( Nynaeve's head jerks up when she likewise sees the second ghost, the one silent, but opening arms to the sister who sees her by the stones held in hand. She shifts to place herself somewhat ahead of Nami, as if against ghosts it matters, as if for a stranger she should: she doesn't think about it, more than anything else.
The sisters embrace, and Nynaeve swallows, mouth dry. Heart aching, unaccountable for a woman who has never had siblings of her own, whose parents never had the chance. Who has stood in a place of failing, what feels like far too often of late, to protect those she feels responsible for protecting.
The four a world away, and may they stay there, safe somehow, even while she fears it's been anything but safe. )
The more important task.
( The one that will always be too late. The sisters don't speak, until a sound from Cassandra that is no such thing as words has them parting just far enough to hold the one free hand Tykhe has. She turns her hand with the stones their way, her head following a beat behind. Her eyes remain closed, useless as they are, empty and sullen sockets. )
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The sisters embrace, and Nynaeve swallows, mouth dry. Heart aching, unaccountable for a woman who has never had siblings of her own, whose parents never had the chance. Who has stood in a place of failing, what feels like far too often of late, to protect those she feels responsible for protecting.
The four a world away, and may they stay there, safe somehow, even while she fears it's been anything but safe. )
The more important task.
( The one that will always be too late. The sisters don't speak, until a sound from Cassandra that is no such thing as words has them parting just far enough to hold the one free hand Tykhe has. She turns her hand with the stones their way, her head following a beat behind. Her eyes remain closed, useless as they are, empty and sullen sockets. )
Thank you. For my sister, and my sight.