Runnig Away; Yllithia

Raindrops spattered on the already soaked clothes clinging to Yllithia's pale, violet tinted skin. Streams of the cold water traced down her body. Trickling along every curve, down every strand of her purple locks. Dripping off the abrupt cliffs of her lashes and other small ledges formed from her silent and still form. Seeping between every saturated crevice in the wood of the large tree she was perched in. Before finally making its way down to the sodden earth, joining the growing pools. Ylli stiffened her back as a shudder trailed up her long spine, causing what would surely be a violent downpour not only from her body but the branches beneath her, to be seen as nothing. The twitch of a few muscles missed in the blink of an eye.

The old tree offered little shelter from the storm, but that was not why she chose it. Kneeling near the trunk, on a limb wide enough to easily accommodate her tall, yet lean size, she was waiting, and watching. Her face flushed from the capillaries trying to keep her heat in. The butterfly wing tattoos across her cheeks dark in contrast to her light skin. Most of her body numb from the lack of clothing, only wearing an earthly colored summer dress. Hands on her knees, the thick of the tree against her back, still as a statue, she had sat for over two hours examining the landscape for the reason she was here.

It was her eyes she strained now. The silvery pools, only slightly more luminescent than the clear water that battered at her and her hiding spot. She was watching. Intently. For the slightest movement that seemed off in this onslaught of natural beauty. For a branch, a bush to move, a stick to break, a sound that couldn't be made from steady pelt of rain. And it was her long, pointed, sensitive ears that caught it. Nothing. Nothing besides the shower. The tips of her ears rose ever so slightly as she eased up on one sense and strained the other. There was no noise. No lonely cricket. No wallowing birds. Even in the rain the noise of the woods existed. And as Yllithia ever so slightly tilted her head, a smile grew across her face. It's about time. He was here.

Ylli's breath grew shallow and slow, offering as little movement from her chest as she could manage. She became aware of every fiber in her being. Every muscle that tightened, slowly crawling over her. Her eyes quickly darting around to glance that dark blue hair which would be his give away. The wind shook the leaves. The branches danced as the storm commanded, creaking from the stress. The rain battered at the foliage. Ylli slowly raised her knees off the ground, rocking her weight to her toes, the small amount of leather in her cloth shoes muted compared to the noise around her. She placed a steady hand on the slick branch in front of her, leaning forward at a crawling pace. A hunched slow shuffle to both keep her balance as nature dared to knock her to the ground and to keep it from revealing where she crouched by adding to the symphony of the storm.

He was here, she knew it. Her inner voice screamed to pay attention, that he was close. She was mustering all the attention she could manage, peering through narrow eyes, strained so the whipping rain wouldn't sting her sensitive pupils. Her hands stiff from the lack of body heat, and her thin robes not helping matters, drenched and dripping, clinging with little protection from the elements. Where are you? Another slight tilt of her head as she searched the ground left of her perch, the light orbs tracing the path, taking in every movement without darting in its direction.

The softest whisper passed through her parted lips. So silent that no voice actually said the name, but instead breathed the vowels. Her tongue softly forming the consonants. "Landrien." As if saying his name where only an extremely trained ear could hear the whisper on the wind would summon him. What a silly thought. But she had mouthed it in hopes that he'd show himself. If it wasn't him in the woods, then her imagination was toying with Ylli... or someone was stalking her in this remote place. She closed her mouth, gently pressing her lips with an inward sigh.

Easing herself back towards the trunk her senses relaxed as her thoughts began to take over. Thoughts of home... where was home for her? Of the reasons for the visit. Of the letter she had wrote to him with the short sentences telling where and when, a trust that he'd still beckon to her call. Was she mistaken? Would he turn a blind eye to the request, it had been so long since they'd spoken. Would he be mad at her choices? She had to leave everything behind to move on and here she was, back where she started. No more progressed in her path in life. But he had left as well. He had left her long before she left home. No explanation, just the need to move. To be away from it all. And now she was calling him back, to a place she didn't even visit. For him to take her in, for things to start over. Would she call it home?

Ylli's eyes clouded, taking on that distant stare she often wore in the cities. Still aware of the movements of the storm. But absorbing the details to be sorted through once her visions of memories faded. It was common for Yllithia to lose track of time, of the current actions of others, causing her to seem airy. But airy was far from what was going on. Her obsessive approach to detail would often cause other thoughts, ones of scrutinizing past analysis’s of situations that still weighed on her, to take over. Her father had instilled many words of wisdom to her, and learning from your past was one of them. There were many things Ylli had lived with, lived through, to be who she was. Would I go back and change it? The answer was always quick to come when others would pose the question. No. However, knowing what to say was easy to recite, not something she always believed. If the answer was truly no then... then... Why am I here...? One question she didn't need to ask herself, but one she refused to answer.

The storm was quieting to her ears as flashes of the recent events mingled with pictures pulled up from the recesses of her mind. She allowed a great sigh to push out from her chest as she closed her eyes and dropped her head back. A dull thud echoing through her skull, like a gong bringing those words back to her mind. "You mean if you tried too hard to change what must be, that time would find its own way of righting itself?" The words cut her deep still. It was the last thing anyone had to say to make her realize that all she had done was not meant to be. That all that had happened was her fault. It was the last thing that anyone had to say for her to stop trying. That sour, rock of doubt pressed on her ribs causing Ylli to swallow hard. "What if they're right?" She bit her lip as soon as she realized that the words had muttered from her.

"What if who's right?" The male voice chortled.

Yllithia shot her eyes open forgetting her surroundings as she sprung from her short relief from the waking world. It all came rushing in, the forceful wind, the silent forest behind the thunderclaps, her supposed belief to be alone, and the slick branches. Instincts took over as her footing was lost. No longer worrying about whom the male that had snuck up on her was she shot her hand out to grab hold of the foliage she was surely to be falling through and found it received by another.

"Woah! Ylli!" She looked up at her rescue line, the voice she didn't recognize, and the fear of the unknown on her face quickly turned to a bright grin and then explosive laughter, racking her dangling form. "What in Azeroth- Ylli! This isn't the time for-" He huffed, straining against the bough he desperately clung to above her, keeping both of them from plummeting to the ground. His purple skin marred with scars, dark blue hair pulled back in a pony-tail, long ears and dimly glowing eyes; Ylli knew this face full of worry and interest.

"No, you don't get it!" Yllithia laughed harder shaking her head as Landrien peered down at her as if she'd gone mad. Ylli swung her other hand up grabbing onto Landrien's hold. "Let go." She grinned up at him mischievously, lifting her feet to push off the side of the branch she had previously been prowling from for hours. Landrien blinked at her, shaking his head.

"Ylli... I don't want-"

"Trust me." Ylli interjected. "Like you used to."

Landrien reluctantly released Ylli's wrist, having just recently saved her from falling. He suppressed the urge to grab on again as Ylli followed suit on his own wrist. Kicking the branch below her in a backwards leap she managed a wink as she plunged ten yards before curling into a summersault flipping her body around to land rather silently on her feet below. Landrien let out a breath of relief while Yllithia giggled below.

"Let's see you do that!" She called up to him, the giggle still heard on her voice.

"I can do it..." Landrien challenged. "I just... don't want to. See, my branch is higher up. Two yards can make a big difference!" Another fit of laughter erupted from Yllithia. Landrien smiled to himself. Perhaps things weren't so dire, she's laughing...

"Oh Landrien. Come on down then. I've been waiting long enough, don't you think?" She waved a hand beckoning the dark skinned elf to her side.

"Yeah. Just a minute." Landrien wasn't acrobatic. Long ago he had learned just how graceful Ylli could be, back when he'd helped her sneak out of her room during the days. But he had always lacked the flexibility that seemed to come naturally to her. He wasn't a klutz by any sense either. He'd learned his way around the woods, learned to be silent as the sentinels were. But he'd sooner sprain an ankle from that height than land with such perfection, let alone be able to make it showy as Ylli always would. Quickly he hopped down, deftly working around the tree nearly as quietly as he had climbed up, finally pouncing to the ground in front of an arm crossed, grinning Ylli.

"It's wet." He said non-chalauntly. Not willing to admit that he wasn’t willing to try the same feats.

"Uh huh..." Yllithia grinned mockingly with a raise of her brow.

And there they stood for more than a few moments. Both looking over the grown up other. So many years had passed since they’d seen each other. So many conversations lost, and so many glances never made. They shared them now. His eyes flowing over her drenched form of the woman he remembered as being a young lady the last time they met. Her hair the same length, but no longer in braided pigtails. Her skin lighter and appearing more delicate. And the sweet mischief in her eyes overtook by a captivating glance, now on him. Her eyes tracing over his fading scars and well formed body of the man that she still saw as that little boy she played tag with. His blue hair had maintained its length, still tied back in a ponytail. His purple skin had darkened only slightly and although more than a few new sets of scars were visible, none seemed to be fresh. He was taller, granted she was as well, but it was hard to see him as her childhood friend. He was definitely grown up.

“Ylli…” Landrien managed to word. She smiled and tilted her head with questioning eyes.

“It’s been a while.” She finished for him. “It’s good to see you.” Landrien closed his mouth and nodded, swallowing down whatever he was about to say. A gust of wind violently rushed past the two, bushes shaking their outer leaves, seeming almost to be huddled close to the ground where they knew it was safe.

She inhaled sharply. She’d been sitting much too long to be comfortable, and her clothing didn’t offered little warmth like the leathers used to. The awkward silence didn’t help, freezing the two in place gauging what the other might do next. She knew he was curious on her call. She never called for help if she could handle things on her own, and yet the letter was sent, and here she was, needing to be near someone she trusted to align her again. It had been decades. And for all the time lost, she wasn’t yet ready to explain what new situations had arose, there were still things to go over before he was even brought into light.

Landrien twitched his hand, a movement easily missed for one not as keen as Yllithia was. The slightest movement of him reaching towards her, and stopping himself before he thought she’d notice. He was worried, and though he had always had that worry with her, he never spoke on it. Things would come in time. He just had to wait for it. Landrien was used to waiting. He had for so many years, from long ago when they were kids; he would always be waiting for Ylli. She was the one to be waited on in his mind. He’d do so for eternity if they had that long anymore. But life was no longer unlimited, the tree had been destroyed years ago, the well corrupted, and now he was content waiting until the end of their times, waiting on her to make it known that he didn’t have to any longer.

“Are…” Landrien’s words shook as he tried to voice his concern. “What are you wearing?” He managed to blurt out, overrunning the previous sentiment. He wrinkled his nose in distaste for her autumn hued dress.

A grin graced Yllithia’s lips, pushing down her own insecurities. “What’s the matter? You don’t care for something frilly and feminine?” Brushing her hands down her torso to grasp the sides of her damp and hanging garments she did a twirl attempting to smile as sweet as possible.

“You look better in leather.” He grumbled. “You’ll catch cold. That’s not something to be worn out here. What happened to your vest and boots? Tramping around in the woods, in the rain like you’re on parade. No wonder you were easy to find. Saw you from a mile away!”

Ylli’s eyes bore into Landrien for a moment. The temptation to suck on her teeth while holding back jabs at what she knew of the choices he’d made in his life was overwhelming. And she knew plenty. Though she had cut herself off from all that she grew up with, she was still well aware of those that once mattered in her life. “How little you know,” was the only answer she coolly offered.

To say she wasn't cold would be lying. But lying was what Yllithia was best at. From long before she knew of the harshness of the world, she'd perfected the art with the teachings of her father. And from those of other mentors, she'd learned to mask her muscle movements, causing the involuntary to be voluntary. "I'm fine,” she tacked onto her previous sentence. And she seemed to be such. No shiver shook her taught skin. No chatter of teeth behind her light lips. But a soft, warm smile pulled across her face to assure him of her lie. "Really.” A nod of her head and he was set in her attempt at truth. Weather he believed her or accepted her short responses wasn’t clear to her, and she didn’t care either way. Anything to stop the questions.

Another few moments of silence, a fidget of her hands. Him shifting his weight glancing around. Where does one begin in the middle of a storm after sixty years?

It was Yllithia that broke the silence, speaking low. “Have you spoken with your parents?”

“No.”

“They don’t know you’re coming?”

“No, they don’t. But the room hasn’t changed since I left, Ylli. I’ve been back from time to time; I was hoping to run int-…. You were never here.” Landrien’s eyes shot downwards, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “They’ll be happy to see me, as always. And you, Ylli.” His eyes met hers before she tore them away. That hard knot filling up her chest. With a nod the corners of her mouth pulled back to the bemused smile.

“We should tell them you’re back before they make your room into a study. I’m sure they’d like to hear some of the stories I have…. On second thought, if we tell them I’m back they might make your room into a study just to hear my stories.” Yllithia playfully giggled, the tension softening while Landrien produced his impish grin.

“I should go back alone. I rather like my room.” With that Landrien turned and slowly made his way in the direction of his parents residence, leaving Yllithia standing there giggling.

Yllithia scampered after him, her soft shoes padding against the wet ground calling out. “Landrien! Oh come now, you wouldn’t really leave me here, would you? In the rain. I was just jesting! I’m sure they could fit your bed in with the study.”

The home was much like Yllithia remembered it. Even though it had been decades, not much seemed to have changed in that time. Tidy, neat, everything in its place, it was a wonder how Landrien could come from such organized and proper parents. His father was a druid, and his mother a community figure. Both of them constantly taking up council in all maters from the mundane to the most dire circumstances. Unlike Yllithia’s parents, they hadn’t been around for the splitting of the continent, though they were wise as to what that had done to their race, they were often reminded of this fact when speaking of courses of actions to take part in. Few literary pieces were to be found around the house, instead documents and certificates lined the shelves and tables of achievements Landrien’s parents had either written, received, or taken part in composing.

It was a warm home. Several linens folded neatly across the back of chairs and couches, as if they were always expecting company. The dining table lined with 12 chairs. Ylli remembered back how odd she thought it, a small family like theirs, like hers, and such a big table free of any dedbri. Landrien had told her then that his parents often had several guests over, partaking in conversation he wasn’t allowed to be a part of, mainly business propositions. His mother truly was the perfect mate for such an important druid official, always ready to open her doors and her home to all matters that pertained to his line of work.

The house was quiet now, as they made their way through the spotless rooms to Landrien’s old bedroom. As an only child, as many were of their age, his room was the largest of the house. It was probably made to be a spare den, but he had wanted it for his boyhood fantasies, slaying dragons and even bringing in wild animals to the room was something she remembered him doing on the nights she visited. Nearly as large as the dinning room and living room combined, it had room for a fireplace, his large bed, and a few cushioned chairs and sofas that looked still new under his clothing strewn over them. Ylli touched the arm of on couch, remembering how she would lounge there while Landrien talked of his adventures that were sure to come. How much he was a boy back then, and so quiet now. Solemn, watching and waiting on her to say something.

“It’s much like I remember.” She finally managed, uneasy with his change in character. What do you say to someone you haven’t seen in half a century?

“I was adament about them not touching anything. Said I wouldn’t come back if they did. I knew they wouldn’t, but the thought might have kept them further at bay.” Landrien quickly replied while dropping his quiver and bow in a corner.

“At least some things haven’t changed. The house is still spotless. Your mother will have a conniption when she finds we’ve dripped all over that lovely rug out there.” Ylli smirked, the thought of Landrien’s mother standing in the doorway while they slept through her complaining always brought a smile to her face. Of course that had always made his punishment worse, she thought she was being made a fool at some sort of inside joke, when in fact it was just their tiredness that often caused their lack of attention to her.

“Everything has changed, Ylli. This isn’t the place we grew up anymore, I don’t need to remind you of that. Your father won’t be coming here looking for you now.”

“I know that.” She snapped. She still hated talking about her father, but even more when others did it in her presence. None of them understood how that night still haunted her. She wished so long that thigns weren’t the way they were. This was supposed to help her find her place again, and reminding her that her place was long gone changed things. She shivered, trying to hide her sigh of sadness. Yllithia longed to curl up on the couch as she had done centuries past, stare at the fire and hide from her duties. But there was no fire, and no one knew to find her here. She didn’t need to hide, the game was over long ago.

“I…” Landrien started, following her eyes to the empty hearth. “I’ll start a fire. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“I’m not. If anything you should start a fire for yourself, you were always the thinner of skin.” The smirk slowly spread across her face again as he scowled in response.

“The wood is in the other room.” Landrien shifted as if to make his way towards the door. “Ylli?”

“Mm?”

“Not everything has changed. But some things… they’re not as they were. Things won’t ever be the same.”

“I know.” She offered a soft smile at his attempt to right his wrong. “As long as we don’t, that’s all that matters, right?” Ylli looked down, noticing her hands had began to wring themselves, quickly she smoothed out her drenched robe pushing the worry of what was to come in her life out of reach.

Landrien nodded once, his eyes drifting over her. “Right. We won’t change.” A sudden pressure built in his chest, and with that he stalked out of the room to get the kindling for the fire. In truth he hadn’t changed much, it wasn’t as if they were so different even as adults. But he was bolder now than he had been long ago, and what exactly did she mean by them not changing? Their friendship? He wanted more than that, and long ago he had as well. She had yet to explain why she was here, and he knew in time it would come, but did she mean to share a bed with him? When he had gotten the letter in the first place he was certain she was coming to see him, now it seemed more like she was there to hide from her present again. It was never the past that haunted her, it was always the situation she wasn’t prepared to deal with at hand.

“She’s hiding behind me again… But from what?” Slowly he stacked up the wood that would last them through the morning hours into the day ahead. Making his way through the darkened house he grumbled to himself. “Always in the dark. Ironic that this is how my life always plays out. And when the candle comes into light, quickly it is pulled away by an even darker place.” To Landrien, Yllithia was that light. And Stormwind the darker place. Her residence for the last few years. Before that, it was the wilderness of the Eastern Kingdoms, before that the southern end of the continent. Always looking for something she’s missing, or running from what she doesn’t want to see. And yet, time and time again, she came back to him, for a few hours, days, weeks, but never long enough. And then she was gone, to the new darkness she hadn’t yet explored, still looking.

“If you’re hungry-“ He stopped mid-stride as he walked in the room, standing still as stone as he took in what he had just walked in on. Yllithia was partially nude, sliding on a pair of his pants he caught a glimpse of her backside. Her top was still bare, though turned away from him, and he could see the curves of her breasts between the movements of her arms to lace up the leggings. He almost blushed then the weight of the logs in his arms reminded him of the task at hand.

“If I’m hungry?” Ylli pushed, seemingly to not notice him cutting off, and unaware of the shock she had caused. She snatched up a cloth undershirt she had already lain on the bed for herself, tugging it over her head she glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh…” He struggled to remember the thought. “There’s sure to be food in the kitchen, I saw some bread on the counter.” His eyes sharpened. “Those are mine.”

“You didn’t seem to be wearing them. Was I to ask for permission to not drip all over your floor?” The playful grin returned to her face pulling the shirt over the last sight of her navel as she turned towards him again.

“No. But if you’re going to go through my clothes, you might as well pick them up. Like you used to.” Flashing a toothy grin of his own he went about making the fire.

“I’m surprised you haven’t learned for yourself without me taking care of you any longer.”

“It’s a work in progress. And it was you who needed me to watch out for you. How many times did I stand below that tree branch of yours?”

“From what I remember, you were only there for support, never a helping hand.”

“Support is a type of ‘care’.” The flames caught. “And there we go. I have just made you a fire. See, I’m the care-giver this time around. And we are in my house.”

“Your parents house.” Ylli corrected.

“You’d rather sleep in the mud and rain?” Landrien twisted around finding Ylli seated on the sofa closest to the fire. He hadn’t even heard her move across the room.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Do you remember that one week when we scared my father by going out on our own?” She settled back in the couch. “I was sure he wouldn’t notice for nearly two, but then your parents had asked him about you.”

“I remember sorting nights in those musty ol’ basements. And how many we had after I let you talk me into pretending you were good enough to be a scout.”

Yllithia scowled this time, grabbing the cushions in her hands. “I was a scout. You took years longer than me to earn your first bow.”

“At least I knew what I wanted to be and still carry the scout title.”

Ylli’s eyes narrowed, the joy leaving her for the briefest of moments, but long enough for Landrien to realize he shouldn’t have brought it up. There were few things that Ylli didn’t like being reminded of, and tonight he’d touched on two of them. Her father, and her career. The other two he knew wouldn’t come up unless she brought them up first. Those other two, they were the worst of it, ones she never even mentioned, ones that she had barely uttered a peep to him about while they were growing up.

He looked to the fire, hoping to let the slip up fade with silence.

“Landrien…” Her voice was small like a frightened child. She looked that way too when he turned to face her again. His acknowledgement of her words being all she needed to continue.

“Do you ever think that it was all one big mistake after another?”

Landrien just stared, unsure what to say.

“I knew what I wanted to be… but when I look at it now, I’m so far from where that was. Everything has changed. Maybe… Maybe I’m just not good enough. For any of it. Living in too many shadows…” Ylli’s eyes fell to the floor. The usual response to chew on her lip shortly followed, how he knew her too well. Decisions for Yllithia always required lip chewing.

He got up, not entirely sure why, but he was moving across the room to where she sat. Did he mean to kiss her, hold her tight and shush her fears away? Certainly that was out of the question, now wasn’t the time for such things. She just got back, and this was a reason why. It wasn’t the time to say what he needed to say and approach her with another change in her life. He found himself sitting on the sofa as well, staring across the room.

“That’s not for us to question. Not now.” She seemed to take solace in that for now. Yllithia nodded and leaned her back against him, resting her head on his shoulder as if a pillow.

“Tomorrow. Or the next day. There are many days to come if you stay. Just… stay with me. Promise.”

“Of course, Ylli. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

“Mm.” She murmmered adjusting her head and scooting closer, settling in. “Tell me a story, Landrien. It’s been so long since I’ve heard one.”

“Alright. I’m not you, but I’ll give it a shot.” Landrien thought for a moment. What was there to tell someone that’s seen it all? He was no pup himself, but words weren’t as easy to him as they were for others.

“There was a boy. He caused mischief in his time growing of age. Everything was a joke in the dark. He didn’t need the light of day, he was content in his wilderness. Until one day he saw the flicker of a campfire. One smoldering out while the people next to it neglected to care for the fire. It was a new light. And he was drawn to it. At the corner of the camp he watched it. When the sun began to peek through the trees he was gone. But the next night he saw it again, in the same place. Again he watched it fading out. Growing dimmer. And the next night. And the night after. He’d watch the people sleep unknowingly. It was a new light, beautiful in its own way. Some nights he would feed it with his visits, but all the while those that were supposed to care for it would leave it until they woke from their coldness to toss a piece of wood to the flame.

“One night he found that the fire was abandoned. The party taking shelter from the rain, while the little flame sputtered. His tears were hidden in the rain at the dying light. But dawn broke and it was the first time he had seen the brightness of the day. The campfire gave its last puff making the sky grow brighter. A comfort creeped over him as he watched the sky grow lighter. Like the fire had joined the light it was meant to mimick.

“He left the camp before the others woke up. But he sat up that day watching the burning sun pass across the sky. That night the fire was gone. It had moved on. But each morning he’d watch the sun rise with the belief that the flame never died, just moved to where it was needed. Years passed and night rose more times than he could count. And he’d see the flicker of flames in the woods. Trailing behind them on the nights he needed the comfort of the light. Always knowing the sun would rise and that what he loved, the heat in the sky, the feelings he had from that first flame, would come up the next day. Even on the darkest nights, the light would always return at dawn.”

Landrien sighed, unsure if it even made sense to him. “I’ve never been good at this.” Silence filled the room, the fire licking the wood, orange and yellow hues flickering against the walls. There he sat for how long he couldn’t say, realizing she lay asleep next to him, her weight pressing against him. “And it put you to sleep.” He mumbled more to himself than her motionless form.

Silently and softly removing himself from beneath her, he retrieved a blanket. He whispered low as he covered her, gently tucking her in.

“I am the boy, Ylli. And you… You’re that flame. I’ve loved you from when I first set eyes on you. There are times when you’re gone, to those that need you. And times I’m alone in the dark. But the dawn comes, and so does my comfort that you left me. And every now and then, I know you’re near, but just in sight. In memory of that heat you left me. But you’re here, and I’ll feed you all the kindling you need to make you bright again.”

Landrien reached out, hesitant at first, but bolder knowing the secret had been reveled to her in a dreaming state, she’d never know what she meant to him. The lightest touch brushing away a few strands of her hair he leaned close to her ear.

“I love you still.”

Yllithia stirred, he froze. What would she think if she found him this close? Her face turned towards his, lips parting in a noiseless sigh that escaped her.

“I love you…” His heart lept. Did she know what she was saying? Would things be different now if she woke to find him and remembered all that went on? A small smile graced her features and a name came out of her mouth… “Mutig.”

Landrien withdrew quickly, sitting back on the floor. His heart pounding again, fast with a new heat, one of jealousy. “Mutig.” His mind spat back at him. “Blind again, fool!” It was never him she wanted, and here was the name that had come out, the one that had moved her and kept her from his reach. He didn’t know the one that carried the name, but he held the disdain for it all the same. It wasn’t his. And in his mind it should have been his. He watched her breathe, his thoughts roaring in the silence of the room. Finally he rose, defeat hung off him, dragging him down, draining him of the sweet rush of those words that had filled him minutes before. “They weren’t for me.”

“The dawn will rise another day, and with it I will know you’ll come back again.”

Landrien slumped into bed. The last sight he witnessed before closing his eyes was the soft glow of the dying fire lightly touching her sleeping form. Her face growing dimmer like a spark dying to the darkness. “One day you’ll realize how much I care for you…” Restless sleep took hold.