I add to argue that bringing a man to full health only to cut his still beating heart out on an alter is a pretty dark image. I loved it!
Just Writing
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I add to argue that bringing a man to full health only to cut his still beating heart out on an alter is a pretty dark image. I loved it!
I stare out across the battlefield. Elena is standing opposite, looking smug. She knows she’s won. My team is all behind me, shouting at me. What they’re saying, who only knows, I just glanced back to see them. To think, our whole team was built on a lie. People that I trusted, that I loved, either never reciprocated or stopped reciprocating the same feeling.
I’d originally asked if she thought me crazy for trusting her, but Elena offered me a vision of reality. A true sight into what life was. I learned I was just a vessel. For the gods, a placeholder for their beloved. For my husband, a body to enjoy at his leisure. For my party, tricks to ease their combats. None of them cared for me, at least not anymore. I look to my Duke, why I still call him that, I’m not sure now, and he was the biggest offender of them all.
I’d changed, as one does when pregnant. He thinks me reckless, violent, demanding. I’ve mooched off of his generosity while giving nothing back. He hates my presence and resents our child. I think it couldn’t be true, but the sight of my Paladin speaking in private with our Bard showed them discussing it, showed Duke unleashing his feelings while our Bard nodded and agreed. Never had I heard a paladin all my life call someone a "selfish motherfucker" for simply not cleaning behind themselves while trying not to expel their stomach contents across our tent. I had thought you were understanding to my pregnancy. You’d seemed to me, you said you were. I am aware that I could’ve drank my nausea tea sooner, and that was my own fault, but...
The realization of how right they were hit me. All emotion became void as my tears dried instantly. The reason to care is gone. I am nothing more than a burden. I know if my party could hear that, they’d tell me a rainbow of reasons that would pull on my heartstrings, encourage me to believe their words, but there’s no strings. I don’t even want the lies. My soul will never be clean, I will never be absolved of my charlatan crimes and ways, no matter how hard I try to tell myself it will. I hadn’t realized that I’d given up trying to. And even with this realization, with my mortal enemy standing across from me ready to be destroyed, I can’t bring myself to do it. I flick my wrist as if to raise my hand and nothing more. There is no fight left in me. There is no desire left. My party has a new leader, our Bard. He can do what I can’t. I’m not needed.
I’m a waste, a burden they have to trudge across the sands.
With what strength I have left, I take a step forward. Slowly, foot by foot, I’m standing in front of the one who promised me death. I raise my head for her to provide it, dropping my crystal, I am weaponless. I am alone. I see death coming for me and I do no fear it. Of all the battles and close calls, I’ve always felt afraid. Seeing it now, it’s welcoming. Inviting. It calls to me, offers me a way from the binds of my life as a vessel. I should be frightened by this realization, but it just pleases me. Without another moment, I close my eyes and request, "Take my life from me." Elena grins, all too happy to keep her promise to end me.
This... no. My jaw has been slack for many moments, eyes unblinking, hand clinging to yours as it is the only thing keeping me grounded. Shock holds me to my place staring at my young daughter in front of me. The child that I love more than anything, who has seen more than her fair share of battles both before and after entering this world. Our firstborn and double tiloni of Uhti, much like her parents are doubled too. Her fate had been wound in the fabric of Maztica, much like her parents; a fact I toiled and struggled with off and on whenever she was put or entered a hostile situation. All I ever wanted was to keep my children safe, especially her, but it seems that I failed her.
Still the picture of perfection. Tall as her mother at the mere age of nearly 20, her features are the perfect blend of our union, just as you'd drawn her to be. Tears pool and pour down my cheeks before dropping from my face. "My Angel," I quietly sobbed to her as I look into her menacing gaze as she holds Godslayer's black sword, with it still lit, his blood dripping from it having just been fatally stabbed by it with her own hands. Had I known a decade ago that allowing the Goddess of Darkness to sip from the chalice before using it to restore Maztica would create this fate...
To hell with the nation, I just want my pure daughter back.
Kiltzi begs me to cease as I step forward. The years while still unascended have allowed us to communicate and work together. We both feel the despair, but she knows the danger of that blade. Nothing can stop me once I'm moving. Uncaring of what could come of me, I rush to my child, clinging to her as if I were about to lose her. This darkness, this evil, it isn't her. This isn't my Ana. This isn't the child who idolized her father, tormented her brothers with her wooden sword, grinned ear to ear when she was allowed to leave home and study to be a Paladin herself. I beg and plead for my Anacaona to come back, but I know all of my efforts are for naught.
I suddenly feel the searing, nearly blinding pain of the sword. I do not care, its pain is far less than the utter heartbreak from seeing what a greedy Mistress has done to my flesh and blood. I feel my life draining fast, I try to hold onto my daughter, but she just pushes me effortlessly off of her before turning to make work of her next victim. My breaths become short as I see you rush into my vision, swooping me up into your arms to move me and try to save me. With a puffy eyes, barely open, I look to you and whisper with the strength I have, "You have to save her..."
New Story:
I’m not sure how long I sat and stared at the fire, but you were sleeping peacefully, and that’s all that mattered. I needed to think. True to brand, we’d had a discussion and I couldn’t bring myself to explain how I felt, I was too afraid to. We are married, but that doesn’t mean you won’t run out on me.
You don’t know my background yet, the things I’d done to survive after running away from you all those years ago. I wanted to be able to share them with you, but would you still accept me? Would I still be the amazing person you believe me to be in your eyes? You pour your attention into me, but I can’t shake the fear you’ll hurt me too. You remind me so much of the first person I ever fell in love with, there’s just something special about you, the whole reason I’d agreed to me your mate. I want to spend every chance I can exploring that something special. What if I’m not as special as you think?
Being a charlatan leaves a lot of hurt people behind me, issues with my own temperament and behavior, all of which I fear displaying or discussing... but I want to scream out so badly who I am to avoid the hurt and heartache later. Yet whenever I try, fear consumes me, closing my throat before a sound can leave it. I haven’t wanted to love another since Kalu... but why can’t I express my darker side? Fear keeps me back, terror holds my heart, anxiety reminds me you will leave.
I look over to your sleeping form. Even without your shiny armor on, you are the picture of strong and safe. Even in this state, I know your love would pour onto me the moment I laid down beside you. But do I deserve it? Do I deserve you? The perfect Paladin that fits me in almost every way. You haven’t a single bad bone in your body, but I can’t escape the skeletons attached to mine. My head continues to go in circles. I want you, but I shouldn’t. But I don’t deserve you. But I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t want to disappoint you. I want you, but I’m afraid to want you. Tears pour down my face as I watch your peaceful sleeping face while the turmoil inside continues to rage. I’m stuck in my internal loop... and I don’t know how to stop it.