This, this is the way it was
This, this is the way it is
When the water come rushing, rushing in

She says
She says anytime
Raise your arms
Flood

-- Sisters of Mercy, "Flood II"

He sat on the couch, the silence of night enveloping him. The stereo was running, mike recording the guitar as he strummed it softly. He modulated the chord into another, and became aware of the presence of the Singer. Shoulders tensed.

"What do you want?" the young man asked tersely.

The Singer flowed around him like notes from a pipe organ. ))For you to be your truest self,(( it whispered. ))You cannot grieve forever. You do them no honor by clinging to them in this way. By denying your gifts. By denying the gifts I give you.((

A soft snort. "I'm not denying anything. I just won't do it. I'll celebrate the Rites, but I won't raise the Cone of Power. I won't call the Elements in that way. They know me. They can come as they choose, or not."

))And what of Imbolc? What the the returning light? What did you do then?(( An oboe, yearning alone.

"As if burning candles and sitting vigil wasn't enough?"

))You know better, Alaerian.(( Reproof, the sound of a muted trumpet. Truth. He did know better. He'd just never admit it. Never. Not so long as he was alone. He said as much, and the Singer responded in a light flute ))If you are not denying yourself, why do you not write?((

She'd asked that herself, in her own way. It unsettled the young man on a primal level that he still couldn't put an exact name to the woman he saw so often. He smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck again, removing his hand from the guitar neck to do so. "Because..I don't have anything in my soul worth writing."

Wrong response. Thundering tympani: ))You lie to yourself. Do not think to lie to me as well, Alaerian.((

He cringed back, the strings vibrating from the sound no one but him could hear. Never, never had the Singer used that voice to him. Not even the first time he heard the Earth move. When he turned, the Singer was gone.

He tried to convince himself this was a good thing. Tried not to react in the way he was "supposed" to react.

Nevertheless, a faint sheen of sweat dampened his back.