[Nona's braids are finished; Waltaquin's hands flinch, but they don't have the time to pull away before they hold the form of all things and no things, a seam ripped open to be filled and emptied and filled and emptied without limit.
The condensation of everything into so small a space and time, a billion hours of pain and love and the thing in between that's all of them, every worm that balls at the center of it and writhes beautifully, every algae, ant, pauper.
It blends so easily she doesn't even notice how John G is a beacon - a magnet - that in clinging to how distinct and understandable he is it already feels like the boundary of consciousness there is as thin as jelly. Who can blame her for clinging to the Necromancer, the thing that can be understood?
Waltaquin has always followed knowledge; sometimes the darkness has even beckoned to her, shown her exactly what she needed to find and know and do. In that way, she's always felt fortunate, guided by her strong will and superior curiosity. It is, perhaps, that reckless curiosity that leaves her so impressionable and open and so unable to stop anything from coming in. Not for herself. Not for Nona. Not for the earth.
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The condensation of everything into so small a space and time, a billion hours of pain and love and the thing in between that's all of them, every worm that balls at the center of it and writhes beautifully, every algae, ant, pauper.
It blends so easily she doesn't even notice how John G is a beacon - a magnet - that in clinging to how distinct and understandable he is it already feels like the boundary of consciousness there is as thin as jelly. Who can blame her for clinging to the Necromancer, the thing that can be understood?
Waltaquin has always followed knowledge; sometimes the darkness has even beckoned to her, shown her exactly what she needed to find and know and do. In that way, she's always felt fortunate, guided by her strong will and superior curiosity. It is, perhaps, that reckless curiosity that leaves her so impressionable and open and so unable to stop anything from coming in. Not for herself. Not for Nona. Not for the earth.
It was too late for that thousands of years ago.
Even if this time she doesn't want to know.]