Faith. [Narrative Post]

[Spellblades 749]

“Why?”

 

“Why!?”

 

“WHY DID YOU RUN!?”

 

A constant reminder stabbed into his brain every single day, allies turned enemies, and a Scar is all he had to show for it. Friends and family keep telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have done anything more than he did. But the Scar remained, as did a singular grave.

Vesryn had been too optimistic; he saw his family start to gray while he remained the same as fear set in.

 

 

“Boys, I don’t have much time left.”

A coin was flipped across the room, landing in the Maehr’s palm. Heads.

It was rusted and probably older than him, but it was a keepsake, probably one that would be better left forgotten, but one all the same. Vesryn turned to a familiar face next to him, thinking they both knew what he meant.

 

 

Vesryn sat under a full moon, blade sat beside him as he was deep in prayer, or what he wished he was doing. He didn’t have the faith left in him to keep up his devotion.

 

“Helun-Velulaeya hon laht.”

He muttered, grabbing the blade on his right, attaching it to his hip as he stood. He was Oathed into a Diraar. This should be a time for celebration, but only emptiness followed as he looked at the blade gifted to him. “Dragon’s Claw.” He was handed yet another weapon. Memories began to manifest across the reflection of the onyx blade, ones he wished would leave him.

 

“What are you saying, sign this or.. What?” Aedric questioned

 

“We’re having your people moved to the Capital, this is better for all of us.”

 

“No.”

 

Chaos erupted throughout the meeting room as two armed men closed in on Vesryn, raising a dagger as the Maehr instinctively tried to connect in time. Pain shot through his nerves as a warm feeling ran down his arm. Anger rising in his voice as he became reckless, using any ounce of strength to fight back, forsaking his honor in exchange for survival, a familiar voice called to his left, a Knight of ginger hair. Someone he was supposed to trust. “Stand down, Vesryn.” He commanded as if he were blind to the situation at hand. 

“STAND DOWN? THEY’RE STABBING ME, YOU STUPID ****!?" A rageful tone cut through the clattering of plate armor throughout the hall as Adrian and another Fellow Maehr cut through the chaos.

“Let my cousins and I leave.” Adrian bargained as Aethermaw raised menacingly, amethyst flames flowing off of the blade as he cleared his way through the two attacking him, and a hand grabbed him by the cloak as he, Adrian, and another rushed out and downstairs. He watched paintings fly by in his vision. He wanted to go back and save whoever he could. But that wasn't an option. “Run while you still can, Knife-Ear.” A voice called from upstairs, bitterness rising in his chest, before a familiar voice called from the upstairs meeting room. Fear then rose alongside his bitterness as he could tell by his tone that the voice was injured.

 

 

“TELL VETA I LOVE HER!”

Aedric Greye called to the fleeing Greye’s and allies alike, the last words they would ever hear from him.

 

 

 

Vesryn traveled towards Kurai-Kuni, determined to meet a friend on a nearby island and see the new bastion of his people. The Maehr left his Evaran Armor at home, instead traveling with some light armor he had forged previously. The warm wind was a nice change of pace from the constant rain of the East.

The Maehr looked around the brilliant temple, seeing shrines and statues of figures he had only read about as a boy. He had almost forgotten why he had come there, snapping back to his objective. He stood in front of a shrine of Luara and knelt in prayer. Hoping to get his faith back, but it seemed that he would need a miracle. How could he believe in a higher power if he can’t even believe in himself? And so he moved on, deciding to take the walk back home to Caras Siol instead of by horse. A twig broke behind him as he walked through the towering forests, and an instinctive hand flew to the pommel of his sword as he shouted “Reveal yourself!” A rustle came from the bushes before an injured Mali’ker, looking to be about ten, stumbled out of the forest. Vesryn rushed over to check her wounds, offering a comforting smile, despite every muscle in his body being fatigued, and the lack of sleep didn’t help either. He quickly addressed some bruises on the young girl’s face before asking

 

“What is your name, little one?”

 

“Aerith, Sir.” She responded weakly; it was clear she hadn’t eaten in days, and her injuries were left untreated.

The Spellblade reached into his rations, handing over a piece of bread that he was saving for himself, but.. They weren’t far from Caras Siol, he could always make more later. Memories rushed back to a story his mother often told him, of how she found him in a basket hanging from a tree and took him in. He always found it a bit strange that she would do that, especially in the mental state he would come to find out she was in during her life. He snapped back to reality, looking at the Mali’ker staring at him with a curious expression, making a decision after a long breath. He didn’t seem ready to raise a child, but he also refused to allow another to fall to the same fate that he’d seen time and time again. It would be different this time.

 

 

“How would you like to come with me, Aerith?” He asked, extending a hand to her as she was gnawing on the piece of bread he had given previously.

 

Aerith paused, looking up at him with confusion, before hesitantly taking his hand.

“Okay, Mr.” She responded

 

Vesryn had found a new purpose, a reason to keep going as he whistled for his horse, making his way back home.

He was determined to break the cycle that he was convinced was set in stone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[KeiaTypeBeat 3277]

Spoiler

Damn

Spoiler

Good post

Spoiler

Still going to pugsy you 

Spoiler

But rlly good post... Smh

 

[Maeth 53]

Spoiler

+1 Excellent work <3

 

 

[TaraJess 2848]

 

Aurelian Greye brought fresh linens to the newly decorated room. She was rather surprised in the girl's choice of room, one overlooking the library, with the ceilings a little too low. The late morning hours were spent moving furniture and decorations into that little room, doing whatever she could to make it feel homely.

[PoliteEquation7 187]

The river's flow echoed words unheard to the Greye

In moments of internal silence he sought to find them.

 

". . .You Failed. . . "

 

echoed the stream as it passed through his mind eternally.

Adrian had, he knew everything he had touched ended in ruin.

That's what made Ves special to him; he had risen above Adrian's rot.

He smiled then, it was a weary one,

though truer than any he had in the past decade,

 

"I'm proud of you"

[Ambitious 71]

Daevos began to think