Prologue
"For you to better understand the circumstances, you should go back to where it all begun…"
"Adelint…"
The light was nigh blinding her and the drilling pain in her head made her want to vomit.
"Adelint!" the soft, familiar voice urged again. The blazing, burning, white light flooded through her barely open eyelids, forcing her breath to be caught at her throat.
Then silence and darkness came once more; she was falling. Falling and falling, in an endless tunnel that she was unsure if she could climb back up from – or if she even wanted at that point.
SPLASH!
Panic surged through her conscious and unconscious self, every fiber of her being suddenly tense and she awoke with a start, gasping for air as if she was drowning. Once air filled those tobacco-wrecked lungs and the mid-day light gave her vision, the blonde found herself in a familiar setting – the tavern – gawking at her close friend, soaked to the bone.
"You fell asleep on the tavern table." A tan arm extending to snatch the bottle Adelint was cradling in her arm, barely any of the murky liquid left inside. "AGAIN." The annoyed voice stated slightly louder, earning a groan from the drunken one. Adelint squinted her eyes, trying her hardest to recall anything from last night, alas, it was in vain.
It certainly took many attempts, a lot of effort and sheer power of will to lift and transport the drunken husk of a woman Adelint had become. A pleasant looking face with hay blonde hair had turned into a lurching, pale zombie with a matted excuse of a blonde mane and hollow eyes, 'adorned' by black circles. The kohl that she often used as a cosmetic and to hide the testaments of her insomnia was smudged all over her face. Bottle in one hand, the soaked, white shirt clinging onto her wiry frame, Adelint stumbled across the cobble of the city with Fay's help.
At least the citizens did not find the spectacle unusual, save for the few deviant looks she got due to the white fabric clinging to her chest. She wasn't the first and certainly not the last person who had too much to drink, but at this point she would be a familiar sight, dragging herself through the streets.
An impish grin broke Adelint's dull expression and she tore away from the tan, black-haired leatherworker, emptying her stomach on the side of the road. Fay merely watched her, a pang of pity crossing her features as the blonde stumbled back on her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and then her sleeve.
"Don't you look at me like this, Wagner." Adelint croaked, her voice hoarse from last night's substance abuse.
"If you don't want to be pitied, then don't be bloody pitiful, Edelhart." Fay spoke with that ice in her voice; ice that shattered castles and young men's hearts.
With narrowed eyes and a renewed flame in her eyes, Adelint made to swing for her friend's face, alas she fell down and then did not get up, passing out. That would be a long day, Fay thought to herself, hauling Adelint over her shoulder and earning a few amused snickers, along with a couple of worried gazes.
Bloody Adelint, when would she learn?
(I own nothing recognizable, it is all property of Blizzard entertainment.)