Hey guys, here's another one, though much, much shorter due to the fact that it is merely an interlude.
I wanted to say thanks to those of you (Myst and Bockus) who put out a review for me. It was very encouraging to see, and honestly made my day, as before I was unsure on reception due to a lack of comments.
Don't know when the fifth chapter will be posted, as I have not yet started on it, but hopefully it won't be too long.
Enjoy.
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The Supplication of Many, Herald of the 1st God War
Oh Lady Selene, Great Goddess of Creation, please heed our call! Your loyal servants bow in supplication to your almighty presence, asking for your mercy and aid in these days of terror. An enemy of all of mankind has appeared from within the Lands of Desolation, strewing chaos in our midst with every step they take, for we, despite being your children, are too weak, lacking in the power necessary to repel these seemingly unconquerable creatures of darkness. I fear that in little time, there will be far too few of us remaining in this world. Grant us your blessings so that we may fight back against the evil in our lands. The Darkness encroaches.
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Katrine slumped down to her knees like a marionette with its strings cut at the sight. Once it had been a lively house filled with laughter, a place that over the years had turned into a second home to her in reality, and the only home to her in her heart. Now it was merely a shell, a smoking ruin of broken timbers and shattered glass that echoed that of her own heart; burnt, tattered, and broken, with all that made it what it was dead and gone, marred beyond recognition like that of the corpses within.
She had spent most of her life roaming the lands surrounding this house on the outskirts of town and the forest beyond. Everything was familiar and safe. She would race to climb the nearby trees as a child, scampering up the branches to squeals of laughter and tears of loss. She would run across the leaf-strewn grass, chasing furiously after a black haired boy who always seemed to be faster than her. She would gaze at the moon from the hilltop nearby, alongside her only friend.
Now, the sight of it all caused a churning in her stomach as it writhed and roiled in wretched misery. It would never be the same. The nearby trees had been seared with fire, burnt beyond recognition. The surrounding land and hillside had lost their luster, turned into a scorched wasteland. And most importantly, the one who had helped to make all of these places home in her memories was gone, leaving only a blackened husk behind to tell the tale of his existence.
She languished in her grief for what seemed like hours before she felt the rough touch of a hand of her shoulder. Turning slowly to face whoever it was, more out of an ingrained response than any real sort of cognitive will, she saw the seemingly concerned eyes of Daryn looking back at her.
That was enough to at least somewhat shock her out of her current melancholic state. She had been forced to accompany Daryn for quite a while now, as they were to be married, and in all of that time, she had never once seen any sort of genial expression from him. Each time they had previously met, whether it be only in passing or for longer periods, he had always seemed to possess a general air of superiority, a slight upward tilt of the chin which seemed to say “I am far greater than you in all aspects, and you would be blind to not notice such.”
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However, today that normal aura seemed to be absent. Instead, he seemed to be truly concerned for Katrine, as if he knew that in such a time, she would need someone to rely on, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to unburden herself to, and maybe even a heart to beat for.
Katrine knew that the current Daryn was likely false, a petty attempt to gain her favor by faking sympathy. However, at the moment, she did not care. All that she felt was pain. The pain of abandonment, the pain of loss, and the torment in knowing that her life would never return to the way it had been. So if it helped her gain some semblance of a life beyond grief, she found that she herself hardly cared if the emotions of the person she was forced to lean on were disingenuous.
Right now what she needed was not to crawl in a pit of her own making and lay there, waiting to die. She needed to live.
In order to do that, she would do whatever it took. If she had to force herself to stay in the presence of a man she nearly abhorred, then that is what she would do, as at least then she would find some way to remember her friend, to grieve, and to later live past that grief, even if his sympathies were falsehoods. In the weak state she was in currently, Katrine surprisingly found herself preferring false platitudes to the alternative, as she knew that in Carthal, nobody else would care that he was gone, and many would even rejoice at seeing the so called demon slain.
Of those who cared for Sevrath, there was only her, his adopted mother, and his adopted father. Now only she remained. So she would take Daryn’s false sympathies and deceitful commiseration. For now. And at the end of it all, she would walk out stronger than she had been before, ready to live her life with a resoluteness which she had previously lacked.
Yes, she would live. She might not ever move on, but she would live. For him.
“Katrine?” She heard a soft voice filled with worry at her ear. Pulling herself together, with effort she stood tall, ignoring the stains left on her dress.
“I am fine” She lied, with a wan smile. “We should be going back to the manor now, there is little we can do here.” Though her heart begged her to stay.
A hint of possessiveness flashed in Daryn’s eyes before once again reverting to his sympathetic posture. “All right, if that is what you wish.” He said softly, before leading her up to his horse. Gripping her hand, he helped her mount.
Feeling his hand linger too long, Katrine tried to think of a way to distract him so that she could easily extricate herself. Looking down at the offending limb, she questioned him with a curiosity she truly did not possess.
“I had not noticed that ring before? When did you start wearing it?”
“Oh this?” He held his hand up, seeming to not realize that he was no longer in possession of Katrine’s. “Recently, my family has taken to having all members of our household wear them, be they guards, servants, or nobles. It is to show the unity of our House, down to the lowest of status. Each one bears our House’s crest.”