In This Time of Separation // Todds [Ghosty]
Oct 2, 2016 16:32:49 GMT -5
Post by Kire on Oct 2, 2016 16:32:49 GMT -5
Ansgar Todd
The guide him to a silent room and abandon him inside. This act of supposed mercy - giving a last moment to see family again - is a disguised act of mal intent. He settled into one of the chairs, placing his elbows on his knees, pressing his palms together and touching his forehead to his hands. He knows there will be some moments before his brother and mother arrive, and so he dedicates that time to conversing with his father. Ripred, I have come to your call. Give me the ability to explain, and give them the ability to understand. My love for them is second only to my love for you. Father, I will support your cause and your name as you have supported me and mine from the moment of my conception. Give my mother the strength to watch me go. Give my brother the power to uphold my duty as well as his own. My love will never waiver for you or for them. Please, Ripred, let me do you proud. As though there was an unspoken knowledge of when he had finished his prayer, the door opened only after he had taken his moment of breathless silence.
The Peacekeeper's white uniform flashed a vivid white in the doorway for a moment before moving again. One tall, thin, dark figure entered with a small pale one at his side. He looked up to greet his mother and his brother, eyes solemn but full of gratitude and love. The fact that they came to him now, that they would brave the captivity of the Capitol to see him one last time, showed him that they loved him as dearly as he did them. He stood and went to them, standing close to them but still separate. There was the distinct feeling of an invisible wall having come up between them, dividing them. He had been chosen by Ripred, not his brother, not his mother. He had been named. For all his love for them, Ripred had called to him. He could not disobey even if he wanted to.
Mary went to reach forward but hesitated. He could see her small frame straining against the urge to curl up and simply sob into the expensive carpet at their feet. Even though she didn't speak, he could practically hear her prayer to Ripred. Ripred, protect my boy from harm. Give me the strength to watch him leave. Reaching forward, he took his mother's hands in his own. The illusion of the wall had nearly faded, but the sensation of being held apart still lingered. Somehow, despite being able to feel the chill in his mother's fingers, her life force felt removed from his own. Normally he felt as though they were one person when he was near her, the same as with his brother. Now, however, he felt like he had been pulled from them. Invisible threads were strung between them still, but they were not a true tether. Love was all that held him here, the strength of a love that would take more than fear to break.
He did feel fear. Despite his utter faith in Ripred there was a small knowing in his heart that reminded him over and over that this was a test. This test, he was sure, would be long and difficult. He would mine his grave stone, shape it and engrave it, carry it with him until it was his time to lay beneath it. Ripred would ask this of him, and he would do it. The success of this task was not his life, but his faith, and the faith of others. Along the way, he would instill faith in those who had lost it. The arena was the devil's place, and if he could sew the seeds of faith in that tainted ground and make it hallowed, that was all he could ask for.