[Figuring it out... She would scoff at that if she had the strength to. She has tried that and still ends up back in the same place—a place of power and comfort, where she does not have to worry about falling into the same pitfalls. Only now, she doesn't know where that place is anymore. It was at Barnabas's side, and with him gone, so is that perch, and she is left wondering where to go, beating her wings long after they are tired while she looks for a new one...
She turns her body slightly, and her eyes wander down to where he holds her hand in his.]
I was weak, Cidolfus.
[He had seen her when they first met. Skin and bones, her hair always a tattered, uneven mess, and boundless amounts of aether in her that she could not control. Garuda had been loud then, and she is louder now, as Benedikta slowly feels herself losing her grip on her the longer that she tries to stay in the air and not fall. She did not know then who she wanted, who she even was... They said that she could live her life the way she wanted to, that she was no longer a little slave girl, but...
Her wrists... they ache and burn.
She still is, as Garuda is wont to remind her now.]
And I did not want to be anymore.
[That was it. At the bottom line, that's all that Benedikta wanted. She no longer wanted to be "girl" or "hey you" or the one who would have to endure lashings and yelling when she didn't know what she'd done wrong. But it all taught her a valuable lesson: that power was everything, and if she had power, she had the ability to stand above it all. To never be that wretched, scared little thing again.
...
And yet... his questions give her pause because...]
no subject
She turns her body slightly, and her eyes wander down to where he holds her hand in his.]
I was weak, Cidolfus.
[He had seen her when they first met. Skin and bones, her hair always a tattered, uneven mess, and boundless amounts of aether in her that she could not control. Garuda had been loud then, and she is louder now, as Benedikta slowly feels herself losing her grip on her the longer that she tries to stay in the air and not fall. She did not know then who she wanted, who she even was... They said that she could live her life the way she wanted to, that she was no longer a little slave girl, but...
Her wrists... they ache and burn.
She still is, as Garuda is wont to remind her now.]
And I did not want to be anymore.
[That was it. At the bottom line, that's all that Benedikta wanted. She no longer wanted to be "girl" or "hey you" or the one who would have to endure lashings and yelling when she didn't know what she'd done wrong. But it all taught her a valuable lesson: that power was everything, and if she had power, she had the ability to stand above it all. To never be that wretched, scared little thing again.
...
And yet... his questions give her pause because...]
What is there beyond that?