Lost

[Elyna]

27th Ashan 717

Her footsteps were heavy on the rise from the city. She was moving through wet sand, sinking and sluggish. There were no more tears to cry. The Skyrider was empty; her heart had been pulled from her chest and if it wasn’t for Elsie, she wouldn’t be here any longer. That was a simple truth. People said that grief eased with time, Elyna had never found that. Her grief for Yoreth had stretched out for arcs, and it had never been any less painful; she’d only become better at numbing her thoughts and the ache in her heart. Until Malcolm.
Things had never been perfect. They’d never been simple, and yet he’d pulled her out of an abyss and forced her into life. Elyna stood beyond the door to the mansion and struggled to lift her hand to knock. She was lucky and the door opened. Silent, she moved through the hallway and went in search of her daughter, only to find that Elsie had been taken out with Anna and the other children to run around gardens at the crown. Disappointment was hard to swallow. Every step had been filled with longing, determined to make it back to the mansion and hold her baby tight.
Lost, she drifted back through the corridors. They’d moved Vakhanor to a bedroom. It wasn’t a large room, containing just a bed and a dresser filled with various tinctures and herbs.
“He needed to sleep,” a worried maid lingered at the door, “or his wounds would have killed him…we’ve ensured he had the rest he needed.”
Knowing how Vakh hated others taking control of his person, Elyna couldn’t imagine the man was going to wake up happy. She dismissed the servant, who lingered at the door before vanishing.
The skyrider sank into a chair beside the man and reached out, curling her fingers around his hand. It was there she remained, silent, staring at the pale blue wall and waiting for a sign that he was coming around, or that Elsie had returned home. Was this her punishment? Was Malcolm dead because she had kissed the Smith?

[Vakhanor]

Nights and Trials went past, turning into what felt like an eternity of darkness as Vakhanor lay sedated on a mattress waiting for something, anything. Soon cracks began to surface in the darkness as blood the colour of lava wept through the cracks of his conscious, shedding light in the dark space as the molten liquid oozed onto the floor surrounding him.

Boom... boom... boom.

Vakhanor's heart throbbed in chest, fighting against the lingering sting of the pain that sucked the energy from his body. Sensations were coming back to him, and with them so did the gentle touch of the softness of someone's hand 'Hello?!' the smith called out into the space, hoping the words would reach the outside world. There was no answer. Light entered his vision "Hello!" the mutter finally reached his lips, rage returning to him as he recalled the events of the trial long since past.

Reacting to that moment Vakhanor sat up in a hysteria, clenching his grip on Elyna's palm as his voice boomed loudly, echoing off the four walls "Where am I!?" Eventually the hazed moment of rage began to fade as he looked up and saw Elyna sat there next to him, looking idly at a wall.

"Ely," the smith uttered between heavy breaths, releasing his tightened grip around her fingers "My sweet little Ely." A tear fell down his face as a cruel, lonely and choked laughter escaped him "you're alive... good." There was no doubt in his mind that he had not made it to go on the trip with the Skyrider, the wretched twats that resided in the household probably made sure of that. A wave of tension left Vakahnor as he watched Ely realised that for whatever reason she was sad. 'No,' the smith nimbly shifted in the bed, once again pushing past any of the agony his wounds threatened him with and embraced Elyna, holding her in his arms "Hey..." the Aukari whispered, resting his head against her "Shhhhhhh. You're a good girl."

[Elyna]

“Vakh,” Elyna squeezed his fingers, wincing as the circulation was cut off to her palm. The man sat up, sweat drenched and turbulent. Pale eyes searching the room. His sweet little Ely? Whilst the noblewoman knew that she was many things, it was a long time since she’d been considered sweet. The man pulled her into the tight embrace of his arms and she remained stiff, unyielding. “Hey, they said they kept you out for a few days, how are you feeling?” She drew back to study him, business-like. Taking in the bruises and healing wounds on his body. Vakhanor was a tall, broad man with muscles built from years behind a Smith’s anvil. They’d flirted with attraction over the past arc and yet she studied him as though cold; distant.
You’re a good girl.
She frowned. It was the kind of thing she said to Elsie, a reward. The world seemed to drop away. How was she going to explain? Somehow there had to be a way to communicate that Malcolm would not be returning, but currently, Elsie was too little to understand what that would mean. Elyna returned to her chair, “we found a body,” she explained calmly.
“Malcolm is dead.” I killed him. She kept the recrimination to herself. “You’ll be resting here a few more trials, Vakh. Then I propose that we search for somewhere for you to live? I doubt you want to remain here longer than you have to, though you’d be very welcome to stay.” Vakhanor hated nobles, or distrusted them. Either way, she was aware of his discomfort.
“Can I fetch you a drink?”

[Vakhanor]

Callous words spread from Elyna's mouth like a growing infection festering in the cold abandon of her suffering, and with it returned the part of who she truly was that Vakhanor had long since despised. By his bedside was not Elyna, the general of the Skyriders; it was Lady Elyna Burhan.

Anger returned to his expression as he realised that he was alone, and whatever Elyna once was to him and festered into a blistering rot in his side. "No," he growled and returned the same cool hearted demeanour, his piercing blue eyes fastened on the young noble. "Now you know the pain of losing the people you love," Vakhanor replied, rising from the bed to find whatever clothes that remained for him "at least we understand each other."

Moving past Elyna toward the neat pile of old, burnt clothing folded on the dresser Vakhanor nonchalantly began to dress himself, careless of the people that surrounded him. "I might have lost everything my lady, but I'm not about to allow myself to say I cheated my way back up the ladder by allowing a noble to compensate me," he snarled, the words like poison and he turned to her, defiant "I still have my pride, Lady Elyna. When you need me, I will come. I risked my life for you and will do it again, but do not treat me like an outlaw."

[Elyna]

The woman would have been shocked by the sudden burst of anger and cool response. She’d followed all the rules and tried to help her friend. Her offers of help, were thrown back in her face with the callous accusation. Now she knew the pain. The young woman blinked. She’d always known that pain. Long before she’d lost Malcolm, she’d lost Yoreth. Never, had she suspected that she and Vakhanor were on separate paths. Now she could understand him? They’d always understood one another and the unspoken bonds which bought them both such misery and hope.
More accusations followed as she stood. The shirt was pulled on over his chest and then the battered trousers. She watched his pale legs vanish beneath the fabric, dispassionate as anyone who has spent a considerable amount of time in the company of soldiers.
“I don’t know what you think I was offering, Vakhanor.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You dislike nobility, so I didn’t think you would want to spend much more time here. I would offer you all the hospitality in the world, as would my parents because I am grateful and indebted to you. You saved my life, you saved the life of my unborn child. Not only that, but I consider you a friend. So, Vakh – I made a suggestion that the two of us, as friends, could help you find somewhere within your means, to live, where you would be comfortable.”
The young woman lifted her chin, dark eyes wet with misery, “I have always understood you Vakhanor. I’ve always understood the depth of grief that comes with losing a loved one. Perhaps, you don’t know me at all if you’ll throw such cold accusations at my feet. I’ll make things very simple for you thought. Get in that bed and REST before you kill yourself! Or get out.” The base of her stomach pinched and she grimaced, hand dropping to the bump. Elyna massaged the underside of the curve, trying to ease the pain.

[Vakhanor]

Pain

They both knew it well, they had always shared it. Vakhanor knew the depths of Elyna's heart and she knew his, he already knew that. Callous notions were what he knew, they were how he dealt with the world without question and there she stood crying while begging him to get back to bed.

"Or get out."

The sting of her words echoed through his heart time he had been wrong, tears fell down his cheeks as he turned to look back at her. "You are the last thing I have left in this world. I know you well," his voice softened, a lump filling his throat as sorrow replaced his anger. In two split trills everything he had ever lived for would slip through his fingers and with Elyna gone, he would truly have nothing.

Elyna had won. Mindless and lost, the smith wandered back to the bed like a zombie under the noble woman's control "I was wrong." Vakhanor trembled with fear as he lay back against the mattress. There was nothing left of him.

"I said I'd help you." the man uttered with broken voice, unable to meet the rage in her eyes "and I couldn't do anything but lay here and do nothing. Forgive me"

[Elyna]

“Vakh,” he sank back, defeated and she wasn’t sure what was worse. The torrent of undeserved anger or his silent retreat. She returned to her chair and reached out, brushing the back of his hand with her fingers. Her own frustration mellowed with his return to safety. Beyond the window, spring birds were singings and pale pink blossom was making a shy appearance.
“You told me that I am too hard on myself…but what are you demanding from yourself? You did everything to save me. You’ve given up everything to help me…why do you not think that you deserve the same treatment in return?” She tried to curl her fingers around his hand. The skyrider bent, lifting the digits till she could kiss the back of them. “There is nothing to forgive…he was gone before I even managed to go out and search.” Her voice cracked and she looked skywatd.
“It’s a cruel world that steals the people we love from us and I…I find it hard to believe that things will improve and get better. The world owes us nothing except a new sunrise every day.” She couldn’t remember who had told her that, but it was wisdom that had stuck. “I want to help you, not to take your pride, or from charity – but because you’re my friend, and I love you. You would do, and have done, the same for me. Will you not let me pay of a little of my debts to you, dear friend?”

[Vakhanor]

Defeat had been softer than Vakhanor had anticipated. Long the whispers of the dead faces had haunted his mind, long had they trailed in his steps. Guilt was a fickle mistress, unwilling to release him. He would never forgive himself for not being with her that day. Vakhanor's tears subsided and the world without fire felt a little warmer "Alright," he relented, keeping a hold of her hand "on the condition you let me help you with Elsie until you find someone else to share that burden with."

Fatigue challenged the exhausted smith's limbs, coaxing him back into slumber. Still he resisted, adamant to be in this moment with Elyna for a little while longer. More walls, fancy furniture and laying about doing nothing useful to anyone. Unfortunately for him, anxiety was a bane that he wasn't sure how to deal with and the stillness was driving the Aukari mad.

Madness saw him mulling over the wisdom that Elyna tried to offer and lost its intention. He was a man raised to inflict pain and torment upon other people, ever since his young teenage years that had been what he knew and he was good at it "I don't deserve love and kindness Ely."

Discomforted by the admission Vakhanor shifted his attention to the window "Life bought me to you. We're not built on love. We fight, it's what we know how to do and I've got your back."

[Elyna]

Elyna nodded her agreement, because it was easier than fighting. There wouldn’t be anyone else to share the burdens of her family with. Was Vakhanor suggesting that one day she would move on and form another family? That some other man would become Elsie’s beloved father? It was hard to breath in the small room and she was left, still once more. Her usual impulse to move or wander, curbed dramatically. The only thing that she could do, was live each moment at a time. Trying to help her friend, had been a welcome distraction for the screaming agony within. She held onto the emotion, tight, afraid of the outcome if she were to let it go. If all of the grief got out of the box, how would it ever fit back in again?
“Everyone deserves kindness, Vakhanor,” she spoke the quiet truth because she believed it. “You’re right though, in a way. Not everyone is lucky enough to find love, not that they don’t deserve it…but sometimes when it’s there in front of you – we’re too afraid to accept it.” She had pushed Malcolm to the edge of her life, despite his insistent devotion. “I think, Vakh that we’ve both seen too much pain, to accept anything else with open arms. Maybe it is why we fight so hard against the gifts we’re given.” She seem to sink down in the chair, the tears dried on her cheeks and forming patches of silver salt. The energy stolen from her limbs as she sat. Only willing to speak the truth.
“There will be a new dawn. That is all I know.”

[Vakhanor]

A new dawn, a new day, a new life. Soon the world would turn on itself, and he'd live in a home with a freshly brought bedroll and another fire to lay beside. Fire and Panic left little proof that Vakhanor killed the priest, however sooner or later somebody would come. Somebody would find out and the calm life that Elyna promised would fade away and he'd rot at the bottom of a dungeon.

"For you yes," the smith smiled, gently rubbing his thumb against her skin "A girl like you will thrive. You'll meet new people, experience new and fun adventures with your little ones. Make a happy home."

The smith bowed his head "As for me, my wounds will heal. They'll search the wreckage of the house and they will come for me. I'll be dragged off to a cell to rot and my house will be nothing but an empty shell of wall taken over by some other happy couple." After over six Arcs of remaining clean he committed murder yet again. I'm a bad man, Elyna. Run. He wanted to say to her. Maybe he should have walked out that door, she would have been better without him. If not for the loneliness he knew that would bring to her. To continue living was to be prepared to live a criminal life, that was his sacrifice.

"If you so strongly desire me to continue living as you did that night. I will live Elyna, but time is not our friend. Murder of a holy man is not a gentle charge, by the time they release me I will have been consumed by the fire within."