His fingers freeze on the strings, the instant's silence somehow strangely discordant.
--Wei Ying on the cliff's edge, falling, falling--
Wei Ying!
--the desperate fight at the Burial Mounds, too late, too late, too late--
The Yiling Patriarch is dead! Isn't it great?
--weeks of fever and months of pain in the cavern, every heartbeat a betrayal and every breath a loss, playing Inquiry until his fingers cracked and bled --
Wei Ying. Come back.
"Yes."
He resumes playing once more, sending the calming, tranquil notes forth, distancing himself from the whip-slice of renewed pain with his own music. He's dimly glad to notice that his voice is steady, somehow.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2020-09-02 07:41 pm (UTC)--Wei Ying on the cliff's edge, falling, falling--
Wei Ying!
--the desperate fight at the Burial Mounds, too late, too late, too late--
The Yiling Patriarch is dead! Isn't it great?
--weeks of fever and months of pain in the cavern, every heartbeat a betrayal and every breath a loss, playing Inquiry until his fingers cracked and bled --
Wei Ying. Come back.
"Yes."
He resumes playing once more, sending the calming, tranquil notes forth, distancing himself from the whip-slice of renewed pain with his own music. He's dimly glad to notice that his voice is steady, somehow.
"Wei Ying is dead."