deep breath, deep breath
Yeah I posted this somewhere else but fuck it, I need to post something and this needed to be cleaned up so whatever.
Secret of Kells © Cartoon Saloon
The sky is dark, though a few tendrils of light from the East creeps through the gaping holes in the wall. A pale girl is balancing on a rare still-firm section of it.
Cellach is resting beside Brendan's grave as he always does, and few things could compel him to move; this is one of them. The worn Abbot stands up and calls to her, tells her to wait until he could get to her, fearing for her life.
She gives him a strange look and seems to waver. Her voice is soft but cuts through the pre-dawn stillness like glass.
Then…I can come in? she asks, face oddly blank.
He nods and hurries over, Yes, yes of course you can—he couldn't, wouldn't let another innocent be lost because of him—
And then she nods and leaps.
His heart seizes in his chest and he nearly chokes out a scream, but she lands in front of him as gently as a fallen leaf before it could escape from his throat. Her head shifts to the side, hair fluttering peculiarly, showing him a flash of teeth in her amusement.
Before he can speak, she's vanished. He spins around, trying to find her.
Get away from there! Cellach feels a flash of horror as she stands on top of Brendan's grave. Never mind that it's empty, it is not to be desecrated—
Why? What is it?
It's—it's a—my nephew is—he doesn't know what to say to this strange child, but she seems to understand anyway and respectfully steps off.
He's not... She starts and pauses and smiles again, smaller, sadder, but genuine in a way that keeps any of his angry words from fully forming.
She wavers for a moment, like mist, then flings her arms around him for a heartbeat; she's gone before he can properly react.
Cellach awakens beside the grave in the early morning to Tang's soft touch upon his forehead.
As he sits up, he feels a soft crunch of plants breaking underneath his hand.
He's completely surrounded by white flowers. And on Brendan's grave, even on the stone that could never support life, the snowdrops blanket it, their dew-covered petals glittering in the morning sunlight.