Desreal: To Gecko; in this world of loneliness I see your face.

Aquila isn’t the most balanced creature to ever walk the earth. As she maneuvers through the thickets and the needles of the earth try to punch holes in her body, she is quick to remember her water as it washes around her. Through the confines of Desreal, she holds tight to her water element, letting it search for the one thing her heart truly desires. She is no longer a slave; she is free of the shard’s curse. But she doesn’t know if Gecko would understand. The others that surrounded them, whoever they were, did not matter to the mind of the wandering water warrior. Fresh from her battle in Blitz, she moves like languid seduction, like she had every ability of being something beautiful and powerful but couldn’t reach that full potential. If she put her mind to it, she might be something legends are made of. She might be something great and powerful. But she doesn’t dare reach for it; not without thinking first of those she would sacrifice if she were to do something treacherous as Saphira and the others had done. Aquila remembered Ozymandias from her origins in Ilius; she knows her mother reached immortality in Enipeus only through her sacrifices of everything and everyone she held dear to her. To be honest, Aquila cannot – no, will not – give up Gecko as Genesis had done with her lovers (Justinian, Enigma, Alshain, Brutus…). She will not face the world alone anymore.

And so she closes her eye now, and she waits. Inside, she aches. She can feel her heart beginning to break, but she will not allow it. Aquila, you could be great in every way. You could be the strength that defined your mother and father. You could be everything that represents the promise of hope, the beacon of light that shines upon the lands of legends. But she does not step forward and will not unless He is beside her. As her eyes open, she sees him in front of her like he had just seen a ghost. Instantly, her water rushes over her heart to calm it as it beats furiously in her chest. For a moment she cannot speak. She can hardly get her legs to move. Aquila opens her mouth finally to speak, but no words come out. And then, finally, after moments of fighting with herself and overcoming her guilt and shame of her sacrifice, she speaks. ”I’m sorry, Gecko. I never meant to hurt you,” she said through her struggling tears. ”I only wanted to protect my family, my loved ones.” Her muzzle reached for his. It had been so long since she had been with him, alone like this. It had been so long since she had felt the true essence of freedom. And now, she would quench her thirst of it. ”I love you, and I made my choice without you then. But I won’t do that anymore.” Part of her feels the lightning of Kurai (the one she’d had a brief affair with before she’d fallen for Gecko) but she ignores it. He is lurking in the shadows somewhere as he always was.

Her eyes are strictly upon Gecko, her lover, her friend, father of her children, her heart and breath. She watches him as the winds begin to pick up again, uncertain if he would accept her. Anticipation comes with the fact she can only hope to control her breathing as she watches in silence’s sweet serenade.