The brush of a breath, like the feathers of a valkyrian lover, caress the night as she sighs and silently laments to the starless sky.
Her form still as stone - her sable shadow akward against the backdrop of eternity. Her pose is serene, if a bit sad - she stands as still as honor.
No - it is in the eyes that one may see her berserker soul. She does not cry - which is all the more sorrowful. Her luminescent pleas to the night go unheard. She meets the sky's even gaze, but there is no god with star-lit pupils to reguard her with mythology's harsh mercy.
What is it that she watches? The flames in her eyes fighting her ice-laden wings? What comprehension dances just below the surface of her pain?
You'll not hear an aswer from her lips. Never. All a mortal will ever be able to do is stand on the outside - never near enough to hear the gentle shattering of her heart. Do not pity the one without honor - she who scoffs at good and evil and the ways of men.
The gods will fare no better. They will stand before her and ravish her delicate gaze with their own. All to no avail. All they will catch in their grasping despair are the faded embers and ashes. |
Submission Name: Valkyrian Berserker
