( On his way. Two recourses: alive, or culled from inconvenience.
He wishes himself the better man, the one who would not incriminate Emilia of murder. He wishes her the better woman, the one who would not incur stained hands. Red riots on her skin like benison. Blooms from the arid depths of her heart, as it does from Wei Ying's. Blood and its letting suit them.
It's a misaligned thing, to peer through the horizon and see ink spatters on mahogany wood, a young disciple's negligence with his instruments of calligraphy. In a sea blacker than rot, Lan Wangji cannot glimpse a boat.
He's on his way. There must be one. What is it, this flicker of nothing like seeds anchored to the dandelion's head, this young sliver of hope? He tires of faith. It exhausts him to deny or extend it. Trapped on the railing, sustaining both vertical and lateral inertia, his hands clench.
He will not fall. He will not wander. When waters next crest, he thinks he spies a pale silhouette aboard a distant boat. )
That we perpetuate only our gains among them, guests in their opened home? ( This ship. The villages before them. Taravast. The canyon. The frozen Sa-Hareth. ) They never suspect.
no subject
He wishes himself the better man, the one who would not incriminate Emilia of murder. He wishes her the better woman, the one who would not incur stained hands. Red riots on her skin like benison. Blooms from the arid depths of her heart, as it does from Wei Ying's. Blood and its letting suit them.
It's a misaligned thing, to peer through the horizon and see ink spatters on mahogany wood, a young disciple's negligence with his instruments of calligraphy. In a sea blacker than rot, Lan Wangji cannot glimpse a boat.
He's on his way. There must be one. What is it, this flicker of nothing like seeds anchored to the dandelion's head, this young sliver of hope? He tires of faith. It exhausts him to deny or extend it. Trapped on the railing, sustaining both vertical and lateral inertia, his hands clench.
He will not fall. He will not wander. When waters next crest, he thinks he spies a pale silhouette aboard a distant boat. )
That we perpetuate only our gains among them, guests in their opened home? ( This ship. The villages before them. Taravast. The canyon. The frozen Sa-Hareth. ) They never suspect.