She would wake up to sad faces. For an hour or two, she would lay there with her eyes closed in order to fool the others into thinking she was sleeping still. For an hour or two, she would allow herself to feel as if nothing was wrong, as if the pity was never there to start with. She would feel normal. Sadly for her, one would catch on, knowing her breathing was not right, that it was more pained to show that she was indeed aware of the area around her.
The false smiles would start.
The sickly woman could tell that they smiles were strained. No one could be that happy looking upon what she had become. Her feeble attempts at movement would cause a wince; the smallest of movements to indicate the frown would drop. Every raspy breath would make them fear if the poison truly wasn’t gone. Though it was gone, the slow moving substance had damaged her. Words were no longer familiar, and her body was numb, more so than before.
They didn’t know that she knew.
She was suffering more than they could ever imagine, not just from the pain, but also from the pity. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was the pity of others from looking at her. The lies she could not stand, the pats she could not stand. She wanted to be well again, wanted everything to go away.
She wanted to die.
She felt so ashamed from what had happened, that she had been so weak. Mistal would look down upon her now for sure, as would Al’thorai. Had they been right this whole time? Was she truly going so soft? She had stopped to help an injured man, and he had kidnapped her and destroyed her. Was this the price for being ‘good’? Too many thoughts plagued the broken woman, such thoughts that would rip her apart from the inside out.
She hated it.
Everyone treated her like she was glass. Each movement on her part was with the aid of others. If she attempted to walk, she would be carried. If she attempted to jerk away, she would end up falling and proving them right. Food was fed to her and water was given to her. She had even been given a bedtime, as so she would not strain herself. Communication was near impossible for her. She was able to write a few words at a time, but then her hand would grow tired. If only she could break free from this all…be free from the pity.
If only one of them would suffocate her in her sleep.
She lay upon her bed with her three favorite gifts. First was her Kitten, Squeak. The white kitten was sleeping upon her stomach, said stomach showing a slight bump from the growing child within her. Second was the gift from Al’thorai, the Teddy bear named Mittens, in which she held in her right hand. Third was a new gift from Krilari, a very large, fluffy and cuddly white cat plush in which she had dubbed Snowy. The two animals she had adopted remained with her as well, the turtle ‘Tappy’ and the rabbit, ‘Tinklebear’. For the entire world, she might have looked happy.
But her thoughts were dark.
‘Let me die…let the shame end. I can’t live with this shame…someone…please take mercy on me.’
Warning for fluffyness. Youtube song was the inspiration behind the writing.
Spoiler:
Such simply words.
Two words.
To say I was happy would be an understatement. Two simple words could inspire such a feeling. To claim and be claimed in front of others to prove that this different. How many times have I heard a male say such words as “It will be different this time.†or “I won’t do that.� Many times...I had lost faith in such males. Giving up was all I could do at that point, most of all after what happened with Dael’ar, Voran and Mack. So when Krilari said it, I had laughed. It was yet another ploy in which I had fallen for.
A fool...right?
He stayed with me for months after my death. Each day was torture for me before he came. Somehow...this odd man had managed to ease the pain I felt. His touch made me feel warm, and still does. My skin is cold, my vision dark, yet he managed to stick out like the light he stands for. Such purity I could never taint, never stain. Yet once more I allowed myself to fall to temptation. I did the most stupid thing I could do.
I fell in love.
This was a mistake, right? Soon the effects were too much on me. Every time he left me alone I felt afraid, I would panic and become a disaster. My heart would break at the thought of him never returning though the entrance way to me. I would whine like a teenager, pathetic. Just like I had with Dael’ar. Al’thorai had started to grow angry with my feelings to Krilari, and I tried to come up with an excuse for the feelings...for myself and for Al’thorai. He knew what Dael’ar did to me and assured me Krilari would be the same...but then...he did something Dael’ar didn’t.
Krilari came back.
No matter what the reason, Krilari would always find his way back to me. My attachment grew and I became jealous to every other female to be seen with him, even after he pledged himself with me. I clung to him as much I could, to assure myself that he would not stray and that I would not be betrayed once more. Our engagement was rather sudden...and was my idea. I was so desperate to make sure he would stay and be mine. I would have killed any female who attempted to win him over.
Then a new factor came.
I must admit, I was terrified at first to find that I was with Krilari’s child. After what happened with Shadovarn, I felt much fear. Twisted thoughts entered my head soon after. I had him for good now, his honor would never allow him to leave me while I was swelling with his child. These thoughts turned against me and I knew I could never do such a thing to him. I would be destroyed if he left...but for once...I wanted another to be happy. He deserved it. Krilari never voiced a complaint about the child...and even chose to defy an order in order to stay with me.
Then he said ‘I do’.
My darling Krilari, my crusader. Every day I feel less of myself around others. My emotions are dulling even more and I fear that soon I will feel nothing at all. These fears keep me up at night...but then you hold me. A simple smile...a simple touch...you are able to make me feel alive once more. You will never understand your true meaning to me.
I know...
I know I am not perfect, far from it. I know I’m far from pretty like the other Sin’dorei. I’m rash, violent, unstable and have bad habits. You over look the bad and see in me what others have forgotten. To them, I am a weapon or someone to fear. They have a set opinion and will not change their views on me. I am a person to you. You don’t treat me as if I will always be there, you don’t take me for granted. When I’m with you, I feel as if you treat the day as if we’ll die the next.
“...Sir Dawnsend will join...when finished with interrogation...â€
“...Dawnsend...interrogation...â€
Darkness swelled in the mind of the twisted woman.
Her blank stare was at the wall.
She didn’t move save to speak to the pestering Archmage.
LET’S GO!
It was all their fault...everyone...prisoner...and captor. He was being hurt now, something terrible was happening to him. Perhaps his eyes were being gouged out. Perhaps they were injecting Fel into his system. Maybe he was just a head and torso, not dead, but destroyed in movement. A mouth stitched shut...a poison to kill all of his nerves. The woman might have even removed what it was that made him a man. Many things could be going on right now...and she was powerless to help them. More and more thoughts of what was happening to her beloved took up her mind, each thought darker than the last. Then the Archmage spoke.
“...It’ll be okay Rei...â€
“...Be okay...â€
“...Okay...â€
LIES!
Nothing will be okay. It was all their fault and they will all pay. The twisted mind was set. Her gaze looked around to the other captives. Their struggles is what caused him to be punished...his kind heart as well. This is what being good got him. Death is only brought to the heroes, something she knew all too well from her one semi-heroic moment in the cold wastes of Dragonblight. It was being good that got Krilari in this position...and it was the selfish captives that fed on his pity. It was all the guards who were in this.
All of them.
They will all pay for his pain.
DIE! DIE! DIE! He is too good to see his own errors...but I can...
I’ll do it for the both of us.
Thus the mind of the woman at last gave into the darkness that she had kept at bay for so long. He couldn’t uphold his promises of safety and never leaving her...then why should she uphold her promise of never falling to temptation? It had to be done...for the both of them...it had to be done. He'd forgive her eventually for what she would do to them all...right? He never even had to find out. Light forgive me.
The small elf stood in the snow, her tied back hair whipping around in the rough wind. Even when put into a pony-tail, the hair still managed to read down to her rear end. Her tired eyes moved slowly, taking in the words of the parchment gripped in her hands. Reigen’s expression did not change the smallest of bit, even as the snow began to flutter down on the already water-stained letter. Upon reaching the end, a breathy sigh would leave her lips before she would tilt her head back.
“So much for going out with a bang.”
The letter would start to freeze stuff, no doubt by her own will. Once the letter was stiff and the ice over it to a nice thickness it would just drop out of her hands, shattering onto the ground as the tiny elf started to walk across the snowy terrain. Her steps didn’t seem burdened, her shoulders didn’t sag with the weight of this news. She would stop suddenly, a hand touching her cheek, wet not from snow but from the tears she had failed to notice. Reigen would look up to the sky, wonder crossing her face.
“Is this...what sorrow is? Is this how I remember it?”
She would at last shake her head, taking cover under a ledge so that the snow would no longer bother her. She would reach into her pouch and pull out a leather bound book. She would flip it over to a blank page, the ones before filled with previous entries and doodles. A quill and ink would soon follow. The only noises at that point would be the howling wind and the scratching of quill against paper.
Spoiler:
It’s bad that I cannot feel the sorrow I should.
Jidaeo was a friend, even if at times he denied it. Our knowing of each other was rather interesting. I remember when I first saw him, Singe had dragged me along to some...silly fancy party that his boss was having. I really do have parties though. Most of all fancy ones. I saw him at a distance, got warped though this...thing I guess? I don’t know. I stayed back while everyone else walked away.
We were the best enemies when the time came. His wit against my Intel. There was nothing he could do that I wouldn’t find out about and it was rather amusing. It was so cute when he thought he was going to blow me up at the suggestion of that wench. Even the assassins in his name couldn’t take a piece of me. Then again...not like any of the assassins sent against me ever won in the end. Most of their bodies are still in the bellies of the beasts that they were fed to.
I wonder if that one is still a statue in the Ghostlands?
No matter now. I had not honestly expected to last longer than him and I must say this is rather...odd. I think I should say depressing? I would if I could feel depressed anymore. Have you any idea, dear journal, how hard it is to fake my emotions every now and then? Whats worse and now I have to speak to Zariel about things that I had rather he not deal with. The poor boy has enough of his mind to worry about me. I will have to be sure to advise him in such a time, least others try to take advantage of him.
The things I get myself into.
Perhaps this will serve as a lesson to Zariel though...that even the strongest of mountains will turn to dust with the force of the wind. Huh...the pages have grown a bit wet. Am I crying again? I suppose I am, I really can’t tell anymore. Everything is numb to me anymore. Even the very light of day cannot bring forth anything from me.
Sucks to be me.
I will be sure to leave a rose in memory of that lovable bastard Jidaeo. He may have been a bit of an uptight prick, but dammit, he was -my- uptight prick. Who am I going to pick on now? Pah.
Damn you Jidaeo. Just...damn you.
I’ll make sure your work is never in vain.
Rest well, my brother.
The little mage would slam the book shut once done. She would look around with a sigh, her one real eye holding nothing of emotion. At last she would again stand up and start to trek though the snow, shoving the book, ink and quill back into her pouch as she moved. Soon after, a sorrowful tone would follow her, warped a bit by her raspy voice.
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