[Inn Room] Closure (Solo)

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:35 am

512 Spring 36

The harsh scratch of another pen stroke, crossing through insufficient words rung dully through the candlelit room. Oluse let out a soft sigh, and stared with exhausted eyes toward the parchment, full of scratched out words. He wanted to write how he felt so much, to make what he was doing, what he had done, better. But, he couldn't seem to find the right phrasing, if there were a right phrasing for such things. He had begun to doubt it.

Three seasons he had worked away, harder than any other worker at the Whitevine clinic. He had learned so much from them all, and through vigilance and endurance had won the respect of the large majority of the staff. So much they had become family, yet in truth much more enjoyable than family. He wouldn't call himself closer any one of them, though close enough for them to notice his distractions recently. He hadn't told them the truth, that he would be gone within the week, with no plans to ever return. He felt guilty, though not enough to stay. Just enough to make him too fearful to tell a soul of his intentions. How does one explain such a goal, one that rips them away from safety, and patients in need? To chase a dream... A literal dream. As breakthrough as it was. Never before had Oluse remembered, in such a vivid way. He couldn't ignore it, it would be like ignoring himself. That strong, and adult self, who had fallen to such travesty so long ago.

"Dear Family,

I call you family because that is exactly what you have all been for me since my arrival in Avanthal. Recently a new people have come, and they too have asked me to be their family. The one that would be my father promised me safety, and transport to a place I dreamt of. It came from powerful and noble roots, and I can only hope that it had maintained this glory.

I will be leaving you all, and I can not bring myself to face you with these words. So, I write to you, and I hope that you will not miss me. Thank you, and, I am sorry.

Sincerely,
Oluse"

He sighed, it had been a long day at the clinic, another long day of false promises that he was fine, that nothing was distracting him. After they read this perhaps they would be closer to understanding. Oluse had never had a way with words, but writing, it seemed easier. He could think out what he wanted to say.

He was upset, however, that the first letter had been concluded. Now a more threatening task faced him, seeming insurmountable in the visage of a blank piece of paper. The job did seem impossible, to turn that blank, lackluster parchment into a confession and apology to the women he loved. Hours passed, more so than the time taken to scrawl the first letter. The words refused to come, forming past nothing but overwhelming feelings in the bit of his stomach, and vague concepts never taking form in the depth of his mind. His feelings felt so much like a dream, his usual dreams, shrouded so thoroughly by his wakefulness, as if some wall had been pulled between he and his own thoughts.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:35 am

It angered him, in all truth. Not toward her, by any means, but toward himself. He had never truly deal with the emotion of that trip, those frozen nights, and the man's blood curdling screams. He couldn't imagine ever overcoming such trauma.

He had murdered a man, taken his life through foolishness and lack of responsibility. Not to mention his own cowardliness which had lead to his torture, a loss of a limb, then finally the loss of his life. His wife, and love. And still more, he had been too much a fool and coward to speak words of comfort to the women left behind. And still, again, he couldn't find those words. He had been putting the encounter off for three seasons, hiding his head from the women, hoping in some secret place that he might die before he had to speak to her. But, alas, the time had come, and he had to write those words and give them to her before the horses road out, and he left Avanthal and all that transpired there behind him. Before he faced again the now unfrozen Tundra.

He let out a verbal groan of frustration and gripped his head, shutting his eyes again the fluttering candlelight. He was tired, he wanted, like every night, to just curl up and go to sleep. Ignore his issue, and slip into his cold sheets where nothing but a dull discomfort could be found to carry him off to his second life, the one he could never see.

Instead, he smelt the oder of himself, and his work assault him. Not only his own body but those of his patients, overwhelmed only by the thick spices of the clinic's cafeteria. He needed to wash himself, and so he gathered himself up, embracing the excuse to step away from the desk, and pulled his creeky door open, out into the hallway which stood wider them his room itself. Drowsy he worked his way downstairs, past the socialites in the common area, to the metal canister but the fire. So many times he had packed the pot with snow, but since the melt a large container of water had been moved beside the fire. Oluse dipped the can in, inciting a deep set of wet clanging echos as he let the water spill into the container. Then, extracted the full container and let the pot hang there a moment over the collection of water, dripping quietly. Oluse watched such as quietly, studying the ripples running along the surface of the water, flinging shadows and light around at calculated whim. Oluse ave a slight smile to this, it was calming and made him feel safer, to see that in nature there was some element of order, evident even to humans.

He hooked the pot over the fire, and watched the dance of flames as the water heated, causing pops and pangs from the metal around it. It wasn't surprising when the proprietor of the warrens engaged him in conversation. Oluse seemed so obviously melancholic, and rarely visited the common area for anything more from the very occasional meal. Even his baths were usually taken at the clinic, for the accommodations were more comfortable. Still, nothing had seemed comfortable in the clinic as of late.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:36 am

"Oluse, how is my little doctor tonight?" She asked quite kindly, with good control of her voice, sing songy as always in Vani. Oluse liked the way the women spoke, a way that made conversation seem private, not as showy as most Vantha.

Oluse didn't, however, know how to respond. He thought a moment of saying what he would to his coworkers, that he was fine, simply tired. Instead, though, all the thought of confessions, all the thought of letters had left him slightly more forthright then usual. So with a simple tone in his voice he continued staring into the fire and said, quite plainly, "I'm leaving. Within a few days. I'm going to Riverfall, with some Drykas." The words still sounded very foreign, and very odd coming in his own voice. It really all just seemed so unlike himself.

The women had to agree, but responded without hesitation. "Well, that is too bad to hear. You have been such a pleasure. Do you intend to return? I could ensure your room is open. Or we could move you to a larger room, I know you can afford it."

Oluse looked at her a moment, but then remembered he had little insight into people. He wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him to stay, or is she meant to be encouraging. Perhaps she was worried, many women seemed to worry about him. He decided to not make assumptions, and just continue as the conversation warranted. "I don't have any plans to return. I bought a horse, and I think when I get to Riverfall I'll sell him. I can pay for this whole season, if you would like."

She was worried for the fourteen year old boy, the one that had silently become fifteen a fortnight before, without sharing the event with anybody. No, she recognized a sadness in him, one that not all people could pull themselves from. He would need all the resources he could manage if he were to find his place. "Oh no, that is fine, just pay for the nights you were here. I insist." She has hoped he had found a place with her, in her inn. But, she had obviously been wrong. She has hoped when he finally left he would return to Denval, but it seemed instead he was running even father away. This saddened her. She found Oluse to be quite the tragic case.

Silence fell over them, as Oluse waited for his water to boil, and the women grasped for words that might express her best wishes for Oluse.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:39 am

Finally, she spoke again. "It seems you are a bit lost in life at the moment. We all feel that way from time to time. It was my own travels in my youth that encouraged me to run this inn, to give a place for people like you and me to rest when we came passing through. And, for a chance to grant some wisdom from an old women." She caught Oluses eyes with hers, in a way that Oluse could not break from, even should he want. A captivating gaze, pregnant with it's profound nature. "Do not forget a single thing. Remember your homes, each bed you sleep in, each person you meet. When you leave do not forget the lessons you have learned."

The comments seemed odd to Oluse. He had help less lost than he had in a long time, even before leaving Denval, since the dream had come. And, he was not one to forget his past. I wondered perhaps if the women had read him all wrong. But, then he thought upon her words. She was right, each experience was important, it prepared you for the next. Those gathered along the shore of that frozen glacier river was no different. Oluse owed it to himself, to finish the memory, to face it, and find out what lesson he was meant to learn. He knew he had dreampt of the monster that morning, before it struck. It wasn't a warning, however, it was a fact. Something within the realm of dreams had told him what would happen, not so he could avoid it, but so he could watch ever horrifying moment of it. And so at the end of the encounter he knew, who the true monster was.

Oluse suddenly overtaken by an unexpected wave of emotions. Sullen, and intense. A sting came to his eyes, and he quickly dismissed himself, taking his water which was no more than luke warm back to his chamber. The he poured it into his large heavy basin, and washed himself clean of his work. And, he thought upon the experience some more. He thought upon those last moments with his lovely guide, before he had left him with silence. And, most of all he thought upon what he should say. Still, nothing came.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:39 am

Finished he sat wrapped in his heavy winters blanket, leaning against the warmth of the brick wall, bordering the chimney. He conspired to relax and meditate as he dried. It had become common practice for him, when thought lay beyond his consciousness he often abandoned thought all together.

Legs crossed and tucked securely upon one another he sat within the warmth of his comforter, flickering light beyond his shut eyelids, and watched the slight pulse of blood through the veins within them. He started there, as usual, feeling the blood through his body, then tuning the breath in his lungs to a steady and deep pace. The headache of the day immediately began to fade. For his last tradition he let his head fall to the stone wall behind him with a slight jolting thud. The world was around him, and in him, and the more he sat the more the two seemed to bleed into one another.

In this state his thought drifted away, coming, then going just as easily. He did not daydream, but let emotions wash through him like currents, more like the natural breath or heartbeat he couldn't stop. His Jamoura friend had promised a day when the thoughts would cease, and another sense would replace it, one that was not mental but spiritual. He hadn't quite mastered just a thing, however he did feel calmer, and with this came the emotions.

They weren't crippling, not when he meditated. They were not harsh or forces, though they did hurt. Thing throbbing pain in his chest, which then washed outward to ever limb, giving a slight aching feeling to his whole body. He still, hurt, felt open from his experiences.

Then the familiar sensation of love filled him, this linked to purely to her, and the time the three had spent together. The excitement of finding a family, and the excitement of his new adventures. Time meant nothing in the zone he found his way into, instead he let it all fall through him. Sometimes, Oluse could swear he felt emotions from the future as well, drifting through him as naturally as those from the present and past.

The whole ordeal calmed him, and when finally his eyes fell open again some notches of the candle had melted away, along with much of the boy's angst. He stood and stretched thoroughly, then, with blanket still bound securely around him, Oluse moved to his desk and put pen to paper without premeditation or thought. He just let the words come to him.

"Dear Maevon,

I'm sorry. I hesitated so long in saying those words, because I know that they change nothing. But, I realize now that they must be said, for they are truth, and the truth must never be hidden, for it leaves nothing but lies or silence. I can not hide in silence any longer, because I am leaving. Soon I leave with a band of Drykas, and head to Riverfall. I had a dream there, remember me mentioning my dreams to you? How I never remember them.

Well, the night of the storm that all changed, Maevon. I changed. I saw a beautiful world, from another time, and I have to learn more. I believe that I'm being called, that I have found a place for myself in the world. It seems skeptical, even to me, that I can be drawn so strongly to a place I sparsely knew existed before the beginning of this long Spring. I sometimes wonder if I have finally gone mad. Perhaps I have.

If not for me, you could have happiness too. And for this I will never forgive myself. I know that you blame me, as you should, for Yurvik's death. For your loneliness, and I sincerely hope some day you will find another to make you smile and laugh as he did.

I will not insult you by offering money in this letter, for I know that no amount of money in the world could ever bring Yurvik home. I will promise you here, in writing, that forever I am your servant. If ever you need anything unfit for a man's tasking I will volunteer, at any price. For my blood, for my life. Even for my soul. I owe you.

I love you, Maevon. And I have done so much wrong, for no reason. I promise you I will never make such mistakes again, for I have been sobered by tragedy. Sobered by blood. I am sorry.

Sincerely,
Oluse"

Some time was spent perfecting the letter after that, slowly and meticulously copying letters down so that the words were legible. In schooling he had learned some spelling and grammar, but still his writing hand had grown sloppy at best in the clinic, scrawling down receipts day in and day out.

Still, he, in his trance like state following meditation found a sort of effortless energy to complete the letters, and sign them carefully. He lay them to dry and cleaned his desk space, packing his belongings as he did every night for the past three seasons, knowing that soon he would actually be leaving as he had been so prepared for for so long.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:39 am

Oluse awoke with a wet feeling, a coldness on his cheek, and a tightening around his chest. He felt confined, and under a constant pressure. Confusing emotions swirled within him, with a sheer intensity, leaving him quick of breath and motionless for some time before he could finally move himself from his blankets.

This clung to him for the day, with the strength it had been several seasons since he felt. He hated such days, days where his mind was dominated by a nagging twisting in his stomach, and pounding on the back of his mind. He performed poorly, but made it through the day, the letters seeming like heavy weight within his pockets. His hand felt cramped from the night before, and overall he ached, as he often did after more intense meditations.

So distracting was all of this that he postpones the letter till that afternoon. It was his last day of work, last chance to deliver the message. Pulling the folded letter from his pocket he sucked nervously on his chapped lip, biting down softly, then began toward the supervisor on staff at the time. She was a severe women, one that thought Oluse out of his depth when he first arrived. In time, however, Oluse had swayed her from the believe with dedication and a few fantastic displays of doctoring on her watch. Since then she had grown to like him, being kind and at times even supportive. If nothing else Oluse had won the pleasure of smiles.

One of which she granted him as she spotted him approaching. In Vani "Hey, Oluse. I was wondering if you wanted to take dungeon shift tomorrow." She referred to drug preparations, Oluses favorite job. He loves spending all day mixing and preparing herbs for the patients. She was kind to schedule him for another day, a favor he would usually jump on with enthusiasm.

Instead his brow creased slightly, and the paper in his hand fell slowly out of sight behind him. He wanted to give the paper, to tell her, but she seemed so kind, so... Trusting. He was going to leave her, and all of them. They depended on him to be there for them to help them save the lives of Vantha. To look after the energetic people. But, Oluse was going to let them all down.

It made no sense, no sense to just leave them. He knew that, yet. "No, I can't."

She looked genuinely surprised, staring a moment at him, stundying his face, his averted eyes. Oluse clearly was uncomfortable, amost ashamed, and she wasn't one to pry. Instead she just gave a confident nod. "Not a problem, Oluse. We can have somebody else fill in. Have a date planned?"

Oluse's lower lip slipped out slightly, in an almost pout. He couldn't stand it any longer. He decided to give her the letter. He looked at her expectantly, prepared to give her a moment to read it, but then realized, near horrifying that his arm had not moved. The letter firmly remained at his side, beyond the awareness of his coworker. He brown knit more together in frustration. He couldn't do it. He was too afraid.

"I need to go." He said quickly, cryptically, and fled from the room, letting the letter itself, now crumbled and crinkled, fall into one of the garbage baskets in the lobby. He didn't look back as he fled, to see what his supervisor thought, or to look upon the faces of the patients in the lobby. He didn't give his usual cheery goodbye, or even acknowledge he was leaving. For good.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:40 am

Once recovered from his failure he took a walk, much longer than needed. He meant to go straight to the Frostfawn hold, but instead found himself on a long tour of all of Avanthal. It was so much less than it had been the first day he had arrived. And the irony of the journey did not escape him. That the very thing he had done after his last time seeing Maevon had been walk around Avanthal. He went to were those beautiful statues had stood and sullenly traced his steps through the empty field. So much art had been lost, and he had to admit it seemed fitting to the occasion. He couldn't help but feel that this was exactly how Avanthal should have looked when he had first arrived, for it was how he felt. Destroyed, and raw. He found in this the courage to finally go to the Frostfawn Hold.

At leas the Holds were still beautiful. Much of the buildings had been damaged by the melt, but the season had made time for repairs, and they now stood as proudly as they had before. if anything, more beautiful, with the rich dirt of Avanthal's soil cropping it. He stepped in, and pulled the final letter from his pocket, looking about for an improvised receptionist that could deliver it for him. And with luck, he stumbled upon a crude looking Vantha man, his charm reminding Oluse much of Yurvik himself. Oluse halted him politely in the wide hall and offered the paper forward with words.

"Sir, would you happen to know if Maevon Frosfawn is currently in the city?" The question, came like everything, in Vani. A quick nod was all Oluse one in response, then after a stern pause he smiled. He played the familiar game of Vantha, where they intimidate for a rouse. But, Oluse was not in the mood. He was mournful, and repentant.

"She sure is, she doesn't travel anymore, not after my cousin, her husband was lost to the Tundra."

Oluse bit his lip to this, how awful it was to here it put to actually. To think of Maevon stuck in a hold that was not her family, without the man that had adopted her in. Oluse nodded, and stated his plea. "Yes, well could you deliver this letter to her. It is very very important that she get it."

He quite simply smiled and nodded his head down the hall behind Oluse, with a smile upon his face, still oblivious to to the gravity of the request. "Deliver it yourself."

A familiar sinking feeling came to Oluse, the one which had proceeded the dream which clung to him for the entirety of the day. Slowly his eyes followed the nod as it directioned through the air, and behind him to the beautiful Vantha women, struck and stunned by the unexpected visage of the Denvali boy, standing with his letter, in her home.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:41 am

Her face, like always, housed the most complex that Oluse had ever witnessed. He had seen people on the brink of death that had expressed less then she could in a single moment. Her eyes shifting, changing, just as her face did, with an amazing amount of composure the Vantha dancer strode toward Oluse.

All else disappeared to Oluse, the man beside him, the hold, the memory of the dream. All he knew in that moment was Maevon striding deliberately forward, she came upon him quickly without hesitation. And Oluse hadn't the time to formulate any thought but resignation to her will.

The strides found her upon him indeed, stationed with body pressed firmly to his, and armed around him. And Oluse felt it, the even pressure around him, the compression on his chest. He looked into her eyes and saw wetness, a deep emotional blue, like the depths of a never ending ocean. She embraces him, with tears her eyes, one that streamed down her face, then with a tug of gravity fell upon Oluses cheek. A coldness.

Oluse still could not comprehend what the women was feeling, what she was thinking. But he felt safe there, in her arms, and he felt her all around him. Evenly applied pressure of emotions, the tighteness in his chest. It was intense, very much so, but was not unduly uncomfortable. To the contrary he felt acceptence in her embrace, and when Oluse went to speak she shook her head quickly to quell his voice, simply pulling him tighter.

"I brought you a letter." Oluse had manged in rather fluent Vani. It was awkward, but all he could thing to say. Nothing had to be said. Maevon did not blame Oluse for what he had done, which did not change what Oluse believed. But, she could not stand his presence, for it reminded her so vividly of her husband, his death, and that long and cruel season in snow, stained with crimson.

She commanded Oluse to leave once she composed herself, and took the letter, She was not a harsh women, by any stretch, but she was not timid about her desires. She wished Oluse to go, and Oluse, thought hurt, excepted the request without protest.

It might seem odd, the one she embraced him, then turned him away, but though Oluse could not explain it he understood it enough. It had offered him closure, and he felt some level of pride that he had done it, he had delivered his letter, and shared his thoughts. And, some comfort in the fact that though Maevon would likely never be in his life again, she still felt care for him. That she still cared deeply for him.

by **Oluse** on May 26th, 2012, 12:41 am

And so, that night Oluse took pen in hand one more time before he would leave Avanthal, to address one more letter, inspired by the day's closure. He worked just as diligently to make this letter legible, and coherent. And in the end he did not deliver the letter, but tuck it secretly into the ice still defining Morwen's castle, to rest for what he believed to be undiscovered forever.

"Dear Morwen,

Goddess of Winter, of Avanthal, or what it was when I arrived. I am not foolish enough to believe you have nothing better to do with your time then read letters from a Denvali born mortal. And, I have no intention of deliver this letter, and wasting your time.

Still, I write because I feel I owe it to myself, and to Avanthal. For three season this city has been home to me. I have grown wise as a physician, and I believe my skills would make my parents proud. I have saved lives of noble people, people I have grown to love. More so, in ways, than my own people of Denval.

I say this in resignation, and with conflict. Both of my homes, Denval, and Avanthal have been home to mistakes. Mistakes of my own, that have caused myself and many others great grief. I have been an accessory to murder now twice in my life, and I do not intend to be so foolhardy to believe that my work here has forgiven me of my crimes.

I know the conditions of my forgiveness, and I am still far from this.

Still, I have find moment of happiness, and some of comfort here. I have met kind and healing people, and have been blessed to see healers that I admire and would strive to be like.

Also, however, I have felt stagnant here, and realize now that Avanthal is a place to hide from the world. S far away are we here in the north, and though the Vantha might feel your grace, your infinite wisdom, I do not. I can not find wisdom in the cold frozen waters, but instead find a dull ache. A dull ache that has been frozen into my bones for three long seasons. And, not, since the tragedy of the melt, I have rediscovered inspiration, and in a way, sheer pain. This is healthy, and so I will run where I can find more. A physician must never heal others, if they themselves are not healthy.

So, farewell, Morwen, and farewell Avanthal. I will never forget what I have learned here. How those in the frozen north can smile, and make jest of pain. How bodies can not only be mended, but also spirits. I will never forget that pain and love and be one in the same. That sometimes paths veer away from those you love the most. And, most of all, I will never, ever, forget that memory itself is our biggest gift. The power to learn from mistakes.

Forever I will keep that small bit of wisdom you and your people have given me inside. Frozen, and untouched. If ever I doubt that I can improve, that I can learn, then I will look upon my time in your city, and I will know that nothing ever remains the same forever. Even stoney hard ice shifts. Even callus hearts melt.

Even the grant city of the north sees sun, that brings water. Everything changes.

Thank you,
Oluse"

by **Valkyrie** on October 31st, 2012, 6:54 pm

Oluse :

You Will Be Collected if Worthy

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.