"I lost myself In the unfathomable depths
Of the aquamarine blue oceans
That were your eyes
They swallowed me all at once
And they never let me go"
The feather danced over the paper, its elegant movements only lightened by the flickering flames of half a dozen candles. The fresh night air coming through the wide opened window wreathed playfully around her dark brown hair, let the flames crack and spent the oxygen she needed, even if she felt like it was never enough because her heartbeat, as a contrast to the endless silence surrounding her, was horribly loud and hunted her breath over her ripped lips way too fast. Sweat moistened her forehead even if the cold air and the angst in her made her skin crawl - she felt feverish, too hot and yet freezing all at once. It was one of those nights where insomnia extended it claws and caught her painfully and without any mercy. Sleeping was impossible because there were just too many thoughts fighting horrendous battles against each others. Their battle cries, their whining and even their bodies finally giving themselves up to death’s cold embrace were too much noise to overhear it. There was no escape from all of this but she talked herself into the assumption that writing about all her fears, the pain, the anger and hatred could at least help her letting it all out somewhere and structuring her thoughts for the moment.
"What if my love;
What if the bond between us
Is stronger than death?"
Her hands, her whole body was shivering as she wrote down the last word. Death. What had accompanied her for her whole life and had been an enormous part of it, one that she had always loved because she was an assassin with all of her soul, was now connected with pain, desperation and fear. If she was granted to get some sleep at all, nightmares would hunt her down every single night, slowly depriving her of all her energy and mental stability. She had been strong for all of her life, there had been nothing that could break her. But now all of that strength, all of the self confidence, the desire to live and the urge to fight were simply gone. She was an abandoned wreck, stranded in the crashing surf of a lonely island. Like Sara once. But in this case there was no one to save Nyssa al Ghul because the only person she had ever loved with all of her soul was not with her in this dimension anymore. She was dead, taken away, forever gone. And yet Nyssa couldn’t stop loving her because Ta-er al-Sahfer would always continue existing in her memory, her heart, her soul and her surrounding.
"I have turned you into poetry too often
To fall asleep at night and not see you in my dreams
To not hear your voice in every sound of nature
I hear you tenderly whispering
In the howling wind
The crashing waves
The cracking earth
The crackling flames"
Sara was everywhere. The smallest things reminded Nyssa of her. How was she supposed to forget something that surrounded her in each and every scenery, that could never ever let her go? That she could never let go. Nyssa had been taught to be fully aware of the present, to let the past be past and find peace with it, the highest goal of meditation, because no matter how hard you try and wish you could, you can’t go back in time and change things. She had learned fast and some had named her a wunderkind because after only ten years of practice she had accomplished what some of the wisest buddhist monks did in all their life time. It was not about never thinking of past and future but to be able to push it away if it hurt or lead to overthinking. It was about knowing how to completely focus on the surrounding, be aware of the moment and grow through meditation. It had made her life a lot easier and even gave her happiness as a young woman because she had wanted nothing more to forget things that lay in the past but were present to her all the time before her training started. It was a gift given to her, to be able to easily leave things behind her and let them go.
But with Sara’s death everything had changed. Nyssa couldn’t push her aside. She didn’t allow herself to do it — a form of self punishment because she had swore Sara’s dad to protect his daughter with her own life. She had swore to take care of her Canary and to not let anything ever happen to her. And she had taken care of her beloved, even if Sara had left her and after all the things that Nyssa had done in Starling City, they had found together again, loved and warmed each other in those cold winter nights in their little house high over Nanda Parbat. But when Sara had needed her, she wasn’t there. The dark and abandoned streets of Starling City had devoured her mercilessly while Nyssa lay on their cozy sofa in front of the fire place and read some Aristotle. She should have protected Sara. It had been her fault and therefore she was not allowed to ever forget.
Was it only self punishment? Wasn’t there also the tiniest bit of hope left that Sara would come back one day? Nyssa believed in death as the ultimate end but she couldn’t stop hoping for Sara to return from death’s realm. She knew about the Lazarus Pits but when she had arrived in Starling City, it was too late to save her beloved. Death had taken her body and soul away and the only thing it left behind were memories that should last forever. Now the past was present all the time, like a noose around Nyssa's neck that almost choked her. Pushing it aside or pulling her head out of it was impossible. Nothing helped anymore. Not the killing or fighting, not trying to find a substitute, nor all the awful writing. There was no remedy, only sedation.
She dipped the feather into the deep blue ink one more time and let it scratch over the paper again. When the last candle turned all dark, she had filled another page of her note book with a poem, blurred from salty tears and a drawing of a lonely canary, flying through the endless sky, enjoying its freedom and looking down on a monumental mountain range. While Sara was probably at a better place now, Nyssa finally discovered what hell on earth was like.