Free for all theoretical Thursday!
After reading Loreliae's story based on the simple line "Don't leave me" I got to thinking. What really would happen if Valrae died? So I ran with it.
Enjoy!
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It was once said there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens; a time to be born and a time to die. Death. It came for all, and it knew no bounds. No one was immune, not even her. Perhaps it was an absolution. One she so desperately craved. True, it was absolute that all things had beginnings and endings. All things would start, evolve and bid to faith. No man, or sub human would dare walk the plains they so soiled without some understanding of this. Even the best could fall. They will. They often did. Someone was always better, always superior in some sort of way. Even something so signifcant as luck could rob someone so skilled of a great victory. Where the lowly soldier, lacking in skill could defeat the great and powerful. Luck was the greatest of gifts, only second to intelligence and information. They could key any form of ambition with a chain reaction, and nothing but a simple whim of a motion. Perhaps it was luck that she still breathed and that cold heart of her's continued to struggle to beat inside of that battered chest of her's or simply the curious nature of fate? Perhaps it was desire, or greed to carry on that pushed her to force air into her lungs? Maybe it was the boys? Shydir and Loreliae? Sylvren? Solarian? Hell, even Kaladrian? It could have been anyone or anything that made Valrae struggle to survive. It may have even been something as insignificant as a simple stubborness. The desire to be apart of something great, something that she, herself, could get behind. Loreliae's warm hand's had pulled off another miracle or so she had figured to grant her this last day. The priestess was always the one to save her ass in these horrific situations. In truth, Valrae had lost track of how many times her sister had saved her life. It was becoming a monthly occurance or so she reckoned. Though it was a trade off. The blonde wasn't terribly reckless without some sort of motive. Loreliae needed a protector, as did Shydir and she was just the ticket. "Shydir, run!" That leather clad vixen shouted. The sounds and sights of the encounter made Valrae's head begin to throb. Her temperature had spiked again and her body became extremely fatigued. Pale and clammy, the colour seemed to fade from that bloodied woman's features. The cool breath of the reaper caressed the back of her neck as her fingertips flinched as if she were to reach for a dagger which was usually at home at her side. "Run, damn you! Hide! Don't open your eyes!"
"Auntie Valrae! No!" "Just do as I say-ARGH!" That sword had skewed her right through her chest. Akin to cutting warm butter it sunk into her form so easily, and that warm life blood of her's began to pump and gush from her like a hot river. Soaking and coating the grass below in crimson, those jade pools of her's instantly widened. Shock and adrenaline throbbed through her now, a true mother bear had been awakened. No one was taking Shydir, not over her dead body. How amusing it was now as she laid there in that bed drifting in and out of conciousness. Valrae might as well have been dead. The pain she suffered as well as those injuries were great. Her body left mutilated and cold but at least Shydir was safe from those ruffians. "Don't leave me.." She uttered as soon as those fingertips of Loreliae's found her wrist. Her voice was raspy and strained but she managed. Finally Valrae had said those words she longed too. They were so hard, but now was not the time to be stubborn. "Never." Her sister said between sobs. Hearing that response, the once powerful Magistrix knew, it was time to let go. Her salvation had come. Thump...Thump...Thump.. That throbbing of her heart seemed to slow, as did her breathing as that bright morning sunlight splashed over her. Who knew how many hours had passed, everything was a blurr and the pain never subsided. She held on, if only for Loreliae. The warmth of the orange glow felt so very inviting like slipping into a warm bath. It was a means beyond all that spoke even whispers of the earth. It was the beat of the heart. The motion and pull of destiny. Life, and death. If one could close their eyes, it would become so clear, translucent, and flawless. Bound beyond emotion, beyond time, it was the mainstream of all things. It held no tact or favor, no memory, no emotions. It simply existed in a way that none even considered. This was the end, Valrae could feel it in her bones. "Tell..the boys I love them. T-Tell everyone I love them.." She said quietly. Whether or not Loreliae was awake to hear them, it didn't matter. Nustled up beside her best friend, those bandages of her's oozed and soaked those sheets completely as that playful glimmer within her peridot pools dimmed more and more with each passing moment. "I love you Loreliae.." She managed to say through a difficult breath. Long, and deep the rogue's eyes began to shut. The rising and falling of her chest slowed as the world as she knew it began to fade. "I'll never leave you.." The seconds ticked by slowly, as the sound of the early morning birds seemed to chirp outside that window. Fitting how free those animals seemed, fluttering outside of that pane. Unchained, and able to do as they pleased. Finally, Valrae would too would have that release she so craved. The ability to live on, wherever she went without fear of being judged. Within those last moments, she felt nothing. Death had granted her that one peace. She had died painlessly, tranquilly, like a woman whose life was irreproachable, and she now lay on her back in bed, with closed eyes, calm features, her long golden hair carefully arranged. Her pale physiognomy was so composed now that she had passed away, so resigned, that one felt sure a sweet soul had dwelt in that body, that this serene creature had spent an untroubled existence when anyone who knew her understood this was far from the truth. People she knew would be shaken with a hurricane of grief, painted with a rattling in their throats. As much as she claimed to not know what love was, Valrae knew deep down in that twisted, confused soul of her's. There was only one place it was, one place it could be where she felt most at home and she had died there, right in Loreliae's arms.
