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Description
This is part five of a series I'm posting today. See bottom of description for details.
Music: [link]

"
I was not allowed to speak to the Warrior during our first meeting, for my whole life I had been given very specific directions; he was not allowed the honor of my voice until I was wearing very specific attire. When I was 15 a jeweled choker was crafted specifically for my neck, to serve as a sacred 'gateway' for my voice to travel through during our first conversation. It was created at such an early age for one reason; impatience. My people were extremely eager for his arrival, and extremely selfish. To wear the neck piece now feels more like a trap than a treasure, for my neck has appropriately grown larger, thus making it extremely painful to display.

Though during the later hours of that day, my comfort was the least of their worries. All of the elder woman of the village were scuffling around my tented room, arguing over which items to send me off with. Each one felt self-entitled to supply my robes, my jewelery, and my food. The shriveled creatures frantically pulled out hand-made cloths one after another, trying to out-do what had been previously decided upon. It made no difference to me, in fact I felt ashamed of it all.

What would my warrior think of such trivial things, what would he think of my people? Surely it was not my choice what my culture entailed, but I still felt a heavy sense of shame. I closed my eyes as I sat away from the bickering people, and let my heavy heart sink deeper into my soul, as an anchor would in an empty sea.

____________________________

Previous Part: [link]
Next Part: [link]
This series is heavily inspired by ~SpaceBubble 's work, so if you enjoy it then be sure to check out their gallery!

Description
This is part five of a series I'm posting today. See bottom of description for details.
Music: [link]

"
I was not allowed to speak to the Warrior during our first meeting, for my whole life I had been given very specific directions; he was not allowed the honor of my voice until I was wearing very specific attire. When I was 15 a jeweled choker was crafted specifically for my neck, to serve as a sacred 'gateway' for my voice to travel through during our first conversation. It was created at such an early age for one reason; impatience. My people were extremely eager for his arrival, and extremely selfish. To wear the neck piece now feels more like a trap than a treasure, for my neck has appropriately grown larger, thus making it extremely painful to display.

Though during the later hours of that day, my comfort was the least of their worries. All of the elder woman of the village were scuffling around my tented room, arguing over which items to send me off with. Each one felt self-entitled to supply my robes, my jewelery, and my food. The shriveled creatures frantically pulled out hand-made cloths one after another, trying to out-do what had been previously decided upon. It made no difference to me, in fact I felt ashamed of it all.

What would my warrior think of such trivial things, what would he think of my people? Surely it was not my choice what my culture entailed, but I still felt a heavy sense of shame. I closed my eyes as I sat away from the bickering people, and let my heavy heart sink deeper into my soul, as an anchor would in an empty sea.

____________________________

Previous Part: [link]
Next Part: [link]
This series is heavily inspired by ~SpaceBubble 's work, so if you enjoy it then be sure to check out their gallery!