Ruthivan listened to his wife reading the same passage over and over again. If she kept reading it, she'd finally get it and understand. He'd drill it into her head by rote force of will. She had to understand -there was no leaving, or going away, or breaking their bond. There were doing what was proper and right, they were ensuring the survival of their people and their people's heritage. This was right.
He watched her flames die and his heart clenched in agony. It was the final end, the way he knew all of Claire's happiness had dried up and vanished like a dandelion seed in a tornado. This was not what he wanted. He wanted the Claire he'd known for three hundred years - the one with beautiful lilac flames that licked and flowed around her skin. The one with bright eyes of sparkling amethyst, a coquettish smile, and softly spoken words. That was what he had been promised by her parents ages ago. But this all was his fault. He helped her go on adventures those many years ago. He helped her get her head wrapped up in a world to which they didn't belong.
Ruthivan watched her reading, every word coming from her mouth dry and caked with apathy. The Claire he wanted was in there, but buried so far down even he couldn't reach in and drag her out. She finished with the passage and turned to look at him. "Do you want me to read it again?" she asked.
He was struck by the sudden urge to cry out. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was that she hurt, that he was only doing this for her own good. He wanted her to understand, but he knew that his care would fall on a soul beyond his touch. He would have to do something. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" he asked, extending what he hoped was an olive branch, a beginning.
"I think I just want to lay down."
"Claire, you just woke up not an hour ago."
"Do you want me to take a walk with you?"
"I want you to want it," he said, his frustration rising.
"I will do whatever you want me to do."
Ruthivan got hold of himself and stared at Claire, who looked back at him with a deadness in her gaze. He would have given almost anything to see a spark of life there, but what would return that spark would be his losing her. He'd rather have her dead inside than give her up to the world. At least he could work to bring her back and eventually see her happy again. This was only a temporary setback. Once she learned the way things worked, she would return to herself and be happy again. Yes. He wouldn't leave her side. He'd be there every step of the way, all for her and their family. He put on the only smile he could find in him and touched her cheek. "Come. Let's walk. Then, perhaps we can have your mother come for a visit, or your father." He held back his rage when she answered with an indifferent shrug.
Phases of the Moon 2/2
Obediently, Claire read it and looked over at her husband. 'What do you want from me?'
'I want you to realize that what I'm are doing is for the good of our people. There can't be one to find the true homeland if there isn't one! And the one to find it is pure. Not a half-breed, not an Esper with a... celestial mongrel,' he spat.
'You don't care what I want.'
'Only because you want the wrong things, my love. You need to see clearly, and that will be my new task. I will help you see clearly why things are the way they are. Our bond, our marriage, our children; they are all important to the survival of our kind.'
'Forcing yourself on one who doesn't want you?'
Claire winced as Ruthivan crossed the space like a thunderclap. He grabbed her arm and shook her, his eyes going hard in a moment. 'What has gotten into you? Why do you keep saying such asinine garbage? We are married, we are mates, and that is permanent.' He finally let go of her and took a moment to clear his throat. He sat down at her side, smoothing the sleeve of her robe. 'Claire, I love you, I want you to love me, too. Love our family, love what we are, and have pride in the fact we are doing everything possible to help the passage in that book come true.' He leaned in to her, his nose on her cheek. 'Do you love me?'
Claire closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. She could tell him what she truly thought, but it would only send him into a rage. The quicksand rose up, enclosing her completely, cutting off her breath and clenching her soul. Her flames that had already been low, went out. She nodded her head slowly. 'Yes.'
'Good. Read it again.'
'I want you to realize that what I'm are doing is for the good of our people. There can't be one to find the true homeland if there isn't one! And the one to find it is pure. Not a half-breed, not an Esper with a... celestial mongrel,' he spat.
'You don't care what I want.'
'Only because you want the wrong things, my love. You need to see clearly, and that will be my new task. I will help you see clearly why things are the way they are. Our bond, our marriage, our children; they are all important to the survival of our kind.'
'Forcing yourself on one who doesn't want you?'
Claire winced as Ruthivan crossed the space like a thunderclap. He grabbed her arm and shook her, his eyes going hard in a moment. 'What has gotten into you? Why do you keep saying such asinine garbage? We are married, we are mates, and that is permanent.' He finally let go of her and took a moment to clear his throat. He sat down at her side, smoothing the sleeve of her robe. 'Claire, I love you, I want you to love me, too. Love our family, love what we are, and have pride in the fact we are doing everything possible to help the passage in that book come true.' He leaned in to her, his nose on her cheek. 'Do you love me?'
Claire closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. She could tell him what she truly thought, but it would only send him into a rage. The quicksand rose up, enclosing her completely, cutting off her breath and clenching her soul. Her flames that had already been low, went out. She nodded her head slowly. 'Yes.'
'Good. Read it again.'
Phases of the Moon 1/2
Claire sat in the living room, a book in her lap, ignoring from the corner of her eye the fact that Ruthivan was sitting and staring at her. She kept reading the same passage over and over again:
"And when the one is brought forth, strong of mind and might, a seeker of true and noble heritage, and pure lineage, it is then our home shall be rediscovered. The quest to end all quests, the battle to end all battles, and we will find our way home. Our world to rebuild, our posterity safe as our progenitors desired. Espers in harmony with Espers, destructive hands far from our boundless lives. Pure lands to extend into perpetuity unchanging."
'I read it,' Claire said quietly. 'Again,' he demanded. 'This time read it aloud.'
Claire sighed and read the passage. She ended up in the living room after a night under heavy sedation. She'd woken up completely healed, barely remembering the cloth clapped over her face that made her groggy. Barely remembering the healer she didn't know, the esper who came into the room with the same feelings as Ruthivan. Barely remembered being healed completely, restored, and having magic worked on her to make her incredibly fertile. She did, however, recall as the sedative wore off, the promise. 'If anything happens to this little one, we'll have to ensure you're kept ... calm.'
'Again.'
'Ruthivan, I don't need to-'
'Read it AGAIN.'
"And when the one is brought forth, strong of mind and might, a seeker of true and noble heritage, and pure lineage, it is then our home shall be rediscovered. The quest to end all quests, the battle to end all battles, and we will find our way home. Our world to rebuild, our posterity safe as our progenitors desired. Espers in harmony with Espers, destructive hands far from our boundless lives. Pure lands to extend into perpetuity unchanging."
'I read it,' Claire said quietly. 'Again,' he demanded. 'This time read it aloud.'
Claire sighed and read the passage. She ended up in the living room after a night under heavy sedation. She'd woken up completely healed, barely remembering the cloth clapped over her face that made her groggy. Barely remembering the healer she didn't know, the esper who came into the room with the same feelings as Ruthivan. Barely remembered being healed completely, restored, and having magic worked on her to make her incredibly fertile. She did, however, recall as the sedative wore off, the promise. 'If anything happens to this little one, we'll have to ensure you're kept ... calm.'
'Again.'
'Ruthivan, I don't need to-'
'Read it AGAIN.'
Current Character Description - Zeros do' Mtor
An elven figure stands before you, veiled forever in the shadows of drow skin. His body is six feet tall, topped with short hair as pale as bone. A long, hooded cloak is fastened about his neck with a small onyx rose. Its torn black fabric sometimes blowing in the wind. He wears a pair of leather bracers and a suit of drow chainmail, his strong legs protected by reinforced shinguards. In his hand he often carries a small book, its old jacket made of worn brown leather, its pages near cracking. His face, when seen from below the dark hood, was once useful.. but now, its dark flesh is scarred diagonally over the nose.
Current Character Description - Sharp Sorannon
An drow of slightly aged appearance. Dark skin, shiny and taught. White hair, whispy, ragged and tangled. A weathered face, sunken eyes reflecting a slight sadness. A mild aura of cheekiness, a grin that defies age. Low key garb of the shadowy kind, slinking in and out of unseen cracks and fissures without a sound. Ever looking around, surveying the area, this mischevious creature seems to fuel herself on nervous energy. A strange scar encircles her small throat, almost circumfrentially...
Current Character Description - Jackal
Jackal spent most of his life growing up on the streets of the docks district in Neverwinter. After spending most of his teenage years as a petty thug and mercenary for hire he came across a copy of the Cyrinishad one day and started reading it, suddenly the world started making sense now, he could understand why everyone he met seemed so stupid. Seeking out a way to bring the words of Cyric the One and All to the people. He sought out the Church of Strife, the highest authority when it comes to the word of Cyric Now he spends his days spreading the word of Cyric to the unenlightened, and cleansing the realms of the heretics.
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