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| - Everlasting Light 12-1-3003 Gray Horse Midbay (a rare moment of solitude) Volidana had been waiting until she was alone or as alone as one could get on a small Ungstiri starship. The others were in the cockpit save for Hezekiah who was sleeping just a few feet away. She pondered waking him and discarded the thought. The irony of waiting for solitude to perform what would normally be a communal ritual was not lost on her with her ‘parents” insult ringing freshly in her ears. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed about her emotions, she just didn’t want to waste time explaining to anyone that she wanted to cry, needed to cry, something that her parents would again ironically understand. She did not want well meaning words of comfort. Her tears didn’t need to be gently dried. They needed shed freely. Nor did she want to waste time arguing that her parents may not in fact be dead. Their ghosts may well be a figment of the Kamir drawn from her own worst fears. She knew that. The fact was on the chance that they were in fact ,dead, they had gone far to long without proper remembrance. She rose silently. Tears were already flowing freely down her face, moisture matting her silver-white bangs against her forehead. She went to the small trunk that held all of her possessions and withdrew three rainbow colored candles and a book of matches. Setting the candles atop the trunk and gently draws the matches across the surface. ~ Let this light serve both as a symbol of the light you shared with others in life and that your light is always a part of nature . your light now shines with volir for… Voli’s hand shakes as she is about to light the first wick and the tentative flame on the matchhead is extinguished her purpose halted, it too wavers and she cries with in her mind ~Do you understand why I do this even when that which we believed may be a lie? …Do I understand why I do this…I have no better way to honor you than following that which you taught me….~ Nonetheless the words of ritual are replaced by the anguished ~Volir’s children wail in darkness Searching in vain for the promised. Light~ She regards the cold dry wick for a long moment. A red aura of anger envelops her. Tears burn hut. A gasp. A breath then slower deeper. She looks and lights the candle wit new resolve and lights the first wick Her own words serve now ~Search in vain no more mother. Here is thy light. Though art remembered. Be at peace. With the lighting of the second flame. ~Father, know that there are truths that you taught me which rise above any god or goddesses name and these I carry forever in my heart. That peace is the desire of the righteous heart and the aim of every righteous life. That one’s body, mind and soul are meant to be shared. Feelings and self-expression reaffirm the beauty and worth and life. Through song, dance, work and celebration we live, we love, we teach and we remember And so father, hear my words. Know thou are loved be at peace. She pauses a moment before the lighting of the third flame. ~Colonel who was also my teacher, my guide, and my light on new journeys . Even now your words of hope and strength help to drive dark thoughts away. I do not think you perfect. You replace neither my god nor my parents but by watching you struggle against your own imperfections and the violent nature of your race gave me strength to carry on, a conviction that my efforts were not in vain. I have seen your anger though you sometimes strove to hide it and your love though you never said the words. You accepted me though you did not understand. You told me long ago that you would not have me raise my hand against another but to protect the crew. I will not forsake my end of the promise as you have not forsaken yours. No harm will come to them but that my arm stand ready to fight against it. We will complete this task before us. Let this light serve as a reminder of this promise and your life with all its lessons and imperfections. You are loved. Be at peace~ The third candle blazes as Volidana kneels wiping her own tears dry OOC This story was inspired by Russkaya who scenes never fail to challenge my intellect and creativity. As is often the case with Russkaya’s scenes, the impact on my character could not be adequately expressed in the scene itself and so I engage in a bit of self-indulgence and self exploration. Thank you Russkaya you help me to grow as a writer, an artist and a person.
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