[ she knows something is wrong - and if she were being truthful, she would admit that she's known for a long while. the number of her peers who have fallen to it, who have 'reawoken' and they've started to call it, it's not a number she can simply ignore. what she doesn't quite understand, though, is why no one else seems to agree with her that whatever it is that's going wrong, they can fix it. they're gods now, after all. their connection with the singularity, their powers, their understanding of how this all works - they can make this better, they can make this work, and she doesn't understand why it feels like she's the only one trying.
( though that isn't true either - istredd agrees with her, others would too, if she wanted to take the time to collect them. instead, she dives into her own studies, her own theories, her own path. )
because this is her rebirth, this is her future. they are safe, they are whole, they are all together - where she has her family, where she has her people, where chaos and magic reign but can be dealt with, where they are allowed to simply be. these rumors that it's not real, that there are other memories, other pieces missing - no. no, there is nothing missing. there can't be.
( they're happy, aren't they? they are. they're happy. this could be their life. )
his voice breaks through the trees like a blade, and yennefer doesn't want to hear it. the intensity that she doesn't surprises her, unprepared for the spike in what it brings, but she knows why he's come. knows what he's chased her down to speak on. for a moment, she does consider ignoring his call, does consider keeping her attention on her tasks, on her projects, on finding a way to piece back together the shattered sky above them.
lightning flashes through the cracks in the sky above them, filling the clearing with light, and she is there - mist twisting, shifting, changing around her like some kind of swirling wind, a tornado of dark colors, greys, like the very storm cloud above them forced into the figure of a woman with dark locks and violet irises. ]
I don't care to repeat myself. [ another spindling strike of lightning breaks through the fissures in the sky, and yennefer's form is solid, is...familiar, though perhaps only to him.
she does not have time for this, but even she cannot resist the pull to him. ( has never been able to resist it, even if she doesn't recall why, when this all began ) but it feels strange, the impatience in her chest, the way it claws at her throat. she doesn't remember the last time anything felt this urgent, not for hundreds of years now. ] So I do hope you're here for something else.
no subject
( though that isn't true either - istredd agrees with her, others would too, if she wanted to take the time to collect them. instead, she dives into her own studies, her own theories, her own path. )
because this is her rebirth, this is her future. they are safe, they are whole, they are all together - where she has her family, where she has her people, where chaos and magic reign but can be dealt with, where they are allowed to simply be. these rumors that it's not real, that there are other memories, other pieces missing - no. no, there is nothing missing. there can't be.
( they're happy, aren't they? they are. they're happy. this could be their life. )
his voice breaks through the trees like a blade, and yennefer doesn't want to hear it. the intensity that she doesn't surprises her, unprepared for the spike in what it brings, but she knows why he's come. knows what he's chased her down to speak on. for a moment, she does consider ignoring his call, does consider keeping her attention on her tasks, on her projects, on finding a way to piece back together the shattered sky above them.
lightning flashes through the cracks in the sky above them, filling the clearing with light, and she is there - mist twisting, shifting, changing around her like some kind of swirling wind, a tornado of dark colors, greys, like the very storm cloud above them forced into the figure of a woman with dark locks and violet irises. ]
I don't care to repeat myself. [ another spindling strike of lightning breaks through the fissures in the sky, and yennefer's form is solid, is...familiar, though perhaps only to him.
she does not have time for this, but even she cannot resist the pull to him. ( has never been able to resist it, even if she doesn't recall why, when this all began ) but it feels strange, the impatience in her chest, the way it claws at her throat. she doesn't remember the last time anything felt this urgent, not for hundreds of years now. ] So I do hope you're here for something else.