an unforgivable tragedy; uncle kade

[Rora]

It’s over. It’s done. I did the best I could, bent time as far as I was able to make his last days last as long as possible, but last night, my dad looked at me with his soft blue eyes, and I just knew. He was tired. So very, very tired. And holding on was making me tired too, draining something out of me that he didn’t want me to give away, not to keep him here with us. Not when he was ready to go. I had to let him.

Mom and I curled up around him, wrapping him up in all our love. We stayed up all night, just holding him and letting him know with our presence and soft touches and softer words how very much we loved him. Mom made the light dance for him. For all of us, really, because I think by then we needed it more than he did.

Before the sun rose again, he was gone.

I don’t have words to express how much it hurts. How hard it is to breathe, knowing I’ll never see those sky blue eyes light up with love and affection, never feel the warmth of his embrace again. He’ll never feel the sun shining on his face like this, or the breeze tangling in his mane. He’ll never hear the wind rustling in the trees or curl up with me in our favorite little hollow under our favorite tree and just talk about everything and nothing.

I have to live in a world without my dad in it. And I don’t know how to do that. It doesn’t matter that we’ve known this day was coming. It doesn’t matter that we watched it closing in as his body wasted away and his strength ebbed, as his coat grew dull and his bones stood out more and more. It doesn’t matter that death crept up on him slowly and gave us time to say goodbye. It still feels so...sudden.

I stare out into the forest, not seeing the trees or the brush, the sky peeking through the canopy or the ground below my feet. Not seeing the plethora of growing things, new starts, new lives beginning even as old ones end. I would be crying, but I ran out of tears sometime in the last few hours, and now all I feel is this hollow, aching emptiness in my chest.

Mom needed some time with him. By herself. She’d never have said it, but I could see it in her eyes, something shaky and desperate, words she needed to get out that she couldn’t say in front of me, couldn’t even say in front of him while he was still here. And I...I couldn’t stay there, curled up around his body as it cooled, standing vigil for a soul that wasn’t there anymore. So I got up, kissed Mom’s forehead, and left to give her the time and the space she needed to mourn.

And now...god, I don’t know what to do now.

(Talked to Tinsel, since she's on an undetermined-length away, and this is the solution we came up with together. Rest in peace, Rhory.)

[Akkadian]

He was a fool to think it would all just go away. But each night it returned to haunt him.

In another place, in another land, so far now it could even have been another reality, a kingdom fell. The royal family had ruled as a dynasty, passed from generation to generation for six rightful successions. And they all died because of him. His family. The kingdom fell to their enemies while he was away and like a coward he ran.

But he'd never outrun his shame.

Here, in this world, this Beqanna, he'd drifted and melded into the background. As he was meant to, as he was trained to. He watched, he waited. He kept active and sharp, held the condition of his warrior's body and strength, stamina, agility. He even passed on some knowledge to the girl that had become his world, trained her as a child in the form of games. Taught her to duck swift, to dodge wide, to feint, to leap, to run at large. He drilled in reflexes that would come naturally to her. It was only fun and play to her, but it was his only way to guard his heart when he couldn't be there to protect her all the time.

But it was only physical protection. He hadn't realized how futile it all was until he'd heard her father was dying. He could never protect her from such a loss. There was no knowledge or training that could have prepared her for that. And it would be soon, he knew. So instead of being away, running his routines and drills and keeping watch along the border, he made sure to be in the area and available. He made sure he could be there when she needed him. If she needed him.

Then something in the air shifted, a subtle change almost entirely unnoticed. He turned his head towards it and stood still, waiting. His vigil was rewarded after a time, and his brown eyes tracked her as she ghosted through the trees like some empty, hollow shell. The sharp pain in his chest didn't reach his face, expressionless and impassive as was his usual, as he lined himself to interrupt her path. He cut her off and stepped into her, pressed his solid chest to hers and buried his nose in her hair.

Rora.. he said softly, so surprisingly soft for such a cold, hard man. He wasn't meant to be this close to anyone, it wasn't his place in life, but she needed it. She'd stolen an innocent cuddle on occasion as a little child, and it had taken him a while to get used to it. So maybe this wasn't as difficult for him as it should've been.

I'm sorry, he said quietly. He didn't have to ask, already knew. This wasn't the bright girl he'd spent so much time with, the starry glint in her eyes dimmed and the ready smile not quite so ready anymore. But what more could he do for her? Nothing could make this any easier, nothing could change it. He could only hold her and hope it brought at least a little comfort.