Desreal: II; and everything is difficult to know what's coming

She is a haunting reminder of the power of the shards. Images of Solira dying and consumed are not in her mind; for while her home and loved ones were perishing at the hungry jowls of the canine catastrophe Aquila was committing her own sin. Lost and confused, she had chosen to not return to her home, lingering in limbo as the world came crashing down around her. She saw Kurai, saw Stymie and so many others. Aquila had simply watched as Baraqel followed his friend Strandwolf into the dark abyss of death. She’d been there, lingering in the shadows, when Kratos had been murdered, and she’d simply watched from a distance as Courage, her golden little sister’s heart had been broken. Aquila is not like her mother. While Genesis had been the perfect picture of strength and glory, Aquila had been something darker and far more destructible. She is a mess as Gecko finds her, and her blue eyes are like that of a zombie – lacking all forms of life and light as she watches his approach. Is he a dream? Is he a simple mirage? The scar on her body sizzles against her skin, and no amount of her water’s ability can temper the sting.

”Gecko,” she says in a sweet, cooing voice as if she was a child once more, pressing her body into his with a brilliant tear falling from stinging sapphire eyes. Her thoughts are a complete blur, too far gone in her own misery to realize that his relic is the reason for her scar’s stinging but also a dim reminder of how she had been before. He speaks again, and his voice is likened to that of an ensemble of angels singing in the heavens. She listens, and oh how his words bear with them the unmistakable truth that rejoices inside of Aquila. ”Save me?” she asks. The question brings to mind the times when she had given birth to her daughters and son, when she and Gecko first met. The suggestion brings with it the truth that she has a fighting chance still. But can she rightfully do it? Inside, oh, how her heart is torn. The dark shadows cross her face as she turns away from the pony-stallion she has devoted herself to after everything they’d been through. ”I’m not worth saving, Gecko. Not after what I’ve done,” she says as another tear threatens to fall from her beautiful eyes. She mutters her sin, but knows that he probably didn’t hear it as clearly as he would have liked. So, as much as she can’t stand the thought of seeing the look on his face as she is admitting to him the tragedy that she has just committed, Aquila turns to face him. ”I killed Strandwolf, Gecko. Alcatraz told me to, and so all of his slaves did it. We killed Strandwolf.”

Perhaps Gecko knows what she’s about to say before she says it. Either way, the truth and reality of the situation falls on her features as another tear falls. All those years she swore to be like her mother, to protect those that needed it and defend them at all costs. She is a murdering fiend, a slave, and a hypocrite. How could anyone ever care about her again?