“ have you ever considered running away ?” { sana }
*drunken confessions! / accepting.
Mahariel does not look at the Inquisitor, not even in his peripheral vision. Instead his dark eyes with their blown pupils focus on the empty bottom of his tankard and the noise of the tavern. ‘YES’ is what he could say and be done with it —- but there is more, so much more. There is a story he has, one to answer her question, but he locks it between blunt teeth.
He already ran once. Nine years and four months ago, he did run away. Nearly a decade prior, a newly appointed Warden-Commander of Vigil’s Keep, disappeared into a mirror much like the one that corrupted him. He left the world behind at its most fragile point and did not care to look back, FOR SHAME, HERO.
The tight line of his jaw feathers as he toys with the griffon around his neck and remembers who wears its twin. He recalls then, golden eyes brighter than sunshine, a laugh purer than the first snowfall of winter, the reasons he left and the reasons he cannot leave again.
“we all do, don’t we?” The Warden reaches across the small space between them to pat at the elbow she rests on the tabletop, as if to reassure his presence. ( Whether it be for his sake or hers is debatable. ) “but in the end we do what we must.”
