In the quiet homestead of their shared life, Naya had a husband—a man with a perpetual grumpiness that echoed through his frequent complaints and a scowl that could send others fleeing for cover. Despite these formidable traits, Naya cherished him dearly; to her, he was the entire world encapsulated in human form.
Within the confines of their private universe, Naya's love for her husband surpassed the challenges presented by his gruff exterior. To her, he was not merely a man; he was the very essence of her world. In Naya's perspective, a person, be it a man or woman, couldn't truly exist without the anchoring presence of their own world—and for her, that world was embodied in the often stern but deeply beloved figure of her husband.
Naya could still recall that moment as vividly as if it were yesterday when her husband had passionately made love to her. As a humble farmer girl, she had never envisioned such a fiery romance befalling her. Her husband, a rugged man bearing scars etched into every inch of his skin, possessed a primal intensity reflected in his beast-like eyes.
In the recollection of that passionate encounter, Naya marveled at how her life, once bound by the simplicity of a lowly farmer's existence, had been irrevocably altered by the unexpected flame of love that had ignited between them. The memory lingered, a stark contrast to the simplicity of her former life, forever altering the narrative of the lowly farmer girl who had unexpectedly found love in the arms of a man with a history etched in scars.
Seated by the hearth, the warmth casting a gentle glow on her weathered face, Naya would often find herself lost in the memories of when she first encountered her future husband. In a time marked by strife and death, she stumbled upon him in a wretched state—wounded, teetering on the edge of death, blood cascading from his chest, his heart seemingly missing. In that dire moment, Naya took it upon herself to care for him.
As the flickering flames danced in the hearth, one act of kindness led to another, and against the backdrop of adversity, an inexplicable bond blossomed between them. The wounded man, on the verge of losing his life, found solace and affection in the heart of the lowly farmer girl. In the end, love, unforeseen and unfathomable, emerged from the shadows of despair, intertwining their fates in a tale that defied the grim circumstances that had initially brought them together.
In the heady days of youth, Naya and her future husband chose a path of audacity—they eloped. Both just stepping into adulthood, Naya at 19 and him at 20, they embraced the daring spirit that came with young love. The decision weighed heavy on Naya, acknowledging the pain it would bring to her family. Yet, the alternative—a fate where she could be sold off to another farm as a stranger's wife or, in essence, another piece of property—was a prospect she couldn't bear.
Fueled by the fervor of their connection and a desire to forge their own destiny, Naya and her husband-to-be ventured into the unknown, leaving behind the familiar confines of family and tradition for the uncharted territory of their shared journey.
A whimsical recollection crossed Naya's mind, a moment when her husband, overcome by lust, had thought he had "raped" her, blaming an alleged irascible alter ego—an 'Enderman'—that supposedly took command in his unconscious state. Amused, Naya found humor in his confession, having never witnessed this elusive 'Enderman' her husband spoke of.
In response to his concerns, Naya laughed, dismissing his worry with a playful rebuke. "You fool! Of course, there is mutual consent! If there wasn't, I would have bitten my tongue right there!" she chided. Naya, with a lighthearted tone, teased her husband about his seemingly faltering memory, a gentle reminder that despite the passing years, their connection remained a source of shared laughter and understanding.
One fateful day, as her husband embarked on another campaign, Naya fell victim to a mysterious ailment. Initially brushing it off, thinking of it as a passing sickness, Naya continued with her life... but the condition only worsened with each passing day. Concerned, Naya sought the aid of a healer, hoping for a remedy to her deteriorating health. To her dismay, the revelation was grim—it wasn't an illness; it was a curse that had befallen her.
As the weight of the revelation sank her heart, Naya, resilient and determined, chose not to succumb to despair. Braving the curse's effects, she patiently awaited her husband's return, knowing that together they could confront and conquer whatever malevolent force sought to cast a shadow upon their shared life.
Upon discovering Naya's curse, her husband's initial reaction was a fiery anger, teetering on the edge of blind rage. Only through Naya's soothing persuasion did he manage to suppress the tempest within. Driven by a fierce determination, he embarked on a relentless quest, traversing the realm far and wide in search of a solution to undo the curse that had befallen his beloved.
Despite the outward strength he projected, Naya could see the hidden turmoil beneath the surface. Her husband, silently battling the shadows of the curse, carried a burden that transcended the physical realm. Naya sensed the haunting echoes of the dead that tormented him, akin to the anguished cries of a Wraith. When she dared to confront him about the silent screams that reverberated within him, he offered only comfort, assuring her that he had grown accustomed to the haunting echoes.
This revelation, rather than easing Naya's worry, stirred a profound sadness within her. The realization that her husband had become accustomed to the relentless cries of the dead spoke volumes about the depth of his sacrifice and the emotional toll the curse, Naya should be suffering alone, had exacted upon him.
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Naya's husband, a seasoned mercenary, thrived on a trade that dealt in death for coin, showcasing exceptional martial prowess that he often boasted about. The frequency and abundance of the coins he brought home became a somber indicator to Naya, a silent proof to the toll of lives he had taken in the pursuit of his profession. Despite the unsettling nature of his profession, Naya's love for her husband prevailed.
In the face of his chosen path and the shadows that accompanied it, Naya clung to the belief that her love provided a unique anchor in a world that might otherwise judge him harshly. Acknowledging his flaws and the darkness that surrounded him, Naya grappled with the reality of his deeds. Yet, she clung to her love for him, recognizing that beneath the veneer of a skilled killer, there existed the man she had chosen to share her life with. For Naya, loving her husband meant seeing beyond the deeds that stained his hands, understanding that in the vastness of their world, it was her choice to love the man others might shun.
The curse, an enduring affliction, etched decades of pain into Naya's existence. A relentless thorn in her heart brought on aches that pushed her to the brink, inducing periods of delirium. Adding to the anguish, the curse barred the possibility of conceiving a child, casting shadows over hopes of legacy and family.
Then, one day, as abruptly as it had begun, the curse ceased. Naya's husband returned home, and tears of joy welled in his eyes at the sight of his wife restored to health. Although the passage of time had closed the door to parenthood at ages 67 and 68, respectively, her husband expressed contentment. He declared that he cared not for progeny but found pure happiness in her well-being. Naya, in turn, found solace in his joy, grateful for the love that transcended the pains of the past.
Her husband's decision to retire from the mercenary life marked a significant shift, as he vowed to stand by Naya until their final days. Strangely, mixed emotions enveloped Naya when she heard this promise, a hint of sadness beneath the surface. Yet, amidst this complex sentiment, the everyday reality unfolded as a source of pure joy.
Each passing day became a testament to her husband's unwavering commitment. He pampered her with jokes, spoon-fed her, wove tales that entertained her, and embraced her each night. In these simple yet profound gestures, Naya found her happiness distilled, a tangible warmth that eclipsed any transient sadness. Their shared moments became a sanctuary, a haven where love and companionship bloomed, transcending the shadows of the past and paving the way for a serene and contented present.
The flickering flames in the hearth cast dancing shadows across the chamber as the couple sat by the fire. The wife's eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, searched her husband's face for reassurance.
Naya gazed into her husband's weathered eyes, a lifetime etched in their lines. "Do you truly mean it?"
He chuckled, a raspy echo of his youthful laughter. "Mean what, my love?"
"That you'll stay by my side until my final breath?"
He grasped her hand, calloused fingers intertwining with hers. "Aye, without a doubt. I'd follow you into the great unknown."
A smile played on Naya's lips. "Such a jester you've become. Though, if you ever fancy a younger lass and wish for a child, I wouldn't mind."
His eyes softened, warmth lingering in the depths. "My heart belongs to you alone, Naya. No other could fill the space you hold."
The husband, with a mischievous glint in his eye, spoke in jest, "On second thoughts, if the offer still stands... maybe we can do the same for each other? Say, find yourself a strapping young lad to care for you when I'm gone."
Naya chuckled, affection in her gaze. "You know you're the only one for me, my rugged bandit."
He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Yet you're willing to share? Sounds contradictory, my love."
Naya raised an eyebrow, bemused. "Huh?"
Her husband grinned mischievously. "You did give me permission to find a younger woman to carry my child."
Naya playfully elbowed him. "Oh, sure, but no dinner for you. And absolutely no visiting brothels after I'm gone."
He feigned protest. "Oh, come on!" In the end, the husband found himself in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
Naya tasted the gruel and wrinkled her nose. "You're a terrible cook, too much salt."
Her husband looked guilty. "Sorry, but I think I roasted the pheasant quite well..."
Naya gave a nod of approval. "It receives a passing grade." She eagerly ate, and a smile lit up her face.
He teased, "Hey, careful... you might choke, you know? And the bones, they might hurt you..."
Naya waved him off. "Bah~! Just eat, before I finish it all."
He chuckled, "Sure, sure... Next time, I'll roast you a pig's head or some crow's feet."
Naya grinned, "I'd rather slurp on fish head."
"Bet. I'll catch something tomorrow," he declared with a twinkle in his eye.
As they lay in bed, entwined in each other's embrace, Naya spoke softly, "I always wanted a son, you know? A mini you..."
He considered for a moment before suggesting, "Let's adopt."
Naya's eyes reflected uncertainty. "Will I be a good mother? I left my home and eloped with you... I don't think..."
He interrupted with a gentle command, "Shut up. You will be a good mother. No, the best. Look, you mother me all the time, right?"
Naya smiled, "Yeah, and you will be a good father too."
He chuckled, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "Oh, come on... I will do my best, though."
Naya looked into her husband's eyes, seeking assurance. "Do you promise?"
He hesitated, then replied, "Yeah, I swore to the Spinner of Fate."
Naya shook her head, a playful glint in her eye. "I know you don't trust the Divines, so don't swear under their names... swear to me."
He sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Fine... I promise to you, my dear wife, Manaya Lifer, that I will be a good dad if the opportunity ever arose."
Naya raised an eyebrow. "That's it? The best you got?"
He smirked. "What else do you want me to do?"
"Seal it with a kiss," she declared.
He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed him back, and soon, they embraced, drifting into a peaceful sleep together.
Naya had been the happiest. She wouldn't have exchanged a single second of it for any treasure in the world. However, her joy, their joy, was short-lived. Naya didn't last a week before she succumbed, her vibrant spirit fading away, and the toll of the years finally taking claim of her. One night, within her husband's embrace, her heartbeat came to a still, and the warmth she brought into their shared world dimmed.
The husbdand, Enevar Lifer, didn't hear anymore of his wife since then.