For months, Nahariel had chafed under the idea that there was nothing to be done about the Shard in her Clansister's chest. Then the chafing had ignited into the blind grief and anger had raged through her at Sina's near-death by Rift energies.
As Sina had recovered, however, and the tumult of emotions faded, Nari had retreated into something else. She had wanted it to be relief, but it wasn't. Even as Sina reached out a strengthening hand toward the sun of the garden, the older elf had taken to the shadows of the Undercroft to fill her mind and hands with the monotonous work of keeping an army equipped. Anything to replace the quiet, empty certitude that the young and fragile First was, indeed, a spirit walking.
That it was true--there was nothing to be done. Sina tread in time borrowed from the Creators, and Nari could hardly look at her fair skin without thinking she could see a bit of the Beyond trailing alongside it.
She stopped looking.
For the first time in her life, she purposefully ruined wood. Carved it wrong, against the grains, making what could have been strong brittle. Snapped the little misborn halla along the fault lines that she had created and tried to weep but couldn't. Thought about whether or not it would be better for the clan if she simply returned to their shared tent in the dark hours of the night and ended both of their suffering.
Adelaide trusted her. It wouldn't be too difficult to get herbs for Sina's pain and overbrew it. Siuona Dahlasanor could sleep peacefully and never feel the blade. What was borrowed would be returned. And then the parapet for her, she thought. Into the cold darkness, far from home.
--
Such was Nahariel's mind when Sina approached her hesitantly with her ideas for testing, for the removal of the shard.
She did weep, then. And tried not to let her clansister see that it was out of relief, not worry. Relief tinged with the terrible guilt that she'd hoped for something like this. One way or another, they'd be free of it.
"Anything you need, da'halla," she'd murmured hoarsely, pulling the younger woman into a tight hug--the first she'd felt honest giving in weeks.
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As Sina had recovered, however, and the tumult of emotions faded, Nari had retreated into something else. She had wanted it to be relief, but it wasn't. Even as Sina reached out a strengthening hand toward the sun of the garden, the older elf had taken to the shadows of the Undercroft to fill her mind and hands with the monotonous work of keeping an army equipped. Anything to replace the quiet, empty certitude that the young and fragile First was, indeed, a spirit walking.
That it was true--there was nothing to be done. Sina tread in time borrowed from the Creators, and Nari could hardly look at her fair skin without thinking she could see a bit of the Beyond trailing alongside it.
She stopped looking.
For the first time in her life, she purposefully ruined wood. Carved it wrong, against the grains, making what could have been strong brittle. Snapped the little misborn halla along the fault lines that she had created and tried to weep but couldn't. Thought about whether or not it would be better for the clan if she simply returned to their shared tent in the dark hours of the night and ended both of their suffering.
Adelaide trusted her. It wouldn't be too difficult to get herbs for Sina's pain and overbrew it. Siuona Dahlasanor could sleep peacefully and never feel the blade. What was borrowed would be returned. And then the parapet for her, she thought. Into the cold darkness, far from home.
--
Such was Nahariel's mind when Sina approached her hesitantly with her ideas for testing, for the removal of the shard.
She did weep, then. And tried not to let her clansister see that it was out of relief, not worry. Relief tinged with the terrible guilt that she'd hoped for something like this. One way or another, they'd be free of it.
"Anything you need, da'halla," she'd murmured hoarsely, pulling the younger woman into a tight hug--the first she'd felt honest giving in weeks.