rukio

“Adelith, Sam’s not well, please come to Kaedrin. I don’t think he’ll… Biggest manor in the wheat field-Justin” A bird, innocent enough, dropped the letter that would lead to it all. The ghost of her aunt had just been chased away, her mind was already racing. She wasted no time in taking off on the long journey to Kaedrin, leaving home at once. The tall trees of Farrador’s woodlands passed in a blur. The stretch of road leading to Kaedrin passed by in an instant. The manor she had only visited once before loomed over her. As though out of her own body, she watched her hand reach out and knock on the door, watched Alexios open it, telling her where to find him. But he was going to be fine last month, he was getting better. I don’t understand. Please, Sam, you can’t leave me too. Not like this. Her mind raced as she hurried into the manor, memories rushed through her like a tsunami. She hurried up the stairs of the Komnenos manor, pausing in her tracks as she found them. Justin held Sam tightly, washing the vomit from his face. Sam, who was fragile and dying from the injuries he had sustained against the Scylings, grasped Justin’s leg, tears streaming down his face from the sheer agony of it all despite his unconscious state. In what felt like a heartbeat and an eternity at the same time she fell beside them, weeping over Sam, pleading with him to live, apologizing for having gone home at all. “Please. Sam. No. Please, don’t leave me too. Don’t leave me like this Sam. Please. Wake up, Sam, wake up...PLEASE.” She had screamed at his body as she held his still warm hand, pressed her head against his as they had always done, and kissed his forehead as he had done to comfort her in the past. Anything and everything she could to try to prove to herself he was alive, that he wasn’t gone. It was no use. At some point his heart simply stopped beating, Sam’s body giving out at long last after a life full of abuse and pain. At some further point his body was carried away by Justin and in a fog Addie had trailed after them. Sometime later he was buried, and further still, his body was dug up and carried away to Farrador by Justin to be buried once more. But time was irrelevant. What did it matter when everyone I care about leaves? “Would you want to...avenge him? We could go fight the war if it would make you feel better...” “I can’t mum. I just can’t….” And then she gave her reason. But logic and reason has no place in the heart of grief. And so she went to Haense just prior to the next part of their war against the Scyflings, cloaked under armor and a mask. And so she saved some of her fellow soldiers, watched more die, and learned the true hell of war. And so she was wounded, and so she was left in a hospital bed to die of infection because her wounds had not been washed out before being stitched closed. And so her adoptive mother found her there, in a fever dream reliving the hell of the last few months, nearing death. And so her adoptive mother saved her and took her home. It hurts...please….Creator, just take me too, I can’t handle it anymore. It hurts. I always hurt. They always leave me. Please. Her prayers went unanswered. Her wounds were further healed by a medic who had always been fond of her, who took pity on her. The scars he left behind would forever curse her previously unblemished skin. The agony of the treatment would always taint her once childlike soul. But, she supposed, at least my shoulder can mend properly now. Her nightmares grew worse. She rejoined the war in secret once more. The sword she made in his memory became stained with the blood of more Scylings. It was useless. Killing them didn’t bring him back. Nothing would, or ever could. Time passed, her training to be a paladin began in full. Life dragged on, she was beginning to recover, if slowly. And then she saw him. That familiar voice, terrified, hollow, and crying. Face deformed from the injuries he had sustained before death, but there was no mistaking him. That shaggy hair, thin build, those sad eyes full of worry and pain, and the uniform he had been buried in. “Where...am I?” It had called out from under a tree, the translucent body of Sam flickered in and out of view. I begged you not to leave me….but I never meant for you to come back to me this way….oh Sam, what have I done? A reunion in the worst way she could have imagined. Her dearest friend in life, now her worst fear come true. Yet he was scared and he needed her, and so she did her best to comfort him. He was a ghost, terrified and alone in the world, she promised to never hurt him, and so she held her promise for two months. Yet, in doing so, she only found she hurt herself worse. The nightmares re-emerged in a horrific way, spurred on by the memories of the Scyfling war. Of men and women dying, of their agonized screams, of the burning ships and unrelenting fury of both sides. Of Sam, dazed and wounded, crying as she held him close until he could sleep. Echoing voices taunting her, reminding her of the promises she had made that he’d get better, that he would live. A small reprieve to her nightmares, in the form of waking to his humming as he held her. Then more nightmares. Always nightmares. Of him dying in Justin’s arms as she sat beside them, helpless. Of his ghost screaming and crying, of the wisp flickering like a flame when he was told of his and his sister’s deaths. It was all too much for her mind to handle, and so it simply s n a p p e d. The child she had been, who everyone had always seen her as, soon burned away with the memories that had crippled her, led to her attempt at self destruction. But grief is a funny thing, and just as it had taken the kind soul she had been, so too did it steal away her memories of Sam, her brain’s last ditch effort to spare itself a completed destruction. She needed time alone, for her psyche to mend itself in solitude, and so she fled the place she had called home. But she would return soon enough, she always did, as Vya knew she would…

The yung merc shows support for the Barclay!

Aurea nods along to the ode.

Lily sighs as the inbreeding continues in house Horen or whichever noble house this was...

The yung merc bashes a sword against her shield in support of Forrest.

The yung merc would read the paper as she cleans her weapons post war. “Well written, very articulate.” She’d say agreeably.

Elene frowns, quite liking Levian.

“Can I get a too far away, can’t hear you?” Asks Aurea.

“Considering Vykk is still alive and has forsaken the faith and Norland for most of its history who the **** is he to judge. Where is your proof, too, by the way, of Amice’s age or what that matters? Many accounts of humans living long lives, many accounts of half elves or adunians living long lives. Sounds like you’re part of the corruption you disgusting rodent.” Aurea replies.

I, too, like pvp.

I miss Anthos Canonist RP, or even Axios. Nuns were psychos. It was great.

Hype

A better take is that the church is useless, meaningless, hardly anyone RPs it properly, but it adds another level to the culture and enables people who dont have ooc connections a route to get Orenian power that they wouldn’t otherwise have. Yh?