oxygen | druig

Chapter XIV

"...𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨..."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Her feet were cold, sitting against the little rocks on the shore of the little river.
She had her knees crouched to her chest, teary eyes looking across the water.
The sun had gone down.

They wouldn't be leaving, until that child of a boy had enough time to think.
Ikaris had told her when he finally found her.

Of course not in those exact words.

Even if he wasn't very fond of the idea of taking him with them either.

"Remember, you are the master of your own power." he said through the wind, with her back turned towards him.
It made her nostalgic.
He helped her a lot, sacrificed his time to teach her.

-she didn't return a word.

That was hours ago.
Persia was hoping that Maya was doing okay, but she knew the others would make sure of that.
At least she had that much of a trust back in them.

Her eyes glided up to the sky, the first stars lighting in the canopy.

Makkari always called it the heavens, Sprite loved to embody the thought of it.

Persia found the brightest one, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Are you watching?" she mumbled.

"Do you see how much we need you?" her face dropped, not even the small light of the stars comforting her.
"God, we're hopeless."

Without Ajak, they were lost.
Even if no one was going to admit it.
It wasn't fair, not for Sersi who had that burden as their supposed leader set on her, not for anyone else.

She turned up her nose, brushed her hair behind her ears.

The colorless strands coursed through her hair, pathed like a stream of water, and broke the deep orange color.

She hated her hair ever since she could remember, but now that she had those white patches, she wished she had embraced it more.
Hair dye wasn't working either, aligning with her bad luck.

They had gotten worse since that Deviant attack.

It was probably the only physical difference she had suffered after thousands of years.
Her body was healing like a human, she had scars all over her.
But that wasn't any different from what she used to look like.

The leaves rustled, wood creaking.

Suddenly, the presence of something halted her thoughts, prickled against her skin.
Persia didn't bother getting up.

"Move an inch closer and I won't hesitate to use my power again." she warned, her voice a lot thicker than she would have wanted it to be.

For a moment, she prayed that she was wrong.
But then he spoke.
"You could never tell me apart from the others."

Druig spoke with a stance, and she could have sworn that she still heard that anger being carried behind it as an echo.

Persia dropped her head.
"I always could."

"No, not this way." he returned.
His voice was low, almost as if he was daring her again.

Prove me wrong, he would say.

She didn't have the nerve to, nor the least bit of patience.
Her rage loosened that energy collecting in her chest.

"What do you want?" she spat back, "I won't convince you to come with us, or justify myself."