i tell myself this is devotion⎯⎯⎯this trembling that borders on delirium, this fever that confuses pain for prayer. i tell myself god is watching, that he must see the wreckage i've become.
A glass of amber liquid held bh the rim betwixed inkstained and caloused fingers in the moonlight, ice against the vessel harmonizing with the sounds of the evening amidst the thrashing of the witch's tired mind. Just one more.
"Might get a treat outta it. Good things when hes real excited"
Humming thoughtfully, but letting it drop with a shrug. He'll be glad if the girls never have to worry like he did, as scary as becoming an apprentice had been his youth of trouble with qifrey were hus fondest years
head shaking.
“ he’ll just make a big deal of it and i have a headache. ”
her fondest memories are from after she joined the atelier. with their teachings, she’s finally free to practice the magic of her own choosing.
"mm. He'll love to hear that you should tell em"
At least she and Qifrey make up for it in some regard. Most of his pleasant time with his parents, most promising witch in his village is overshadowed in his memories by tragedy. Hopefully the girls can look back more fondly.
small huff.
“ much like a mother bird with her babies. ”
she doesn’t have many memories of them, mostly just her brother. but then again, she’s blocked out much of her childhood.