A/N: This centers around my OC, Snowflake Obsidian. Really, it could be in any character's perspective, provided that their job on Homeworld is to teach the newly emerged gems. Also, when she is referring to "her gems", that means the gems she teaches.
All of the new gems had one thing in common. It didn't matter if they were an Amethyst or a Citrine or even a Peridot. They all had a light in their eye. It's hard to give it a name, but if you had to, it would be kindness. Gentleness. Happiness. Hope. One of the requirements listed in her job description was to get rid of that light. Of course, it wasn't put into those words, but instead hid under the guise of others. Regardless, it was made clear that this light threatened the order of Homeworld.
She hated Homeworld. She hated her job. She wanted to protect and nurture that light. But she couldn't. She was the new gem's main source of information. Their main example. Gems were shattered for having that light. So she had to dim it until it was extinguished completely. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to. She had to if she wanted to make sure the gems under her care and guidance survived.
She remembered every gem that had been assigned to her. Their questions, their laughter, their weapon, their fighting technique. She remembered every one when they had been introduced to her. Remembered the first time confusion and pain had clouded their eyes as they were ordered not to do things that came so naturally to them. Remembered every one of them when their light… died.
She remembered a lot of things. Most, she wished she could have changed. But she knew she couldn't. Others she vowed to make sure that they never happened again. Some… Some reminded her that she had had that light once. Maybe she still did. It became hard to tell after a while.
Almost all of her memories involved her gems. Meeting them, training them, breaking their spirit. It was an endless cycle that was repeated over and over and over again. Regardless of her horrible task, she tried to be kind. She tried not to be an abusive, horrible teacher. Whenever a gem couldn't, or wouldn't, keep up, she trained them more. Spent more time with them. She couldn't bear seeing them shattered, especially when there might have been something she could've done about it. Usually, it worked. They got to the level of the other gems. Finally.
Out of all of her memories, the ones she cherished the most were the ones where she could see the light in their eyes, unbroken and untainted. The ones that scared her the most were when that light persisted, even after it had been beaten back so many times. But eventually, the gems with that light that was so determined to just exist either lost it, or learned to hide it. Both options, she could live with. Hopefully, her gems would survive, no matter which option they chose.
She couldn't tell, as her gems marched away from her to their official, newly-assigned positions, if any of them carried that light. She told herself that she didn't care, but she knew that she did. That was one of the only things she cared about now. She did know, however, what happened every time she watched her gems go off. None of them ever looked back.
Good.
She had taught them that.