[PK] Damselfy's End

[ProcaPro 557]

༺⋆⁺₊⋆☘︎`ཐི༏ཋྀ`☘︎⋆⁺₊⋆༻

It was quiet, as Grae liked it, when she wandered out. Just for a moment, of course, just a stop by the stores for materials, a peek at her favorite screaming hole, grabbing a few odd ingredients and herbs. Nothing dangerous. Maybe she'd write a letter to an old friend and see if he wanted to travel further with her, stop by their favorite spots. She'd get her mind off of things, this way, by enveloping herself in nature and ruins and sometimes company, year after year... A screaming snapped her out of her reverie. It was only a moment as she wandered, but something, maybe someone, was shrieking. Grae debated a long while in the silence after. It was about time for her to go home, by then. To rest, to tinker, to bother her family. Then again, going back home would mean thinking about the recent conflicts, and facing them, and the call of sleep always at the back of her mind begging her to lay down all day. Maybe today was a day to check something strange.

At first it was normal. It was winding paths she knew, paths that she retreated to in the empty hours when all slept or stayed at home, stone she'd long forgotten to be afraid of. She couldn't ever remember why she'd avoided wandering and avoided seeing the plant life blooming despite strange locations, to see the rare flizard or underground field, to see life blossom even where it wasn't meant to. It'd drawn her through life to see what was different or strange, to know. She'd bring her wife here, when she returned. Her little sister could see the little blooming ponds and the frogs. She could make it a family occasion. In her thoughts and idle wanderings, it came again, the cries. It screamed and wailed, drowning out the resonance of struck anvils and ringing songs in her head, beckoning her. It sounded strange and alien and, now, desperate. Grae had followed further.

It was her last mistake, in a life full of them. Within time Grae's navigation muddled, an odd dulling to her senses had come as if she was forgetting where she was, as if her surroundings wanted to be forgotten. Something said danger, at the back of her head, though she couldn't remember why. Her memories had always been uneven, shifting like a tide, and here it failed her. She wound left into dead ends, right into collapsed passages. She'd tried to find new places to go, a way out. A memory came to her mind at a new path, a narrow and winding thing. There was no way out, only another wrong turn. The shrieking had gone from intriguing and worrying to overwhelming. Grae began to run, rushing in her armor with her poleaxe in arm, then she wheeled about, remembered her exit and went for it. She faced an old enemy that she didn't remember was one anymore, there, stopping her in her path. The talk was slow, taunting. The fight was quicker and overwhelming. The wait in her cell was weary and painful. She'd hurt quite a few assailants; she'd fought ten or so enemies. There was pride in that, at least.

The blade in Grae's throat was the worst of it. It wasn't quick, or decisive, or merciful. It was slow and torturous, the length slowly and methodically tearing through her. When she'd died it was a quiet relief, her mind flashing with memories, smiles, the meal of stew she'd planned that day, a new prank planned, a fence gate to fix, her wife to greet when she came home. Her sister, her mother, her father. The last thing she'd called for had been her family, and when she called no more, they were the last thing to leave her mind.

But what was meant to be rest wasn’t allowed, to her. The tug came, to rise. To live. As quickly as she entered rest she was torn from it. What would happen after, she had no say.

༺⋆⁺₊⋆☘︎`ཐི༏ཋྀ`☘︎⋆⁺₊⋆༻

[xo31 3979]

A man's second-to-final tie to the mortal plane was shattered. His eyes burned crimson with the wrathful ectoplasm of the surplus of souls within.

 

His glowing, undeadly eyes slowly panned, glaring at a menhir, filled with souls. They cried to him, and begged him, an apparition stirring.

 

"A knight's friend, killed, not.

The sixth seal, the black sun, Grael.

And the three knew hate."
 

"Soon." 

They told the menhir.

[LoxyTheReindeer 356]

Word soon reached Kerina; among the many other letters she had been receiving over the weeks. She could only feel shocked- she had just seen Grae so recently, to hear she was dead...

 

Immediately, Kerina put aside her letters and lit a candle for the elfess upon her desk. Hoping that she would find peace in death, somehow.

[Cheeseycereal 829]

A blonde woman sat in her manor as the news reached her, her niece was dead. A slight frown formed on her face, for she had never developed a strong relationship with her husband’s side of the family. Work had always taken precedence in her life. However, Grae and a few others stood out in her memory. 

 

As she settled down in her office, her maid whispered the unfortunate news to her. The frown deepened, and she turned her gaze toward her worker. 

 

“Prepare a bouquet,” she instructed. 

 

“What flowers should you use?” The Maid queried.

 

“I’m not sure. I’ll ask Mae’ralin. Please get my garden ready. Thank you.”

[Rulf Bypharrk 74]

For Rulf, it was just another day to him, nothing special but a few exchange of greetings and meeting people, friends or families. Although... he did got back from finally meeting his brother... Though they weren't in the best of condition and for Rulf, many things have happened already. The war, the needy unwell and hurt people, the displacement, bandits, and darkspawns. So much has happened, a metaphorical whirlwind almost. 

 

Although... There is one thing about Rulf that only a select few people know and it's this... He can't cry. Not that he won't, but he just can't. Whether it's because of emotional exhaustion or he simply doesn't care? Deep down though despite his faceplate presenting a stoic expression or whether his seemingly aloof half burnt visage's expression... Deep down, his grief is mixed in with what can only be considered fatigue as news of his friend, Grae, has passed. It felt like another thing was missing in his life and another loss he must accept and carry on to preserve what other remaining joy still exists in his... Limited life.

 

"Auf wiedersehen, Grae. It's been fun, meine freundin... Gott what am I supposed to tell Frau Hauptmann..."