Honore had never welcomed his nightmares before. And he would not have said, really, that he -welcomed- them even now. Yet, compared to the endless ringing silence and solitude of his cell he was not sure that they were so terribly much worse. It had not been quite so bad when Sabri was there. There had at least been another voice to answer him sometimes when he talked, and even when Sabri only listened Honore had known he was not alone.
He was alone now. Sometimes Honore wondered if it would drive him mad, all this emptiness and no thoughts but his own to fill it. His own thoughts were far from pleasant ones. He didn't know where Sabri had gone. Had they killed him? Was that what awaited him too when they finally tired of keeping him here with nothing but stone and his nightmares for company? He tried not to imagine it. But he had always been far too good at imagining.
Honore fought sleep out of habit, but there was something in the stones that sapped his strength. He felt weaker and wearier by the day. Had it been days? Weeks? There was no sun and no sense of time. Now, even when he ached to hear something that wasn't this ringing silence, his own voice had become difficult to rouse. Even speech was an effort he lacked the strength for. And so despite himself he slipped into sleep again.
His dream started full of the same eternal silence as waking, stone walls, cold bars. He did not want to hear the voice, yet when it came it was familiar and that familiarity felt frighteningly like relief.
"Aurelien..." It called. And he felt it in his bones, it tugged at every fiber of his being and drew him back to his dreaming feet. He had never heard anything like that voice except here in his nightmares. It was loud, it demanded, it pleaded. It hummed in his bones and muscles and sometimes he thought it wasn't even really saying words but he heard them. They sounded like a song. "Come to me..."
'That isn't your name to call me.' He wanted to say, but didn't. What if he went to it? Was whatever it was that had called him for so long any worse than what awaited him on waking? "Aurelien..." There was an opening at the back of the cell, black and yawning in the stone, winding downward into the heavy darkness of the earth. "My Aurelien."
Its call pulled at him, as though it had twined a cord around some innermost core of him and tugged. He tried not to go but his feet moved, crossing the cell in the three strides he knew it took.
He reached out to grip the edges of the opening, digging his fingers into the stone until its roughness hurt. "Aurelien. Why won't you come? I have been waiting..." It was a song in his bones, a rumbling thing. Honore thought he could even feel it in the stone under his feet. He didn't want what it wanted. He was afraid of it. But he was afraid of waking too.
"No..." He whispered, but there was no strength in it. His hands loosened, trailing over the stone as he was pulled a few more steps down into the dark. "I don't want this..." He pleaded.
"Aurelien... you are hurt. Come to me. I will help you."
Honore stopped in his tracks. It had never said that before, and for a moment the surprise of it reminded him to dig his heels into the stone. He peered into the darkness ahead of him but there was nothing to see. Dimly distant he heard water dripping, and was that soft whisper a movement? "How could you help me?"
"My Aurelien." There was something pleased in that rumble. Something fierce and gloating in the way it hummed along his nerves. "Come to me." It roared and sang "Now you are free to. I can give you such help. Such power that you can stop this, that you can destroy the ones who would hurt you. You will be able to protect the ones you worry for. Come to me. We will never let this happen again..."
Honore stepped forward, not pulled this time for the tugging had ceased. Two strides forward before he caught himself and stopped. Those steps had been his own.
That thought jerked him awake, a sharp gasp filling his lungs with air that smelled of herbs and medicines. There was a light above him, a blanket tucked up over his chest, a curtain at the foot of the bed. And beside the bed there were people. Rinalys. Viper. And somewhere beyond the curtain came the familiar deep tones of Silvaineaux's voice.
Honore's eyes closed, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. It hurt and the taste of blood was sharp in his mouth, but when his eyes opened they were all still there. He was home. He was safe. He didn't have to answer the voice. But he thought of it, even here in the brightness of the infirmary, surrounded by friendly faces. 'Come to me. We will never let this happen again.'
@rinrin-rinalys @thedarknesssings for mentions of Rinalys and Viper. @daylightrays for Sabri.
“Well I do not care for Shrike, after that display. I have to wonder if Rinalys herself is that given to brashness or if that was all the Ink’s work. I.. do hope Inwa’s plan worked and she’s alright. I suppose I will watch from the sidelines and see what happens.”
"—Gather near, everyone! Our mission is short notice but a dire one."
All those who dare to enslave will find themselves claimed by the depths. Pearlites were called to their maiden vessel to traverse the high seas in hunt of the Splash Mouse, a slaver’s vessel. . .
Fluorite: Are they able to concentrate easily no matter where they are, or do they need a quiet space with little distracts?
In Character ⋯ ☠
“If I required peace, Rinalys, I would not get anything done.”
Out of Character ⋯ ☠
Lmfao, yeah. It’s a short answer in character. But, it’s an honest one. Sunsgerel’s life is one of chaos and she wouldn’t really achieve anything if she needed quiet in order to focus. She’s very good at tuning out what she needs to in order to work on whatever needs her attention. This is a character who has been on a war field and needed to be able to make decisions in seconds. So, yeah: shje’s able to concentrate no matter where she is.
He looked up from the tea to rest chartreuse eyes on the small woman. Lips turned into a wry smile before he exhaled and closed his eyes.
“An understatement if I have ever heard one,” he murmured quietly. Though he had always tried to maintain the image of strength and stability he found small moments where a crack in his armor would show through to what lay beneath. A man who had seen hell and back, who had been made to question his beliefs, his faith, his loyalties and himself. To be fair he had not been expecting to run into her here, nor anyone. The small tavern and restaurant was well away from Limsa proper and yet here she stood.
Hermenost gave a small sigh and moved slightly to gesture to the seat beside him at the small table, “I shall not trouble you with the weight of my transgressions. Instead please, sit and share a cup of tea with me. It is a relaxing and soothing hobby I came to enjoy quite some time ago.”
A motion was made to the barkeep for another cup and a new pot of tea which were soon enough placed upon the table. Money exchanged and again the two were left to themselves. With a skill borne from many times doing it Hermenost prepared another cup of tea and gently set it before her.
