Title: Solitude
Character(s): Damia
Summary: A girl in a tower… all alone.
A/N: Damia stuck me as the type that would have spent the years in a state rambling depression for some reason... anyway... back to my average word count for now.
She remembers, with painful clarity, how the towers standing beside hers used to be tall and majestic. They used to be whole, and she had thought that they'd last forever. Well, they lasted a long time at least… a whole ten thousand years. Ten thousand long, lonely years… and when she thinks of this she curls in on herself, hugs her knees to her chest, and fights the heavy weight of tears behind her eyes just the way she used to fight the virage alongside of her companions.
But they aren't here anymore.
Zieg… Rose… Shirley… Belzac… Syuveil… Kanzas…
Where did they go? She looks around sometimes when she's lucid and hopes that they will come and visit her. Even Kanzas, though he always called her weak and was terribly frightening. She knows though, she knows that they've all gone and left her by herself, and she wants to see everyone again but she's awfully afraid of death because she doesn't know what was beyond the realm of the living, and who was to say that death wasn't even more lonely than this tower?
Some people said that it was better to stick to what you know.
She agreed… though she sees the past and wishes that she could summon her wings and fly herself back to it just so she doesn't have to be lonely anymore, because loneliness shrouds her like a cloak and sometimes the power of it was too much for her to bear. These days she lies atop the dais in the center of her tower, and she pretends with all her might that it is the way it used to be. It isn't crumbled, it isn't dry, it isn't cracked and falling apart. She cries, and she imagines that her tears fill the room with water and her solitude blossoms into something more beautiful.
Years and years and decades and centuries and millennia worth of tears should be enough… right?