Runes in the Mists
Evander sat in the cushioned armchair before his fireplace, his right leg folded over his left and a book settled in his lap. The pages, however, had been forgotten for the time being. Pale blue eyes were focused on the crackling flames, his lips settled in a faint frown.
Verena had finally managed to fall asleep in the guest room - tucked away in her own little pocket of the world. The fire danced, casting flickering shadows across the room as Evander's mind wandered into the recesses of memory. His thoughts were consumed by the trials Verena had faced alone, the echoes of her struggles that she'd divulged.
His hand lifted, setting the book aside and picking up a small journal, flipping through the pages for a moment, before settling on one - a sketched illustration of the monk. Mostly in black and white, her hair had streaks of pink highlighted throughout, and those misty blue eyes stared up at him from the pages. The battles fought behind Verena's steely gaze. Her unwavering strength in the face of struggles that had toppled lesser individuals. A soft sigh escaped the mans nose, a pen appearing in his hand as he flipped a few pages over, beginning to write. Verena, In the time I've known you, I've seen you laugh until tears pricked at your eyes. I've seen you give people, who may have otherwise not had the opportunity, the chance to better themselves. I've watched you sacrifice, in order to give the world a chance to be better. I've seen you move as a doctor, as a combatant. But I've also been fortunate enough to see you in a way that many do not; I've gotten to see you as a friend. Someone who will stand in the flames with me. I've watched as we've grown closer over time, and now I've reached the point where I can safely say my life is better with you in it. Thank you, Verena, for continuing to be you. Despite the trials your life has put you through, I would not change you if I was promised the universe itself. With love, Evander.
A final flourish of the pen finished the note, before he carefully pulled the page from the binding of the journal, then flipped a few pages back to the sketch, and pulled that page out as well. The two pages, the journal and the now-empty glass were set back aside as the man leant back in his chair again, tilting his head back and casting his gaze towards the ceiling. In the silence, Evander's thoughts strayed once again to the first time he'd met Verena. Her contagious laugh, the playful gleam in her eyes as they joked and talked for hours. The feeling of electricity coursing through his skin each time their hands brushed together. The heartbreak when she'd broken the news of her sister, the helplessness as she'd fallen apart night after night. The relief when she finally started to eat again. How close he'd come to saying something he wouldn't be able to take back. "She deserves better, anyway." Evander muttered, slowly standing up from the chair, gathering his books, the pages and the empty glass. "Someone that can stand in the flames with her too."
