♕ : Holding hands with Canach and Nyla
They’d felled Mordremoth. The ending was supposed to be– celebratory, it was– well, Canach wouldn’t say happy but it should have been something more than it was.
The beast lay dead. But so did Firstborn Trahearne- and worse yet, Nylarun’s twin, his other half was missing. They’d found Aster at the camp where Nynalihn had been, the sylvan hound wounded but happy to see his master’s brother. Nylarun panicked- he couldn’t feel Nynalihn anymore, he clutched the critter to his chest and the rest of their comrades had stood around with their backs turned, giving him a moment.
Canach knew what it felt like to just know another sylvari had died- they had felt it, always had. After the Commander had stood and told them to keep moving, carrying Aster, they did so, heading back to the main camp. It was only after night fell that Canach sought out the younger sylvari, who was sitting quietly beside the firepit, petting Aster’s leaves. The beast had been patched up in the meantime, waiting to be seen by a mender. He slept beside Nylarun.
“Commander,” Canach spoke as he approached, having no desire to startle the already undoubtedly exhausted sylvari. Nyla lifted his head at his title, sunrise eyes focusing on the secondborn who sat beside him then. “….are you holding up alright?” Canach had a feeling he knew the answer. The woods around them seemed to lean into the light of their fire, protectively keeping their camp from the world.
Nylarun turned his attention back to the flames, fingers still brushing through the hound’s leaves. He was quiet for a long while before offering a shake his head in response. “I have to.” But he wasn’t. He was trying his damnedest but he felt like the world was suddenly crumbling away from him. He wasn’t sure how he would face Cathasach now either- Nynalihn gone (dead, he couldn’t feel her anymore), Trahearne dead… His gaze didn’t leave the dancing of the fire, tears escaping.
Canach felt himself hit with sympathy- not that it was uncommon for him, but he felt winded. It was a terrible situation, and he knew from terrible situations– he’d been in plenty in his life. Quietly, he took Nylarun’s free hand in one of his own, holding it tight. Neither said a word of it, nor was anything said when Nyla’s head ended up on the older sylvari’s shoulder.
Come sun up, none would be the wiser as to their evening exchange. There was a sort of understanding between the two then, and they spoke nothing of that night.