Posted by Skylar; on November 2, 2008, 8:47 pm
66.215.227.73
-Charles de Lint-
Skylar, too, was alone.
Everything that she had ever known and loved had been stolen from her, and despite how she clutched these things to her breast, they fluttered away. It was like trying to grasp at something that was not really there, or water. It just slid right through your fingers no matter how you tried. She remembers only two faces now, though they held the most significance to her. Hawthorne; her mother. The woman who Skylar barely remembered, the one that really she shared no known traits. The mother that she needed so desperately and who had left her however unintentional it might have been. Nicodemus; father. The man who Skylar needed now more than ever before, and the man who condemned her to hell. She knew now what she had been blind to before, though her heart (still so young!) could not fully comprehend. Nicodemus blames Skylar for Hawthorne’s untimely end, and would he have it his way Skylar would be rotting in the sea rather than Hawthorne. Skylar was a mistake.
It was for these reasons that she remains distant. Afraid to feel the things that stirred in her kind heart. It seemed that all love got you was pain, and she would not have that. She would not become what her father has.
Her kindness was there, however. And her heart was one that her father once possessed. Anyone who had known Nicodemus would say of Skylar that she truly was his daughter. Once he had been kind and generous, putting before him others and thinking of himself lastly. Skylar was the embodiment of what he had once been. She was gentle, loving. She smiles now, and really for no reason other than to smile. To be alive, because the Elements had breathed life back into the child, and rekindled a flame that had long since died in the girl.
And with her smile comes a scent to the girl. Her winds warning her though not of any danger. She was in the Academy, and harm never came to these parts. For once, my ghost-girl was not afraid, and because of this she seems more real. Skylar was often called simply that; a ghost, an apparition or a mist. Some called her hummingbird. In truth she had many names, and it all depended on how you saw her.
Formaldehyde. Skylar thought, and with her thought the winds pulled him to her. She smiles again, only this time it was for him. “Hello.” her voice is shy, because that was what she always seemed to encourage, and the tone was truly what she lacked in physical beauty. It was perhaps the most perfect sound in the world, misleading to the small skinny girl that it came from. “You smell of Andarin, my home.”
Scholar // Air I // Andarin
Nicodemus x Hawthorne
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