#sad warden

[welcome-to-superjail]

[hurl-a-can]

° Lennan Tabris.

[bold-house-trevelyan]

              “Are you okay?” Alhanon was quiet for a moment, thinking about the question before shaking her head and turning back towards the lake. Eyes glazed over the ever-moving surface, she was tired, her body ached, but her mind was wide awake. Trying to sleep was futile, no matter what she tried, Alhanon could not rest. Her mind churned, every thought twisted and mutated into something else. Eventually, she’d found herself down a rabbit hole of self-depreciating thoughts. The usually confident woman had spent the last two hours, staring into the glimmering lake, question everything that she’d done, every path she’d taken.

              “I’m not,” Alhanon leaned forwards, her chin resting easily on her hands. “I’m tired.” Alistair merely hummed in response, he sat down next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. Alhanon leaned against him, relishing in his warmth. The two sat in companionable silence for a while before she spoke again. “Do you ever find yourself questing the things you’ve done?” Against her own desire, she pulled away from Alistair to stare up at him. Big, green eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Alistair could see the tears brimming in her eyes, he could feel his stomach twist at the sight. There was so much he wanted to say, but didn’t, instead, he shook his head.

               “Always, but we don’t get that luxury,” Alhanon laughed, but it wasn’t the usual sound of twinkling bells, instead it sounded forced, pained almost.

               “You really don’t have to tell me that.” Alhanon was quiet for a second, but she continued, “I don’t mean to be grim and fatalistic, but we’re going to lose people, they are going to follow us into battle, and they’re going to die. And that’s going to be my fault.”

“No, it’s not. You can’t blame yourself for everything bad that happens,” Alistair was quick to rebuttal. He hated hearing Alhanon talk poorly about herself; indeed, he hated hearing any of his friends talk bad about themselves. Negative thoughts, feelings, they didn’t have time to sink into any of those. Alhanon scoffed at his response. She stood, pushing herself away from the ground. The blanket she’d carried with her, dropped to the dirt.

“You really don’t know me then, huh?” Stooping down, she scooped the blanket up and began walking towards camp. “Thanks, Alistair, but I know how this ends.”

               “Somebody dies – someday always dies.”