Cross the stars with me

A Plague of Grief and a Blossoming Love

[A/N] Still recovering from my decision to kill Rob off, I actually will miss him because he was a great character to mix into the dynamic and eek I grow a little attached. Fuck sake I have to write Essylt finding out Rob died, that's going to be..... um. yeah. 

Now obviously if you've ready any fantasy book you'll know plot points like these take entire books, even more if it's pushed far enough so to clarify my story is not about getting into the real deep nitty gritty points of information and plot you know like game of thrones with the giant books that go on with amazing things for ages. What I am doing is tailored to a character and how they feel, what they experience and how that affects them. Obviously I'll give scenery, setting and provide action otherwise it would be DULL but mainly I focus on interactions, dialogue and thoughts to convey a meaning or a message, to really get you into the mindset of the character rather than the eyes of the character. 

 Now that the arc involving Belric is over we have some questions that need answering. Is he alive? Will he come back if so? And how and why did the Lothains come to aid in the last minute? Well as the great author I am my answer is... all in good time. For now let's celebrate, they survived!! and Amaranth is safe!!! (Except for Rob, SUE ME I'm obsessed) And nowww onwards into our next arc! New characters! New locations! Okay this is starting to sound like an advert for a holiday resort soooo ON TO THE CHAPTER. 

-Sam-

It wasn't enough, I tried everything in my power to console him, my attempts ineffective, like water off a duck's back. No blame did I place on him, his loss was incalculable his only brother gone. He blamed himself it was obvious from the way he shouted and cried and talked, the guilt on his shoulders crushed him. What else could I do? Everyone felt the loss, there had been no celebration, no victory speech only silence and grief in its place.

Blame was a communicable infection, I blamed myself for not finishing Belric sooner I could have killed him but I got cocky. Sir Zyal blamed himself for giving him the go-ahead to push into their ranks. It seeped its way into the hearts of any takers who could piece together even the slightest shred of reason as to how it was their fault and not the cold-blooded killer that struck him with that blow. The kill wasn't even chivalrous, it was a spectacle made to show off, he was denied the right to a fair and honourable death that ate away at many of us.

I had tended to him myself, sword and valuables would return to the Lady Essylt and his armour would be put in their hall of honour for his actions. It took what felt like half a day to separate Eynal from him it hurt worse to hear the desperate sobs as he tried to claw his way back. Now he was just tired, blocking the world out to avoid the pain.

Whitemoon had become an emotional oxymoron, relief, and grief. I felt at home and safe, but lonely and dejected. It was like looking through mystified glass. I knew where I was, making it out though was another thing.

Every day brought the same routine with it, nary a word would we speak to each other, and once a week he dragged me to some guard tower, where he resumed his silence the only difference was he had taken to sit as close to me as possible.

"Feeling any better today?" I asked him this every evening, and the same answer was provided every time without fail. It was a nice routine though, it gave me something to ask once in a while.

He responded with a hmph which I knew meant no. "They cleared his chambers today," I said carefully. "I stopped by briefly, it really set in then." I had stretched the truth there, I had in fact helped them clear it. Not enough time had passed and already it was like every part of Rob was being wiped clear. Eynal needed to talk about it and remove it from his conscience before he exploded.