• Closed • Loss, under the light of Yldria

[Yanahalqah]

Ymiden 81st of Arc 720
Late afternoon
Yldria, Uleuda

disclaimer

This thread was co-authored in a googledoc prior to posting it here. I have Sintih's permission to "godmod" his character, if you want to call it that. When in doubt, you can check in with them for confirmation.

Previously...

The light of Yldria shone down on Ueuda. Bright, warm, energizing. Immediately surrounding the massive crystal was nothing, just open space designed to welcome the arriving Yludih whenever they so desired. A large circular square where Yludih gathered or waited for their loved ones to arrive. Surrounding this square was the first circle of buildings, all made up of crystals, grown and then shaped by the needs of the Yludih race as a whole and the Ancients. Within this first circle of buildings one could find large open spaces meant to bring together groups of Yludih to discuss or teach them in group. Many of the younger Yludih spent their first few seasons here, learning the language and the basics of Uleuda life.

Within this first circle, as close as it could be to Yldria itself, was also the hospital. Or the building that was used to house wounded Yludih. There wasn’t much in the way of healing here. Yldria provided most of it on its own and many smaller cracks or scrapes healed over time simply by being touched by the light of Yldria. For those with greater wounds, a temporary stay at the hospital was in order.

This trial saw two such Yludih occupying some of the crystal beds in the building. A thin looking Yludih who seemed like he should spent his entire life here, with a female Yludih in the sickbed next to his, covered mostly by the soft crystalline sheets. Her features were largely blank and angular, like a roughly hewn boulder or an unrefined gemstone, save for the large crack on the right side of her face. It looked like one of the injuries some Yludih would come to seek treatment for, but hers was old rather than fresh, and no amount of Yldria’s light had ever closed it even a little bit. That mattered very little though, as it wasn’t the cause of her hospitalization either way.

[Sintih]

disclaimer

I can neither confirm nor deny that the disclaimer Yana posted in her post was true. But I do confirm it. Also, I have Yana's permission to write as her character (godmodding). You can check with them for confirmation.

She didn’t seem conscious just yet, lying still and unmoving in the infirmary bed, only the slow but steady pulse of her asterism --along with the light still contained within her crystals-- betraying her form was living, not dead. A source of relief for her neighbour, no doubt. The thin Yludih peeked over to his neighbor, the only sign of consciousness on his end being a slight turn of his head as he did so before going back to staring up at the crystal ceiling.

His right arm hurt a lot, as if it had been burned from the inside and then smashed with a hammer to crack the outer layer of the his right arm entirely. In stark contrast to the pain there, both of his legs provided him with almost no feeling at all, even the soft crystalline fabric that covered them went mostly unnoticed unless he tried to make big movements to turn over. The crystal bed wasn’t the most comfortable of resting places. He turned to peek at his neighbor again a few bits later, releasing a soft whistle in relief when he saw her asterism still pulsing like before.

Why did he do that? Why did he keep checking on her to make sure? He’d wake up later and all of this would be gone anyway. He checked again. Still alive. It was an odd feeling, this combination of pride at his success, underlined with the knowledge that he may have set his mental health back by a season or two of therapy. But, thinking back on the moment, he’d probably make the same sacrifice again in an asterism pulse.

He looked over again, worried, but she hadn’t woken up since they had been saved and she’d seemed like she’d completely missed the harshly whispered conversation between him and his mother when she had arrived. Luckily, his father had managed to convince her to leave the two of them to rest and to give him an earful later on. Which was also curious because neither of them had ever been in one of these before. Were they getting worse, drawing on more of his mind to cement their reality in his head?

[Yanahalqah]

There was no visible indication of her waking. Having no eyes to blink or to open, it was nearly impossible to tell whether the faceless Yludih was asleep or awake. The pulsing of her asterism, the light being pushed from the center of her body to the extremities, the soft flashing and waning of the generated light and warmth… it all remained the same at first. Stable. Unchanging.

Yet there was a noise. Like a gasp for breath, but not quite the same. Uleuda had no air to breathe. Yludih did not have lungs to allow for it either. But the sound was there nonetheless. A raspy croak of someone who was abruptly woken from slumber. Shards of broken glass that scraped against each other. She didn’t stir much, but a reaction was noticeable to those who paid attention. First there was a slight stiffening, a tensing of crystal core and limbs. Ready for action, or trying to be. Asterism pulse quickening, light flaring brighter. It lasted for about a second. Then the tension faded, and she seemed to sink a little deeper into the bed. The rhythm returned to its relaxed beat, the light it spread dimmed just a bit. Along it came a soft and barely audible whistle, like the resonance of a wine glass that was almost completely full.

His own pulse quickened, if that were even possible. It always flickered like a candle light in a windy room at the calmest of times but now it was pushed by relief and hope and the end of worry but most of all, love. Love which he shouldn’t be feeling. Not for this one, at least. But he turned his head to look at her, just in time to watch her relax. The sudden movement of his head to his left caused his right shoulder to pull on his right arm, which flared with pain and he whistled against the pain, an involuntary breathing reflex he’d picked up before ever coming to Uleuda. And while he wanted to know, he didn’t want to engage further, or not without good reason. So he watched, in silence, patiently waiting for her to open her eyes, although he couldn’t see her do that, so patiently waiting for her to turn her head in his direction and maybe say something.

[Sintih]

The silence between them remained unbroken for a while though, as neither seemed willing to speak up first. Perhaps the both of them were trying to determine if the other was really awake, or had simply made noise in their sleep. The female Yludih did not move her head, nor the rest of her body for that matter. Awake or not, her blank features kept facing the ceiling.

And then, there it was. The first spoken word.

“Sintih?”

“That’s me.” He tried to joke but his voice seemed to betray an equal mix of worry and relief.

Part of her wanted to respond in kind, but she suppressed the urge. There were questions swirling around in her head, fighting for dominance. The quip was no match for it. “Are you okay?”

He was quiet for a moment and then she heard him lift his head up, as if to check. “I’m alive but were both-...” He stopped, ending whatever he wanted to say before he finished it. There was hesitation for a moment and then he spoke again. “I managed to save you this time.”

“This time?” The crystals in her forehead rearranged themselves as if to frown, but no visible change occurred to the blank face. For a moment, she searched her memory for the unspoken event, and found none. “Was there--?” A pause. Briefly, ordening her thoughts. “Thank you.” Genuine. She could have been smiling.

Another soft shuffle of crystalline fabric as he moved again. His voice hardened as he chimed at her again. “It doesn’t really matter.” He followed those words up with a short, sharp noise which was the Ulehi equivalent for an Idalosian clicking his tongue.

“It does to me.” The smile was gone though. Replaced with something else. Yana wasn’t too sure what, exactly. Sintih had been acting weird then too, when they’d met on the wall. Something had felt off, however she hadn’t been able to put a finger on what. Only that this wasn’t what he’d been like before. Now those suspicions were only growing in strength and numbers.

[Yanahalqah]

Finally, she turned. Gaze tearing itself away from the ceiling as she repositioned her head on the pillow. As the crack was on his side, she had to turn far more to be able to catch him in her field of vision. A bed similar like hers, covered by the same kind of blankets. Staring at the ceiling above, or at least his head was facing that way. “What’s one success in dozens of failures? It only cost me an arm and both my legs to do so.” His voice remained sharp and he seemed to refuse to face her as he spoke.

“Depends on the success itself. There’s no point in succeeding all the time if you fail at the point where it really matters. Likewise, as long as you succeed when it counts, the failures from before are inco--”

His face flared with light from his asterism as he suddenly turned to her, cutting through her chimes. “I failed the first time!” His words sounded like they were meant to hurt her. “The rest of them have no point. Just a way for me to keep torturing myself. For you to keep torturing me! All these dozen other attempts are meaningless.”

“I don’t remember any such times,” she chimed softly, “but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“You never do. And it’s worth nothing anymore. Not after..." After what? Which one was the first one again? He touched his left hand to his temple, trying to rub crystals against crystals to massage away the headache that was forming. Why was he getting so upset at her. It didn’t matter anymore, after all. Not with this Yana. Not after the… His head felt like it was on fire, much like his arm. The beheading? Or had it been the Nulliem in the snow? The wolves? Freezing? Or had it been his fault? The one where he’d had to kill her first? Frozen, but differently? The blood, surrounded by bodies of her fallen enemies, ultimately fallen herself? The Nulliem in her asterism? The bear or had it been a massive wolf or had it been a scaled monstrosity or had it been one of those giant white ape ones? Or the bandits? Which one had it been? It felt like someone had shoved a burning piece of Yldria straight into his head

[Sintih]

There came no response. Instead the crystal-weave sheets ruffled and rustled as she shifted again to return her stare to the ceiling.

“What am I to you, Sintih? Why save me if it doesn’t matter?”

Why did he do it? That was an easy one. “Because I love you. And you keep giving me chances to try, even though I always failed. Until this trial.”

The soft chiming and jingling of a multitude of bells filled the room. It took him a moment to realize she was laughing.

“I’m glad.” She chuckled again. “Isn’t that reason enough? You succeeded this time, didn’t you? Which means the chances weren’t wasted at all, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

She sometimes tried this. He’d occasionally tried to explain it to her before. She seemed to think that this time would be different. They never had. “This time? When Yldria has already gone dark? There’s no point in this success.” He chimed half of the Yludih proverb at her. Killing a Nulliem when Yldria has already gone dark. Saving this Yana meant nothing to him. He’d get out of here sooner or later and then he’d be back alone, back with his failures. No, back with his failure.

“There’s more light than Yldria’s alone,” she countered with her own idiom.

He hated it when she did that. Always hopeful, always ready to go again. But how could she understand when she couldn’t remember? She made him want to get up and go yell at her but between the pain in his right arm and his legs’ inability to carry him not a single step from his bed, he had to content himself with a balled crystal fist against the soft crystalline fabrics that covered the bed. “You are dead!” He chimed sharply, the same tone meant to cut through her and hurt her, to make him feel better. It never worked.

“I am very much alive though.” Deadpan. “Thanks to you, no less.”

[Yanahalqah]

He yelled at her, just wordless anger and frustration at his inability to make her understand how pointless his actions had been. It sounded like someone smashed a crystal vase on the floor but the shattering noise kept stretching itself out until he ran out of energy. His eyes were focused on her, his face and chest barely lit as his asterism flickered away like a dying star.

“But, I am starting to understand a little, I think.” Once again she turned towards him, but didn’t really bother doing so all the way. The large crack on her face making up most of what Sintih could see of it. “How real am I to you? Here? Now?” There was a certain edge to her chimes, more a sensation than emotion. Like a shark perking up when it smelled blood. Part curiosity, part bloodlust. And yet not quite both. Inquisitive, sharp. Cutting straight to what she surely believed to be the heart of the issue.

He had nothing left to throw at her in the moment, no energy to withstand her question, no energy to steel himself to the emotions she always brought with her. She was always the most difficult one to deal with.

“Not.”

A single word, chimes filled with guilt and loss. There was nothing left to protect him as the loss washed over him and he stopped talking, trying to keep himself from breaking down, in vain. His left hand moved up to cover the bottom half of his face, to try and stifle his crying, although that was an Idalosian concept and didn’t help here at all.

To say the single mono-syllable was painful to hear would be an understatement. It was a knife driven into her back, sinking deeply into the crystals of her body. Piercing through layers and layers until it reached the asterism. That one word hurt her more than any blade ever had. Yana had several scars, even in her crystal form. Cracks that had been filled with newer crystals through the healing properties of time itself. Their hue was a little different, and though hard to spot even through the simple translucent robe, they did exist. Each and every one of them had evoked searing pain, and yet none could compare to the one word Sintih let resonate through the room.

[Sintih]

It hit her far deeper than the shallow cuts of a weapon. It slipped through her defenses, past the walls and snuck its way to where it would hurt the most. Even though she had somewhat expected that answer, there was no way to defend against it. Not against the bluntness of the word, or the tone of guilt and sadness that accompanied it. The female Yludih did not speak, not trusting her voice. She needed a moment to recollect herself, to regain her composure. Underneath the bed sheets, her fists were clenched into tight balls, straining her fingers to the point where she wouldn’t be surprised if they’d just snap and shatter.

Yana wished she hadn’t asked, even though she’d already known the answer before he’d voiced it. The puzzle pieces had been falling into place during the whole of their conversation, shedding light on the issue Sintih was struggling with. It wasn’t the first time she’d interacted with someone who believed Uleuda to not be real, but it was the first time someone she treasured did. It stirred up a cocktail of different emotions, so mixed up and intertwined that it was nearly impossible to tell what she was feeling.

There was a soft shifting from the bed next to hers as Sin turned his head to his right, away from her. His asterism continued to flicker as it had before, running away with the emotions that he was struggling with. His left hand remained to cover part of his face, even though it served no real purpose here.

For a while, the two Yludih lay next to each other in the same room yet were so far apart. Neither spoke, neither wanted to give their emotions a chance to slip out. What if they lost control? What if they said something they shouldn’t, in the moment, backed by emotions, that could harm what was most important to them.

[Yanahalqah]

“I see,” Yana said then, voice back under control, though the strain in her chimes was obvious. “So that’s how it is.” Sadness far deeper than even she realized layered her words, and it was hard to keep herself in check while Sintih’s last word still drifted through her mind. She shifted on the bed, throwing off the sheets with a quick motion of her arms, then turned to sit on the edge. It required a surprising amount of effort, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t recovered yet, or because of the confrontation with reality --and Sintih’s too-- stirring up such turmoil within herself.

Feet on the floor, she stood, pushing her body upright. Unsteady for a moment, balance foreign. Yet she regained it quickly, adapting and overcoming. The first step forward was difficult, but the next came easy. To his bed, to his side.

She reached out with trembling hands, body bent at the waist so she leaned over him slightly. Face to face, closer and closer. Perhaps too close. Uselessly close when neither had facial features. Her hands crept towards his face, slowly, gingerly, then grabbed him by the collar of his robe. Yana pulled him up, working her arms, joints and back, lifting him halfway into a seated position, face still as close to hers as before. He was lighter than before, lighter than he used to be.

“What about now?” she questioned, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice, emotions running too wild to be subdued completely. Sadness, yes, but anger too. Frustration, desperation, loss, hope. “Can a hallucination do this? Can it lift you halfway up while you can hardly move yourself?” It hadn’t been what she’d wanted to say. It hadn’t been what she’d wanted to do before to try to shake him awake, but their Uleuda forms put a spanner in the works. There was a scratching of broken shards of glass to express her frustration, and she brought her head forward, none too gently. Forehead smacked against forehead, a crystal CLINK making the both of them flinch, though it wasn’t an attack. She preserved the contact, feeling the light and warmth, diminished as they may be, course through his body with every pulse of his weak asterism. “Can’t you feel my body? The heat within it? Can’t you feel the contact between us?”

There were no eyes to check, no facial structure to read, barely a body to get any language off of. Just two humanoid shaped crystal formations butting heads. He could feel her asterism pulse, stronger and slower than his, even when they weren’t truly connected yet. The rhythmical pulse made him feel her loss all the more but helped to calm him in the moment and he focused a little more on her instead of the pain. His position was awkward, with his legs almost non responsive and his right arm hurting whenever he tried to move it. All he had, as she held him up, half off the bed, was a functioning left hand and a pulsing asterism.

[Sintih]

“I can.” He chimed as he slowly reached up with his left hand. His voice was monotonous, equal in tone and intent throughout as he continued to chime. “And I could when you kissed me.” He brought his hand up and lightly tapped his fingers against her right shoulder. She shivered almost imperceptibly under his touch. “And when you hugged me.” His fingers walked across her shoulder to her neck. “And when we huddled together to keep from freezing to death. It didn’t work for you.” His hand snaked over her arm and down to her asterism, avoiding the only set of crystals that betrayed the Yludih in front of him as a female. He gently touched the edge of the pulsing crystal in between them. “And when I had to stab you in the asterism to keep you from killing me.”

He hesitated there, sensing something different here for a moment, but then his hands moved up over her crystals to her chin and then the front of her face, where he imagined her mouth to be. “And I could feel the light escape you here when a Nulliem stabbed his hand through your asterism. Of course, you’d jumped in to protect me.” He touched her cheek softly, brushing past it as he moved to the back of her head, holding her there lightly. “And I could feel it here when I held your dead body for two trials, slowly feeling it grow colder and colder in my hands.”

Yana’s grip weakened, she felt like she’d been slapped. Disappointment and sadness welled up inside, threatening to overflow. “I see.” A crack in her chimes. She suddenly looked so very tired through body language alone. “And here I thought this to be a happy day. I… I don’t think I can deal with this right now.”

His hand moved away from her head and dropped back down next to him on the bed. A moment later his entire body followed, and Yana was gone.

“I know.” He chimed out loud to himself. “But you won’t remember any of this once this ends. And it always ends.” His asterism died back down to a little flickering flame as the little bit of light she’d shared with him dissipated. When was he going to wake up from this one? It had never gone like this before. He’d never managed to save anyone before. Always loss, always sorrow. He’d tried every time, he’d fallen for it again and again, each time with her asterism’s pulse fading to nothing in or by his hands.

His mind reached back to a moment before, when she’d been in his face, entirely. Something had been off there. What if this wasn’t… He cut his own train of thought sharply. Don’t engage, Doctor Tholian always said. Engaging wouldn’t help him. Engaging only caused it to hurt more. He had to continue on and live with his faults. Something he’d once read tried to pop into his mind, something about kingdoms and the dead but it didn’t gain enough traction to even fully manifest as a thought. Sin closed his eyes and let himself sink deep within himself once more.