 Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?
Ash didn't wanna feel anything. It should have been easy. The war was a good thing for her. Freedom, and she hadn't lost anyone. Save Kitridge, and sort-of Aguilar. And maybe... Schmoe and Recard. Maybe the war was why they were leaving too. But Ash was stoically pretending that she felt absolutely nothing about any of that stuff. Didn't exist, never happened, couldn't remember it. But somehow she still felt angry. Angry about Rosier. And how he took their school, and how NOBODY came to save them for a year, and how he made all those people die(even the ones who fought for him, and therefore lowkey deserved it). It was all his fault. May he have an afterlife full of muggleborns and a grave with no flowers on it.
She just sort of wandered around, not feeling like planting anything or doing stuff. She just walked around aimlessly. Maybe she'd put all the professors' names from second year on paving stones, even the living ones, even the ones she didn't like. She didn't really know any dead people other than Kitridge. And maybe Ashley Fox. Well, Ash was obviously still alive, but, y'know, not the same person at all. It would be dumb to put her own name on a paving stone tho. And she didn't even want one.
She stopped and just stared at the phoenix statue grave thing. She liked phoenixes. All these people weren't coming back, but their ideas were passed down and reborn. Like phoenixes or whatever. Ash wasn't in the mood to think about it. She just want to be numb. She wasn't numb. She was angry, and she cried. |