Kaina lay on the floor of her cage, wrapped in the warmth of her wings. The people had finally gone home for that night, but she appeared to be on display for the general public. The crowd had fought over who got to see her next. Lena MacLeod's fan base had rapidly turned against her; and Kaina could only expect more of the same tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that; until she starved to death in her cage. She kept hoping somebody would come to fix the display of fake food, in the spirit of tormenting their captive. She wanted to rip them apart, until they decided she was not worth any more lives.
The night seemed quiet. All Kaina could hear were her own movements and the raindrops that splattered into and around her cage. After several hours of laying on the floor and trying to ignore their offensive mockery, she finally sat up and folded her wings; wiping the tears away. She got to her feet and felt the belt sliding down her body; and she pushed it to her feet, stepping out of it. With a sigh she approached the bars and curled her hands around the frigid metal, casting her eyes to the eternal beauty of the night sky.
Even if she could fly, she did not know of any other entrances into Partholon. She had used a mirror to get to earth, and she thought she would have ended up in a room. It would have made it so much simpler to approach a mirror and imagine a door…but no, the Divide had taken her to a field. Even if she could fly, she didn't know which way it was. And even if she had ended up inside the mirror image of Epona's Temple, would she not be in the exact same place? Would she not have gotten there even sooner?
Doomed, her mind whispered. Rejected. Unwanted.
She closed her eyes at the insistent tug of her demons. They would never leave. There was no Prophecy; they were predestined to live within her for as long as she breathed. Maybe even beyond.
Lochlan had lived more than 150 years, and he was considered middle-aged. Kaina was only seventeen.
She couldn't go on like this. Her long lifespan was a curse. A curse that would take more than a century to lift. Her tears began anew and she wept, acknowledging worries and thoughts that she had spent her lifetime keeping at bay with her demons. Turning into the lonely interior of her confines, she looked down and saw the belt, still closed from before. A thought struck her then and she knelt, snatching it from the grass.
Her demons may need a host, but she didn't have to be the incubator for their dark designs. She unfastened the belt, draped it around her neck and sat on the ground. Her breathing came deep and even. She loved her father, of course she did; but she was not strong like he was. She couldn't deal with the madness anymore. And this was life. This was life as she knew it. Every day, a struggle; in a war she wasn't strong enough to win. She wasn't like Lochlan. Kissing her lover, drinking his blood would not save her without a Prophecy. And she couldn't go on.
The thought of death had dried her tears. Kaina picked up both ends of the belt and gave it a good yank. Though her intent was suicide, she began to immediately cough and gasp for air, as her body rejected that which her mind had already accepted.
She forced herself to tighten the knot.