HIRAETH

Prologue: Vasily

You don't need to die to feel like your body is deteriorating. Have your whole life flash between your eyes, and feel this burning sensation in your chest. This urge to scream but having no voice. Frozen in a place with no will to move but to witness.

Featherless touches and warmth to his eyes.

Watching.

Listening.

The rain covers the sounds of any ounce of pleasure echoing in these walls. Nothing to hold back. Nothing to hide, like a secret being released from its prison. What was I to do but accept this twisted fate, this suffocating revelation? It felt like my heart was ripped apart, and I was left with nothing but a broken shard filled with memories of our past, rereading the story we've shared together.

Rolling to her side, Vasily's nightgown sticks to her skin. Cold sweat covers her body, and heavy pants fill the empty space of her room. Her hands roam throughout the bed, trying to reach for someone.

Where are you?

Please, hold me.

However, she cannot find his hands.

She shoots up in a panic, and her eyes scan the room. She holds her wedding ring in her left hand, twisting it nervously. She turns to her right and stares at a ghost of a body that does not exist. She braces the hem of her garments.

It's not real. He doesn't exist. He's gone.

Vasily leans to the tip of her bed's headboard shaking her head, running her fingers through her scalp, scrunching her hair in frustration.

Fuck, I need a drink.

Vasily leans to her nightstand, finding her metal grey flask. She attempts to drink her favorite Bucktooth ale, however,

"Fucking hell," she mutters, shaking the empty bottle, trying to grasp any drop of its poison. She stares into her flask, seeing herself, noticing her darkened, drained complexion, seeing the loss of life within her eyes.

I really can't run from you, no matter where I go. No matter which city I escape to.

She places her flask beside her and removes the blanket on her lap, standing up. She grabs her coat and shoes, preparing to head out for a breath of fresh air.

As she feels the push of cold, harsh wind towards her, she grips her coat and pulls it close to her chest. She had never felt this kind of weather before. Her old towns never suffered such winds, always providing warmth from dusk till dawn. She looks up to the lanterns lighting up the city. The candlelight flickering, but never fades, blessed by our goddess Ignis.

While searching for a tavern, minutes pass, and not a sound travels throughout the streets of Zulta. The district is filled with locked doors and notices of closed shops. Suddenly, she hears a distant laugh. She looks from above and notices a warm amber light from the window located in the top right of a cobblestone house. She sees two shadows from the curtain. Close together, arms and hands interlocked, smiling, dancing with such bliss.

Her hands try to hold his own. He grabs her waist and positions her hands on his shoulders, bringing her close. She blushes. He smirks, "what darling can't handle a little dance." Her face heats up from the proximity turning her face away from him in embarrassment. She can feel his breath on her cheek. Her heart pounds

"Vasily?"

Looking down on her toes, she replies, "I- I have never danced like this before" his fingers caress her cheeks and trickle down to her chin, lifting her head to meet his eyes. "Just look at me, and I'll take care of you, darling."