Cervato - Girl On Fire (Part 1 of Cervato's Saga)

Resurrection - Holding Onto You

With Kurai gone, Cervato's worries only increased. Was he really that stubborn over their row that he'd stay away from their home, leaving her to care alone for Zen? Anger drove her as she asked her parents to help look after her son for a few days while she focused on work. Seated within her office, Cervato was reading through yet another application to join the guild. A dull ache settled within her shoulders, as she realized she had to repetitively review the same sentence at least three times before she understood.

And it was all due to her worries, fear, and anger. Dropping the papers in disgust, she fell back into her armchair behind the large desk, running her fingertips through her messy jet-black hair. The heat within her body soared. Something she thought she had under control, yet her impulse drove her to rise from her seat and slam everything atop her desk to the side. Papers floated to the ground, while other objects were sent scattered within her private quarters.

A low moan came from the Commander before slamming her hands atop the desk, the stinging pain upon her palms enough to draw her back into her senses.

"Gods what am I doing?" Releasing a choked sob as she sat back down, covering her face with both hands.

The memories of what transpired when they visited Saromire's funeral pyre played over and over. Torturing her. When Myra embraced Saromire. When they had been talking within his estate near the fireplace. That familiarity. When Saromire had mentioned Joan specifically, and the dagger he was prepping in the echoes of the past. Yet nothing for her. The only inclination was that Saromire had still been upset with her...but it all disappeared.

Jealousy. That evil emotion burned deep within her. Cervato reached for the set of keys clipped at her waist, shoving a particular one into the locked drawer of her desk. This place was where she kept most of them. The memories of Saromire. Away from her home besides his sword and the necklace he had given to her long ago.

Grasping the handle, she bit her lip, before opening it. Finding the letters from Ti'lay. Deronjur. Atreyu. And from him. The stacks of envelopes pushed to the side as she searched. A silver pair of shears was also knocked askew, from when she'd cut his hair more than once. He'd trusted her at least with that. Once or twice.

His sword that rested against her armchair did not resonate. Silent. Asleep. Or dead.

The fabric was finally found after several seconds of searching. It was one of the last things she had stolen from the man that still haunted her.

The damning heat within her died, as a sudden chill swept over Cervato's small frame. The illness subsided once more as warm tears stained her cheeks. A quiet sob echoed within the small space, as she clutched the shirt to her form. His. One of the last item's that still captured his scent, his cologne, and bringing back the memories of what she longed for more than anything.

Crushing that amulet had been satisfying. For it had taken away those visions of another that Saromire cherished. That damning jealousy choked her but she prayed for it to leave her thoughts. Give her peace. Inhaling slowly, the scent triggered memories of one night at the Lancastir estate. The intimate atmosphere. A gentle touch. And his warmth that was beyond overwhelming that made her want to survive.

Then she locked them all away again.