much moral instruction, and watching the fury and indignation frozen upon his expression stirred it in her chest. Death would be a kinder choice than the chains imposed now, for Nimeda could not abide a cage. She seemed on the verge of crawling to her feet, urged to intercede on that cruel act of control, though she did not.
“He is not an animal to chain, Marcus,” she said softly. “I think you gave him life. Take it away if you must, but do not make him live like that.”
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