Nymaya: What Makes Us Mortal
To: New_Thalos Fastia Baruch Mladen Anastormia ( RP Necrucifer Imm )
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'We are born to feel, Nymaya. It is what makes us mortal, and not Gods.'
The context of the words, the time in which they had been spoken by Fastia,
had leant some comfort, and even now they stood as a reminder, long after
the fact.
But the pain lingered.
She sat in the dust-swept shrine all night, staring at her left hand as she
flexed it open and closed, again and again. Her ring, the band of onyx that
had bound his vow to hers, glimmered in whatever faint light the moons and
stars shed, displaying its faint silver etching of the Kayen sigil.
Mladen had given her too much to consider, but she had asked the hard
questions - the ones that had kept her up in the night - and then she had
turned her anger on him. Perhaps it had been petty of her but she could
find no forgiveness, no gentled understanding in herself to give to the man.
Not for his deceased daughter, not for any pain or regret that might still
linger in him.
He had had a choice, even as Reklah had had a choice, even as she had had a choice.
Perhaps they had all chosen wrong.
..did he go into the arena knowing he was outmatched..
...many told him so...
She closed her eyes against the words, what they seemed to mean, and for
perhaps the first time since she had come to love the man, she felt a
tendril of wavering anger ignite at what Reklah Kayen had done.
"Lord, forgive me."
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