Into The Rift

Mystery Held Within (39)

-0657 Military Hours, 23rd Of April
-Tartarus Base

A hue of yellow shines through, stirring me from the slumber that once held me captive. Opening my eyes, the soft glare becomes apparent as I turn away from it, relishing in the serenity afforded by the early morning.

I nuzzle into the fabric of the bed, enveloped in its softness with a sigh parting my lips. It was just like before the war, where the silence would serve as my companion, and where my troubles could be cast off into the forgotten blue, destined to arise only when I deem it so.

Keeping these thoughts faithfully close to my heart, I reminisce of the simpler times before I left home, a smile trudging on the corners of my mouth. A distant warmth surges through with each passing memory, where in spite of the people I know being so far away, I hold onto them tightly.

This everyday hope that glimmers regardless, just like the stars I am so fond of. It is this feeling of longing that I so clearly emphasize with the Humans.

All of them were Husbands, Wives, and certainly more. They are special to those they've left in that world of theirs, but I don't know how... only they do. Come what may, but if fate is cruel enough, they will need to cast aside the memories of those they hold dear.

No amount of longing will ever bring the Rift back to its iridescent glory. My pity for them is well rooted in understanding. The portal to a world beyond, an allure they could not ignore, even if it meant forsaking their own for the forbidden fruit that has long since withered to an unrelenting black.

"Home," I murmur, forging inner images of the world I only knew through their words and pictures, or of moving scenes not unlike those of a messenger orb.

Earth.

They hold onto their realm of origin dearly. A world devoid of magic and spiritual energy, where there exists pragmatic nations that were built on the foundations of their elaborate contraptions, forging towering spires of metal and glass that could graze the very skies themselves.

Even more fascinating, were the largest of their land beasts being those of wrinkled grey skin, large flattened ears and a tail that seemed to sprout in place of a nose. Oswin was adamant in those creatures being hideous to gaze upon, though I for one appreciated their gentle aura.

I look around, greeted by the sight of my fellow compatriots still in deep slumber. Their faces hold the mark of peace, innocent and unmarred by the affairs of our own world for the moment.

Letting loose a yawn, I rid my silvery hair of its unkempt appearance and texture. Without much need to be well groomed, I opt to merely comb my fingers through the restless mane, taming them to fall over my left shoulder in a neat bundle of white.

Despite the endeavor, rogue strands stubbornly cling to my face, refusing to fall in place, the result of a night's worth of tossing and turning it would seem. Without a thought, I move a hand to tuck the offending strands behind my ears, making myself presentable at long last.

I shake my idle thoughts away, placing renewed focus on what awoke me in the first place. Looking to the rays of light that came through the window, I anchor my sights on the mountain ridge lines in the distance, seeing the sun hesitantly peeking over its jagged edges like a shy maiden in waiting.

Just as the days before, I allow myself to be swept away by what is expected of me, weaving into the rhythm of duty with a graceful ease. I don my armor, great care taken as I fasten the many straps, with the last being those of my helmet's, the ornate metal patiently gleaming with the subtle flair of infused crystals.