To The Grave We Go

While visiting Dahlia's grave, Kol finds that he's not alone.

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To The Grave We Go

Postby Kol on July 28th, 2014, 3:20 am

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40th of Summer, 514 A.V.

The soil was still noticeably turned, a body now deep within the ground. Kol sat by dirt. It was flatter, but not as packed as its surroundings. To those without knowledge of what lay beneath, perhaps it would have gone by unnoticed. Four days travel from Taloba, he had gone out on a scouting mission, making sure to stop by a place that held so many dark memories.

He closed his eyes, laying flat on his back. He listened, no care to what predators could be lurking above, or around him. His body and soul ached, his chest feeling as though it was going to split open. It was hard to breath a lot lately, like his body wanted to stop his suffering as well.

I miss you.

Not a sentimental person, he barely knew what to do with all the emotional turmoil he was feeling. He had justified his actions so many times, remembering what Dahlia had asked, what she had begged him to do.

She said Myri would understand, that she would be able to start a new life of purpose. It was the way their people were. What more could she have done if they were to go back to Taloba? The questions Dahlia had haunted him with pained him more than ever. I would have protected you. Nothing would have ever hurt you again.

Kol sucked in a shaky breath, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. So much regret, and yet what he had done had been the only decision he could have made. He didn't keep her safe and she had asked for death. Kol would give those he care about anything, even if it hurt him. Even if it pushed him away from his family. That was what was best for her, not him, and he had followed through.

Eyes beginning to water, the male stopped the liquid in its tracks, furiously wiping his eyes and taking in forced, deep inhales. The memory so infused within his mind, he could almost hear his sister's voice, as if she was repeating the words from her grave.

Thank you, brother.

Like a hush of wind, the short haired male whispered back, staring into the treetops above, "You're welcome."


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To The Grave We Go

Postby Tazi on August 22nd, 2014, 8:21 pm

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Everything that had happened in the last 40 days seemed a blur to her as she trekked back home. Home. That was a word she never thought she would be able to use again. In the last fifteen days or so, everything had changed. What she had seen and what she had done were tales that needed to be shared with the matriarch’s of Taloba. Myri needed to be told. On her journey back from Zinrah, Tazi had already been contemplating how she was going to share this news. No one trusted her, and she doubt anyone missed her. She was simply a face that had fallen to the wayside. Would Traya call her mad for the things she had seen? Would people chase her from the city until her feet bled? Would no one here her stories as truth? The weight of such worries was getting to her, and she had to stop for a moment, panting heavily.

She had not stopped walking since she fled from Zinrah. She had gotten into the bowels of the city itself by some magical feat, something she could not really explain as of yet. Even after sparing some fellow Myrians a torturous death by Dhani hands, the greatest triumph was being able to walk out of the nest relatively unharmed. Placing her head against the rough bark, she stared ahead. Oh how she had changed since leaving the city. Forai might even be a little bit proud of her adventures. It was this thought that lit the fires in her again. Rage burned through her and she pushed forward again. If her mother had just loved her in the first place, none of this would have happened! She would still be in Taloba, healing the sick and living a life of peace. Maybe something would have even happened with Kol, and what of his sister? Was she becoming an amazing healer now in her stead?

Something ahead of her caused her to pause and duck down. Someone was moving, something big and tan. It moved fast though, and Tazi was quick to follow at a distance. Her feet fell as quietly as she could muster, her eyes sticking to the ground to watch for dead sticks that would easily break and alert this creature to her presence. Soon she was on the edge of a small clearing, where he was sitting. Upon observation, she noticed something strange about the firt he was sitting next to. It had been turned. What was beneath it? A grave this far from Taloba gave her suspicion that it was not a Myrian. Myrians were honored in their death if their bodies had been returned to Taloba. Even without a physical thing to bury, families often marked graves for family members that never returned. When he flopped onto his back, she lifted herself up a little more. Classic Myrian, not one she easily recognized. He did not have much hair and few markings on his skin to really give his origins away. Of course, since they were kin, she felt safe enough to remain in the area.

Whatever had been going through his mind ended in some sort of whisper. Tazi saw his lips move, but the words were carried off into the forest by a light breeze. Seeing this as an opportune moment to step forward, she moved into the clearing, kneeling down to unload her pack from her shoulders. How she had changed. The leather bit she normally kept her in hair was long gone. Straight black hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall of the darkest waters. Her shirt was dirty, bloodied, and ripped in small areas where she had been ‘attacked.’ Even her pants, formerly poofy and white, were tattered with rips and blood. Scabs could be seen beneath these slashes if her clothes fell appropriately. Dirt covered her skin, making her gnosis and tattoo difficult to decipher. Solemnly she stood up, lowering her head in a respectful way to whomever was being mourned.
”You are a long way from the city warrior. For whom do you mourn?”

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To The Grave We Go

Postby Kol on August 22nd, 2014, 9:39 pm

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So absorbed in his own thoughts, Kol had not heard the woman approach, but when her question floated to his own ears, his back tensed. He had not expected someone to be so close. Kol turned his head slightly, acknowledging that he had heard the call. He just... wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't want to answer. Keeping the death of his sister had been his own secret, one that had cost him the pride of his family and left him lost. When Dahlia had passed, Kol had become tormented. He had not been prepared for the aftermath of his own guilt.

Not one to ask for pity or seek attention, Kol had cut his hair and said nothing of it. Not many at the barracks knew him well enough to care, and he had found himself avoiding those he once held close. He would handle this by himself, just as he had before. No one but Dira had been present at the true passing of his sister, and no one knew the truth. Even though this stranger had asked, Kol had no intention to answer. Something was familiar, but familiar enough.

Kol lifted his eyes up along the Myrian woman. Her dress was like a ghost, a haunting image of a happy experience that had been warped, her hair free, wild, and long. And her eyes. Remembrance flickered in Kol's own intense gaze, like a spark trying to light. He sat up slowly, attention never wavering from her face, "Tazi."

Their encounters had always been so brief, but he kept an image in his mind of the healer, conjuring images of her now and again. What he saw now challenged the vision he kept of her, but somehow fit the setting. He did not know why she was out here, or why she was looked the way she did. Just that she was there. He repeated her name in his head, dispelling any doubt. It was Tazi.

But perhaps he was not so easy to recognize? Did she not know who he was? Hair that had once been long and kept neatly held back was now chopped short, layered and wild. His dark locks had yet to be properly taken care of since he had brought a dagger to them, and his outfit was disheveled from making the trip out here. His stubble was darker, and he looked unkempt. Something so uncharacteristic of the male.

Kol did not move from his spot, siting next to the grave, but sat quietly, watching. After a moment, he tore his eyes from the female, glancing at his discarded weapons that laid not far away beneath a tree. He was unarmed. His whip waited for him patiently, its presence without Kol strangely lonely. He motioned for her to walk closer, "Come here."
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To The Grave We Go

Postby Tazi on August 27th, 2014, 4:21 am

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When her name left his lips, Tazi instantaneously became confused. Her mind reeled tripping over itself as she tried to remember this person. Without so much as a marking to identify a clan, and an unfamiliar face, his identity escaped her for the time being. So she kept quiet, allowing his eyes to wander every inch of him, trying to remember who he was. He was strong looking for a male Myrian, with large hands and strong arms. Something in the back of her mind fluttered at the sight of those arms. She blinked, squinting her eyes just a little as she continued to work towards his face. Strong shoulder, cut chin. Finally her eyes met his and it seemed to click. Had he long hair like she remembered, it probably would not have taken her as long to recognize Kol.

Her mouth dropped open as she stared into his eyes. He was so different. His hair was short, he was not clean-shaven, and all around he looked far more Myrian than she had ever seen him before. Sure, he had had all the basic characteristics of a Myrian before. Now he just appeared to be more rugged and dark. It made her skin crawl a little bit. What had happened that made him change so drastically? And who was buried next to him? Did the deceased have anything to do with Kol’s change in character? Her eyes ghosted over the land as his moved toward his weaponry. They were familiar weapons in an unfamiliar place. Had she ever seen him unarmed before in the wilds? Of course, she really had not encountered him many times before. She would not really be able to say if this was abnormal or not.

When he summoned her, Tazi began to chew on her lip. He seemed like a stranger to her, not the man that she had been making out with in a closet filled with towels and bowls. He was not the same man that she had met out in the jungle as he gazed upon her nude body. Yet, she could not deny his request. Her stride was small and timid, but with a few steps, she became surer of herself. Closing the distance, Tazi slowly lowered herself into a sitting position on her knees next to his knees, staring at him. It was probably weird, how she was looking at him, but she could not help it.
”Kol…” His name was a welcomed tingle on her lips as she reached a hand towards his face, aiming to cup his face and solidify the fact he was not a figment of her imagination.

”What happened?” It seemed to be the simplest way to word all her question. Who died? Why was the grave so far from the city? Why did he cut his hair? How had he been? Her mind sped through the list of questions, anxiety crawling up into her throat from the pit of her stomach. If she was to start asking question, then he would start asking questions about her. So far, she and Peia had made an agreement to keep Kol in the dark about her banishment. Did he know now? Did he even notice that she was gone? Pulling her hand away from his face, from his cheek or from the air, she set it down in her lap. It was in his court. Would the mouse remain silent, or would he open up like she was working so hard at doing.

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To The Grave We Go

Postby Kol on August 27th, 2014, 7:57 pm

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What happened?

Kol had to stop from recoiling at her touch, sitting still while he felt the warmth of her palm resting on his cheek. His eyes stared past her, searching for the answer. What happened? What could he say? What did he want to say? Kol locked his jaw and looked at the grave next to him. He hadn't voiced the events, nor gone into any detail. Could he trust Tazi? Had he known her long enough?

The male remained silent for some time, eyes hardening. He needed the practice. It was time to come to terms with it. Tazi had been a companion the few times they had spent time together and he didn't have anyone else remotely close. He would tell her, "Dahlia died." He cleared his throat plucking a blade of grass from the soil and rolling it between his fingers.

"She never returned from her trial," His family flickered in his mind, their disappointment when Dahlia had not returned, and then their disdain. His mother had half way expected it. His eldest sister spoke ill of Dahlia, causing the fight that began Kol's tension with his kin. Her words echoed in his mind, making him tense with anger.

'Dahlia was too weak. It was a service that she did not become one of us. Savages should fear us, not laugh when they see every runt of the litter.'

It was then that Kol had punched Kah'ri in the mouth, busting her lip and knocking her sideways. The moment had been fast, but the memory remained crystal clear. Looking at the female in front of him, Kol pushed the thought away, "I haven't told Traya yet." Or anyone. People can assume Dahlia's death, Kol did not want to relay details. The elderly woman at the medicine house had been too skilled at seeing what was trying to be kept hidden. Kol didn't want her to pry, or worse, figure it out.

I'm back in the military. I do not stay with my family." He shrugged as though the new information was of little importance. Kol felt detached, forcing himself to stay in the moment, "You look different."

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