Agony in the Garden

A Daily Response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Fence

So lately I have been feeling a bit out of it of sorts and haven’t really been in the mood t write anything. I’m even updating my dream journal from my tablet. I want to post updates and continue with the story but I just feel no inspiration to do so. Here is what I managed to write so far. Hahren, this is for you.

Those new to the story can find the whole story here

Grand Cleric Anastasia

He rocked on his knees, twice per line. Back and forth and back and forth. Reciting the most ironic prayer. Calling out for the guardian angel that watched over him dearly. I wanted my child back, but not like this.

Bran Windrider

“Angel of the Maker, my guardian dear,
to whom the Maker’s love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard, to rule and guide.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Angel of the Maker, my guardian dear,
to whom the Maker’s love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard, to rule and guide.”

I had to give in.

Angel of the Maker, my guardian dear,
to whom the Maker’s love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side,
to light and guard, to rule and guide.”

I had to submit.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to give in. I had to submit. Had to submit. I had to.

Hanariel Avana

He was….crying. I couldn’t make sense of any of this. Bran Windrider who did nothing while two armies ravaged against each other. Bran Windrider who summited a mountain to drink the tears of a goddess for his own satisfaction. Bran Windrider was not a man that I had ever seen reduced to a saddened state in all my 18 years of watching over him. I know that I had just returned to my old duties but I could scarcely believe the change that had happened in my absence.

After my order had called me back in for the routine check I was held back a day due to an irregularity in my ardour. They held me behind their walls for five months before they dismissed me. All it ended up being was a filing error, some stupid clerk put the wrong paper into my file. I was fine. There was nothing wrong with me. Nothing. Too much of nothing was wrong with me. I saw the results with my own two eyes and I am in the optimal condition for those of my like. No psychic fluctuations or alpha-beta wave crossovers. No inconsistencies in my ethereality. Not even any encephalic scarring from past lives or withdrawal from my occupation in the realm of the ‘living’. Nothing was wrong with me and yet I just felt off.

Nevertheless, I continued on. Despite my insides crawling with doubt, I crossed over the boundary line from my world into his and returned. Bran Windrider. What makes you cry so?

Image Credit: Bellini Giovanni Agony in the Garden

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