InsaneJournal

Groggily Necronim struggled out of bed, moving clumsily for the first time in years. He groaned, hands running back through his hair, then looked up to see Hresden standing in the door with a tray of food in his hands.

“Hungry?” asked the mage.

“Starving,” growled the rogue as he tugged the blanket around his hips. He then frowned, adding, “Its so strange to…”

“To feel again?”

“Yes.” Necronim winced and stared towards the wall beyond which he knew was the room was Kalya had been moved to with Kwaaku watching over her. “I can’t imagine what she’s feeling to have all that suddenly gone.”

Then he buried his head in his hands, feeling the bitter ache of having betrayed someone, murmuring, “I can’t believe I did that to her.”

Hresden frowned as he sat the tray down on the chair placed near the bed, saying, “She is no longer in pain.”

“Living like that is a pain in itself!” snapped Necronim. He then glared at the tray of food, no longer hungry with the thought of how she might be suffering. “And now I did that to her.”

“Nec…that monster did this to her with his spell.”

“And who agreed to let you all speed it to its end? I agreed tothat, Hres! I did this to her this time, not him.”

The elf sighed and moved the tray to the floor so he could take the chair, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. He steepled his fingers as he said, “Nec…”

“Saran.”

“What?”

“Saran,” breathed the rogue, bowing his head with fingers tangled in his hair. “I…I’m human again, Hres. Call me by my name.”

Hresden smiled, cocking his head slightly to the side. “It will be strange changing after all these years.”

“Please…try.”

“For you, my friend. For you.” The mage sighed then and said, “Ne –Saran, Kalya will forgive you for this. She will understand.”

“And if she doesn’t?” he asked.

“She will.”

“You don’t know that!” exploded Saran as he surged onto his feet. He glared down at Hresden, just barely catching the sheets before they slid to the floor, and howled, “You have no idea how that existence makes you feel! I spent that first year after I regained control of myself doing everything I could to die. And even after I didn’t care what happened to me! The only thing that kept me from shoving myself only a paladin’s blade was Kwaaku’s damn stubbornness!”

Hresden just stared calmly up at him, lifting one hand slightly.

“That,” he said gently, “is why you should not fear her pushing you away, my friend. She needs you.”

“She needs me to stop interfering in her life!”

“I think it is too late for that,” said Hresden.

Saran scowled then slumped back down onto the bed, all anger seeping out of him. He ran a hand back through his hair, grumbling, “I don’t think she’ll want to see me after what I’ve done to her. Damnit, Hres, I wouldn’t want to see me if I were in her place!”

“Butyou are not her,” pointed out the mage, leaning forward. “I have not known her long but I do know that she is a strong and very brave young woman. And she will forgive you.”

He then rose, continuing with a slight chuckle, “Though I suggest you try to eat something and get some clothes on over that skinny chest before you go talk to her.”

Saran watched him go then frowned at the tray of food sitting nearby. Sighing, he leaned over and tore off a chunk of bread to cram into his mouth as he stared at the wall Kalya lay on the other side of.

He’d hurt her so much…

Could she really forgive him?

And could he forgive himself for doing it?

Kwaaku looked up as the door eased open, one large hand moving protectively to touch Kalya’s forehead. His single eye fixed on the door, body tensing, then a slightly familiar human face peered in. He recognized the shape of the face and the shoulder length dark hair before anything – the guilt in the dark blue eyes cemented who it was.

“Nec,” he rumbled in greeting.

“Kwaa,” replied the rogue as he eased into the room. He looked ill at ease in his returned form, the Tauren observed, and still moved slightly hunched over. Besides that he looked…frail. Like someone would touch him and he would crumple into nothing. “Just…Saran, please. Call me Saran.”

Kwaaku nodded then moved his hand from Kalya’s head and heard a choked groan come from his friend’s throat. Sadly, he watched the rogue move forward and fall to his knees at the head of the bed, the expression on his face one of deep regret.

Saran leaned forward and gently touched her hair, the auburn locks darker than he remembered but still soft. Then he dared look at her face, which was blessedly clear of the same rot his had suffered. The only things that even made her look different was the blue-gray pallor of her skin and the dark holes were her eyes had been.

“Oh, Kalya,” he breathed, moving his hands to frame her face. Then he bowed his head to touch hers and felt the tears come, his shoulders shaking as sobs began to ravage his chest. “Look what I’ve done…oh, Light, look what I’ve done to you.”

He felt her shift then and sensed Kwaaku moving back, the dull clipping of his hooves across the floor signaling his leaving.

“S-Saran?”

He lifted his head then and found himself staring down into bright golden eyes. Kalya smiled at him and lifted a half-rotted hand to touch his cheek.

Then there was the dull crack of bone against flesh and he twisted away, slumping to the floor with his back against the bed. His cheek screamed with pain and he found blood dripping down his chin from where the tips of her fingers had ripped open the skin.

“Youbastard,” she snarled from behind him, bones creaking as she rose. Then a choked sob made him cringe and turn back towards her, seeing her crumpling against the wall with a distraught expression. She glared at him as he slowly rose to his feet and hissed, “How could you? We could have stopped it! We could have stopped it!”

“Kalya,” he started.

“Kwaa told me you let them do this. You did this!”

Saran’s shoulders slumped and he stood there, feeling the worst he had in his entire life with blood dripping off his chin to the floor. Then he softly said, “You might have died if I hadn’t let them do this. Hres told me that you might not have survived any further shock from allowing the spell to progress as slowly as it was.”

Lifting his head to look at her, he continued, “Kwaa felt your heart stop…did he tell you that? I felt mine start at that moment we both collapsed – felt everything in me restart and try to survive in a dead body. You were blessedly unconscious at that point so you felt nothing.”

He lifted one hand to his cut cheek to try and stop the bleeding in a pause. Then he looked hard at her, finishing, “If I hadn’t told them to do this, you might have died. And…and Light help me, I would rather have you hate me than be dead.”

She stared at him for a long moment then said, “Get out.”

“Kalya…”

“GET. OUT!”

Saran bowed his head at that, nodding slightly as he turned towards the door. As he opened it, he paused, looking back towards her sitting there curled up against the wall, with hate and sadness twisting her face into something horrible.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured then dove through the door, fleeing back to the refuge of his own room. He slammed the door closed behind him and dragged the bed forward to block it before he picked up what was left of his old shirt, pressing it against his face. Blood stained it quickly but he didn’t care…he sank down onto the bed and slumped against the door heavily.

The tears and sobs returned then and he surged forward abruptly, dry heaving in an attempt to bring up what little he’d eaten. When those faded, he stayed like that, eyes closed tight as he used a corner of the shirt to wipe his mouth.

See how it is?

He whipped upright at that, eyes wide. “You,” he gasped. “How…”

You think this comes without a price? Ah, no, no, m’boy, it does not. This new form of yours comes with a much heavier price.

“I didn’t want this!” roared Saran, surging onto his feet.

The voice chuckled darkly around his skull then purred, Do you think you are really alive again?

He twitched, shocked, then hissed out, “What are you talking about?”

Do you believe you are really alive again?

“What am I if not?!”

Something new, replied the voice. Something…more than Forsaken but still less than human. And you could be great with me and your fellows, Saran Tathdyl. With your help we could rule this world.

Saran stood glaring at the ceiling for a moment then growled, “No. Help you? Help you after you hurt her?! NEVER!”

The voice sighed then, saying, Hmm, I suppose that is that then. Ah well, I shall just have to work with the ones I have. More’s the pity though…you could have been of great use to me. But since you refuse, I have no choice but to be rid of you.

“What?” he hissed then choked as pain ripped through his entire body, falling twitching to the floor. Gasping, he clawed at the floor as he writhed wildly, only just hearing someone banging on the door.

“Nec! NEC! SARAN!”

He tried to choke out something to say but was only able to release a strained scream of agony. There was a curse from the other side of the door then a bolt of ice snapped the wood in half before crashing into the wall across the room. Hresden shoved his way through the shattered door, splinters digging into his arms, with Caren behind him.

The druid immediately dropped next to him and reached out her hand, only to be stopped by a snap of lightning between his body and her hand. She cursed before holding both hands out at just the distance where the lightning would not touch. Saran froze in mid twist for a moment, staring at her, then heard her snap in a commanding voice that brooked no argument, “Sleep!”

He felt the two magic’s struggle with each other, fighting over him, then one won. Which he wasn’t sure but he was sinking into blessed unconsciousness and the pain was fading. And that was all that mattered.