The Hardest Goodbyes, Are The Ones Never Spoken.

[TheIchorDruid 1986]

 

 

 

 

 

 

The news struck the woman like a bullet to her chest, a hand clutched tightly at her torso as she stared wide eyed at the temporary stone in the Duchy of Mystra, for once in a long time Quillian felt truly struck - the agony she currently felt was far worse than any wound that had ever been inflicted upon her. A bitter wind floated in the stale air, Archbishop Jack had finished uttering the dismissal of Prince Demetrios’ funeral.. But Quillian was not ready to say her own; it felt surreal that her oldest friend had been taken by the hands of the Lucienist dogs.

 

Soon her plated knees met with the grass, moulding beneath the sudden pressure that the earth had become accompanied with. The tears began to fall, like sail boats lost upon a still ocean, rolling down Quillian’s paled cheeks; the colour completely drained, from the sorrow that had consumed her. The woman lowered her head, strands of brunette curls escaping from the confines of the ribbon that kept them tamed back beneath her armour, framing her face as she sobbed quietly to herself. A strange blend of emotions swirled, but the one she could decipher was loneliness, Demetrios had always been a support in her troubles, the one to extinguish the flames of suffering… but now that was taken away - by a simple blade, a meaningless death.

 

“D-Demetrios.. You’re a fool..” The woman whimpered behind a shattered tone, bawled gauntlets tightened at her knelt sides, so tight that the knuckles began to whiten, leaving a rather numb throb uttering through her frame.

 

Of course Quillian knew there was going to be no response from a cold, marred stone - she didn’t really know what she was doing, perhaps finding something, maybe a soft chirp of birds to find comfort in, but there was nothing but a cold silence, lingering like a veil upon the atmosphere.

 

She lifted a hand from her sides, grazing it over the chipped stone that had his name engraved upon it, her digits trembled as they stalled across the engraving. A choked breath uttered from her parted lips, Quillian’s vision becoming blurred; attempting to tame the violent tears that had stirred the once calmed seas.

 

“I-I’m sorry.. That I was nae’ here with you one last time.. Y-You were always too heroic.. But you did nae’ die without purpose.. You died protecting your family.. and people.” She bit harshly upon her lip as she spoke, the pang in her chest growing ever stronger, her head feeling ever heavy - like there was an unbearing weight she had to hold it, simply causing her to droop.

 

Quillian couldn’t help but allow herself to become subject of the memories she shared with Demetrios, the first time she met him.. A mere youngling, vulnerable and bloodied upon a gravelled path, with Houzi gaining closer upon him; he barely able to defend the large swarm due to his weakened state. Together they fought side by side, defending themselves from the torment of the ape men.

 

Or when he knighted her, after years of service to the Santegian people - a sword gracing her shoulders and the woman rose as Dame The Devoted. One of the memories she swore to cherish, marvelling in the look of pride that emitted from his emerald orbs.

 

But the one memory that she would forever preserve from the heavy judgement of those whom surrounded them, was their confession to one another - the young love the pair had grown over the years of friendship, a light the pair of them knew would always bind them despite the different lives they would soon come to lead. In which from that love blossomed two precious lives.. Rion and Elias.

 

After moments of hopeless thinking and reminiscing Quillian brought out the rather creased letter that was addressed to her, written by Demetrios… One fragment drawing her focus, one paragraph that hurt to read, yet she found herself reading it over and over.

 

“ If I had any regrets, it would be not being able to hold you one last time, like we did back when I was a young man and you a young warrior. Back when we fought basilisks, houzi and oreners. Back, when we knew each other and how they felt.

 

I love you Quillian Serene “

 

Quillian brought the note closer to her chest, drawing a rather shape inhale but a sense of tranquility was brought upon the woman. When the arms of her sons wrapped around their mother’s frame, cradling her like she once did as babes, though they kept a rather stoic expression, determined to remain strong for their mournful mother.

 

Resting her chin upon their shoulders, her blue and white orb flickered to the skies above them, uttering one last pained sentence.

 

“Goodbye my prince..”

[Chorale__ 2147]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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