Arveldirs mind falters, a certain numbness setting in that he had never thought he would feel. He remembers the first time he killed, the only thought that ran through his mind was similar to this, but he were the victim. This can’t be real.
It passed his mind like a small glimmer of hope, lasting only a moment before his eyes rested on her signature. He shook. He felt a heat well up in his face, and fill him to the brim only to leak tears that burned his freshly shaven cheeks and drip off of his chin.
Slow. Slow.
Memories come back to him, to the day whenever he met the love of his life. The memories play out as if he were a bystander watching. The boy with no face, and the pale girl with beautiful peridot eyes. He watched them bicker, and fight over a mad druid. He watched them grow apart and come together, and travel. He watched their first kiss, his best idea for a goodbye, for a hug wouldn’t suffice to him. He watched himself make a fool of himself and dance to propose to her, and saw them get married. He watched their perfect lives together, and their perfect son being born.
It was incomplete, only a half written story. He traversed three lands with her and thought to traverse thousands more. He’d promise to take her everywhere, write more chapters in their story and finish it off dying old and happy. But the book was left with too many unfinished pages, and the story of Yaehahn and Arveldir Des’Nox had ended, and closed.
The boy with no face sat by a stream, watching the water trickle by as he thought of his daughter, he’d only seen a glimpse of her and couldn’t bear to see any more. Not yet.
That day, until he could face his daughter, the final gift from the love of his life, Arveldir Des’Nox was broken.