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It hadn’t taken long for the Aurelians to finish unloading supplies designated for the temple - once they’d managed to snap themselves out of their stupor, that is. The Blight-Born - [i]Pleiades[/i] - had left them all disoriented, like they were buzzing through an anxious fog. The gravity of the situation had settled in with stark clarity. They weren’t just making a trip, delivering cargo to some settlement. They were part of a mission trying to [i]save their kingdom from ruin[/i].

Tia had fluttered around the workers, trying to find a way to help and being waved away each time as they lugged boxes through the new temple to find appropriate storage places. They hadn’t even permitted her to hold open any doors for them. She settled for just staying as out of the way as possible, hands wrapped tightly around the notebook and charcoal she’d been offered. The smooth texture of the cover, the small edge of the charcoal, grounded her to the present as her nerves tried to buzz her apart, atom by atom. 

And then finally, the pantries were full, the beds were covered in warm winter blankets, and there was a tall pile of slow-burning logs stacked along the wall of the innermost chamber of the temple, a fire already sending smoke and embers up from a golden dish that sat level with Tia’s chest. The soldiers and attendants all bowed to her before they left, the old coachman taking a moment to pause before her. A weathered, calloused hand gently encircled her wrist. He gave a light squeeze, and Tia nearly burst into tears.

“May the sun’s glory warm you, my lady.”

She could only stare, watching as the Aurelians trickled out of the temple, onto their next task of delivering the remaining supplies to the prince. The door to the temple closed with a heavy [i]thud[/i], echoing through her bones. 

Tia was alone. 

Tia hadnʻt been alone since… [i]well[/i]. She tried to swallow, to clear her ruined throat, even though she knew it wouldn’t work. Her hands tightened painfully against the notebook. 

Being alone was dangerous - it meant there was no one to see her fall apart.

In the absence of other people, eyes and ears to see her and judge and define the edges of her personhood, Tia didn’t know how to stop her overwhelming thoughts as they expanded to fill the space, like a surging river overflowing the embankment, like light flooding a field with no trees to cast a shadow. Her shoulders trembled, her body a feeble container for the force of her own emotions. Tia was going to come apart at the seams until she was unrecognizable. It was inevitable. 

She wasn’t a person. [color=#FFFDEF]She was [i]blood[/i], hot and slick as it seeped into the ground. She was strings of ruined flesh,[/color][color=FDF9E0] pulled apart and scattered in the wind. She was a voiceless scream, [/color][color=fffbda]she was smoke and fire and she couldn’t[/color][i] [color=fffbda]breathe, she was the flash of claws and a field of corpses, she was[/color] [color=fffacd]dyingdyingdying -[/color][/i]

A sound like a clap of thunder jolted Tia back together with a gasp. 

She was on the ground, curled in on herself like she could hide from her reality. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there. Her knuckles were white, slender fingers curled painfully tight around the hard material of the book. The charcoal had slipped from her grasp, now laying on the floor - the source of the sound. Her other hand had slipped under her scarf, nails digging into the smooth bumps and valleys of her scar. 

She forced a shaking breath in, air catching in the tatters of her throat. She forced her fingers from her neck. When she pulled her hand from under her scarf, the edge of her nails were tiny sickles of red. Tia flexed her trembling hand. She sniffled. When had she started crying?

She was tired. That was it. Just travel-worn and overwhelmed from the weight of her responsibility here [i]exhausted[/i], and -

And she hadn’t been that close to a Blight-Born since she’d gotten her scars. She looked down at the book, still held tight in her hand. She looked at the small charcoal on the temple floor.

Another breath in.

Tia ran a hand through her pale hair, messy and falling out of the bun she’d tried to force it into. 

She couldn’t just sit here, pathetic on the floor. Even though she desperately wanted to. A wash, she decided. She would feel better without the weight of travel clinging to her skin. Then she could bless the temple grounds, burn the incense - do the work that was expected of her. Tia didn’t know how she was going to manage it. She supposed she didn’t have a choice, though. Not when so much was at stake. A shaking hand brushed the fresh tears from her cheeks.

Then Tia retrieved the charcoal and forced herself back to her feet. She was the Sun Priestess of Dawnhaven once more.
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[sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Pleiades [@The Savant], Flynn [@The Muse][/sub]