Sanria sank into the bathtub at her home. Though Sandorin and Colin were nearby, she felt nothing would change if she took a few minutes to collect her fleeing thoughts. Her talk with Lithanus, Throm's son, had left her feeling confused, worried, angry, and more than anything, afraid. They had no idea where Throm was, and with his having given black makou to Emalia, Colin turning out to be -at least part- of some evil entity, and Emalia seeming to have vanished off the face of Toril all together - Sanria needed this moment more than ever.
The bubbles popped in a steady hiss around her as she finally touched the bottom of the tub. Sanria leaned back and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. Her thoughts brushed over the fact that both she and Lithanus had discussed - no body. Emalia couldn't be dead, otherwise her essence would have been detected or a body located... and neither had come to pass. No one could locate Emalia, and that could be viewed both as a good thing... and a bad.
Sanria's mind then shifted to Throm. Applying the selfsame logic, she knew he could not be dead. There was no body, there was no sense of his essence. But why? Why had he gone off without a word to her, again? Indeed, had he gone of his own will, and was he now in the same place that Emalia was?
While the hot water did rest her tight muscles, Sanria still had a few tears slide down her cheeks. She pulled a wet hand from the water to rest it upon her forehead, sending rivulets of water along her skin and in the same channels as her tears. Why was this happening to her again? Was it something she had done to offend the Gods? She began to fully contemplate breaking off her engagement to Throm (if she ever found him to do such a thing), and suffering only the loss of love rather than the loss of a lover, even though it was already taking place.
Sitting up, Sanria hunched to where her tired face had almost hit the water and began to sob. Memories, hopes, dreams - each and all danced through her head in a parade of visions until one voice broke through the muffled voices of thought. It came to her like a giant bell ringing clearly through the air. 'Sanria...'
Whatever self-loathing and piteous feelings Sanria held for her situation fled like night at the touch of dawn. She lept from the tub, water flying in spatters upon the floor. She nearly fell to the ground, and snatching her towel, she wrapped it around her body and sped to the door. 'THROM!'
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:RPnote label:Emalia. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:RPnote label:Emalia. Sort by date Show all posts
Emalia Dies
Grobnak's office looked the same as it always had - and at the approach of Emalia, Grobnak leapt up from his chair. "Emalia! You're alive!" The scent of death and decay swirled around her, but it didn't seem to bother either of them. At Grobnak's approach, Emalia inwardly recoiled - the killer of her child - how dare he approach her. All this time she thought of him as decent - not knowing that all along everyone was right about his cold, calculating nature. "What is it that you have there?"
"This... is... my baby. Look at her... isn't she beautiful?"
For a shimmering moment, Brin was alive in her arms - but the vision wavered and the ball of rot came back into view with black, bloated lips pursed for suckling. "I don't understand," Grobnak interrupted. "You lost it? You were only a few weeks along."
"Nooooo," Emalia began in a hollow whisper. "She's here... she's here now."
"I... I am sorry, Emalia."
"Hold her," Emalia commanded. She thrust the decayed child into Grobnak's arms. Upon his face gathered a tear, and it drove Emalia near insanity. A growl gathered in her throat, even as the black ichor that coursed through her rewarded her for the hate. "You did this to me. You did this to her."
"Me? No, Emalia."
"Yes. You did. You gave me that disease... the disease that KILLED my baby."
"No, Emalia. If I made people ill, there would be many more deaths. I am Chosen, yes, but I am not contagious."
"LIAR!" Emalia shoved her hands into Grobnak, thrusting him backward. "Halethiel TOLD me what you did... you sick... sick bastard! YOU infected me."
"Halethiel is centuries dead! What is it about this that you people do not understand?"
"You did this to me," Emalia began. The rage that she had quelled only a bit was washing over her - the black makou prasing her for the turn in her nature. It flowed easier now - but Emalia did not know. She advanced slowly upon Grobnak. "You killed my child... and I can't live knowing you aren't going to pay. I'm going to make you pay for this, Grobnak."
"I did nothing, Fallen! Know that I will tolerate your anger and your insolence, but you will not assault me for your lack of Faith, no matter how dear you may be to me!"
"DEAR TO YOU!" Emalia barely could understand the words once they had left her mouth, so high pitched were they. Grobnak held his ground, his black eyes looking down upon her with a mix of emotions Emalia could not, and didn't try to descern.
"Bring your wrath, then. I did not hurt this child. I have done naught but seek to reveal the Truth to you, which you refuse to see."
The words were enough to halt Emalia for only a moment - until her eyes rested upon the decayed baby that Grobnak had placed in the chair. Rage like no other she'd known flooded her and she gripped Grobnak's arm with her fingers like talons. She did only what she knew to do - she pulled upon the world around her, channeling through her body the very essence of the planet, while forcing it in a torrent into Grobnak.
Emalia could barely see from her own eyes - the pain of the black makou being mixed with what she was caused only the color white to explode over and over in her vision. A scream broke from her throat as she gripped tighter - her entire body shuddering inwardly with pain that felt as though her flesh was being flayed from her skin by hooks. Only when the body before her began to fall did she relent enough to note the connection which made her kin to Grobnak's thoughts - and he to hers. Only as the ragnarok demon's wings melted into a puddle and dripped to the floor did she realize she had been wrong. Grobnak's life flickered out like a candle blown, and Emalia fell to the ground with him.
"Oh no..." The madness that capped Emalia's face broke into pure horror. "You... were... right... Oh Gods..." Feebly, Emalia tried to ignore the pain within her, to right the wrong, to find Grobnak's life and restore it - but it was too late for him - and for herself. She had fully let herself go to slay him, and with the pain digging itself into her - the attempt to pull life - to give life - Emalia's vison began to fade.
Nothing more could be done for Grobnak, and with the loss of all that held her together inside, Emalia collapsed onto Grobnak with a shuddering breath. It was her last. The remainder of her lifeforce shot from her, a brilliant explosion. When the guards finally entered, a body of a baby was in a chair, an orc laid upon the ground in a puddle of black ooze, and atop his chest was a woman in dirty white robes. All were dead.
"This... is... my baby. Look at her... isn't she beautiful?"
For a shimmering moment, Brin was alive in her arms - but the vision wavered and the ball of rot came back into view with black, bloated lips pursed for suckling. "I don't understand," Grobnak interrupted. "You lost it? You were only a few weeks along."
"Nooooo," Emalia began in a hollow whisper. "She's here... she's here now."
"I... I am sorry, Emalia."
"Hold her," Emalia commanded. She thrust the decayed child into Grobnak's arms. Upon his face gathered a tear, and it drove Emalia near insanity. A growl gathered in her throat, even as the black ichor that coursed through her rewarded her for the hate. "You did this to me. You did this to her."
"Me? No, Emalia."
"Yes. You did. You gave me that disease... the disease that KILLED my baby."
"No, Emalia. If I made people ill, there would be many more deaths. I am Chosen, yes, but I am not contagious."
"LIAR!" Emalia shoved her hands into Grobnak, thrusting him backward. "Halethiel TOLD me what you did... you sick... sick bastard! YOU infected me."
"Halethiel is centuries dead! What is it about this that you people do not understand?"
"You did this to me," Emalia began. The rage that she had quelled only a bit was washing over her - the black makou prasing her for the turn in her nature. It flowed easier now - but Emalia did not know. She advanced slowly upon Grobnak. "You killed my child... and I can't live knowing you aren't going to pay. I'm going to make you pay for this, Grobnak."
"I did nothing, Fallen! Know that I will tolerate your anger and your insolence, but you will not assault me for your lack of Faith, no matter how dear you may be to me!"
"DEAR TO YOU!" Emalia barely could understand the words once they had left her mouth, so high pitched were they. Grobnak held his ground, his black eyes looking down upon her with a mix of emotions Emalia could not, and didn't try to descern.
"Bring your wrath, then. I did not hurt this child. I have done naught but seek to reveal the Truth to you, which you refuse to see."
The words were enough to halt Emalia for only a moment - until her eyes rested upon the decayed baby that Grobnak had placed in the chair. Rage like no other she'd known flooded her and she gripped Grobnak's arm with her fingers like talons. She did only what she knew to do - she pulled upon the world around her, channeling through her body the very essence of the planet, while forcing it in a torrent into Grobnak.
Emalia could barely see from her own eyes - the pain of the black makou being mixed with what she was caused only the color white to explode over and over in her vision. A scream broke from her throat as she gripped tighter - her entire body shuddering inwardly with pain that felt as though her flesh was being flayed from her skin by hooks. Only when the body before her began to fall did she relent enough to note the connection which made her kin to Grobnak's thoughts - and he to hers. Only as the ragnarok demon's wings melted into a puddle and dripped to the floor did she realize she had been wrong. Grobnak's life flickered out like a candle blown, and Emalia fell to the ground with him.
"Oh no..." The madness that capped Emalia's face broke into pure horror. "You... were... right... Oh Gods..." Feebly, Emalia tried to ignore the pain within her, to right the wrong, to find Grobnak's life and restore it - but it was too late for him - and for herself. She had fully let herself go to slay him, and with the pain digging itself into her - the attempt to pull life - to give life - Emalia's vison began to fade.
Nothing more could be done for Grobnak, and with the loss of all that held her together inside, Emalia collapsed onto Grobnak with a shuddering breath. It was her last. The remainder of her lifeforce shot from her, a brilliant explosion. When the guards finally entered, a body of a baby was in a chair, an orc laid upon the ground in a puddle of black ooze, and atop his chest was a woman in dirty white robes. All were dead.
To the North!
In the following two weeks, she'd heard nothing from Throm. Her heart had churned with anger - but he was no longer her fiance. He needed not to tell her anything. She kept herself busy calling Colin over to do the odd jobs that she needed done... thereby keeping Colin from losing his mind as she had long before.
When Throm had entered the cavern, telling them he was leaving for a while - Sanria finally reached her limits. "Weren't you doing that already?" she snapped. "Or is a while now... perhaps... months? years? decades? Perhaps now you're helping yourself."
"I'm afraid I've never been to where I'm going...though I don't know how much help to myself such a venture will be."
"Hmmm. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Throm. You always do. In the meantime, we'll find my daughter."
Colin looked at Sanria calmingly. "Sanria, please, let's give him a chance to explain." She listened only for as long as it took for Throm to get Colin's hopes up.
"Don't either of you understand?" she pled. "She isn't coming back... not until she's ready... and... that could be years. So we just have to... have to get used to it."
"You resign yourself too easily..." Throm said.
"Yes, and you disappear as frequently." Again Colin broke in, almost frantic. "You may have lost someone but he was dead, Emalia is not! And I cannot give up until she is back."
Sanria stood dumbfounded. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face. Colin seemed to know that his words cut deeply, but even his attempt to comfort wasn't enough. Sanria had broken at last. With a few hostile parting words with Throm, she mounted the steps, entered her house, and burst into tears.
Grabbing a pack, she began throwing meaningless items into it. Quill, parchment, and a spare robe. She didn't know until she had packed where she would head, but she knew why she was leaving. Long ago... well before she had children... she had gone north to freeze to death. It felt a perfect place now to return, and without Thasmudyan around, she could succeed and simply go to sleep.
With a man who vanished, a daughter who not only hated her - but was also gone, a brother missing, a son who loved her only with scattered attendence, a son-in-law that scowled at her every move - Sanria felt the course was the best. She walked out, apologizing to both Throm and Colin, and headed into the woods.
When Throm had entered the cavern, telling them he was leaving for a while - Sanria finally reached her limits. "Weren't you doing that already?" she snapped. "Or is a while now... perhaps... months? years? decades? Perhaps now you're helping yourself."
"I'm afraid I've never been to where I'm going...though I don't know how much help to myself such a venture will be."
"Hmmm. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Throm. You always do. In the meantime, we'll find my daughter."
Colin looked at Sanria calmingly. "Sanria, please, let's give him a chance to explain." She listened only for as long as it took for Throm to get Colin's hopes up.
"Don't either of you understand?" she pled. "She isn't coming back... not until she's ready... and... that could be years. So we just have to... have to get used to it."
"You resign yourself too easily..." Throm said.
"Yes, and you disappear as frequently." Again Colin broke in, almost frantic. "You may have lost someone but he was dead, Emalia is not! And I cannot give up until she is back."
Sanria stood dumbfounded. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face. Colin seemed to know that his words cut deeply, but even his attempt to comfort wasn't enough. Sanria had broken at last. With a few hostile parting words with Throm, she mounted the steps, entered her house, and burst into tears.
Grabbing a pack, she began throwing meaningless items into it. Quill, parchment, and a spare robe. She didn't know until she had packed where she would head, but she knew why she was leaving. Long ago... well before she had children... she had gone north to freeze to death. It felt a perfect place now to return, and without Thasmudyan around, she could succeed and simply go to sleep.
With a man who vanished, a daughter who not only hated her - but was also gone, a brother missing, a son who loved her only with scattered attendence, a son-in-law that scowled at her every move - Sanria felt the course was the best. She walked out, apologizing to both Throm and Colin, and headed into the woods.
The Spires of Morning
Emalia was happy to finally be back in the small cabin of the ship. Even though it had seemed like a long trip, it was soon enough to come to an end.
The next day and a half passed quickly and Emalia soon found herself staring at the gigantic walls that made the city of Waterdeep. She couldn't believe the myriad of people that bustled within and without the walls, carts, horses, guards, beggars, vendors, food, goods... colors and sounds were everywhere. She suddenly realized she was more than grateful to have people with her on this trip: she barely had the courage to step off of the docks.
Tamilyn finally finished her goodbyes, and lead both Emalia and Colin into the city. Emalia looked all around her, astounded at the magnitude of everything around her.
She wasn't disappointed when they stopped at last, in front of the temple devoted to Lathander.
The place was all that Tamilyn had said and more. Huge spires rose up from the ground and the multitude of buildings and priests left Emalia with her mouth, once again, agape. Never had she expected to find something so big. As she stood before it, she realized that she had no clue where to begin.
The next day and a half passed quickly and Emalia soon found herself staring at the gigantic walls that made the city of Waterdeep. She couldn't believe the myriad of people that bustled within and without the walls, carts, horses, guards, beggars, vendors, food, goods... colors and sounds were everywhere. She suddenly realized she was more than grateful to have people with her on this trip: she barely had the courage to step off of the docks.
Tamilyn finally finished her goodbyes, and lead both Emalia and Colin into the city. Emalia looked all around her, astounded at the magnitude of everything around her.
She wasn't disappointed when they stopped at last, in front of the temple devoted to Lathander.
The place was all that Tamilyn had said and more. Huge spires rose up from the ground and the multitude of buildings and priests left Emalia with her mouth, once again, agape. Never had she expected to find something so big. As she stood before it, she realized that she had no clue where to begin.
Walking upon the Road
"How can she be so blind as to not see it. There is no way he deserves her." Colin thought to himself as he continued his trek northward along the road leading from Westbridge.
He had just left Emalia sitting where he had come upon her along the side of the road. They had shared a long conversation. She told him all about her beliefs she shared with her Jihad brethren. Sure, Colin though it sounded like a big risk. On one hand, if they are right, then the vicious cycle could be broken and suffering ended... permanently. On the other, if they are wrong, unnecessary destruction would be wrought upon so many. And to top it all off. Colin didn't really believe in all that supernatural stuff anyway. If he couldn't touch, taste, hear, or smell it he just had a hard time believing it.
But maybe that was just his disconnection with magic that made it that way. Either way, he could still respect Emalia for her beliefs. After all, she is an intelligent woman, and her caring is so deep and genuine. But Hellstrom, apparently, could not and the pain that it caused Emalia was almost unbearable.
So there Emalia had sat, in the grassy dirt alongside the dusty road, sobbing into Colin's chest because of Hellstrom. Sure, Colin had welcomed the closeness it brought but the circumstances were all wrong. "She does not deserve the pain this is causing her and he has no right to do this to her. As a matter of fact, that man doesn't even deserve be around her. I could just..." Again, Colin's thoughts stopped there, immediately redirected back from crossing that line. "What she needs now is comfort and understanding and I can give that to her. She will see that she has made the wrong choice, and once the blindness that this crush has brought upon her has been lifted she will be able to see me. After all... "If things don't happen with Hellstrom... who knows what the future could hold."
He had just left Emalia sitting where he had come upon her along the side of the road. They had shared a long conversation. She told him all about her beliefs she shared with her Jihad brethren. Sure, Colin though it sounded like a big risk. On one hand, if they are right, then the vicious cycle could be broken and suffering ended... permanently. On the other, if they are wrong, unnecessary destruction would be wrought upon so many. And to top it all off. Colin didn't really believe in all that supernatural stuff anyway. If he couldn't touch, taste, hear, or smell it he just had a hard time believing it.
But maybe that was just his disconnection with magic that made it that way. Either way, he could still respect Emalia for her beliefs. After all, she is an intelligent woman, and her caring is so deep and genuine. But Hellstrom, apparently, could not and the pain that it caused Emalia was almost unbearable.
So there Emalia had sat, in the grassy dirt alongside the dusty road, sobbing into Colin's chest because of Hellstrom. Sure, Colin had welcomed the closeness it brought but the circumstances were all wrong. "She does not deserve the pain this is causing her and he has no right to do this to her. As a matter of fact, that man doesn't even deserve be around her. I could just..." Again, Colin's thoughts stopped there, immediately redirected back from crossing that line. "What she needs now is comfort and understanding and I can give that to her. She will see that she has made the wrong choice, and once the blindness that this crush has brought upon her has been lifted she will be able to see me. After all... "If things don't happen with Hellstrom... who knows what the future could hold."
Blessed Sleep
"Don't worry, I will get rid of them," Colin said with a growl. Emalia was left there upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the sound of a very angry small voice coming from outside of the cottage, but could not clearly make out anything. The worry tugged at her stomach but she was resigned to lay back and wait for Colin to return. It was the sound of small, but determined, footsteps that had her roll her eyes to the door, waiting to see who would enter.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Current Events
'More coffee?'
Throm looked up from the parchment he had been reading, smiled and shook his head. 'No thank you dear. Mystra knows I need it, however this day I prefer to keep my thoughts well contained.' The Guardian coffee shop waitress merely smiled and nodded. Having arrived earlier from his trip to the eastern continent, Throm had stopped into Guardian Hall to see to checking in on the family. Looking back at the letter he had been going over, he re-read aloud a portion of Hellstrom's leave of absence. 'Should I live...' His eyes flashed as he scrolled up to yet another bit of the letter. 'My presence may have lost this family the presence of one who is far more deserving of the title of Guardian than I...' His brow furrowing in thought, the wild haired man began to regret taking his own leave of absence after the Therru incident. Looking back upwards from his reading he asked the Guardian waitress, 'What in the Nine Hells is going on around here?' The Swiss Miss shrugged.
'There are many things which pass by my within these halls...some true...some not. But if you are looking for answers, you may do well to ask Elbryan, Emalia or even perhaps Jayden.' Confirming his thanks by patting the young woman on the shoulder, he stepped into the Guardian Sanctuary where among other people, Jayden sat relaxing within steaming pool which took up the greater part of the room. Smiling faintly, Throm approached from the front of the pool so as not to startle anyone. Handing Hellstrom's letter to Jayden, the smile upon his face faded but a little. Sitting next to the pool, he asked in a low tone. 'So...perhaps you might be able to enlighten me on the events transpiring as of late...'
Throm looked up from the parchment he had been reading, smiled and shook his head. 'No thank you dear. Mystra knows I need it, however this day I prefer to keep my thoughts well contained.' The Guardian coffee shop waitress merely smiled and nodded. Having arrived earlier from his trip to the eastern continent, Throm had stopped into Guardian Hall to see to checking in on the family. Looking back at the letter he had been going over, he re-read aloud a portion of Hellstrom's leave of absence. 'Should I live...' His eyes flashed as he scrolled up to yet another bit of the letter. 'My presence may have lost this family the presence of one who is far more deserving of the title of Guardian than I...' His brow furrowing in thought, the wild haired man began to regret taking his own leave of absence after the Therru incident. Looking back upwards from his reading he asked the Guardian waitress, 'What in the Nine Hells is going on around here?' The Swiss Miss shrugged.
'There are many things which pass by my within these halls...some true...some not. But if you are looking for answers, you may do well to ask Elbryan, Emalia or even perhaps Jayden.' Confirming his thanks by patting the young woman on the shoulder, he stepped into the Guardian Sanctuary where among other people, Jayden sat relaxing within steaming pool which took up the greater part of the room. Smiling faintly, Throm approached from the front of the pool so as not to startle anyone. Handing Hellstrom's letter to Jayden, the smile upon his face faded but a little. Sitting next to the pool, he asked in a low tone. 'So...perhaps you might be able to enlighten me on the events transpiring as of late...'
The Chase Leads On
Hellstrom was walking through Westbridge on his way back to the Guardians hall when he decided to take a break and rest on a bench in Market Square. The market was not terribly busy but there were a few people wandering around to the nearby shops collecting supplies and bartering for goods.
A call came over the telepathic link from Jayden asking Hellstrom to go to the coffee shop in Westbridge quickly. Thinking there was some kind of trouble Hellstrom freed his axe of its holder and ran for the coffee shop as he was not that far away. He opened the door swiftly and looked around the room. Seeing only the waitress, Jayden, and Emalia, he put his axe back in the loop and asked Jayden what he needed. The silence that followed was enough for Hellstrom to assume that it had something to do with the Jenovese so he added "If this is something to do with the Jenovese or Grobnak I will be leaving now, I cannot stay while her beliefs are being belittled." Emalia asked Hellstrom to stay, and at her request he did.
A loud Thump sounded from the roof of the Cafe, and the three looked up at the ceiling above them. "Where you followed?" Jayden asked Hellstrom quietly.
"I don’t believe so, but I was warned this would happen." Hellstrom replies just as quietly as a frown creases his face. "Its ok, I will leave, it is me he is after." After an argument about who was going to go and who was going to stay, Hellstrom throws the hood of his cloak up over his head and makes for the door. Emalia called for him to stop and he did turning his head slightly to the side hiding the hurt look on his face within the deep hood of his cloak. Emalia tried to apologize for hurting Hellstrom, but he knew in his heart that he was the one that was that was doing the hurting on this day. It would be better if he got away from the city. He would stop destroying his chances with Emalia and he would lead the spy away from Emalia and Jayden.
He pulled his green cloak tight around him as he departed the cafe and ran full sprint into the ancient elven forests north of Westbridge. After running some maneuvers trying to lose his pursuer Hellstrom finally approached the clearing in the wood where he exercised and practiced. In the middle of the clearing he pulled off his cloak and shirt. stuffing them into his backpack and began his exercises. At least he might as well provide a show if his pursuer was able to find him here. What Hellstrom had forgotten was he had no way to contact the Guardians without that insignia on his cloak.
A call came over the telepathic link from Jayden asking Hellstrom to go to the coffee shop in Westbridge quickly. Thinking there was some kind of trouble Hellstrom freed his axe of its holder and ran for the coffee shop as he was not that far away. He opened the door swiftly and looked around the room. Seeing only the waitress, Jayden, and Emalia, he put his axe back in the loop and asked Jayden what he needed. The silence that followed was enough for Hellstrom to assume that it had something to do with the Jenovese so he added "If this is something to do with the Jenovese or Grobnak I will be leaving now, I cannot stay while her beliefs are being belittled." Emalia asked Hellstrom to stay, and at her request he did.
A loud Thump sounded from the roof of the Cafe, and the three looked up at the ceiling above them. "Where you followed?" Jayden asked Hellstrom quietly.
"I don’t believe so, but I was warned this would happen." Hellstrom replies just as quietly as a frown creases his face. "Its ok, I will leave, it is me he is after." After an argument about who was going to go and who was going to stay, Hellstrom throws the hood of his cloak up over his head and makes for the door. Emalia called for him to stop and he did turning his head slightly to the side hiding the hurt look on his face within the deep hood of his cloak. Emalia tried to apologize for hurting Hellstrom, but he knew in his heart that he was the one that was that was doing the hurting on this day. It would be better if he got away from the city. He would stop destroying his chances with Emalia and he would lead the spy away from Emalia and Jayden.
He pulled his green cloak tight around him as he departed the cafe and ran full sprint into the ancient elven forests north of Westbridge. After running some maneuvers trying to lose his pursuer Hellstrom finally approached the clearing in the wood where he exercised and practiced. In the middle of the clearing he pulled off his cloak and shirt. stuffing them into his backpack and began his exercises. At least he might as well provide a show if his pursuer was able to find him here. What Hellstrom had forgotten was he had no way to contact the Guardians without that insignia on his cloak.
Time
Pride. It was the single word that kept coming back to Sanria, thudding through her mind in time with her beating heart. Her son, her boy, her Orn was becoming a man. Certainly, he still had missteps - his excitement bubbling over like a child, words hastily said without thought when he was nervous, but in the setting sun of the day, she had watched her little boy negotiate with an orc in a free, clear, unabashed way. He had negotiated with the skill of a man...
Sanria had finally taken him to the castle. Taken him to meet the Rilmani and any member of the clan that would meet with him. Her heart warmed at the awe on his face - at once so young and so grown. She had been alive for so many years, years beyond her natural time, but never felt so aged as when Orn, big and gangly, jogged to the edge of the floating island with the exuberance of a lab- orador puppy. "Mirin and Reggie should see this!" Her heart tightened. Al- ready the sphere of his life was moving away from her shadow, gaining a light of its own. Though Emalia and Tarran had grown up, this was the first time she got to see it without guilt, but bent with the weight of loss.
They had entered the castle and met with Jayden and Sanria felt sorrow flitter like a bird behind the cage of her bones. Orn seemed to absorb the tenderness Jayden showed like a sponge. A fatherliness that Colin had obliterated when he had killed Arlenia. Jayden had sensed the sorrow from both of them, and Sanria knew, deep down, she had to get Colin better. She had to try to help Orn look at his own father the way he had looked at Jayden.
Sanria had taken Orn to her office when the yell interrupted their discussion, "Who in there!!!!! Let Kronk in!!!!!!!" Then, leading her son, Sanria stepped out of the castle and face to face with a hulking orc. Fear ripped through her at the sight of the sword and the armor, and her son, her boy, her Orn had stepped in front of -her-. Somehow, time had passed. Her mind swung like a pendulum - boy, man, boy, man. Then she watched with awe as Orn laid down his staff and somehow befriended the orc named Kronk. He had negotiated with the skill of a man.
Sanria had finally taken him to the castle. Taken him to meet the Rilmani and any member of the clan that would meet with him. Her heart warmed at the awe on his face - at once so young and so grown. She had been alive for so many years, years beyond her natural time, but never felt so aged as when Orn, big and gangly, jogged to the edge of the floating island with the exuberance of a lab- orador puppy. "Mirin and Reggie should see this!" Her heart tightened. Al- ready the sphere of his life was moving away from her shadow, gaining a light of its own. Though Emalia and Tarran had grown up, this was the first time she got to see it without guilt, but bent with the weight of loss.
They had entered the castle and met with Jayden and Sanria felt sorrow flitter like a bird behind the cage of her bones. Orn seemed to absorb the tenderness Jayden showed like a sponge. A fatherliness that Colin had obliterated when he had killed Arlenia. Jayden had sensed the sorrow from both of them, and Sanria knew, deep down, she had to get Colin better. She had to try to help Orn look at his own father the way he had looked at Jayden.
Sanria had taken Orn to her office when the yell interrupted their discussion, "Who in there!!!!! Let Kronk in!!!!!!!" Then, leading her son, Sanria stepped out of the castle and face to face with a hulking orc. Fear ripped through her at the sight of the sword and the armor, and her son, her boy, her Orn had stepped in front of -her-. Somehow, time had passed. Her mind swung like a pendulum - boy, man, boy, man. Then she watched with awe as Orn laid down his staff and somehow befriended the orc named Kronk. He had negotiated with the skill of a man.
The Informant
Nyrul made his way to the Jihad Compound, in the debt of the night knowing this is where he could find Grobnak, to help aid him in the upcoming plans of his. Once to the Compound, Nyrul snuck into Grobnak's chambers, where Grobnak seemed to be studying some unknown things. Nyrul kept his face cloaked and stood in the door way to Grobnak's chamber, he spoke in his soft whisperers tone "Sir..." Grobnak seemed taken off guard a bit, then replied "Greetings Brother." Nyrul took a steep bow before Grobnak, and it was returned.
Nyrul began to tell Grobnak of his recent findings on this unknown man who had been speaking to Emalia just a short time after Grobnak had spoken with her. Nyrul spoke of everything, even his intentions of wanting to kill this man who was trying to stand in Jihad's path.
After everything was explained Grobnak gave Nyrul the order to find this unknown man that had been speaking with Emalia, and track him find out everything about him, his next of kin mainly, and then report back. Nyrul was a little distraught when what he wanted to do was shot down by Grobnak, but he understood fully what needed to be done.
Grobnak then made plans to go and see Emalia right away, whilst Nyrul began his devious plan to lure Hellstrom into speaking of anything he loved dearly, so Nyrul could carry out Grobnak's plan to convert them or destroy them.....Nyrul slipped back into the night and made his way back to Westbridge.
Nyrul began to tell Grobnak of his recent findings on this unknown man who had been speaking to Emalia just a short time after Grobnak had spoken with her. Nyrul spoke of everything, even his intentions of wanting to kill this man who was trying to stand in Jihad's path.
After everything was explained Grobnak gave Nyrul the order to find this unknown man that had been speaking with Emalia, and track him find out everything about him, his next of kin mainly, and then report back. Nyrul was a little distraught when what he wanted to do was shot down by Grobnak, but he understood fully what needed to be done.
Grobnak then made plans to go and see Emalia right away, whilst Nyrul began his devious plan to lure Hellstrom into speaking of anything he loved dearly, so Nyrul could carry out Grobnak's plan to convert them or destroy them.....Nyrul slipped back into the night and made his way back to Westbridge.
Pressure
Colin was in disbelief of what Emalia was being put through as he carried her unconsious body up to her bedroom. For how much everyone kept saying that they were talking to her for her own good the toll it was taking on her, and now their unborn child, was very disturbing.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
Final Words
Sanria had gone as far north as she could. Her throat raw from breathing in the freeing air. The tears on her cheeks grew icy before they had even coursed their way down her face, leaving a dried trail of saltwater. She couldn't feel her feet. She couldn't feel her hands. She couldn't feel anything but the void at the center of her chest that spread from her heart and into the entirety of her being. She stumbled and fell into the snow on her hands and knees, her palms reddening with the cold. Karen, the help's voice rang in her mind, 'I'm sorry, M'lady... we found him by the fire... he's dead.'
Sanria let out a roar of anguish and sat on her heels. She had lost Emalia. She had lost touch with Tarran. She had lost two children that never even made it to birth. She had lost her grasp on a realm that made everything okay. She had barely kept herself together. She had dared hope that the night spent by the fire with Throm was the beginning of what should have been and what finally would be. She had no idea that it would be the last time she'd see him alive.
Sanria slid from her heels and sat in the frigid snow absolutely broken. She wanted to tear out the thick feeling that curled in her chest and throw it away, but she couldn't grasp it. The pain was beyond her reckoning - as was everything else. She let out a gut wrenching howl and gripped her head in her hands. She screamed out his name, the word billowing steam from her mouth. There would be no Bastion in the skies to save her this time. There would be no rescue. There would never be.
Sanria opened her pack, barely able to see for the tears that continually welled up in her eyes. She found what she sought, and could barely grip the handle of the dagger, so numb were her fingers. She stared for a long time at the glinting metal, the steel shining white in reflection of the ground and the overcast skies. Snow began to drift down around her in thick, lazy flakes. She looked skyward and the flakes caught on her eyelashes and face, staying whole and remaining.
A flash of green eyes aglow. A long stretching memory of time in the sand, time in a garden, cups of tea. As if guided, the blade slid between Sanria's ribs and into her heart. The pain was excruciating, blinding, then - exquisite... the tea was exquisite. There was no more cold, no more pain. Sanria was sitting in front of a fire and beside her was the one being she could never attain. Throm smiled back at her, his eyes sparkling. She took his hand as her body fell into the snow. She leaned over and gave him a kiss as the blood left her body to turn the snow crimson. She whispered the words, "I love you," before the image faded and Sanria's life parted ways with Sanria's body.
Sanria let out a roar of anguish and sat on her heels. She had lost Emalia. She had lost touch with Tarran. She had lost two children that never even made it to birth. She had lost her grasp on a realm that made everything okay. She had barely kept herself together. She had dared hope that the night spent by the fire with Throm was the beginning of what should have been and what finally would be. She had no idea that it would be the last time she'd see him alive.
Sanria slid from her heels and sat in the frigid snow absolutely broken. She wanted to tear out the thick feeling that curled in her chest and throw it away, but she couldn't grasp it. The pain was beyond her reckoning - as was everything else. She let out a gut wrenching howl and gripped her head in her hands. She screamed out his name, the word billowing steam from her mouth. There would be no Bastion in the skies to save her this time. There would be no rescue. There would never be.
Sanria opened her pack, barely able to see for the tears that continually welled up in her eyes. She found what she sought, and could barely grip the handle of the dagger, so numb were her fingers. She stared for a long time at the glinting metal, the steel shining white in reflection of the ground and the overcast skies. Snow began to drift down around her in thick, lazy flakes. She looked skyward and the flakes caught on her eyelashes and face, staying whole and remaining.
A flash of green eyes aglow. A long stretching memory of time in the sand, time in a garden, cups of tea. As if guided, the blade slid between Sanria's ribs and into her heart. The pain was excruciating, blinding, then - exquisite... the tea was exquisite. There was no more cold, no more pain. Sanria was sitting in front of a fire and beside her was the one being she could never attain. Throm smiled back at her, his eyes sparkling. She took his hand as her body fell into the snow. She leaned over and gave him a kiss as the blood left her body to turn the snow crimson. She whispered the words, "I love you," before the image faded and Sanria's life parted ways with Sanria's body.
Heart In Pieces
Sanria wandered Westbridge, looking official, all the while fearing the worst. She tried to keep her thoughts on her daughter, but they kept floating back to the man in white who she loved. She paced in Festival Square, working herself up until she could do nothing but play ring-around-the-fountain while biting her nails.
The more she thought about it, the more she began to panic. The more she panicked, the harder it was for her to even breathe. She would settle it. She would go home. Emalia would be fine, her clan always said she would, they would look after her.
Her body aging as it was, Sanria took the magical means of transportation and willed herself into her house. "Thasmudyan?" she called. "Sandorin?" No answer assured her that, as always seemed to be the case whenever Emalia wasn't there, she was alone.
Sanria moved through the cavern, up the familiar stairs to her bedroom. At the least, while she was here, she'd make sure she was clean. As she dropped her cloak onto the floor she noticed a note sitting on the stand.
The steady, slanting hand that contained with it so much authority stared back at her. 'Oh no... this can't be good.' Sanria sat on the bed, running a finger over the black ink and with her heart straining to leap from her chest, she unfolded the note and began to read. Her heart slowly sank as her brown eyes, filling with the liquid of pain, scanned the slanted scrawl. The tears slowly meandered down her face, she didn't even notice that the beautifully penned note had fallen to the floor.
He was brought back for a purpose. He had something that needed to be done. He had to go, to traverse the realms to find out what it was. She had to go on, he had said. Had to let life survive, not to wait for his return. After 18 years, and getting her true love back, she got the closure she never had through all those years - but it came at the expense of her happily ever after.
The more she thought about it, the more she began to panic. The more she panicked, the harder it was for her to even breathe. She would settle it. She would go home. Emalia would be fine, her clan always said she would, they would look after her.
Her body aging as it was, Sanria took the magical means of transportation and willed herself into her house. "Thasmudyan?" she called. "Sandorin?" No answer assured her that, as always seemed to be the case whenever Emalia wasn't there, she was alone.
Sanria moved through the cavern, up the familiar stairs to her bedroom. At the least, while she was here, she'd make sure she was clean. As she dropped her cloak onto the floor she noticed a note sitting on the stand.
The steady, slanting hand that contained with it so much authority stared back at her. 'Oh no... this can't be good.' Sanria sat on the bed, running a finger over the black ink and with her heart straining to leap from her chest, she unfolded the note and began to read. Her heart slowly sank as her brown eyes, filling with the liquid of pain, scanned the slanted scrawl. The tears slowly meandered down her face, she didn't even notice that the beautifully penned note had fallen to the floor.
He was brought back for a purpose. He had something that needed to be done. He had to go, to traverse the realms to find out what it was. She had to go on, he had said. Had to let life survive, not to wait for his return. After 18 years, and getting her true love back, she got the closure she never had through all those years - but it came at the expense of her happily ever after.
Strange Dreams (1-2)
Colin lay in bed with Emalia cuddled in his arms. They had retired to the bedroom for the purpose of taking a nap, but of course as newlyweds there are certain things that normally happen when you retire to a bedroom. Now he found himself as content as could be, his love in his arms. He peacefully closed his eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.
He soon found himself in a lush, beautiful paradise. He gazed about him at the wondrous, invigorating colors which showed this place to be more than than real. His eyes finally fell upon an individual who stood looking like a cancer upon this world. An ancient-looking figure, shrouded in black and white, standing in stark contrast to the vibrance surrounding.Colin narrowed his gaze. "Who are you? Where is this?"
"I have many names, Faithless."
Faithless. Colin's mood immediately soured. It seemed whenever he heard that good things never followed. "So you're one of them."
"Already you scorn me. I come to offer you a chance at peace. You have a child coming into the world, do you not?"
Colin was amazed how in such few sentences it was possible for the conversation to go so badly so quickly. "Yes... but that need not intrest you. I have no need of peace."
Apparently Colin's disdain was obvious. "I seem to be poorly versed in courtesy, by your countenance. Please forgive me. I have been forced to sleep for so very long. I do not see much of the outside world. I live in my dreams, as you can see, and dream of life. I have watched your journey to awaken me, and I'd like to offer you a chance to not lose what you hold dear to do so."
So far, Colin was allowing this man to speak in silence but his patience was wearing. "Awaken you? I don't know who you are."
The man looked about, obviously pleased. "Yes. That is as the Overlord would wish it. I am Halethiel Usurper. Some have called me an Apprentice, and others have assigned me a darker moniker. What you see before you is the world as it once was, milennia ago."
Colin looked upon Halethiel with skepticism. "You are telling me that you are "the" Apprentice?"
"THE Apprentice? There are many apprentices."
Colin sighed frustratedly. "The one the Jihad seek to return."
"I do not know of the Jihad."
Colin could see this was quickly going nowhere. "Nevermind. So what do you want with me?"
"I wish to offer you solace... here. That you may raise your child in a safe place."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need an offer of safety from you. My family is fine and I would appreciate you staying away from them."
There was a pause as Haelthiel looked Colin over before speaking once more. "Who is it that you have brought with you?"
Colin looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, you are the one who brought me here."
Halethiel lifted both hands to the air. The skies quickly darkened and thunder cracked. A beam of solid blackness streaked from the sky to shine directly down upon Colin. Halethiel's gaze then shifted from Colin's face to a point slightly over his shoulder. "State your name and purpose, creature."
Colin jumped when he heard a raspy, haunting voice which eminated from right behind him respond. "I am Visha and he is but a fragment." Colin spun around to find himself face to face with his own shadow.
"A fragment of what?"
"Of me... one I cannot be rid of." Colin looked from the shadow to Halethiel. Obviously he was creating this apparition for some purpose but the point escaped Colin. "What are you doing?"
"I am speaking to your guest. As you wish, however." By this time Colin's thin patience was almost gone. He rolled his eyes in irritation. "This is ridiculuos."
"Since I cannot grant your request and continue this conversation, I will make you comfortable for your stay." With a flick of Haelthiel's wrist Colin suddenly found himself surrounded by the walls of a cottage which seemed to appear from nowhere. The furnishings were quite luxurious, but upon quick review there was a distinct lack of exits. Colin could only sat in a chair and wait for this strange dream to end.
He soon found himself in a lush, beautiful paradise. He gazed about him at the wondrous, invigorating colors which showed this place to be more than than real. His eyes finally fell upon an individual who stood looking like a cancer upon this world. An ancient-looking figure, shrouded in black and white, standing in stark contrast to the vibrance surrounding.Colin narrowed his gaze. "Who are you? Where is this?"
"I have many names, Faithless."
Faithless. Colin's mood immediately soured. It seemed whenever he heard that good things never followed. "So you're one of them."
"Already you scorn me. I come to offer you a chance at peace. You have a child coming into the world, do you not?"
Colin was amazed how in such few sentences it was possible for the conversation to go so badly so quickly. "Yes... but that need not intrest you. I have no need of peace."
Apparently Colin's disdain was obvious. "I seem to be poorly versed in courtesy, by your countenance. Please forgive me. I have been forced to sleep for so very long. I do not see much of the outside world. I live in my dreams, as you can see, and dream of life. I have watched your journey to awaken me, and I'd like to offer you a chance to not lose what you hold dear to do so."
So far, Colin was allowing this man to speak in silence but his patience was wearing. "Awaken you? I don't know who you are."
The man looked about, obviously pleased. "Yes. That is as the Overlord would wish it. I am Halethiel Usurper. Some have called me an Apprentice, and others have assigned me a darker moniker. What you see before you is the world as it once was, milennia ago."
Colin looked upon Halethiel with skepticism. "You are telling me that you are "the" Apprentice?"
"THE Apprentice? There are many apprentices."
Colin sighed frustratedly. "The one the Jihad seek to return."
"I do not know of the Jihad."
Colin could see this was quickly going nowhere. "Nevermind. So what do you want with me?"
"I wish to offer you solace... here. That you may raise your child in a safe place."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need an offer of safety from you. My family is fine and I would appreciate you staying away from them."
There was a pause as Haelthiel looked Colin over before speaking once more. "Who is it that you have brought with you?"
Colin looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, you are the one who brought me here."
Halethiel lifted both hands to the air. The skies quickly darkened and thunder cracked. A beam of solid blackness streaked from the sky to shine directly down upon Colin. Halethiel's gaze then shifted from Colin's face to a point slightly over his shoulder. "State your name and purpose, creature."
Colin jumped when he heard a raspy, haunting voice which eminated from right behind him respond. "I am Visha and he is but a fragment." Colin spun around to find himself face to face with his own shadow.
"A fragment of what?"
"Of me... one I cannot be rid of." Colin looked from the shadow to Halethiel. Obviously he was creating this apparition for some purpose but the point escaped Colin. "What are you doing?"
"I am speaking to your guest. As you wish, however." By this time Colin's thin patience was almost gone. He rolled his eyes in irritation. "This is ridiculuos."
"Since I cannot grant your request and continue this conversation, I will make you comfortable for your stay." With a flick of Haelthiel's wrist Colin suddenly found himself surrounded by the walls of a cottage which seemed to appear from nowhere. The furnishings were quite luxurious, but upon quick review there was a distinct lack of exits. Colin could only sat in a chair and wait for this strange dream to end.
Trials
Emalia stared at the flyer with her mouth hanging open. She honestly didn't think the day could have gotten any worse, but it just did.
"Have You Seen Me? Gone from home around three weeks ago, Emalia Haverland still hasn't returned. She is around 5'7" with very long brown hair and is usually dressed in white. She is of a rather pale complexion, slender, and has brown eyes. If seen, please tell her that her mother is seeking her desperately. If this is Emalia, please, come home!"
Now that she focused her eyes, she could see hundreds of the papers on the sides of stalls, buildings, even littering the ground. The calm coming from her now nearly dropped her to her knees with weariness. She didn't really know what was inside her that made her this way, it just was and always was. If she was worried, anxious, angry, fearful, she suddenly found herself calm, and after it subsided, she tried her best to hide the fact that she was just exhausted. There was no one to ask except her father, and she couldn't seek him out. She was just too afraid, and too proud. Now this.
Emalia took a deep breath, collecting herself enough to rip the flyer from the wall. She went along the street, gathering all the flyers she could, hoping no one in her clan had seen them, no one that she knew had seen them, no one had seen them. Her hands were full when she reached a busier part of Market Square. "Hey, you Emalia?"
"Yes?" "Your mom is looking for you." "Ah, yes. Many thanks." "Hey, aren't you that girl?" "Yes... I know. Many thanks." "Oh! You know your mom is looking for you, judging from the pile of papers in your hands." "Yes, Many thanks."
If there was a better way of mortification, Emalia didn't know of it. She had given up reading the tomes of Cyric - luckily Hellstrom had explained to her the danger of the Cyrinishad before she had actually gotten to it. She hated to think that she would have been lost to her entire Guardian family and it shamed her deeply to think of how close she came. Then she ran into some man with a whip who spoke of shadows, slavery, Shar, and high blood - accusing her of being weak and weak minded for choosing not to endure whatever trials he thought testament to strength. Then there was Colin, who not only scared her with his enormity, but scared her more with his casual joking bride comment - which she really didn't see as much of a joke as she saw him quite a bit more frequently.
All this in one day...
Emalia collected all the parchments she could find as she took a last look up and down the streets of Westbridge. She hoped that everything was found and in her possession when she vanished to her room. The parchments rained down as Emalia threw them to the floor. She threw herself on the bed and for the first time she had known herself to - she cried. She at long last fell asleep, hoping this might be the last time she had to feel confusion, and that no one would ever know she had.
"Have You Seen Me? Gone from home around three weeks ago, Emalia Haverland still hasn't returned. She is around 5'7" with very long brown hair and is usually dressed in white. She is of a rather pale complexion, slender, and has brown eyes. If seen, please tell her that her mother is seeking her desperately. If this is Emalia, please, come home!"
Now that she focused her eyes, she could see hundreds of the papers on the sides of stalls, buildings, even littering the ground. The calm coming from her now nearly dropped her to her knees with weariness. She didn't really know what was inside her that made her this way, it just was and always was. If she was worried, anxious, angry, fearful, she suddenly found herself calm, and after it subsided, she tried her best to hide the fact that she was just exhausted. There was no one to ask except her father, and she couldn't seek him out. She was just too afraid, and too proud. Now this.
Emalia took a deep breath, collecting herself enough to rip the flyer from the wall. She went along the street, gathering all the flyers she could, hoping no one in her clan had seen them, no one that she knew had seen them, no one had seen them. Her hands were full when she reached a busier part of Market Square. "Hey, you Emalia?"
"Yes?" "Your mom is looking for you." "Ah, yes. Many thanks." "Hey, aren't you that girl?" "Yes... I know. Many thanks." "Oh! You know your mom is looking for you, judging from the pile of papers in your hands." "Yes, Many thanks."
If there was a better way of mortification, Emalia didn't know of it. She had given up reading the tomes of Cyric - luckily Hellstrom had explained to her the danger of the Cyrinishad before she had actually gotten to it. She hated to think that she would have been lost to her entire Guardian family and it shamed her deeply to think of how close she came. Then she ran into some man with a whip who spoke of shadows, slavery, Shar, and high blood - accusing her of being weak and weak minded for choosing not to endure whatever trials he thought testament to strength. Then there was Colin, who not only scared her with his enormity, but scared her more with his casual joking bride comment - which she really didn't see as much of a joke as she saw him quite a bit more frequently.
All this in one day...
Emalia collected all the parchments she could find as she took a last look up and down the streets of Westbridge. She hoped that everything was found and in her possession when she vanished to her room. The parchments rained down as Emalia threw them to the floor. She threw herself on the bed and for the first time she had known herself to - she cried. She at long last fell asleep, hoping this might be the last time she had to feel confusion, and that no one would ever know she had.
Lonely Thoughts
"Stupid... how could I be so stupid." Colin thought to himself as he sat in the empty parlor room of the Crossroad's Tavern moments after Emalia had left. "At this rate she is never going to want to be around me. It would be so easy to just..." Colin's thoughts cut short there as if running headlong into an impenetrable barrier. "I just have to be happy with what I have, no matter how hard it might be. But her touch..."
Here his thoughts continued unbridled. Oh yes, her touch. The warmth, the soothing calm, the longing it stirred within him, and the tinge of pain that came along with it. But she could not know. No matter what, she could not know. He will be her friend and do his best to forget her words that are destined to repeat themselves over and over in the back of his mind: "Besides. If things don't happen with Hellstrom... who knows what the future could hold."
Here his thoughts continued unbridled. Oh yes, her touch. The warmth, the soothing calm, the longing it stirred within him, and the tinge of pain that came along with it. But she could not know. No matter what, she could not know. He will be her friend and do his best to forget her words that are destined to repeat themselves over and over in the back of his mind: "Besides. If things don't happen with Hellstrom... who knows what the future could hold."
Meeting with Emalia
Sanria slunk down into the comfortable chair in her library and propped her feet up on the table. It had been a very, very, very long time since she had seen Throm - in fact, the last time she had seen him was as she fell asleep in his arms at the Paradise Island Hotel. The thought brought a blushing smile to her lips, and she rested her book on her lap, flipping open the pages.
Boring botany. It's what she had told Lithanus today when she met him. She wasn't sure what to make of the boy. Throm's son didn't much take after his father in the physical sense, which made sense of course, since his mother was elven. White hair to boot... the only feature she knew was the green eyes. Of course it set her to missing Throm even more, so when the boy gave such a cool response to her questions regarding his father, she couldn't help but feel her ire rising. It wouldn't do, however, to pry in family affairs. After all, she had her own to worry about. Still, she wondered what "mess" Lithanus knew Throm had gotten himself into, and worried for Throm's safety.
Her thoughts wandered over where Throm could be when a heavy knock was heard on the library door. Sanria glanced over and a wave of elation traveled through her like a spark. Emalia had come home. "Emalia!"
"Hello mother."
Sanria rose to her feet, snatching Emalia in a deep embrace. Tears sprang to her eyes for no apparent reason, and she stood back finally, gripping Emalia on the shoulders. "Good heavens, where have you been?"
"It's a rather long story."
"I suppose so! You look well... oh so much like your father."
"I finally talked to him."
"I see... what did he have to say?"
"Well, he talked to me about my powers and such... there's so much to tell."
Mother and daughter sat down at the table, Sanria clutched Emalia's hand in her own as if clinging to the hope she wouldn't vanish. There they sat for hours as Sanria listened to her daughter covering the journey, her new friends, her new "interest," and the fact that Thasmudyan was staying with her. The idea of Thasmudyan being in her daughter's home, after having been staying in temples right in Westbridge stung her, but she didn't dare let on in front of Emalia. "It sounds as though you've had quite a time."
"I still have more to do."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm only in the city until Nephesh heals completely. Then, we are going to seek out the Balefire mountains... wherever that is."
"I wouldn't know," Sanria said with caution, "but perhaps it might be better for you to stay. I wouldn't want something to happen to you, and I'm sure the Guardian's wouldn't either."
"Mother," Emalia sighed, "I know you're worried, but I'm a grown woman now."
The idea of her daughter being an adult had certainly crossed Sanria's mind on more than one occasion, but still, her instinct to protect was overwhelming. Only by sheer force of her will could she keep from lecturing her daughter. "I know. I know."
"Besides... I have to do this. At the very least, I'm able to keep people from worrying about me. Sir Throm won't have to come looking for you to give you updates."
"Throm was here? You... were here?"
Sanria watched the red creep into her daughter's face. "Yeah. I brought a friend by to show him the house and Sir Throm ended up here while we were here. I assured him I was alright and would let you know I was ok... once I worked up the nerve. He was oddly insistent about talking to you personally."
"Emalia... there is something you should know."
"What?"
"Well, your father and I aren't together anymore..."
"I thought that might be the case... he mentioned something about you two not being the same."
"And... on some level it's true. Things weren't going the way we thought they would. So, I started talking to Throm."
"He is a good person to speak to, isn't he?"
"Yes, but..."
Sanria took in a deep breath as realization dawned on Emalia's face. "You mean... you and Sir Throm?" Emalia asked.
"Well, yes. Though at the current time it's nothing more than-"
"Than the same thing with Colin and I. I get it."
"I'm sorry, Emalia."
"So life goes. I just feel a little foolish in all of this."
"No need to feel that way. It is how life goes in this case. I hope you're not upset."
"No, I'm just... nothing is as it seems, mother. I came here in the hopes that things would maybe, just maybe, be the same but... they aren't. They aren't the same anywhere."
It hurt to see her daughter so distraught, but Sanria knew it was better to let everything out than to hide anything. At least now, she wouldn't be so separate from her daughter. Emalia would come visit her again, and she had her word. The moon was rising as Emalia walked away and Sanria closed the front door. Thoughts were swimming through her head - old thoughts, new thoughts, and the thoughts of where her daughter's life would take her next.
Boring botany. It's what she had told Lithanus today when she met him. She wasn't sure what to make of the boy. Throm's son didn't much take after his father in the physical sense, which made sense of course, since his mother was elven. White hair to boot... the only feature she knew was the green eyes. Of course it set her to missing Throm even more, so when the boy gave such a cool response to her questions regarding his father, she couldn't help but feel her ire rising. It wouldn't do, however, to pry in family affairs. After all, she had her own to worry about. Still, she wondered what "mess" Lithanus knew Throm had gotten himself into, and worried for Throm's safety.
Her thoughts wandered over where Throm could be when a heavy knock was heard on the library door. Sanria glanced over and a wave of elation traveled through her like a spark. Emalia had come home. "Emalia!"
"Hello mother."
Sanria rose to her feet, snatching Emalia in a deep embrace. Tears sprang to her eyes for no apparent reason, and she stood back finally, gripping Emalia on the shoulders. "Good heavens, where have you been?"
"It's a rather long story."
"I suppose so! You look well... oh so much like your father."
"I finally talked to him."
"I see... what did he have to say?"
"Well, he talked to me about my powers and such... there's so much to tell."
Mother and daughter sat down at the table, Sanria clutched Emalia's hand in her own as if clinging to the hope she wouldn't vanish. There they sat for hours as Sanria listened to her daughter covering the journey, her new friends, her new "interest," and the fact that Thasmudyan was staying with her. The idea of Thasmudyan being in her daughter's home, after having been staying in temples right in Westbridge stung her, but she didn't dare let on in front of Emalia. "It sounds as though you've had quite a time."
"I still have more to do."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm only in the city until Nephesh heals completely. Then, we are going to seek out the Balefire mountains... wherever that is."
"I wouldn't know," Sanria said with caution, "but perhaps it might be better for you to stay. I wouldn't want something to happen to you, and I'm sure the Guardian's wouldn't either."
"Mother," Emalia sighed, "I know you're worried, but I'm a grown woman now."
The idea of her daughter being an adult had certainly crossed Sanria's mind on more than one occasion, but still, her instinct to protect was overwhelming. Only by sheer force of her will could she keep from lecturing her daughter. "I know. I know."
"Besides... I have to do this. At the very least, I'm able to keep people from worrying about me. Sir Throm won't have to come looking for you to give you updates."
"Throm was here? You... were here?"
Sanria watched the red creep into her daughter's face. "Yeah. I brought a friend by to show him the house and Sir Throm ended up here while we were here. I assured him I was alright and would let you know I was ok... once I worked up the nerve. He was oddly insistent about talking to you personally."
"Emalia... there is something you should know."
"What?"
"Well, your father and I aren't together anymore..."
"I thought that might be the case... he mentioned something about you two not being the same."
"And... on some level it's true. Things weren't going the way we thought they would. So, I started talking to Throm."
"He is a good person to speak to, isn't he?"
"Yes, but..."
Sanria took in a deep breath as realization dawned on Emalia's face. "You mean... you and Sir Throm?" Emalia asked.
"Well, yes. Though at the current time it's nothing more than-"
"Than the same thing with Colin and I. I get it."
"I'm sorry, Emalia."
"So life goes. I just feel a little foolish in all of this."
"No need to feel that way. It is how life goes in this case. I hope you're not upset."
"No, I'm just... nothing is as it seems, mother. I came here in the hopes that things would maybe, just maybe, be the same but... they aren't. They aren't the same anywhere."
It hurt to see her daughter so distraught, but Sanria knew it was better to let everything out than to hide anything. At least now, she wouldn't be so separate from her daughter. Emalia would come visit her again, and she had her word. The moon was rising as Emalia walked away and Sanria closed the front door. Thoughts were swimming through her head - old thoughts, new thoughts, and the thoughts of where her daughter's life would take her next.
Hormonal Imbalances
Emalia sat on the edge of the bed with her tears rolling down her cheeks. Once again she had completely made a fool of herself, and while the rest of the realms knew pregnancy could make a woman crazy, no one left a memo for Emalia. All she knew is that when Throm showed up before dawn saying something was wrong with her, then not really believing her when she said she was fine - the anger she had over his interference with her parent's "happily ever after" and his doubt of her understanding of herself boiled over.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Chance Meeting
Emalia sat in the same place she had when Colin left, staring to the north. She could have blamed her lack of movement on the fact that her body was so weak, it was ready to fail her - but that would not have been the full truth, nor the true reason... she was afraid.
I just won't go. Emalia stood up and started back into the gates of Westbridge, but the idea kept occurring to her, 'If I really care for him, I'll go up there and do what I said I would.' She paced round and round inside the gates which seemed to rather irritate the guards. It wasn't until she bumped square into someone that she stopped.
Today wasn't going to be her day. At all. After everyone had told her he wasn't coming back, all the voices seeming to sing in chorus from her mind that the man didn't want her obviously, and that he had gone away to be clear of her: Melchior stood before her like a phantom in the flesh.
She noted immediately his eyes - how different they were, and how much better he carried himself. He was no longer a dirty drunkard, but a man with some sort of purpose in his life. Emalia's face went even more pale than it normally was and a tremor, well hidden, ran through her.
It's never easy to tell someone, your first crush no less, that you are involved with someone else. It was the very same here as she stammered out the fact that she had moved on. Emalia assured Melchior that she had been nothing but honest with her feelings, and that she had not done anything with any other but be interested.
Everything seemed to go over well, for the most part. Emalia examined some peculiar wounds on Melchior's arm, then sought to speak to him regarding the Jenovese and the Jihad. Her words were immediately shut down, and when Melchior's questions on the earnestness in her heart began - she had no true answers.
For just a moment in time, Emalia gave up on the discussion of Faith to say goodbye to her friend. "Perhaps we shall meet again." "There is no perhaps if I've anything to do with it."
Emalia squeezed Melchior in her arms and turned to walk away, but before she could get far, Melchior made her another promise after a kiss to her forehead in a quiet voice, "We WILL see each other again. I cannot let go the person who saved me."
Emalia smiled, revolving the words in her mind, "the person who saved me." 'Yes.' she thought. 'I did help someone... and I have to help them all. I have to help them... all.' The two parted at last, Melchior off to his journey, and Emalia finally heading through the northern gates of the city as she trudged to hers.
I just won't go. Emalia stood up and started back into the gates of Westbridge, but the idea kept occurring to her, 'If I really care for him, I'll go up there and do what I said I would.' She paced round and round inside the gates which seemed to rather irritate the guards. It wasn't until she bumped square into someone that she stopped.
Today wasn't going to be her day. At all. After everyone had told her he wasn't coming back, all the voices seeming to sing in chorus from her mind that the man didn't want her obviously, and that he had gone away to be clear of her: Melchior stood before her like a phantom in the flesh.
She noted immediately his eyes - how different they were, and how much better he carried himself. He was no longer a dirty drunkard, but a man with some sort of purpose in his life. Emalia's face went even more pale than it normally was and a tremor, well hidden, ran through her.
It's never easy to tell someone, your first crush no less, that you are involved with someone else. It was the very same here as she stammered out the fact that she had moved on. Emalia assured Melchior that she had been nothing but honest with her feelings, and that she had not done anything with any other but be interested.
Everything seemed to go over well, for the most part. Emalia examined some peculiar wounds on Melchior's arm, then sought to speak to him regarding the Jenovese and the Jihad. Her words were immediately shut down, and when Melchior's questions on the earnestness in her heart began - she had no true answers.
For just a moment in time, Emalia gave up on the discussion of Faith to say goodbye to her friend. "Perhaps we shall meet again." "There is no perhaps if I've anything to do with it."
Emalia squeezed Melchior in her arms and turned to walk away, but before she could get far, Melchior made her another promise after a kiss to her forehead in a quiet voice, "We WILL see each other again. I cannot let go the person who saved me."
Emalia smiled, revolving the words in her mind, "the person who saved me." 'Yes.' she thought. 'I did help someone... and I have to help them all. I have to help them... all.' The two parted at last, Melchior off to his journey, and Emalia finally heading through the northern gates of the city as she trudged to hers.
My Own Worst Enemy
“Not again." Colin thought to himself. Here he stood in a stairwell of the temple. Alone. Emalia had just stormed off, obviously angry with him for how he had acted when he found her talking to a very shady looking character by the name of Xarkuss.
"Just what exactly am I doing here anyway?" Colin asked himself; but he knew the answer. When they were alone together, things were so much better. The time in her cabin on the sailing vessel which brought them here. The other night in Emalia's chamber in the temple. Ah, that night. It had remained in the forefront of his mind ever since. They had been so close, and how Colin had wanted to take that step. To just lean down and draw her lips to his. To take her fully into his arms and become one. Yet he couldn't. What if she rejected him? He did not want to jeopardize the closeness that had just begin to grow between them.
Yet here he was, standing by himself in the cold stone stairwell. It was just when they were around these "believers" that seemed to be popping out of nowhere. He just didn't trust them. The way that they sucked Emalia in. She was too vulnerable, they could hurt her too easily. And then the fact that each of them seemed to be trying to turn her away from him, looking upon him like an intruding outsider. His behavior was only pushing Emalia away but he just couldn't help himself. Apparently thoughts of distrust and jealousy still had a place within him. "Damn Sandorin, who qualified you to decide..." Colin's thoughts immediately ricocheted off in another direction, "I'm going to have to talk to her, and I'm going to have to change this. Otherwise I'm going to lose her."
Colin took a deep breath, straightened himself, and moved on.
"Just what exactly am I doing here anyway?" Colin asked himself; but he knew the answer. When they were alone together, things were so much better. The time in her cabin on the sailing vessel which brought them here. The other night in Emalia's chamber in the temple. Ah, that night. It had remained in the forefront of his mind ever since. They had been so close, and how Colin had wanted to take that step. To just lean down and draw her lips to his. To take her fully into his arms and become one. Yet he couldn't. What if she rejected him? He did not want to jeopardize the closeness that had just begin to grow between them.
Yet here he was, standing by himself in the cold stone stairwell. It was just when they were around these "believers" that seemed to be popping out of nowhere. He just didn't trust them. The way that they sucked Emalia in. She was too vulnerable, they could hurt her too easily. And then the fact that each of them seemed to be trying to turn her away from him, looking upon him like an intruding outsider. His behavior was only pushing Emalia away but he just couldn't help himself. Apparently thoughts of distrust and jealousy still had a place within him. "Damn Sandorin, who qualified you to decide..." Colin's thoughts immediately ricocheted off in another direction, "I'm going to have to talk to her, and I'm going to have to change this. Otherwise I'm going to lose her."
Colin took a deep breath, straightened himself, and moved on.
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