Obsession is the height of passion, but what does one do when they find themselves enthralled with their enemy. Talamayas Sol loses his mother when he stumbles upon a mage in the deserts of his territory, and he is plunged into a despair he's never...
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They were in the sands this time, and Wren took a seat near a rock to watch Yania Sol read to the children. It was always so peaceful to start, and he allowed himself to enjoy the moment this time. Each night, he waited in so much fear for the moment he'd kill her again that he'd never really allowed himself to indulge in the tranquility of it all.
The woman's long curly hair was so dark against the sands, but it shone in the sun with a brilliance that lit her up despite her tanned pallor. She was beautiful, as was Talamayas, though in different ways. Talamayas was strength, vengeance, and yet he was just as gentle, forgiving and yearning. Perhaps Tala got it from her. The color of her crimson eyes was so lively, like a summer rose thriving in the heat.
It was time for his dream specter to show up, and Wren took a breath as he waited for those dark grey eyes, the malice, and the gasping of the woman's life as she faded away. Yania's eyes lifted, as they always did, but she looked at him–the observing him. Wren looked to either side of himself and she chuckled.
"Are you going to join us, Wren?" The woman asked, and his breath choked off as she held out a hand, a child gripping the bottom of the book as they sat in her lap.
"I..." Wren was at a loss for words. The woman had never spoken but to beg and cry before.
"Come," she ushered, just as Tala did all of the time, and Wren couldn't stop himself.
Crossing the edge of the sands, he sat himself next to her, and a child jumped up on his shoulders. It was something that should have made him smile, but instead he wanted to cry. This place, it wasn't for him. It was for him to destroy, and here she was welcoming him to sit by helpless children.
Was this where it went dark?
"You are expecting a different end?" Yania asked innocently, her smile dipping in concern. It dimpled her cheeks just so much to do so, really shaping her face clearer than Wren had ever seen it.
"Yes," Wren said into the sand. "I'm waiting for my shadow to come kill you, and then the children, and then to sit alone like the monster I am," Wren mumbled.
What did it matter what he said in his dreams?
"That is not what you want?" Yania asked.
"Of course not." Wren chuckled in hysteria and tears flooded his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you, to hurt my people. I was afraid and I made a mistake..." Wren clenched his fists. "Talamayas even had the gall to say you'd have liked me. I was elated that he forgave me for my mistake, but I couldn't accept it as much as I said I wanted to."
"This dream of yours... have you had it since the day I passed?" Yania asked, and Wren turned to her with confusion. The specter in his dream didn't know how many nights she'd visited him. "That seems painful," she said once she'd gleaned her answer.
