There was unsettlement in the air. A thick, menacing fog, overtaking the landscape like a blight. It was almost as if Faerûn was unsatisfied with the day, disgusted and bitter with a dire need to let it infect the people that inhabited it. And as if the fog was not enough, the rain poured down in buckets, drowning what little peace their was in the atmosphere.
As she moved closer to her destination dark, looming stones came into focus. A graveyard far, far from the walls of Neverwinter, from civilzation. The place was somewhat of a secret, this particular graveyard was a haven for those who wished for true peace after death. It was calm, quiet, the dead would have no disturbances from the living here. The girl approached, her eyes fixated on the water pouring down from the large tombstones, soaking the ground without care. It made the scene even more depressing then it already was.
The normally life-bringing water that fell unrelenting from the sky did nothing to help a long dead tree that stood alone near the top of the largest hill. Its leafless branches clawed at the sky, rattling hollowly at even the slightest breeze. The tree marked the end of a winding path that was hardly more than packed earth. She kneeled and became unmoving. There was no prayer she spoke, no guestures. She just kneeled, unmoving, and the the sound of the storm was her only company.
Her face was soaked, though more from the rain then from tears. No, the tears stopped long ago. She was drained of them... at first she couldn't stop. It was like the very life from her bones was gone, as if she cried it all out... like it was painfully squeezed out of her.
The confusion of it all, that lack of understanding that ate at her. She kneeled above this grave, completly unknowing with what she felt, and it scared her.
Pure white hair was plastered against her runed face, but she couldn't be bothered to push it away. It was as if she couldn't feel anymore, so why did it even matter? Did it?
No, probably not.
So she sat. Alone, save for the skeleton of a tree and a stone in front of her.
That stupid rock. This hunk of stone in front of her. It was the reason for all of this, for all of her sorrows. A liberation, yet a curse. The cause of this bottled up pain and guilt. Did she want to dig him out? Craddle him to her chest? Did she want to die next to him, just end it and be with him? Or did she... wish this? As if his death was the easy way out? The thought disgusted her to the very core of her being... no. she never wanted this, even if she found her feelings changing so much, she never wanted this.
"Casavir"
How could he be gone?
He was the strong one. The perfect leader, he held the group together better then she ever could. He was her insperation, the part of her that told her good things about her heratige. That being an Aasimar wasn't a bad thing at all, in fact, it was a blessing.
Why had it ended so horridly?
Ciara hugged her arms close to her, forcing her eyes shut. She didn't want to see the stupid tombstone anymore. She closed her eyes tightly, and the thoughts came. They rushed her like a dwarf with a warmace.
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"Where do we go?!"
The ceiling was crashing down upon them. It was hardly the heroic ending the group had hoped for.
"This way!" Ciara screamed. "There has to be a way out, just keep running!"
And so they ran. The ran as fast as their feet would carry them. Twist after turn in that labrynth of chaos. They hit a dead end, and Ciara ran over to the wall, pounding on it with her fists.
"Damn! Damn!"
She slowly slumped to the floor.
"Damn it..."
Something brushed her sholder, she looked up at the man. He was smiling at her, full of confidence.
"We will find a way out my lady. What have I told you about having faith?"
She blushed, smiling softly. She nodded. She took his hand as he helped her up.
"Now come. We've not checked the east wing."
He quickly turned around, running out of arms reach. Ciara smiled brightly, stretching and getting ready to follow. And then it happened, Ciara's eyes went wide as a boulder fell... Directly above Casavir.
And then there was a scream.
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"No!"
Her eyes flew open.
"Why?!"
She punched the tombstone, feeling nothing. Her body shook violently as she tried to block out the memorys. The tears she wanted to cry never came, and the rain water was a poor substitute. She punched the tombstone again, with little regard for her hands. The cuts and bruses she caused felt like air. The feelings... cause a unnatural numbness inside of her.
And the worst part? It was her fault. Her sorrow, her anger, it was all her fault. It was all her fault because she didn't have the stomach to lead. Always passing the burden onto others. She was a friend, probably a best friend to much of her party. Someone to talk to, to share feelings with, to care for and about. But she was never a leader. And if it was not for that man... well...
She remembered the night.
Their night.
The night before the attack of the keep, when it all came into focus. She loved him, and she slept with him, and life was suddenly so simple.
She loved him.
At least for the particular night she did.
Untill she found out that they were spied on during their lovemaking. And then guilt poured in, and once again she was confused with herself.
And after the battle was over and done. After everything was said and done, Ciara ran to the very person who spied on them. And for a long while they talked. And then Ciara abandoned him, behind his back even. And her heart ached, it was hard enough to live with herself then, but now? She wanted to curl up into a ball and die.
She was in love with two people.
And so Ciara had resumed her silent vigil of Casavir's tombstone when the sound of soft footsteps sounded behind her. The other half of the equation. The one who completed Ciara's little love triangle... she could always hear the footsteps. In fact, Ciara could very well be one of the few who ever could.
"My, we're looking down this fine morning," a chillingly familiar voice quipped, cold and hollow as the air around the pair. The familiar perkyness and cheer that often made Ciara's heart melt was completly gone.
A meer two weeks ago Ciara would have smirked, retorted. Gotten into one of their harmless, silly fights. Snuggle afterwards and make up, maybe even share a kiss. But today she just looked out into the storm. That cold, depressing fog.
After a long pause, Ciara finally spoke, her voice cracked and wispy. "What do you want Neeshka?"
A somewhat insulted snort was heard. "Nice greeting, Angel. You mad I didn't take Black Garius' offer?"
Ciara looked up at the Teifling. Her cold, unnaturaly peircing eyes, with an even colder look upon them due to this fine day slowly softened. Ciara whimpered to herself, then looked down upon the mud below her.
"I... forgive me."
Neeshka frowned, placing a hand upon Ciara's sholder.
"Right back at you, that was cold. Even for me."
Neeshka sighed, rubbing the Aasimar's sholder comfortingly.
"Its not... right of me to be jealous. Its plain to see that your thinking about him." Neeshka said, sighing softly to herself.
Ciara just shook her head in dismay. There was a strange note in the slightly younger woman's voice. Pity? Sympathy? Love? Confusion? Was Neeshka as lost as she was?
"You... were a loyal leader Ciara. Its... something I admire. I'm just selfish."
At that comment, Ciara turned on Neeshka. A fluid motion that should probably have been impossible for someone crouched in all-consuming grief for who knows how long. There was sadness, anger in Ciara's eyes.Neeshka looked startled, almost scared at the sudden change of character.
"You call me a loyal leader? Well tell me this Neeshka. Would someone truly loyal drag the people they cared most about into unbelievable danger over and over? Would a leader cower and cry as the worst the world has to offer circles them…" Ciara's voice caught in grief, her eyes burning for tears that she could no longer cry. But she continued anyway, "Would a loyal leader be the one responsible for the death of a person she loved...?"
The last had been barely more than a whisper, but Neeshka seemed to have heard it. The tiefling frowned, hugging herself gently. Ciara's face turned pale at that... Neeshka looked so sad Ciara could almost see though her.
"I'm a monster..."
Nesshka quickly shook her head at that.
"No, don't say that! Your not. You didn't know and I came at you so fast and..."
"You say I'm loyal," Ciara muttered, she didn't quite hear what Neeshka just said. She snapped out of her trance, looking over the woman she loved. Or, was it the person she thought she loved? Was the person she loved in the ground behind her, or in front of her?
Loyalty. The situation she was in this very moment was a testament to her loyalty. It sickened her.
"You couldn't be more wrong." She nearly spat the last words out.
In response Neeshka knelt and placed a hand under the Aasimar's chin, forcing her to look Neeshka in the eyes. She then wrapped her arms around Ciara lovingly, kissing her forhead tenderly
"Listen here, Ciara. You may not think it, but you never were disloyal. We all willingly followed you. And had things not gone so wrong, we all would still be following you now."
Ciara nuzzled into Neeshka's arms. When did the tiefling get so mature? It was a bit bizzare... but for once, somewhat welcome.
"You were a daughter to Elanee. A best friend to Khelgar. You were guidance for Bishop and... well..." Neeshka made a thoughtful face. "I dunno what you were to Grobnar to be honest... probably the wrong kind of moral support."
Ciara broke out laughing. Gods, did that feel good.
"You were company and a partner for Sand, a teacher for Qara... and... a lover to Casavir." She swallowed hard after saying that. "You healed his past, you know?"
Ciara shook her head. "What about you Neeshka?"
She breathed heavly at that, craddling the girl even moreso then before now. "... You... you were..." Ciara looked up into Neeshka's eyes, pleading her to tell the truth. "Well... you became everything to me."
Ciara blushed, looking away saddly. "I'm not loyal."
"Oh would you cut that out!" Neeshka let go of the Aasimar. "I... understand. I do. Its just... hard for me to get over. Your feelings for him and all of that. But I will. Sides... I can't leave you now. Not like this."
Ciara looked away as Neeshka released her face; despite the words of encouragement, she felt as guilt ridden as ever
"I do love you Neeshka. With all of my heart."
Neeshka's breath got caught in her chest. It was always a shock to hear that, even though she heard it before. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. "Is this a gift, or a curse?" the tiefling rasped. "What's done is done. We can't change that." Neeshka paused for so long Ciara wondered if her lover was done talking. But something about the look in the younger woman's eyes said otherwise.
"I guess our fates were sealed long ago." Neeshka stared out over the graveyard, eyes glazed over in deep thought. "Our little tragedy. An angel and a devil in love, and all that nonsense.. And then a man of pure heart comes, and things get caught up in between. Then suddenly its all destined to end in disaster." She chuckled to herself. "One of those corny love storys, you know?"
"I don't care about fates," Ciara hissed bitterly to no one in particular, breaking the horned girl's train of thought. "Never fucking did either. There's no reason we can't be in love. Regardless of what we are, regardless of what happened to Casavir. Besides, It's still my fault. If it wasn't for me, Casavir wouldn't be dead."
Neeshka turned her gaze to Ciara. There was no trace of even the slightest amount of snide humor, nore jealousy, not even concern or sadness at the sight of her in such a sad state, only pity.
"You... you don't know?" Neeshka's voice was so soft it could have easily been mistaken for the wind passing by. "You really don't know do you?... I..."
"What?" Ciara rasped, looking up in dazed confusion. "Know what?"
Neeshka didn't reply, but instead moved closer to Casavir's tombstone. Ciara scrambled to her feet to stand next to her.
"Neeshka, what aren't you telling me?"
The Tiefling slowly turned to the Aasimar, shaking her head. "Ciara... Casavir's not dead." A very, very cold shiver went up Neeshka's spine. "Far from the truth... He was the one who saved the others."
Ciara felt her heart twist. What kind of cruel game was Neeshka trying to play? Was this her way of getting back at Ciara for loving the man as well?
"He's six feet under the ground," Ciara hissed. "How can he be alive?"
Neeshka continued to stare levelly at her, not at all fazed by the younger woman's icy tone and blazing eyes. Ciara needed her to be strong, even if she didn't realize it yet. "Because, he's not the one buried here."
Before Ciara could say another word in protest, Neeshka turned to face the grave.
A sickening feeling came over Ciara as she realized that if she concentrated hard enough, she could see a faint outline of the headstone through Neeshka's figure. Just... just like she thought she did before. Ciara was scared now, but bizarre as the realization that she could see though her lovers stomach, nothing matched what came next. Neeshka gently nudged aside the thick growth of ivy vines, making the leaves rustle as if they'd been pushed by a breeze instead of her hand. Ciara felt it, the wind picked up.
There on the tombstone, delicately inscribed was the full name of the grave's occupant. Ice filled her as she read the name with growing horror and dread.
Ciara Emberstone Farlong
In loving memory of a brave hero, a true and loving friend, and the love of my life.
May her spirit rest in peace.
Casavir
Ciara looked upon the grave, the tears that threatened to pour down her face could not come, and suddenly it made sense why. She looked upon her hand, blocking the sight of the tombstone, only to find a few moments later she could see right threw it, as if her hand was not even there. Ciara slumped down to her knee's, shaking.
Memorys flooded over her; the story picking up where it had left off.
Ciara hadn't been screaming because of stone falling on him. She remembered colliding into him, knocking him aside... before her cry.
She gripped her head, more memorys. She cried out... but not because of pain. No, that was not the reason at all.
"No! This is all a lie!" Ciara breathlessly screamed. "This is a horrible, awful lie!!"
"You saved Casavir," Neeshka whispered hoarsely, becoming a bit more transparent, she kneeled down next to Ciara, hugging the Aasimar close. Ciara burried herself into Neeshka's chest, sobbing out a tearless cry.
Neeshka pet her hair gently. "but there was no one there to save you."
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"Casavir!!"
Ciara knocked Casavir aside, he grunted as he fell forward, sliding away from the incomming wreckage. But his armor was heavy, and Ciara fell forward as she pushed him. The plan was to toss them both out of harms way, but it was not to be so, and she lacked the strenght to save them both.
But her friends we alive. And Casavir would get everyone out. She was content to die.
"Ciara! Ciara!!"
Neeshka made a mad dash for Ciara. And suddenly Ciara's eyes went wide.
"Neeska! Don't!!"
And suddenly everything wen't dark.