Name: Eve
Gender: Female
Age: Adult
Parents/Affinity: Summer Storm
Special Stats: None
Circle: The Trinity Aligned
Adopted from Sionayra

The Tale of the Caged Bird

He is sleeping, still, as the garden dies around him.

Eve never had many gifts to her name, even when it was something else. Sleep is a small thing–suggestion, whisper. She’d done her best to lay it on them, all the ones before; it was the one small sparing she could give. Sleep. The flowers learned her, eventually. Jasmine, lavender, gardenia, all took root, breathing softness into the air. Withering, now, all again.

She is, too.

No, no, not really. Feels like it, though, like something in her’s gone rotten. Dead. She’d been the one to kill it though. At least there’s that.

What have I done?

Go to him. That’s all she can do. Around her, everything’s dying. Every bud she’d tended, every bower she’d tamed, every green green thing she’d coaxed from the ground. Oh, but it was never really hers. Half-enchantment, half-illusion. She’s not Forest Song. Nothing of the sort.

Allfather said I was saint’s fire, glow on the lancing, the shining break of the sky. Quick brightness–my wings were lightning. Oh, how I lit the darkness. I remember.

None of that, not anymore. Here, standing before him–and he’s still sleeping, blessed-be–she is simply a worn-through soul. She is a mare who smells of burning, with three scars on her neck where she used to be divine. Or as close to it as she could get. She feels she could kneel here, finally. She could fall and bow and pray.

Here, before him. He’s just so beautiful, and she–

She is a ruin.