Still Here.

[Metamancy 1763]

 

OOC:

Spoiler

This is a purely narrative post and none of the below information should be metagamed. All information in this post is only known to the characters involved. This post aims to offer some insight into the minds of one of my favorite characters ever, so if you enjoy narrative reading, I hope you like it! 

 

“Um - okay. Rest well.”

 

“I will.”

 

The door closed, and Rothwin was gone. 

A sinking feeling began to settle into Avaline’s chest. She wasn’t quite sure why it was there, or what the feeling was. She felt her heart shrinking, though was all too acutely aware of the other person in the room.

 

“Apologies,” 

 

She told Roswyn, at last turning to the other Aldor sibling. 

 

“…It is no worry, Avaline,”

 

Roswyn returned in kind, though a heavy blanket of awkwardness sat in the air. Unsure of what to do, Avaline could only return to the couch and collapse into it. All of a sudden, everything began to unravel. 

 

“…I am very sorry, Roswyn. I do not know what is wrong with me.”

 

“What do you mean? –There is something wrong with you..?”

 

Avaline leaned heavily against her knees, resting her forehead on her palm. She felt weak, though she was no stranger to the feeling of lethargy. 

 

“Did I interrupt something..?”

 

Edith, who had mysteriously appeared, asked cautiously.

 

And then, it all began to spill, like a glass cup of water shattering against the floor. 

 

“I have been so emotional lately. I fear I am losing my composure as a lady. Though the people are the same and the places are the same, I feel I have missed so, so much in my absence.”

 

Something caught in her throat, and she had to clear it several times over. An incessant reminder of those years trapped in the prison that was her room.

 

“…Perhaps I am simply overthinking.”

 

“No, do not worry Edith…”

 

Roswyn quietly dismissed her sister before turning her attention back to Avaline.

 

“…Well, overthinking in what, might I ask?”

 

There was a strange hesitation in Roswyn’s words, as though she knew something Avaline did not. Avaline’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she could not breathe.

 

“I… am not sure. I just have this terrible feeling… as though the world is changing too fast and I was left behind back in the time before I fell ill.”

 

Once the words began to flow, they could not stop. Somewhere in the back of Avaline’s mind, a voice told her to stop, that this was not the time nor place to spill her feelings messily all over the floor, but the floodgates had opened.

 

“Is it silly? To think that people change when on the outside, they appear and act the same?”

 

A gentle silence fell over the room, before Roswyn finally spoke.

 

“Three years, Avaline. It has been three years… things do change in such a period of time. It is not something that you can fault yourself for. You had not a clue you might fall ill so long.”

 

Avaline’s fingers danced between themselves involuntarily, vigorously knitting themselves together.

 

“I am so afraid, all the time, of something terrible happening. When you come that close to death, Roswyn, it is not kind to the mind. When I attended the Imperial wedding today, I felt trapped - so many faces I did not know, so many processions I was not familiar with. It was suffocating. I feel as though I do not know anyone, I do not even know myself. I thought that, when I recovered, everything would return to normality- but now, I do not remember how the world works.”

 

Only when she said it did she realize it was true. She was so, so afraid; so afraid, all the time. That was the sinking feeling, she realized; the feeling that something terrible was to happen. All the faces that she did not know, the unfamiliar society that she returned to. It truly was suffocating.

 

Roswyn exhaled gently.

 

“You will learn once more, and trudge forwards. You have such a life ahead of you now.”

 

“I suppose this is all just a roundabout way to say,”

 

Avaline found herself continuing on, 

 

“That I do not feel I belong anywhere. Oh, and it is so lonely, Roswyn.”

 

It was lonely. It was so, so lonely… 

 

•───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────•

 

“Leonardo,”

 

Avaline called out, her voice laced heavy with pain. 

 

“Yes? Dear sister.”

 

The rough voice of her twin brother called in response. 

 

“Oh… how I've missed you…”

 

Her head pounding in her ears and her head burning with a deathly fever, she collapsed into Leonardo’s arms, unable to support herself on her feet any longer.

 

“You missed me? Why does that seem very unlikely and what's wrong with you?”

 

Leonardo demanded, as blunt as he usually was, blinking dully at Avaline.

 

“Where have you been?” 

 

Avaline forced her eyes upwards to stare into Leonardo’s single eye; their eyes were the same. Avaline had always found that interesting.

 

“…I have been ill, brother. Deathly ill.”

 

“Well, I’ve just been around, let’s say that I moved out of the castle and got a home elsewhere – and what are you sick with and does it spread?”

 

He pulled a bit of his cloak over his mouth and nose. Avaline would have been annoyed by this, perhaps, but she was in too much pain to care. It was the first time she had felt “well” enough, if she could even be considered well, to go outside of the house, and seeing family was a blessing she could only have dreamed of in the months past.

 

“We are poor, Leonardo.”

 

This much was true; or at least, Avaline was. She had been unable to afford a proper doctor, blissfully unaware that the Empire had free healthcare.

 

“I could not afford a doctor, so I could do nothing but read medical self-help texts and rot in my bed. This has gone on for over a year, Leonardo. I have only recently begun to feel well enough to step outside…”

 

“Will I get sick or not if I'm near you, and what plagues you?”

 

Leonardo spoke some more, emotionlessly. Avaline’s heart broke just a little; she thought her brother would care, at least a tiny bit, that his sister was just about dying. He certainly was not acting the part.

 

“I do not know,”

 

Avaline spoke honestly. Her heart crushed by the sheer amount of weariness in his tone, she forced herself to pull away; even though standing on her feet brought a wave of vertigo washing over her, and she wobbled, threatening to fall over.

 

“I could not afford a doctor, Leonardo. No one came to check on me. I could not get diagnosed. It could be cancer and I would not know.”

 

She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She needed family now, more than ever; and here he was, rejecting her entirely.

 

“Find one of those uruk shamans – or don't, they might kill you. Or just keep waiting – it seems you're getting better, from what you say.”

 

“I am so, so tired. I have forced myself out of my bed to feel the outside air.”

 

She shakily spread her arms wide, taking in the outside world for the first time in almost two years.

 

“Oh, but how nice it is…”

 

“Yes, nice, weather is good and all, but there's still a war about,”

 

Leonardo spoke rather bluntly once more.

 

The war? A million thoughts rushed through Avaline’s head, which only made her headache worse. Was Leonardo going to go fight? Was he going to get hurt? However much she hated him, she loved him, too; she could not bear to see Leo fallen at the hands of the baby-eaters.

 

“The war does not concern us. Unless you are going to go out and kill the baby-eaters? Oh, please do not get eaten, Leonardo.”

 

“Not exactly, but something of the sort.”

 

“Please do not get eaten,”
 

Avaline begged of him. With her sickness came a strange vulnerability, and her truths spilled from her maw like water. She could not hold herself up any longer, and so she moved to support herself against a nearby pillar.

 

“It appears I am disturbing you. Go, then; do what you will. I suppose I shall go rot in bed some more.”

 

Leonardo grinned, then; and it was a wonderful sight. Involuntarily, Avaline found herself smiling weakly back.

 

“Come on, you big baby, I want to speak with you anyway. Let’s go to the castle – that should work, unless the sick woman has business in town?”

 

Avaline’s heart soared – at last, recognition.

 

“Oh, okay. . .”

 

He supported her all the way to the Helvets estate; walking to Saint Godwinsburg all on her own had been torture, and the walk back was a little more bearable with her brother’s support.

 

When they finally arrived back home, Avaline’s face was deathly pale, and beads of sweat trickled down her temple. The walk had taken its toll on her.

 

“Oh… I do not feel well…”

 

“Take deep breaths.”

 

Avaline attempted so, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath; though her breath ended up coming out shallow, a reminder of her weak lungs. This brought her into a coughing fit, and it seemed as though she would almost cough up her insides. Her features white, she slumped upon the table.

 

“But when you asked if I plan to run off and kill baby eaters – in fact, it's quite the opposite. I found myself in Urguan, fighting the empire, and insulting the emperors mother,”

 

Leonardo grinned at the fallen Avaline, as though it was the best news in the world.

 

Avaline felt her heart break. Her illness – which she would later learn, upon her recovery, was pneumonia – festered. Memories came back to her; the first time she had returned from boarding school, the times he had made her cry. And now, here he was, telling her that he had left all that behind, just to fight against the Crown. 

 

That rage, that devastation, swiftly turned to concern. What would they do to him if they found him? She quickly sat up, though that brought its own wave of vertigo, and she groaned, collapsing once more. She felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks; and as she cried, her breaths caught in her throat, threatening to suffocate her. It was painful; it was painful.

 

“I ought to turn you in. You cannot simply defeat the Emperor. . . You are going to die, Leonardo. You are fighting for the wrong side.”

 

She steadied her voice as much as possible, though the pain was getting worse and worse.

 

“Well, I came in search of any family, really, so they know I'm not dead – just no longer an Imperial. And you just so happened to be that family, and go ahead turn me in. I’ll be long gone before you find someone who has the authority to come out here and get me, and to be truthful, I do not care if we defeat the emperor or not – I am allying with the right side of this war. If that means my death then so be it – but I am fighting on the right side for myself.”

 

Leonardo’s speech left Avaline, well, speechless. Then, a terrible thought occurred to her; when the authorities he spoke of found out, what would they do to her? Being his family… What would they do to Father? To their siblings? 

 

“They are going to kill us,”

 

Avaline spoke weakly.

 

“They are going to kill Father, they are going to kill Theodora, they are going to kill Eugenie, for being your family. Have you not thought about that? You have quite literally sentenced our entire family to death. Please, Leonardo. It is not too late…”

 

“Let’s be frank – Father was horrible at being a father. I don't give a damn if he dies, and for the rest of you, it's not too late to leave before it's too far. You can escape the evil that is the Empire – and I have faith that the dwarves and orcs are not so brutal as to kill innocents,”

 

Leonardo cut her off, speaking confidently. The pieces of Avaline's already shattered heart were smashed further with a sledgehammer. 

 

“You have killed us, Leonardo. We are all going to die, because of your selfishness.” 

 

She sobbed and sobbed, grief overtaking her. There was, unfortunately, only one option left.

 

“I need to report you. Then, perhaps, they will spare us…” 

 

She rose to her feet, fighting the waves of vertigo and the blur in her vision, and stumbled downstairs. 

 

“For ****’s sake, I knew I should have just disappeared,”

 

Leonardo cursed at her as she stumbled towards the door. This was for Leonardo’s own good, she told herself; if the pressure caused him to turn himself in, then perhaps they would spare him. If he never came back, perhaps he would live.

 

“I must ride for the capital. If you turn yourself in, they may let you off with a whipping…”

 

“Stop, Avaline. You don't need to tell a soul,”

 

Leonardo spoke desperately behind her.

 

“It is my duty, as a lady of the Empire. You may come with me, if you wish. Turn yourself in. Then, you will survive.”

 

The tears were endless, and so was the pain, and so was the grief. Her brother was already dead.

 

“Please, Leonardo.”

 

Leonardo’s gaze turned to steel as Avaline turned to meet him one last time.

 

“Alright, well, let’s be clear here. If you walk out that door, I disappear for good, and I can promise you that not a soul in the empire will see me again.”

 

It was a heavy ultimatum. Avaline had to consider it, if only for a moment, though the answer was clear. 

 

Avaline walked out the door and began to mount her steed, Guinevere. It took her several minutes; she found herself lacking the strength to get on, and she fell several times. At last, she finally found herself sitting upon the saddle; and she collapsed upon the horse’s neck. She gazed down at him from her position, sweating. 

 

“…Know that I love you, Leonardo. And this is for your own good. Know that you may turn yourself in at any time.”

 

The horse began to trot off; it already knew where to go.

 

“…And I suppose this is goodbye.”

 

Leonardo was still, until he was not. He flicked his hood up and began to vanish into the woods of the night.

 

“So be it then, dear sister. If you change your mind, send a bird – specifically an ivory owl.”

 

And with that, her twin brother was gone. Perhaps forever.

 

•───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────•

 

The days passed in a blur. Somewhere along the way, Avaline found herself given an alchemical cure by Her Excellency, the physician Andromeda. She found herself speaking to an official of the Empire, and securing her family’s safety in exchange for Leonardo’s. She found herself fully recovered, she found herself speaking with Rothwin again, she found herself attending an Imperial wedding, she found herself returning to some normalcy of life.

 

And yet, Leonardo…

 

She snapped back to attention, and suddenly, she was sitting in the room with Roswyn again, with the Aldor woman inspecting her curiously. 

 

Oh, what was she saying?

 

“But - but!” 

 

She rectified as swiftly as she could. Now was not the time to be vulnerable.

 

“You are right, most certainly. I am recovered, and I have a life ahead of me, now. There is no use dwelling on the past!”

 

She swiftly rose to her feet, terribly self-conscious all of a sudden.

 

“I shall bother you no longer. Do let me know if you need anything!”

 

Roswyn did not react much to this sudden shift in demeanor, only smiling gently.

 

“Of course, Dear Avaline. Do write, or knock, if you ever need anything… I will be there posthaste. Do let me walk you out, yes?”

 

The next moment, Avaline was standing outside the door, waving Roswyn goodbye.

 

“Sorry for the bother, Roswyn. I do not know what came over me. Have a wonderful day!”

 

“You are no bother, I do promise. You have my word. My offer would not stand as it does if you were,"

 

Roswyn returned, before disappearing back into the Aldor estate.

 

•───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────•

 

The merry smile that Avaline wore dissipated like sugar on the tongue the moment the door closed. She turned, wrapping her arms around herself. She had wanted to look pretty, having worn her new dress, but it was apparently unwise, for the winter wind bit at her now, poking at her skin like needles.

 

It was a long walk of shame back to the estate. She recalled when she had carried out the very same walk alongside Leonardo, with him supporting her.

 

It felt like an eternity ago.

 

•───────────────────•°•❀•°•───────────────────•

 

Avaline returned back to the comfort of her room, if one could call it that. She hated the sight of it; the walls looked like prison bars to her and the pleasant aroma of her scented candles was suffocating. 

 

She fell onto her bed. She had come to associate the scent of the clean sheets with death, and she hated every second of it.

 

She trembled violently; and before she knew it, the pillow began to stain with her tears. 

 

Something terrible was going to happen. She could feel it.

 

But for now, all she could do was let sleep take her.

 

[0mnip0tent 338]

Spoiler

ohhhh my aldor guilt...oh the guilt in my aldor heart...**** my stupid aldor life

 

[KeiaTypeBeat 3277]

Spoiler

53 minutes ago, Metaphobia said:

none of the below information should be metagamed.

Kinda metaphobic of you, innit?

 

Great writing btw 😁

 

[NovumChase 235]

A year prior, Rothwin Aldor, clad in thick fur travelling garb, lounges on a haphazard wooden stool under an eave, the forests of Valwyck sprawling out before him. A small table bedecked with tools and oddities separates him from a similar man on an equally similar seat—a likeness of Rothwin, but wizening, with dimmed, cloudy eyes and hair that, while just as wavy, is a blond-gray fading into white.

 

“And yet, Father, while it would rend my very heart if the illness does claim her,” he murmurs, his elder nodding in listening all the while, “one must… wonder, at the least, what would become of her if she lives. I fear wyrd will be hard in either case.”

Rothswith, now climbing through his sixties, can only scoff in bemusement at the junior Rothwin. “Yes… what a ‘hard wyrd’ for her to live, and for the two of you to be happy.” He barks a laugh. “Do you so swiftly dismiss the gift of life, child?”

“Never,” Rothwin answers patiently, bearing only a fraction of his indignation outwardly. “But she is dead to the world, at present. What will be her fate if she wakes? Years will have stolen the fire from her personal relations, from her knowledge of the world. She was such an eager explorer…”

“Selfish boy—just as your grandfather was.” The tone of the elder Aldor no longer pretends to be paternal, sharpening into an arrow-like acuity. “Where would we be, if I delivered unto your mother the same impatience you would now espouse? I see it—you wish to move on… inflict your fancies elsewhere. But what would it make you?”

 

Rothwin’s jaw tenses—as does the whole of him. He lounges no longer, instead abandoning the chair to depart bitterly into the ramshackle cabin. No answer awaited him there.