Wounds

Some days were better than others.
Other days seemed perfectly fine until the very moment they suddenly spiraled out of control.  Like the morning he saw the woman in the Exchange…

((inspired by this song and recent events))

Vanity was a dead concept to the half-elf.

He'd never been vain to begin with...He was usually too busy moping or fighting to think about how he looked. In his youth he'd been attractive enough, charming too. It had lasted for a number of years, until his first marriage had ended and he'd fallen into a deep depression. A combination of drugs, alcoholism and skirmishes with other criminals and guards had given him a more forlorn, gaunt countenance following Niara's death and the third war. He'd gained scars then too. However despite all of that, he'd remained fairly handsome in a way. Two and a half tours of duty as a soldier in his parole squad had done little to change that either. In a way, his experiences had lent him a sort of melancholy air that suited him as an addicted, constantly drunk romantic.

Midnight in my small garden was the perfect time to think, warm nights like this one with the curling scent of flowers left over from the day. Halodante’s weight pressed against my leg, her soft humming voice, sightless eyes staring off into darkness none of us would ever see. I ran my hand through her fine white hair, it was getting long. Strands of silk run though my fingers, it caught the scab healing in my palm. Another scar, another mark of loyalty, another blood promise to someone else.

Journal,
Its been a very long time since I’ve written. The last few weeks were hellish and crazy. To put it mildly. Asilia was imprisoned on suspicion of murder, Lirriel was kidnapped by a blood elf slaver named Shryn, Mandy got attacked by an assassin for who knows what reasons and Rose went missing.

I haven’t been able to talk to Mandy too much since the incident, except for when trading off care of Connor, but she’s living at Marar’s Estate for the time being and is under his protection. So that situation turned out alright, at least for the time being.

Theramore Isle, Foothold Citadel. One a.m. on the 21st day of the 1st month of the 29th year.

            Taneel awoke suddenly, his body tensing before he was even conscious of why.  Then it came to him, the tiniest dripping sound and the smell of blood. Instantly he tumbled from his bed and looked around the large room, it was deserted except for Rhahasia’s still inert form and...

It all made sense now...

It burns... It burns, and it won't go away...

The fel energy... I can feel it burning into my soul...

Resist... I have to... Oh Light it burns... It hurts...

Agoris... It's using him... He doesn't know...

There must be a way... Free him... Destroy the demon within...

There; I held up the blanket I was knitting; I'd finally gotten the tension right. Still a little uneven, but at least it didn't look like murlocs had chewed on it. I was sitting in front of the fire, bare feet propped up on the hearth and enjoying the warmth despite the burns on my legs. I frowned a little as I bent to take a look at them, pulling back the old skirt I was wearing to get a better view. They were healing fine, magic had taken care of the worst of it, and Yuta had mixed up some salve so they wouldn't scar too much. Not much really, compared to some of the hurts I'd taken.