The Dream Ends...

He left me.
He chose to stay dead, rather than come back to fight at my side once more.
I thought I knew him. I thought we had goals that aligned. Fixing the world.
I always knew there would be no easy answer, no simple solution. That it would take work and dedication and that maybe we would only do a few good things before our time ran out.
I honestly would have been content with dealing with the dragon and the throne as long as it meant having him at my side. Giving up power and glory and fame would have been worth it to try for something with him. Something different.
Frida might have stayed and I could have learned how to be a sister. I might have learned to be a wife and a mother.
But I was wrong.
I never knew him.
The first thing, the first person who I chose for myself, who I thought had chosen me back – didn’t.
He left me. All alone.
Needle pricks of ice embrace my flesh.
He was never strong enough, brave enough to stand by my side, to do what must be done.
It hurts to learn of it this way. To feel this betrayal.
I tore his necklace from my throat as I wish to tear the taste of his lips from my mind.
My purpose and goals tainted by his cowardice, his refusal to push through the hard truths and realities of this world. My family is trapped as shades of the dead in the ruin of my birthplace for fucks sake and he knew for a fact that I was dual souled, with one having cannibalistic urges that tried to overpower my consciousness at times.
You would think he wouldn’t balk at hearing that he wouldn’t instantly be able to fix any of these extremely difficult problems. But no.
I thought he understood. I was willing to become a monster for him. I instead became a person thanks to him.
And he left that person alone. He left me alone.
Secilia is selfish. Hasim doesn’t care about the bigger picture. Frida is an unknown. Grimaldus is practical but I am still alone with him. Doodles is far away. Damien is most likely lost to us.
All I have left is Inara. And she left me a long time ago, if I ever even had her friendship – true friendship – for any length of time. Ever since we’ve come to the East I feel that all she does is push me away.
I don’t want to be lonely when I’m with other people.
And Inara makes me feel more alone than I ever did before.
So. I am alone now.
I must learn to be lonely
I sat beside his corpse for a while. Long enough for my tears to come.
Long enough for the ice to root in my heart.
I kept some of his scales. I placed them with the pendant of Dekar’s likeness in my belongings. Maybe one day I will want to see them again.
For now I only feel despair.
Despair and determination.
Dekar couldn’t hear the truths in between what he didn’t want to hear.
I’ve spent the last year – longer it feels like – beginning to truly understand My Lord. I know what he might have said and why it might have ended the way it did.
Shard doesn’t lie without purpose. Meaning that what he said was a truth. Given what he said to me I can imagine it wasn’t anything easy to hear. Or say for that matter.
The wheel is broken.
To fix the wheel you must look at the bigger picture.
The bigger picture will take time. I don’t have time, I am mortal.
And so I sought out the one who killed Dekar. My Lord.
Shard has always been about freedom of choice. And it’s now time to make mine.
Domains must be filled. Judge of the Dead – the Death domain – must be filled in order for the wheel to turn once more. In order for the true enemy to be taken down.
And if I were to become Judge of the Dead allied and aligned with My Lord, the Domain of Challenge, we would create a new house in the pantheon of the gods. More potential to fix what is broken.
So I asked him to make me one of his envoys despite now knowing he believed the blood kiss to be an abomination, a mistake. I asked him to give me time so that I may work towards these goals.
It’s not like I have any loved ones left after all.
He told me he would make me an envoy if I killed Peter Plogojowitz. One of two envoys left. A betrayer, who was punished by Shard himself by being cursed…and having his arm ripped off. A vampire with a permanent anti-magic field around him. Difficult to kill, but not insurmountable.
He granted me the blood kiss in the mean time, although he warned me that it would be wild and uncontrolled.
Lady San Marie gave a dead line. Shard was willing to overcome it, but this too he gave warning about.
He told me Lady San Marie would scorn me. I don’t particularly give a shit about her good opinion. I’m not doing this for politics or clout, I am doing this to have the time and skills and strength needed to play the long game. To try and fix the world.
He told me Loec would hate me. Once again I don’t give a shit about their feelings on the matter.
I care not for if I gain followers, I care not for the religion, for now I see the true tenants and reason behind what Shard does.
He truly is trying to fix what is broken in this world, to protect the people from the world from the true enemy. Individualism matters not in the face of such goals.
So now I must either sit on the throne to gain the domain of Judge of the Dead or destroy it, collect the pieces – risking sanity along the way – to then gather the domains for ourselves at the Akashic library. Somehow I think that the throne is more palatable as I doubt any of us want to end up like Vignir.
The terrible calamity that would happen from the pieces being used is also a huge deterrent.
I’m just trying to fix what I can. Not make it worse.
And so I took his curse.
I offered up one last salute to him before I drank of his blood.
It was odd and unexpected. Both fire and ice brewed in my veins and in that moment, I felt more alive than I ever had before. Until I began to die.
The convulsions were…terrible…the earth breaking and shattering around me.
The dying itself is easier than one would think.
My Lord’s hand squeezing my last breaths from me.
In that moment I had never felt more alive, more human. And in that moment, I wanted to remind him that this choice was mine and mine alone.
So I held the hand that killed me as I died, to show that there was no ill will on my part.
In the end this is what I asked for.
In the end this is what would have always been.
Ice crept in and I knew no more.
Until I lived again.
But an unlife. A terrible life.
The ice is around me, the cold so bitter I feel as though I should have been able to see my breath.
Yet I do not, can not breath.
I awaken to this cursed existence from a dream. Innocuous at first before quickly becoming uncomfortable. Holding hands in a field until the field begins to burn. Being kissed by an older man – Eusif? Disjointed images of blood and memory. Fantasies about blood, tearing open Dekar’s corpse and devouring his flesh.
And then I open my slitted eyes, so much more powerful than they once were.
My flesh is no longer my flesh.
My bones crack all at once.
My skin feels unnatural, as though beneath it ice made flesh resides.
Yet I cannot melt.
I smell the most delicious smell and saliva pools in my mouth.
Careful, careful, I have trod this path before – so long ago now it seems – in my hometown in Latria. I cannot afford to alienate my current allies, cannot afford to give in.
A part of me cries out for Inara for Grimaldus, for Rowan to look at me the same. To care for me the same.
I expect their betrayal but fight against it all the same.
The ice takes hold and time passes but I feel it no more.