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Pyrrha sat next to the window, having pulled one of the black sheets aside to allow some of the blue light to bathe the room. Camilla and Nona were asleep, and it was very early in the morning. She held a glass full of some sort of hard liquor in one hand, and the other was curled as if it could manifest a cigarette just with the motion.
The human flame she loved holding out a lighter, both of their heads coming together as they lit their cigarettes, inhaling each other as they did.
The ghosts of the past were haunting her tonight, and a deep sense of alone had settled into her gut, into a place she would never be able to reach.
She was happy enough, she supposed, in her day to day, looking after people she loved, helping people she liked and doing the right things she knew she did for herself. But in her dreams, in the intense light of Varun the Eater, she could remember, and she could dream of a time before, of a time that would never eventuate.
Taking a swig of the bitter liquid in the glass, she welcomed the burning sensation as it made its way down to her stomach, trying to erase the knots there. Looking up at the sky, she spoke gently, under her breath, in a language long forgotten. "Emmène-nous, mon amour. S'il vous plaît?"
Engulfed in the River with the body clutched to her, Pyrrha knew she had to live; not for herself, but for the person she had saved; of the soul of the cavalier who should have… could have… been her child, now lost to them.
She didn't see Varun the Eater as a threat, like the others. She saw him as a promise that an end would come. It was the most she could hope for, for Pyrrha was tired. Nona didn't want to leave this place, and Camilla wouldn't; or couldn't. Palamedes didn't seem to have an opinion either way. She couldn't run away from Blood of Eden, but she didn't want to fully join them, either. She was done being directed by others.
A reality was possible somewhere, if they had been willing; a far-away moon that hadn't ever felt the touch of a dictator or a God, one that had a breathable atmosphere and good soil. A place where Pyrrha could create a kingdom of peace; a final resting place for her tired existence.
The blue light did not speak back, but she continued the one sided conversation anyway, lamenting. "Toutes ces voix, fais comme ci, fais comme ça." Taking another swig, she closed her eyes.
It would be another day tomorrow; of the tension that ran through New Rho; that infected her team with anger and sadness, inconsolable and increasingly more uncontrollable. Wages had dipped again, and things were becoming harder to afford. The dirt and smog and filthiness of the slums that they were surrounded by reminded her of a world that no longer existed, one that she could barely remember after more than 10 thousand years. She would do it, though; go through the day, not for herself, but for the beloved family that were sleeping nearby, so close and yet so far, protected by her, by her body, once borrowed, now hers completely.
G- had looked at her, holding her hands in his as they started speaking together, the Eightfold Word, taking the steps they knew they would never be able to undo, finally becoming one, as was meant to be. "Une chair, Une fin."
Finished the drink, Pyrrha embraced the burn and said goodnight to the Eater, nodding her head in respect. "Bonne nuit, mon ami." Tacking the cover back up, she didn't notice a shadow in the hallway beyond the door, silent and watching.
Not for the first time, Camilla Hect felt that she was looking at someone she would never be able to truly understand, no matter how similar their existence in the short term; someone who would never use the power she wielded within herself; a God, an emperor… a king among mortals, created by a monster.