Night Time Woes

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Revision as of 21:29, 11 May 2022 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "It is late at night, a time when everyone should be asnooze in their beds. Yet Auranar is not. Instead she is downstairs, curled in her chair weeping. The soft, sad sound of her tears is not loud, but it is present. She never really quite learned the trick of crying silently. There's a cup of tea sitting on the table in the middle of the room. Or more accurately. A cup of now-cooled herbs and water which had been intended to be tea. The fire in the hearth has burned dow...")
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It is late at night, a time when everyone should be asnooze in their beds. Yet Auranar is not.

Instead she is downstairs, curled in her chair weeping. The soft, sad sound of her tears is not loud, but it is present. She never really quite learned the trick of crying silently. There's a cup of tea sitting on the table in the middle of the room. Or more accurately. A cup of now-cooled herbs and water which had been intended to be tea. The fire in the hearth has burned down to mere embers, and the dying light does nothing to highlight the curled figure in her chair as she buries her face in her knees.

Asnooze is a state that Verna has had more than a few difficulties with as of late. Awakening with a fretful start for no external reason has been all too common. Doing so to find Auranar absent, however, is not. Worse, it grants all manner of nightmares and fears substance and the accompanying jolt of adrenaline.

Thus is there brisk padding of feet from the bedroom that momentarily pauses at sounds from this room. A moment of silence to listen. "Aura?!" her voice is hoarse from sleep, the lack, and concern. More steps to rapidly approach. "What is wrong?"

Auranar hears the sound of Verna and quickly dries her tears off her face. Gulps down her last sniffle and struggles to right herself before Verna actually arrives. She's... mostly succeeded, and looks up as Verna approaches her. She offers a wan smile and shakes her head. "It's nothing. I... just couldn't sleep. You should go back to bed." She knows that Verna's not been sleeping well lately, and it fills her with guilt to know that she might be stealing some of that peaceful respite from her girlfriend.

Verna looks to her for several long moments, perhaps attempting to evaluate whether Auranar truly is well. She then crouches next to the chair, placing a hand on Aura's. "Nor could I, and we should return to bed... once all is well. Until then, I am here." Verna does not repeat her prior question, though her gaze remains both concerned and curious.

The wild elf turns her hand over so that they can hold hands and Verna's gentleness, her kindness and care are Auranar's undoing. "I just kept seeing it all over again. Those corpses eating... But in my dreams they aren't eating horses, and they're not some undead people I don't know." Tears spill down her face from eyes that are over-filled with water.

Verna gives the joined hand a soft squeeze as she considers this. "What was in the dream was not real," she attempts to assure, "and what you witnessed to prompt that... is in the past." She offers simple logic for the latter in lieu of having contextual details. "What happened?"

Auranar doesn't know how to explain. She _knows_ it's just a dream, but it's so real when it's in her mind. As if she were there all over again. "We were at the mansion to find Cor'lana, and... We went into this room at the end of a hall. There were burned corpses... People Verna. They were people once." She closes her eyes but that's worse and so she looks at Verna in the hopes that something she loves will be easier to look at. "The mage that made them was laughing. Telling us to leave him with them, and they were eating the horses from the carriage. Feeding on them while he stood there."

"They were," Verna does not dispute this, but attempts to clarify and assuage, "but not when you saw them; those were only shells, corpses, and nothing like what they once were." She frowns at the thought and moreso at the mention of the mage. "He was the true monster, and he is not here to threaten you."

"They died in fire." Auranar says softly. "That's... that's all I really know about my parents. I don't know that they look like but now... I see them in my dreams and they look like that." She sniffles and clenches her hand around Verna's. "How could a person do that Verna? I know Eclavdran was a demon... They're just evil. But a person? He turned them into that and I don't understand."

Verna inhales and exhales in not quite a sigh. Now there are two... three? matters at hand which are close to Verna's heart. "Creatures such as fiends are vile as that is their nature. Mortals are so more by choice, in my opinion. In some respects, that makes them the worse." She shifts slightly to rest against the chair, as both support and to be nearer Auranar.

"I cannot explain why he, in particular, did so, but it is clear that he did not respect the departed any more than the living. It may be a simple matter of hubris: that he -could- do such a thing implied that it was his -right- to do such a thing. Abuse of power is far more common among us magically-learned or -inclined than most would prefer."

Auranar shakes her head, hair curling around her shoulders as she moves her head. "I... I lost control. I couldn't think through the smell. Eluna save me from that smell." She lowers her head to her knees again, murmuring a prayer for those poor departed souls. "I just wanted to shut him up." She's crying again.

Verna blinks at the shift from revulsion at a justifiably revolting individual to ... self-flagellation? After the shaking of head and tossing of hair, her hand moves up to move aside some of Aura's locks; to tuck some back to keep her lovely visage unobscured, and to brush hand against her cheek. "How do you believe you lost control? What occurred?" No judgment nor stated presumptions, only the inquiry for data.

Auranar mumbles something indecipherable into her knees. Several somethings. Whatever it is, it's not audible. Not helpful. She's explaining to her kneecaps and nothing else.

"Auranar..." Verna prods, though gently, moving her head in attempt to vie with knees for her focus, "I would know of anything and everything that troubles you, or delights you, and all between. I ..." she hesitates before admitting, "I may not hold ready answer or solution, but I will make every attempt. If you would share."

The wild elf looks up after a long moment and just dejectedly looks at Verna. "I was so useless Verna. I was sick and... I lost control. All this heat was building up inside me and I had to... I threw it at him and it did nothing. It barely made him blink." She leans forward wrapping her arms around her knees and huddling. "I didn't do anything useful at all. I couldn't help those people, and I couldn't stop him. Everyone else was so brave and I was just..." Useless.

"You are not useless," Verna responds firmly, leaning her head closer to Auranar's. "You chose to act, and took action. That is the most that anyone can do. The results are never as predictable as we would prefer. Yet, you returned. It may be selfish, but I consider that a victory."

Auranar shakes her head and squeezes Verna's hand. "I hate how far I am from being able to help those I care about. I'm always..." She mournfully looks down. "I'm always too weak to do anything really useful Verna."

Verna considers that a moment before commenting. "I do not believe that is a fault of your abilities, dearest," Verna opines, "but rather that you have such refined judgment of character that you care for the most learned, accomplished, and talented persons in all of Ea. Good taste is not a fault."

Auranar arches an eyebrow at that, then can't help the trickle of a smile that slides across her features. It's the smile that makes her give up her more depressing emotions. "Well. I DO happen to have the most learned, accomplished, and talented person in Alexandria as my girlfriend."

It is not until Auranar smiles that Verna's lips begin to curl. "As a point of fact, I referred to Pothy... but I am delighted, and flattered, that you think so. I can only assure that I am the most blessed person in Alexandria, if not Ea, as I have you as mine."

-End