The air felt thick with essence, a sensation that did not bother ’herself’ despite its density. Elua er Goltbred’s body was quite different, smaller and lighter than Qatrand’s own, with lean and strong muscles that hid themselves underneath the layers of softening fat and healthy springy skin. Her mind, too, was different... but the emotion of it was imdiately, intimately familiar. Enough to forget for just a few seconds that they were different people.
Sharp and constant ’longing’, an *ache* that had beco so integrated into daily existence that it barely registered as acknowledged pain anymore. Just the permanent state of being separated from sothing essential, for reasons that felt imperative to her. But still, a na repeated like an echo bouncing throughout the walls of her spirit like a ringing tinnitus... a mantra and promise present in every mont of awareness.
’Qat’.
The girl she ’was’ hoped the girl she *is* was safe, doing well in all her endeavors, and that none of these distractions she engaged in actually prevented her from thinking of her beloved for long... if at all. Needing to feel and rember the missing connection even as she needed to dull it.
All the while, ’she’ was looking down at a dark blue lake far below. But nearly everything else was pure white. Edited intentionally to be incomplete. To hide the details of this little world from Qatrand, keeping focus on the things necessary to show the wedding itself.
The swordswoman’s spirit inside the spiritual mory knew this was going to be reported in her letters as being for a reason. If she had to guess, it was rely so that the ’surprise’ of seeing it all for herself the first ti would be retained - despite such details as the color of sky, cloud, and even the dinsions of their bedroom being written down to read and imagine.
Even the small thoughts her mint-drop held in these ’present’ monts had details removed, if they gave away anything too specific about what the rest of the place looked like. But that was all she had removed from them. They were still quite powerful and detailed in all other respects.
’She went overboard. In so many ways.’
From turning back and seeing Nohre approach, walking on empty white space, in the dress that ’she’ had made with the rapid thoughts of the process. To the feel of manipulating Gaseous essence to make their slow-falling thod of travel. And even such perfect Adhesion on a fluid surface that made her own attempts to walk up solid walls look like a creature scrambling up glass!
Raising the altar, tearing away the illusion of the cliff just to reveal the mass ritual illusion of ’witnesses’ within it... Qat experienced the whole ceremony through Elua’s eyes and body. Foreign physical energy movents inside and familiar spiritual sense outside all at once made it a very new experience. Every movent and chosen word was filtered through a cascade of ancient knowledge, structured unlike the many new, wild connections that always seed to be forming for the younger soul.
An attenuating outer shell of a layer to all those ’old’ thoughts - comprised of the Goltbred girl’s best estimation of Qatrand gil Yecine’s opinion on anything and everything - was mildly distressing to the person herself to experience. Considering that it *felt* like it was a brighter and more consistent lodestar than she actually considered herself to be. Yet, she also could not deny accuracy of impressions obtained through this unique decision making process... proving that as *rose-tinted* as the glasses her wife ’wore’ may be...
’It ans nothing if the entire object, the entire person you are looking at is all but the sa color. Maybe I’m just not used to how her view of distorts or mutes the vibrancy of everything else?’
The rain and mountain taphor made more sense from this perspective, buoyed by a truer faith in millennia of observation and hard-won understanding about what made love endure. And behind it, ’her’... El’s own belief that what she had already given to the accepting swordswoman in less than ten years was not at all enough. That there was still an eternity to give and receive, if only her beloved could wait that long with her.
Qat knew she would. But also now knew she needed to tell her spouse that more often when she returned, since she was sure that the girl would never believe any assurance that she had done plenty. Her busy, scheming, mischievous artisan of an heiress always had to push a little more, a little further.
Which is exactly what she seed to be doing ’today’.
Redirected essence, thanks to ticulously prepared rituals activating, channeled Silver through its proper intended Elent. Rather than the superior energy of it scattering wildly in a thumping ripple against absolutely everything that held essence at all. At the sa ti was a spiritual presence, massive and more playful than the reincarnator herself. Utterly impossible to ignore - but the wary brunette she currently was sohow did it anyway.
Her mint-drop cataloging the Divinity and their theatrical flair as *excessive* made the thin stream of ’Qat’ infecting the mory amused. The whole thing seed on observation as a short ga between entities who understood each other’s motivations. However, when the comnt about El letting herself be a child hit, it fird that watcher of the mory into taking it all more seriously than they were. Her spirit rallied its Anchor back to reality, providing a clearer separation right before the reddish-blonde seed to try and speak *for* Qat.
And the swordswoman was very, very displeased that soone else just attempted to use her deepest, true, but *weakest* thoughts about the heiress in order to put her wife on the defensive. When a powerful being began to speak the na Uvraneht aloud, there was fury that did not belong to the mory of El mixed in. Feeling the power lash out, forcefully severing the ’re’ Avatar’s connection to the realm mid-word... the swordswoman experienced the sense of destruction with the sa kind of catharsis as her wife.
Breaking containnt fields. Hundreds of carefully crafted sigils, the result of weeks of testing and work. Consud only to prove that so things should not be touched without asking. And that sharp sting of possessiveness belonged both to the person who had been given the na by her first life’s parents... as well as the only person alive in the new era who had been gifted the knowledge personally.
It was petty jealousy, but Qatrand did not want to share what she had specially been given even with beings who might know everything. Brief, irrational, and if it had been felt by the person who had recorded this mory? - very well might have been cause to be smothered with kisses for an hour or more.
At least, that was what the edited in ’note’ of impressions from the reincarnator suggested, as it overlaid the end of this main section of the wedding.
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