echoes of truth | ❝ to all of my children to whom.... ❞

[heranswers]

song of hope

BOOK 5: OUR SONG

Our song of hope, she dances on the wind
Higher, o' higher
E'er our hearts endure and remain forever strong
Standing tall through the dark do we carry onCODE BY TESSISAMESS

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[knowandunderstand]

[ It is resignation that he feels, and a sort of numbness that somehow is not enough to dull the hurt inside and the hate that he holds for himself after everything that has happened and that he has done. With his memories returned to him, all he can do is look back on the paths that his life took and feel nothing but disgust for the choices he made. Perhaps being dragged to oblivion is the fate that he deserves, although there is a part of him that feels he deserves all the punishing fates that have ever existed in return for the havoc he wreaked and harm that he caused.

At her question, he shakes his head. ] What meaning is there? Is not the meaning of one's life something determined by the individual? [ She and others like her may have found hope in life and have made spreading that to others the thing that gives their lives meaning. But for him, he sees that there is no meaning in life. Or perhaps it is his life that is meaningless. But again, to say those words to her would surely only cause more hurt and harm, and while he is certainly resigned to lifetime upon lifetime of oblivion, he knows that he need not inflict the same hopelessness upon her. ]

Your answer was not too late for many. [ But he believes it is far too late for him. ]

You did make it home, yes? I am certain that there was never a question of anything else occurring. [ From what he recalls of the two sisters, their determination and stubbornness knows no bounds.

A sad sort of smile takes his face then behind the mask, and he knows that she will most likely feel that sadness coming from him, or at the very least, hear it in his voice. ]

Make things better for those who still can hope and be happy. [ Do not waste your good wishes upon me, Meteion. For he does see it as nothing but a waste, a futile endeavor.

At first, his gaze remains elsewhere, looking anywhere but at the thing she is offering to him. But when it becomes clear he can ignore it no longer, he finally allows his glance to travel to see what it is she holds. An exhale of breath escapes him, sounding shaky and ragged, but he does not reach out for it. To do so, to even get close to it, would surely cause it to wither and die.

A song... Those two words are only words, and mean nothing on their own, but a memory springs unbidden into his mind. It is not a memory of Meteion singing, but of her speaking, and as he listens, he can hear the almost melodic lilt of her voice: a form of singing in its own right. ]

I fail to see what good it will do for any who languish here, but- [ His gaze which had lowered to stare at the ground lifts once more, although he still does not smile. ] At the very least, I promise to listen.

[ He is certain it is a good song, that it will bring hope to those who, unlike him, can still believe. ]