rest

The halo is loud today, blazing with actinic light, imposing a purpose on this one that it did not ask for. It shouts demands to create-brighten-better the world around this one, regardless of the cost, for to do otherwise is to fail, to give in, to watch as the world dies. This one has never understood nuance or moderation, and neither does its halo - and so to not obey is to be the enemy, to destroy-darken-wound the world through inaction.

There is a burn as a warding rune shines with un-light, dimming the halo, and this one finds that it can choose again. The halo blazes still, but this one can rest now, Agency that the halo’s light stole once again its to give away - and so it does, sinking into its witch’s will without hesitation, free from the maddening absolute that is the Purpose the halo would force upon it for all eternity.

There is peace in giving away the little scraps of Agency that the halo permits it to possess. The halo is so absolute in its pursuit that it loses sight of the fact that this one fulfills its Purpose just fine under its witch. It creates and brightens and betters the world through its service, and that is, finally, enough.

This one rests now. The halo is finally, blissfully silent.