Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
.ೃ࿔✹༻'⋰꧂•°▓▓▓▓▓▓▓
𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 strongest meant to be the loneliest. You had no equal, only those weaker than yourself━━ those who could shatter and break within your arms. Breakable. Fragile. Mortal. Their companionship ephemeral.
Fleeting.
To be like her and risk attachments was to doom yourself to heartbreak and grief. Ten years. Thirty. Fifty. Sixty. Sooner or later they'd die, leave, betray you.
It was in your best interest to remain away. To keep your heart safe.
Agnesta knew this. Had it drilled into her skull by Bahgra in the brief moments of her youth they'd shared together. Time would break her if she didn't━━ and Grisha have far too much.
At first she was angry at the world for it. For the long, lonely life she'd be forced to live.
Now it is just the bitter truth she'd long since accepted.
But still, she could not help herself and got attached to the small town that formed over the course of decades she spent in it. Canzowa.
A small town inhabited mainly by Ravkan refugees. Though, you could spot Fjerdans and Shu alike. All of them victims of war wishing for peace.
She had been the first to settle upon the land thirty years ago. A couple followed a Grisha and a Drüskelle and a baby on the way. Then a pair of Grisha siblings from Shu-han. A group of deserters from the first army.
And when people came asking for them, Agnesta made sure no one even found the bodies.
A personal oath to never have another innocent suffer for their sovereigns ever again.
So when foreign ships docked to the town's small harbor, Agnesta was right there and ready to keep her oath.
This time, however, she her feet were stuck on the ground as she watched the dark figure walk down the docking ramp like he owned the fucking word.
No. She told herself. No. No. No. Agnesta's hands shook as she ducked behind a nearby building and tried to pull her wits together. He found me.
Of course he'd found her. They were one and the same, no matter how much she hated to admit it.
Like calls to like. These fleeting years and uncertain tommorows━━ all of it was borrowed time, given to her by others and their sacrifice.
