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she's gonna be fine, is the thing. she's not going to let some stupid-ass prophecy tell her what to do. they're going to crush the knight and they're going to save the world and all three of them will be fine at the end of it.
so why can't she stop thinking about it ?
it's started raining again, and she doesn't want to go home and she can't go back to kris's, so she shoves her hands in her pockets and hunches her shoulders up against the rain and starts walking. she'll end up somewhere. she always does.
her hand still stings from breaking the glass. she clenches her fist and feels phantom shards of glass bury themselves deeper in her palm. there's nothing really there. she checked. it's just some phantom pain. she clenches her fist tighter inside her pocket until she's sure her nails have left dents in her skin, and she doesn't stop.
(it's just-
what if she can't stop it? the prophecy. there has to be another way, there has to, but what if they don't figure it out in time? she knows what she said, but now that the sun is down and she's alone in the rain and she has nowhere left to go, she keeps thinking about it. there has to be something better to focus on.)
mud sticks to her shoes as she squelches through the graveyard. she doesn't care. it's just mud. she's tracked mud across half the damn town by now. the bench at the edge is soaked, but she sits anyway. her clothes are soaked through already, who cares?
(because, like-
it's not like she's worried. of course she's not. she said as much, didn't she? she's not letting this fuck-ass prophecy get the better of her. she said it, to ralsei and to kris and to herself, again and again. what does she have to be worried about? nothing's ever set in stone. if it is, it means that some god somewhere really fucking hates her, or she wouldn't be sitting in a graveyard in the rain because she doesn't want to go home.)
festival tomorrow. that might be cool. maybe. it'll be good to hang out with noelle again. at least she's not in any freaky prophecies.
fuck, what is there to think about that doesn't go back to the damn prophecy?
she pulls her hand out of her pocket. her nails finally broke skin. guess that phantom pain isn't phantom anymore. rainwater drips down her hand and mixes with her blood. she balls her fist back up and sticks it in her pocket. she's starting to get kinda cold.
by the time she finally gets up, her legs have almost fallen asleep. the rain stopped, but it soaked through her clothes so bad it doesn't make much of a difference whether it's raining or not.
(and, well-
she doesn't have much choice, is the thing. about the prophecy. none of them do. it's still happening. she's stuck with it, up to a point, although there's obviously no way she's letting the ending slide. but there's not much she can do about the damn thing right now except try again tomorrow and do better.
and she will do better. all three of them will do better. they're going to crush the knight and they're going to save the world and all three of them will come out the other side just fine . now that the rain has stopped and the moon is out, she's sure of it again.)
it smells nice.
after the rain.