Of Thyme And Tenderness
I thought of my old beliefs as a coat I could shed.
Now, I realize they've tainted me in a way that was so far beyond my comprehension. They've seeped into my body, lingering just beneath the skin.
When I began my journey here, I did so with the best intentions. To better understand the Ancients. To learn and to grow.
And still, I came with weaponry. Swords, bows, daggers — I wanted to be prepared. Prepared for anything. For battle.
That's why I gripped my wand tightly when I saw the Ancient in the distance. It was the first time that I ever laid eyes on one of their kind. They rose from a grassy patch in the valley, suddenly tall against the setting sun. Then, the arched back down.
They were sampling thyme. And humming.
I felt shame wash over me as I loosened my grip. My instincts had betrayed me yet again. So for a time, I just stood there. Listening to a melody that sounded familiar, as if it were human... and maybe it was. Perhaps even more so than I.
From now on, I'll continue without my weapons, without fear, and with a new tune on my lips to march to. Some notes come out crooked; others choke me still... Yet, it's not the song that plagues me, but the horrid cough that rattles below.
Darya