Nightmare: Alone
Posted: Fri May 29, 2015 12:30 am
(Since everyone's posting their nightmares from the Eclipse thing, I figured I should add mine.)
"Why weren't you there?"
The question was a subtle yet glaring accusation as she stood in what had been hers and her father's home. Trinkets that had once been highly respected had been thrown about carelessly, stomped underhoof and destroyed. The cooking fire in the center had gone neglected, dead and revealing the bits and wisps of scrolls that had been dumped in them and burned. The little totem pole she'd made as a tiny youngblood for her father peeked from the ashes as well, blackened and nearly unrecognizable.
Most damning though, was the blood. It was cruelly sprayed along the wall of the tent where her father's bedroll laid, the blankets soaked with it and the scent of death. The whole place reeked of it. Her own bedroll laid untouched nearby, testament that she hadn't stayed home the night before. She'd initially run to his body, her hands rapidly staining with his cold blood as she shook him, screaming for him to wake up. They'd pulled her off of him, taken his body to prepare for burial, and left her to face the now empty tent
"I... we had a fight. He was upset with me... I left for the night, to go drink in the bluffs with the bulls..."
"Was it worth it? You knew he was old and could no longer fight." The words cut into her deeper than even the sharpest blade, and she closed her eyes to block out the vision. The smells, and their words, however, stayed with her.
"He could fight still, despite his age." Even she didn't believe her protest. The weather had changed recently, his joints always ached so.
"You may as well have slit his throat yourself. If your mother was here she'd be ashamed of you. You're a disgrace, Philomena."
And then she was alone, their words echoing over and over in the eerie silence as she kept her eyes squeezed shut. How could this be her fault?
It was her fault, a tiny voice in her mind replied. It was her fault for not being home. She didn't listen, and now he was gone to where no amount of apologies could bring him back. She looked down at her hands, wet and glistening with blood. No amount of washing or rubbing would make it go away.
She was alone, and had no one but herself to blame.
__________________________________________________ _________________________
The cold, sucking mud pulled at her hooves as she trudged up what seemed to be an endless hill set against a dark, rainy sky. She was near doubled over, carrying the fallen body of her Tauren mentor on her back, his blood running in a warm, wet river down beneath her armor, against her skin. She could see her breath in front of her face in the cold air, each inhalation like knives slicing at her lungs.
She couldn't lift her hoof another step, and collapsed into the mud, the chill immediately sinking through her armor. She didn't have the strength, and then the body was dragged from her back. She jerked upright in surprise, seeing the body of her beloved teacher being dragged from her.
"You shouldn't have left him."
Again that voice, just as damning as before. She looked around for it, anger bristling her fur.
"I had to! I couldn't carry him the entire way! I went for help, I couldn't... I was trying to save us both!"
"You were too weak. You were always too weak. He took you in, taught you what he knew, and you abandoned him."
"I didn't abandon him!!" She screamed the denial, but again the tiny voice in her mind, this time a little louder.
"But you did. You tucked him under a bush and left him. You didn't bother looking for his body again, either."
She dropped to her knees, feeling the warm blood flowing against her back as if he was still there. She did leave him, didn't she? She was foolish to think he'd be safe from the Scourge's minions like that. She may as well have handed him over to them.
She looked down at her still bloody hands, her white fur marred with it and the muck of the landscape.
She should have stayed alone. Maybe, just maybe... he'd still be alive. Or at least he might have survived til morning had she listened to the others and not run out there... Guilt gnawed at her, making her second guess her every move. She may as well have killed him herself.
__________________________________________________ ___________________________
She was accustomed now to the stench of blood that pervaded her nostrils with every breath. Her hands were soaked in it, her back warm and sticky from where it drenched her fur. Her sword lay nearby, the blade dark with recently spilled blood, and all around her she could see the corpses of her enemies that she'd slain. They rose around her in mountains, and yet, one laid before her, one she knew well. He hadn't been an enemy- the opposite in fact.
His torso had been slashed open by her own blade from shoulder to opposite hip. The surprise was still on his lifeless face. She hadn't seen him. She'd been so lost in her fervor to kill that she hadn't recognized him until it was too late. She kneeled by his head, brushing back his mane from his face and kissing his forehead, staining his dark fur even darker as she touched him. This... this was one she treasured, one she'd sworn to protect, and yet now he was dead at her hands. She cradled his head against her chest, pulling his limp body close as she rocked on her knees.
"I'm so sorry... so, so very sorry... I failed you... I only wanted to protect you." She wept openly, a side of her she'd never shown to anyone but him. His leathers were dark with gore, but the glint of something at his belt caught her eye. It was the dagger she'd given him as a gift, peeking from its sheath and calling for her, the delicate vine work she'd etched into the blade now seeming to be made to hold tiny pockets of blood. She took it, gripping the bound leather handle tightly, and pressed one final, tender kiss to his cold lips before standing, and turning to walk amid the pile of bodies that seemed to stack ever higher.
"You killed him." The persistent voice that followed her spoke right in her ear, yet she didn't shy away from it, or argue with it, not anymore.
"I know. It's my fault. He's gone."
"Why weren't you there?"
The question was a subtle yet glaring accusation as she stood in what had been hers and her father's home. Trinkets that had once been highly respected had been thrown about carelessly, stomped underhoof and destroyed. The cooking fire in the center had gone neglected, dead and revealing the bits and wisps of scrolls that had been dumped in them and burned. The little totem pole she'd made as a tiny youngblood for her father peeked from the ashes as well, blackened and nearly unrecognizable.
Most damning though, was the blood. It was cruelly sprayed along the wall of the tent where her father's bedroll laid, the blankets soaked with it and the scent of death. The whole place reeked of it. Her own bedroll laid untouched nearby, testament that she hadn't stayed home the night before. She'd initially run to his body, her hands rapidly staining with his cold blood as she shook him, screaming for him to wake up. They'd pulled her off of him, taken his body to prepare for burial, and left her to face the now empty tent
"I... we had a fight. He was upset with me... I left for the night, to go drink in the bluffs with the bulls..."
"Was it worth it? You knew he was old and could no longer fight." The words cut into her deeper than even the sharpest blade, and she closed her eyes to block out the vision. The smells, and their words, however, stayed with her.
"He could fight still, despite his age." Even she didn't believe her protest. The weather had changed recently, his joints always ached so.
"You may as well have slit his throat yourself. If your mother was here she'd be ashamed of you. You're a disgrace, Philomena."
And then she was alone, their words echoing over and over in the eerie silence as she kept her eyes squeezed shut. How could this be her fault?
It was her fault, a tiny voice in her mind replied. It was her fault for not being home. She didn't listen, and now he was gone to where no amount of apologies could bring him back. She looked down at her hands, wet and glistening with blood. No amount of washing or rubbing would make it go away.
She was alone, and had no one but herself to blame.
__________________________________________________ _________________________
The cold, sucking mud pulled at her hooves as she trudged up what seemed to be an endless hill set against a dark, rainy sky. She was near doubled over, carrying the fallen body of her Tauren mentor on her back, his blood running in a warm, wet river down beneath her armor, against her skin. She could see her breath in front of her face in the cold air, each inhalation like knives slicing at her lungs.
She couldn't lift her hoof another step, and collapsed into the mud, the chill immediately sinking through her armor. She didn't have the strength, and then the body was dragged from her back. She jerked upright in surprise, seeing the body of her beloved teacher being dragged from her.
"You shouldn't have left him."
Again that voice, just as damning as before. She looked around for it, anger bristling her fur.
"I had to! I couldn't carry him the entire way! I went for help, I couldn't... I was trying to save us both!"
"You were too weak. You were always too weak. He took you in, taught you what he knew, and you abandoned him."
"I didn't abandon him!!" She screamed the denial, but again the tiny voice in her mind, this time a little louder.
"But you did. You tucked him under a bush and left him. You didn't bother looking for his body again, either."
She dropped to her knees, feeling the warm blood flowing against her back as if he was still there. She did leave him, didn't she? She was foolish to think he'd be safe from the Scourge's minions like that. She may as well have handed him over to them.
She looked down at her still bloody hands, her white fur marred with it and the muck of the landscape.
She should have stayed alone. Maybe, just maybe... he'd still be alive. Or at least he might have survived til morning had she listened to the others and not run out there... Guilt gnawed at her, making her second guess her every move. She may as well have killed him herself.
__________________________________________________ ___________________________
She was accustomed now to the stench of blood that pervaded her nostrils with every breath. Her hands were soaked in it, her back warm and sticky from where it drenched her fur. Her sword lay nearby, the blade dark with recently spilled blood, and all around her she could see the corpses of her enemies that she'd slain. They rose around her in mountains, and yet, one laid before her, one she knew well. He hadn't been an enemy- the opposite in fact.
His torso had been slashed open by her own blade from shoulder to opposite hip. The surprise was still on his lifeless face. She hadn't seen him. She'd been so lost in her fervor to kill that she hadn't recognized him until it was too late. She kneeled by his head, brushing back his mane from his face and kissing his forehead, staining his dark fur even darker as she touched him. This... this was one she treasured, one she'd sworn to protect, and yet now he was dead at her hands. She cradled his head against her chest, pulling his limp body close as she rocked on her knees.
"I'm so sorry... so, so very sorry... I failed you... I only wanted to protect you." She wept openly, a side of her she'd never shown to anyone but him. His leathers were dark with gore, but the glint of something at his belt caught her eye. It was the dagger she'd given him as a gift, peeking from its sheath and calling for her, the delicate vine work she'd etched into the blade now seeming to be made to hold tiny pockets of blood. She took it, gripping the bound leather handle tightly, and pressed one final, tender kiss to his cold lips before standing, and turning to walk amid the pile of bodies that seemed to stack ever higher.
"You killed him." The persistent voice that followed her spoke right in her ear, yet she didn't shy away from it, or argue with it, not anymore.
"I know. It's my fault. He's gone."