#sylvarirp

[spirale-swallow]

45$ commission for Katarail ! This was fun, even the attempt of painting an armour…!

[verruh]

You are my Knight.

At first there had been people, Coutlings searching for her. She had pressed herself into the foliage, hidden away from those that no doubt wished to take her back. Back to him, her Dark Dream. Sometimes, at the start, she had enough thought she'd heard him call out to her. Roaring her name in the tick and confusing greenery of the inlet. But she had closed her mind and ears to him. Hiding herself by forcing her tumbling feelings into Asphodel. The blade had accepted the tribute as easily as it once accepted the sunlight. But now it could no longer take any more of her dark energy. Be it nightmare or other.  Then she had wandered. Moving as if in a dream, reliving the horror of what she had done. Eventually, she had climbed the cliffs, only to collapse, tucked away among the rich shrubbery.  She had dreamt Nightmares again, confusing things with spider webs where her body moved on it's own, like a puppet. In the Nightmare she had tried to gnaw away her hands, to free herself, but then someone had lit a fire under her, and she had burnt, screaming for her Dark Dream. And he had answered her. Yes, he had answered her. " Taint. You are nothing but taint." Awake again, and she no longer knew how long she had been there. The days or hours felt like years and this was too familiar. How many times had she done this now? Retreated into the inner sanctums of herself, trying desperately to survive while the words repeated themselves over and over. Her Dark Dreams voice, killing her. " Perhaps you were mine, once... Taint. Perheps you were mine once. You are not mine. Taint. I see only taint.  " She hummed, quietly to herself. Trying to drown out the voice in her mind. While she clung to Asphodel. The thorns of the Dream-thistle digging into her palms and armour, allowing for small proof that she was still alive. She could still feel something. Now, the blade was her only comfort. A reminder of all that she had done. Proof that she had indeed stood up to her Dark Dream, she hadn't dreamt that. It had happened. She had acted beyond the call of her nightmare. She had acted, for herself. And the truth of this action was somehow engulfed by the disgust in her Dark Dreams voice. The disappointment in his eyes. The hurt. She had chosen to live, and he hated her for it. Train. She was so deep in her self loathing that she didn't notice the strained grunts, the rustling of the foliage and the strangely familiar presence. It was only when Arrenduin spoke that she realised that she was no longer alone. "Verruh, are you in here?" She stiffens, holding her breath. But surely enough, it's already too late to try to hide now. "You know, I can recognize your voice. It'd be best if you would've just answered me. " She ignores him. Had he been calling for her? She hadn't heard, or if she had she couldn't remember. And why, curse the pale tree was it him that found her? "I know what happened. " He goes on." Why did you do it?" She can't answer him, but his question stir up the memory in her mind and she curls up slightly tighter around the blade. Yes, her sword, focus on the sword, it was her only reminder that she had been selfish. All her regrets boiled down to this sword. " You're going to have to talk. I won't be able to help you." " Why are you here" She tries to ask him, but she can't hear herself, and apparently nor can he, as he places his palms against his knees and leans forwards slightly, listening intently. " I can't hear you." She sighs and steps closer, looking down at her. "You're not acting like a Knight. Verruh holds her breath, perhaps, if she pretends she isn't there he will go away. Forget about her. Allow her to drown in her own mind until she is too weak to fight the decay. To weak to get up, to continue living. And she can just fade away. A sudden pain tears through her, shredding her thoughts, as Arrenduin grabs onto her hair, dragging her up to her feet using brute strength and forces her to look at him. She fixes her gaze on the white Sylvari. Suddenly aware of how strong he actually was, and how easily he could just snap her neck. Worst of all, his eyes were blue, pale, but blue all the same. They glared at her. " If you do not act like a Knight, why should I act like a squire? Are you really there, Verruh?" Was she? Was she here? Was she anything at all beyond the Taint. The taint her Dark Dream had been so disgusted of. She answers the best she can. A mere whisper, but he seem to hear her as he repeats the word back to her. " Taint? What is taint, Verruh?" She wished he'd stop using her name. But most of all she wished he'd stop saying that word. Out loud, it sounded worse. So much worse. He tightens his grip on her hair, twisting it, tilting her head backwards as he drags her closer. She can't help but to clutch Asphodel closer to herself. What if he tries to take it from her? " Why did you attack Noctaemis?" "He", Verruh can feel fresh tears staining her cheeks. How foolish of her to think she had shed the last one long ago. " He said I am not his." "Why would he say that?" " He claim I.. I am tainted. " "What does that mean?" What did it mean? The question is enough to offset the delicate balance she had created within herself. She sobs, feeling her legs give in under her, so that the strain is worse on her willow like hair. What did it mean? It mean that she had lost him. She had lost her centre of the world. The only thing that meant anything. The only source of sanity she had. The nightmare suddenly welled up in her. pushing forward, enveloping them both in a sickening feeling, like the taste of vomit in the back of the throat. " It means that he.. He.. Can not stand to look at me. " Yes that was the truth, she had said it out loud. " I am tainted by his enemies." " So much of a Dark Dream, he was..." "Is" She can't help but correct Arrenduin. Her Dark Dream might have cast her aside but she had not done the same to him. The word seem to anger him though, and he doesn't even bother to hide the scorn in his voice. Or is it disbelief? "He has discarded you, Verruh. Or do you still hold on to the thought that he's going to let you stay by his side. After all he spoke of this 'taint' that you seem to have?" He lowers his voice as Verruh has no answer to give but her own sob. He was right, wasn't he?" Stop crying, You look pathetic." "You weren't suppose to see. " It's true, he was never suppose to come here. Never meant to look for her. Why was he here. Why -him-. " But I did. " His voice comes cold now, a threat. " And unless you pull yourself together, Noctaemis won't be the only one that casts you aside. " The sudden panic that comes with the threat catches her of guard. Why? Was she afraid to be cast away by Arrenduin as well? Did he matter? She shifts her grip on her sword, pressing more thorns into her palms. Pushing the nightmare down, stuffing it away. It's the best she can do for him now. Even as she feels the streams of tears flow from her eyes. " What are you going to do now?" He asks, apparently content with her efforts. "I don't know." " You don't know? You're just going to sit here, hidden and mope until you die?" " I don't know!" She raises her voice, as he hits home. Yes, that was exactly what she had hoped to do. "And what am I suppose to do?" What is he suppose to do? What does that have to do with anything. How dare he think about himself in this situation! The anger of it is enough for her to glare at him. He looks somewhat concerned and angry. Though she knew now that his concern was only for himself. " You can start by letting me go." To her surprise Arrenduin actually does what he's told. Letting her hair fall in shambles back down over her neck before he steps back. Sadly the grip on her had been all that kept her upright and without his support Verruh slumps back down to the mossy ground. She glares up at him, as that annoying question nudges her again. Why him? Why not someone she could easily have turned away. Why did it have to be one of the few in her court that she actually respected. The question is so compelling this time, that she hears herself say it out loud. "Why are you here?" " Because you are my Knight." "Don't give me that, you are not even a Courtier." "But I am bound to you by duty. You made it that way." Something had stirred in her when he'd called her a knight. A pride maybe. But it sank back again, as quickly as it had come. Yes, of course. Duty. That's why he was here, ever predictable, her Arrenduin. But why was it him? Out of all her Court, why him. It was unfair. Everything was unfair. Verruh speaks, realising it was too quiet for Arrenduin to catch and repeats herself again. " Why you? Why did you come..." This would have been so much easier if it had been someone else. Anyone else. " Did you think it would be your 'Dark Dram' that found you? Having some wishful thoughts that he'd come and sweep you up in his arms?" No, she had never though that. Nor had she hoped it. She had tried to kill him, she knew that deep down. She had gone for a killing blow and the only thing that had saved her Dark Dream was his Aegis. No, she had never dared to believe he would forgive her so easily. That he would see beyond the taint. She shakes her head and tears her eyes away from her squire. If only it had been someone else. But it was Arrenduin. And she was happy to see him. That scared her for reasons she couldn't yet explain. "Look at me" He sounds angry, annoyed. Why did he insist on her looking at him? " I don't want to see you." She tries to muster some defiance, but lifts her gaze none the less. Only to see the cold man lash out towards her, his hand closes around her shoulders and suddenly she's airborne. She lands heavily on her side, her armour taking most of the impact as she skids across the slippery moss. Scrambling to regain her footing, finding her feet, she  cradles  the sword in both her hands protectively, making sure it's undamaged. But Arrenduin draws her attention back to him as she speaks. Stepping out of the shrubbery towards her. " If you are not going to be the Knight to control me. Then you may as well give me your Knighthood and return to the Den as a squire." Return as a squire? Was he insane. She narrows her eyes and straightens up, changing the grip on her Asphodel. Verruh speaks slowly, and clearly, making sure that Arrenduin hears each word without fault. " Fuck off" And to her annoyance the stupid blue Wardling answers with a grin. Had she ever even seen that before on him? The rare sight is enough to make her grind her teeth. "That's funny, because those are the exact same words I told Micia before I gutted her." " I do not know who that is but I doubt it matters. " Was he mocking her?"A moment of weakness and you believe you can. What, beat me?" " Weakness?" He sounds amused. " You are broken. And refuse to get a grip of yourself. Why should I doubt my capability in beating you?" She can't help but to laugh, this was just so idiotic. So silly. With a smile she lifts her arms wide, mimicking the taunt her Dark Dream had given her during their last encounter. Was her squire really so blind? " Because I was always broken, you fool! You think I am unaware of just how pathetic I am? Do you you think for an instance I forgot my actual place in this disgusting world?" " If you have always been broken, " He sounded somewhat puzzled." why would you not piece yourself back together?" Why? Why did he ask such questions. Always cutting right to the core without caring what was in the way. She lowered her arms again, suddenly tired. The amusement gone as quick as it had come and, somehow, it left her drained. "Where does one even start?" " With realising who one is. "  Arrendyin answers, in a matter of fact tone. That was daft. She knew who she was, that was the problem. "I know all too well who I am. " " Do you really? Then tell me." "I am Verruh" She answers, but he keeps looking at her with some expectation in his eyes. She wished he wouldn't look at her that way. He wasn't even a courtier, not truly one of hers, but he was looking at her now like she had some sort of answer. How was she suppose to explain to him who she was? Who was he then? A Dreamling, no a Wardling, who had risked his freedom for a change to duel and dance with her over and over. A man driven by a need to tear, to butcher, to destroy. Who better to play with than her? She was nearly immortal. Arrenduin didn't need to hold back with her, and she would not hold back for him. Whoever Micia had been had not been a match for hos blade. But had he not nearly gutted her the first time their blades had met? And she had continued, thanks to her song. It had been thrilling, almost perfect how they had fought, until their blades had met in unison, until they had danced, matching each other movements, each trying to be the one that lead the steps.. She knew who he was. She could see him cle- Verruh forces the thought away and asks in an attempt to flee the uncomfortable silence. "And who are you then?" "The one that gets things done. " Of course he would have an answer ready to give her. Why was she even surprised? No, she saw now what he wanted to hear from her. "Very well then, I am the one that keeps the rest alive." " Are you keeping yourself alive?" " What does it matter? Death is hardly the worst that can happen..." Who cared if she lived? If her Dark Dream no longer wanted her. " this  is the worst! I have died several times already." It was true, how many times had she been revived, remade? Yet he persisted. "And what is -this-? Attacking Noctaemis? Be abandoned by him?" " The latter" The words alone make her flinch, but she keeps herself silent to Arrenduin, as her emotions seemed to disgust him so much. "So how are you going to heal that?" "Are you not listening?" She feels a rush of anger return, giving her strength. "I do not know! If the sight of me irks you so much then leave!" He pauses, but continues in his icy manner. " Is that really what you want?" No, it wasn't. She had never been so afraid to be left alone before. Would she go back to that cocoon? She had just been angry, uncomfortable. Surely he could see that? She sighs and changes the subject. " What have you heard?" She listens in confusion as he tells her about how the Whiteling had told him that Teyrnel might be joining the court. And how he might be Noctaemis former Dearheart. With everything that had happened she had completely forgotten. " Is that not what you wanted to know, by your question?" " I wanted to know what you have been told of what happened." " You had a fight with Noctaemis. That is all." That was all? He had come searching for her over a simple fight? Surely there was more " I assumed someone told you, or you would not be here. You know what I did to my Dark Dream." "And that is why I should've been there." Arrenduin states. So sure in himself that he would have made a difference. Why did he keep doing this? He always threw himself against the cliffs, like and angry wave, expecting the world to change for him. The cliffs to erode away by his sheer intensity. "You were sent away for your own safety. Besides, what would have changed? He would have only had yet another reason to see me as a traitor.  Something to throw in my face, yes? He thinks I should have chosen death. " "So why didn't you?" She can't tell if he was being cruel or simply felt curious. She answered anyway, feeling she might as well explain to him that she is not without a fight. "Because an alternative was offered to me and I took it. I chose to live, yes? Because my Dark Dream was still alive and he had not left me." "And you still hold on to that thought that he has not abandoned you?" The words crash through her, causing her to recoil away from him. It hurt. The answer was no, and she knew it. But to admit it to him was too much, too much to even admit it to herself. Her Dark Dream had abandoned her. Because of taint. But she was not about to let him throw her away. No. Her Dark Dream might not want her any more, but she still wanted him. " He will have no choice in the matter." " That's a brave statement. If you are so confident, why are you out here?" Arrenduin asks her. He seemed willing to at least try to understand her. Though she wondered if he was aware of it. Possibly he was just that type of person, forcing her to think things through so that he could follow at a safer pace. "Because I am mourning my own death. " "And when you die? When you are finally dead, what will you do? Begin again?" Ah, he was listening, and he was understanding. Once again Arrenduin reminds her that he is not just a brute. There's mind in there, and it was sharp. But she had no real answer. What could she say? What could she focus on? " I am responsible for the lives I've saved, am I not? " And you thought it was funny when I said that I would protect hose I could..."He looks amused briefly, nothing real to hold on to. No true expression to store away in her memory. " It is, because someone like you will ask for nothing in return." "Because there is rarely anything I would like back." He defends. "Meanwhile I like the favour returned." "And how many owe you back for being saved?" How many? Damn him. She didn't know. Even when she tried to think about it it was too great a number. How many had lived because of her? No. She wills herself to focus. Tossing the question away. " Regardless. This exchange of life and death lead me to the Gearmaster, yes?" " I'm listening." "My Dark Dream left me behind once. I thought it was by choice. " She tries to explain it as it if had happened to someone else, knowing this was the core of her current state, and Arrenduin needed to hear it if he was to be of any use at all." I died that day, left in the tender care of the Wardlings. Pepper did -so- care for me. They left me for dead, though the Gearmaster came to me, untied me and revived me. He claimed my Dark Dream had not left willingly, that he was alive, waiting for me. " She takes a moment, finding it hard to admit to what she had only told her Dark Dream a few days ago. Her eyes flicker over the former Wardling, noting his easy stance, his broad strong shoulders. The way he looked at her with shallow interest at best. Yet, she could tell he was listening. Probably noting it down somewhere in the back of his head. "I only had to read the truth in his mind, and I did, as he did the same to me. This is the taint my Dark Dream cast me aside for." " And that is why you are out here?" " Because I chose to live, yes." " Do you think this, " He pauses, searching for the words. "taint is going to go away?" " I am not tainted!" The outburst surprised her. But it was true. Her Dark Dream was wrong. She knew that, deep down she knew that.Yet she shakes her head as Arrenduin exclaims "So go back to the Den!" She must seem so silly to him. "No?" "I can not" "I do not understand." Well that was true, he didn't, and probably never would. But she tries to explain it non the less. "Did you just walk back into the pathetic Glade when you were cast aside?" " I was terminated of service." He defends yet again, trying to make it seem like there's a notable difference. " It's different. You are still a Knight. You still retain your position amongst your Court:" " What does it matter to you? You have roused me from my cocoon, is that not enough?" Yes, she was still a Knight, but her Dark Dream was a Retinue. Verruh can't help but to feel somewhat suspicious. What, if anything, was he trying to cut away to this time? "If you are not a Knight any more, then I am no longer your squire. That is why it matters to me. But least it seems I got through to you. Do as you like. It does not matter to me." Of course. how had she been so stupid. It was suddenly crystal clear why he had sought her out. He had hoped, that with her Baron anger Noctaemis had taken her Knighthood. That he was free, free on any responsibility that came with being her squire. Arrenduin had come to her for this reason, and this reason alone. Why had she been happy to see him? She should have known better. No one really cared about her except her Dark Dream. And now, not even him. " I am a Knight, you are not free yet." " Then I expect to find you in the Den tomorrow. If you are still out here hiding you ought to prepare to fight for your life. " It was laughable. He was threatening her life to force her to risk her life.  It was funny, really, but she didn't laugh. "I will not go back there at this time. I am not -suicidal-." As she said it, she knew it was true. Even now, despite what she had tried to do. She didn't want to die. She had chosen life once, and she would do it again. Right? Yes, she had to at least tell herself that. Only this time, it had been Arrenduin who revived her. Who had offered her a chance. And she would take it. She mused the thoughts as she watched him shrug, deciding silently to herself to keep him close. " Perhaps those favours that they owe you will come in handy." "Perhaps, or there is a reason why -you- are the only one searching for me, yes? There are no friends in the Court, only enemies with smiles." "Then I hope for your sake that you fight with all your might." He scoffs it off, looking proud and confident as always. How foolish he seemed now. Did he really think that she would just roll over? She had beaten him once, she could do it again. She lifts her hand and points Asphodel at him. The iridescent blade awakens as her wish to hurt him grows stronger. She fixes her eyes on his, meeting his gaze. Somewhere she knew, that in her state he might win. She might hesitate, if only for half a heartbeat. And it would be over. But she had to hide her self-doubt behind anger. "Do not test me Arrenduin! I did not hesitate to cut down my own Dark Dream. What makes you think you will be any different?" "Because I am not him. I do not feel what he feels. I do not think what he thinks. I can go beyond that of which he can. You speak of testing? No, it is you who should not test me, Verruh." "And that is the exact same reason why you should not test me. You are not my Dark Dream. " She really wished he'd stop using her name like that. But it was true. He was not her Dark Dream. He was no more important to her than she was to him. Wouldn't it be funny, if they killed each other here. Yes, she co- He had turned away, walking towards the edge of the cliff as the strange contraption on his back starts whirring. He speaks in a uninterested, if warning tone. " You know what will come tomorrow. " She watches with a strange sinking feeling in her chest as he starts to take the last step off the edge. And oddly, she reaches out with her maimed right hand, the one he had severed, to try to stop him. He's going to leave, and she'll be alone again! The nightmare and desperation would creep back into her mind, it would crush her. She tries to call out to him but gilds her voice useless .She just can't do it. She can't ask him to stay. How could she? He already found her too pathetic to even look at. Arrenduins leaves, the jet pack on his back serves only to soften the fall and impact as he lands on the ground below. He doesn't even glance back after her as she whispers the words she can't say loud enough for him to hear. To judge her. The words that may have turned him back. Perhaps, he would have shown her pity. And perhaps that would have been so much worse. "Don't leave me alone."            

[thelittlegreenfox]

LOTS OF ART of people that have drawn Isendil. Credit for all these goes to DustyBunnies and Haychen.

[thelittlegreenfox]

Aftermath

"Your goal is to be more brave. Being brave does not mean throwing yourself into combat, or readily giving up your life. You need to be brave emotionally and logically. You can be brave enough to trust in others, brave enough to allow yourself to open back up to friends and family." Isendil was anxious most days since the rescue. He wanted his friends and loved ones to be able to give him a reassuring touch on the shoulder, a hug, or for Santii to fuss over his fronds like she always did. But every time he was touched, he couldn't help but think of Apoleia's slimy, blood-covered hands all over him; or his greasy, sick-feeling empathy trying to latch onto his own. But Santii was right. The entire reason he didn't call out to Llachlan, Vilathara, and Searil when he was grabbed by Apoleia was because he was scared. Not scared for himself...but scared for them. He didn't want the three of them to suffer the same fate he did. Isendil sat up in his cot in the infirmary. Mnostovo was constantly moving back and forth from the back room and the worktable in the center of the infirmary; likely researching everything he can on how to get Vervis back. Santii had moved from her work cot to come sit by Isendil as she worked, her empathy constantly reaching out to his in gentle affirmation. He was anxious. Scared that it would all happen again. And she knew it. He leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling silently as the two worked. His head tilted side to side as he had his own cathartic inner monologue. I need to believe in them more. They finished my greatest and most difficult task without losin' a single person...and they did it without my help. I have to have faith in 'em like I did then. His mind went back to that moment in the dungeon. His lungs burned, the incisions itched and stung, and he hadn't slept in days. His empathy was in complete and utter agony, afraid that he wouldn't be able to save the ones he loved from Apoleia and his machinations...until he was hit by a moment of absolute clarity. His family wouldn't give up. They weren't stupid. They would get him out of here, and they would stop Apoleia - with or without him. "I still remember completing my Hunt. The pain and anguish beforehand, only to find relief as if a great weight has been lifted from you." Santii was right. Isendil glanced over to her from his cot, watching her work diligently. Flipping through papers, signing various forms. After a few moments she glanced up at him briefly, giving that sweet and motherly smile that had become all-too-known throughout the Source. Isendil smiled in turn at the woman he considered his mother. She looked back to her work, and he looked back to the ceiling. Time to be more brave.

[thelittlegreenfox]

The Completion.

Drip. Isendil's arms were suspended over his head as he hung from shackles chained to the stone wall. His head hung low, and his untied fronds blocked most of his already blurred vision. His head lolled from side to side in exhausted defiance, still fighting to get free, albeit weakly. Drip. Apoleia hadn't beat him, tortured him, or mangled him like most would. Isendil was actually fairly clean and well-kept...save for four surgically precise cuts along his chest. They were perfectly symmetrical; one running from just under his armpit to his collarbone, and a twin to match on the left side. Two more were lower, just between his ribs. Apoleia came every day to ensure that these wounds remained open. Drip. Sap had been oozing from him for days. Apoleia had not only kept the wounds open, but he had been collecting the sap. Isendil's chains rattled as his weight shifted lazily. His mind had been blank for the most part, save for constantly thinking about everyone back home, and the specifics of his Hunt. A rush of lucidity came over him, as he began to relive the dream of when he was first called... Drip. He was alone in a clearing standing against a massive being of shadow. It loomed over him ominously, beginning to spawn smaller shadow beasts around the clearing. One at a time, Isendil fought them...and for each one he defeated, a being of light arose and joined him in the fight until only the behemoth was left. As he faced it, it began to grow and expand, and Isendil positioned himself between it and his new allies...and as it reached him-- Normally he woke up by now. The dream had played in his head while he slept over and over, why was it only now finishing? The beings of light swarmed around the behemoth, pushing Isendil back just before the shadows could swallow him. With a roaring groan of defiance and disbelief, the shadow was gone. Isendil fell to his knees and hung his head...before his vision revealed him back in the dungeon. Drip. He managed a smile. Even in these cold, dark, underground halls, he suddenly felt warm. Relieved. "So Apoleia wasn't the point. Relying on everyone was...leanin' on 'em." He lifted his head and closed his eyes with that smile as if absorbing warm sunlight for the first time in months. There was no sun. Merely blackness, and the sound of-- Drip. Figures came into his sight. Santii, Trisbaine, Llachlan, Seicemar, Vilathara, Aoibheann. Phantoms that weren't actually there. Oaken, Keiranon, Skoryy, Searil, Astairre, Ruiel. They all turned to face him. Mnostovo, Phi, Julyan, Ruinali, Vailynt, Aindheal. And they smiled lovingly. Isendil lidded his eyes, tears welling up. "Thank you all. For lovin' me." His body went limp, and he let go of his chains; dangling there lifelessly. The last thing he saw was their smiles before his world went black. His Hunt was over. Isendil stopped fighting. Drip.

[thelittlegreenfox]

Santii training Isendil in Mount Maelstrom, the morning before he got shot.

[thelittlegreenfox]

`When Issy gets protective and interrogative. EDIT: I have no idea why the first screenshot got rid of all of Simuel's emotes. Sad day. :(

[thelittlegreenfox]

THE NIGHTMARE. (AU)

He had always believed they returned to the Dream once they died.

That it was a like the Mists...only different. That they got to be with their loved ones after they'd led a full life.

And he was just told by those he loved and respected that he was wrong.

Isendil stood in the Brisban graveyard, staring at the headstone of the two children he'd recently dug up. He had told himself it was to save them...to allow them to be with their loved ones. He shouldn't have done it. If he can't be with those he loves when he passes, why should they? Tears began spilling down his face as he clenched his fists and tensed his body.

Don't you dare cry...

He heard the sound of light footsteps behind him. Perhaps it was just the gravekeeper...until a sweet, familiar voice meekly asked him:

"D-Do you want a hug...?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer...because the truth was that no, he didn't. But he didn't want to crush her spirit. His silence was met with silence, as she wrapped her arms around him and prodded at his empathy with her own in an attempt to soothe him.

"I feel...hate, Ruiel. I feel the Nightmare."

"Y-You feel-...no. You can't hate forever. Not you, Isendil."

He stared at her for a long moment. What was the point in loving others? If they all disappeared and ceased to exist, not even capable of enjoying the memories they contribute to the Dream...why even try? Why continue to love this fragile flower before him?

What did Mother ever do for him...?

"You're wrong, Ruiel," he spat, "Hate is all there is. Mother is a liar...and the Dream makes promises it doesn't keep."

He grabbed her by the throat and threw her to the ground. Ruiel stifled a scream, staring up at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. He couldn't have just done that...not her Isendil. She scrambled to her feet to try and hug him again...but he was gone in the blink of an eye. Shadows gathered around her as she trembled in fear, and a voice whispered;

"Hate is all I know. So fuck the Dream. Fuck Mother."

"Fuck the Inflorescence. And fuck you."

The point of a dagger was suddenly protruding from her chest. She began to gasp for air. It disappeared just as quickly as it had come as she collapsed onto the ground.

His blade dripped with her sap as he stormed off down the hill of the graveyard, and as she reached out for him desperately, the world went dark...

[thelittlegreenfox]

THE TEMPTATION.

[thelittlegreenfox]

"It's not fair..."

[thelittlegreenfox]

THE GOODBYE, PART 2.

[thelittlegreenfox]

THE GOODBYE, PART 1.

[thelittlegreenfox]

DEPARTURE.

Only a few more days.

Isendil struggled to put on his coat with his sore rib. The battle with the Arbor forces was probably the closest to open war he had been. It reminded him of his upcoming venture to Harathi...then his experience with war would be real. Even so, he was happy with his performance...as were the others, seemingly. The huge orange Knight that gave him this broken rib got paid back in spades.

I'd rather have a broken rib than a dagger in my skull.

He looked to the bed where Astairre lay, still sleeping, and smiled. His boot steps quiet and heavy, he leaned down to plant a soft, quick kiss on her lips. He loved her, even if his insecurities and doubts prevented him from giving her everything. He glanced to the door and frowned.

There's so much that I love out there, too. And I'm not the only thing she loves...I can't be.

He looked back to her. Only a few more days.

He walked through the door with some sense of finality. His days were numbered, he knew, and he was going to make the best of them.

[thelittlegreenfox]

A commission of my character, Isendil, that a friend and guildmate did. It's pretty rad.