[He watched Jinx and continued to move around so that his footfalls remained a constant beat on the floor below. This was not his first situation dealing with those experiencing Shimmer to this level; after all, he was present for all the variations to determine how best to utilize it.
Did he know short stories? Of course he did, but most of those weren't grounded in a kind of reality that he liked to live in. They were wild and pathetic now that he was the age that he was.]
Of course. [He thought for a moment before deciding on one.] Some time ago, there was a boy who grew up in darkness where his only thoughts were of the Kindred and when they would come. One day, the boy was exploring the noxious mines of Zaun because that was his home and everyone explores their home. The boy found himself lost the deeper he went and the air grew thick and difficult to breathe like some fogs. In the dark with only touch and sound, he struggled to find his way in the stagnant air. The boy thought in that darkness, may Kindred embrace me.
[He paused in his walking, folding his hands behind his back. It was a tale many Fissurefolk endured from his time. The mines were unforgiving and surely no place to raise a family, but for generations, that's exactly how it was to live... and die.]
The boy continued to struggle and prayed for a clean breath of air as he faltered choking on his own weakness. Then there was a faint soft breeze, stirring the air, bringing a single fresh breath. The breeze rose from a tinkle across the skin to a push of wind that lead the way. The boy followed that push and danced through the dark poisonous tunnel with the wind that showed him the way. Up, up, up he went and it wasn't Kindred that found him in the dark but Janna who pointed the way towards a better life.
[Silco turned his mismatched gaze up to the rafters again, fingers twitching behind his back as he considered the tale. A lesson.]
Janna cautioned him that all hope comes with a cost. That is what it is to be of the Fissures, of the nation of Zaun. Freedom and imprisonment intersecting. With a churn of the wind, she left the boy safe with a lungful of fresh air, the breath of a renewed life.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2024-03-17 04:53 pm (UTC)Did he know short stories? Of course he did, but most of those weren't grounded in a kind of reality that he liked to live in. They were wild and pathetic now that he was the age that he was.]
Of course. [He thought for a moment before deciding on one.] Some time ago, there was a boy who grew up in darkness where his only thoughts were of the Kindred and when they would come. One day, the boy was exploring the noxious mines of Zaun because that was his home and everyone explores their home. The boy found himself lost the deeper he went and the air grew thick and difficult to breathe like some fogs. In the dark with only touch and sound, he struggled to find his way in the stagnant air. The boy thought in that darkness, may Kindred embrace me.
[He paused in his walking, folding his hands behind his back. It was a tale many Fissurefolk endured from his time. The mines were unforgiving and surely no place to raise a family, but for generations, that's exactly how it was to live... and die.]
The boy continued to struggle and prayed for a clean breath of air as he faltered choking on his own weakness. Then there was a faint soft breeze, stirring the air, bringing a single fresh breath. The breeze rose from a tinkle across the skin to a push of wind that lead the way. The boy followed that push and danced through the dark poisonous tunnel with the wind that showed him the way. Up, up, up he went and it wasn't Kindred that found him in the dark but Janna who pointed the way towards a better life.
[Silco turned his mismatched gaze up to the rafters again, fingers twitching behind his back as he considered the tale. A lesson.]
Janna cautioned him that all hope comes with a cost. That is what it is to be of the Fissures, of the nation of Zaun. Freedom and imprisonment intersecting. With a churn of the wind, she left the boy safe with a lungful of fresh air, the breath of a renewed life.
[He then hummed and began to walk again.]
...or so the old Fissure tale goes.