Veteran’s Plateau Altar

Sirius · 11-01-2022, 06:37 PM

The denial was so strong within the Warlord. Even as grief swamped him and slowed his muscles. Perhaps he was more idealistic than even he realised. That some part of him clutched to the hope that this wouldn’t be it. How could it? He had spent more of his life with Zee now then had ever existed apart. She was integrated into every part of his life. His Queen, his Wife, the mother of their children. The matriarch of a family that had stemmed solely from their pairing. When he had once held a quivering young Zee in his arms, shielding her from a storm that had brewed in the world beyond their cave, he had never known the full extent of what their lives would become. What it would mean to pick Zee over Deathbelle. How much of himself would be entwined with her, that he feared what sanity he would have left in her leaving it.

When Zee paused before moving to the altar, Sirius stopped with her. Scarcely daring to breathe, or break the silence his Wife wrapped about herself like a shroud. No doubt she also was considering their lives, their children. What the pair had accomplished and failed, and strived for in their lives. Perhaps her pseudo death should have prepared Sirius for the knowledge that they were mortal and frail, but some part of Sirius had always considered himself invincible, and even Zee’s returning to him had seemed like fate. They were destined to be together. Now, and forever. How could something as simple as death part them?

When she silently slipped off the pelt, he struggled internally. He would not cry, he would not let her see him weep again. She had seen enough of that these last few days. He would show her only strength now, and he held his breath, lest the rattling of oxygen sound like sobs. He helped her pull the coat over his own shoulders, and was enveloped in the scent of her. The urge to grab her, to grab her and drag her away with all the strength and speed he possessed overcame him. His muscles and jaw locked with the raging feel of that desperate need. There had to be another way.
Another way. Another way. Another way.

He found the strength to loosen again when she kissed him, and he grabbed her gently, holding her lips to his. Tasting her, feeling the warmth of her breath mingling with his own. He kissed her like a drowning man. Like a man knowing he would never taste the sweetness of her mouth again. “I love you, Zee Fatalis.” mine, mine, mine it rattled against his teeth, though he did not speak the words. She would not be his, not for long. She chose to give herself to a god, and forced the promise from him that he would let her. But he could not hate her for it. Not when the alternative was a slow, agonising death. To waste away as her family watched. He could not wish her that.

When Sirius looked at the mottled statue, he did not see the same things that Zee did. He did not see a wolf that brought pain, he saw a wolf that fought for what he believed in. Fought to hold what he loved, no matter what it cost him. A wolf that had swept through wars and worlds and dared to believe he was strong enough to fight in whatever battle he deemed worthy. Would this god understand what Zee was doing? Understand the impossible strength of letting Zee walk away from him, and take this path? He let her walk away from him, though he was close behind her. Two steps, one if he let his stride be long enough. She requested he close his eyes. Did she think him such a coward? He would hold, and watch, and remember. And if she deemed to turn to look at him one last time, all she would find would be whatever visage of strength contained within his flesh. He would give the love of his life nothing less than his all.

When he realised her chosen method was more brutal than he expected, he let out a hiss of breath, and broke any rules that might have stood unspoken between them. He surged forward, and knelt at her side, pressing his side to hers, though he managed not to tremble. A growl built in his throat, and turned into a howl. A long, high note of pain as his wife died beside him, and there was nothing, nothing in the world the Warlord could do to stop it. When he fell silent, paws sticky with her blood, he looked to the woman beside him. He kissed her forehead, and used the gentlest of motions to close her eyes. Locking away the sightless orbs that resembled little of the vibrant blue of life they had once been. He turned his attention at last to the statue itself. “I had thought myself prepared to offer you a gift, but realise now there is nothing in my possession that could ever amount to what has been given. This isn't a gift, but a token. While it is yours to do with as you please, if there is an afterlife, I hope you would pass it on to the life you were given today. To my wife. Zeitgeist Fatalis of the Armada, who died with all the reason that she lived by; for the sake of those she loved. Honored and loved by her family, creator of a legacy that will never die.” He took out the mask that he had prepared for this occasion, and rested it gently beside his wife. He knew it was time then for him to rise, and leave. But he found that he could not. He was not ready to leave her. Would he ever be?

Sirius is giving: Tiger mask

"Speech"

NPC:

The tabby does not rise as you approach, its stuttering purr reaching you even through your keening howl and it watches you with a gaze that seems to speak to a deeper understanding, a look that speaks of loss and grief and having to learn to let go. It says nothing as you close her eyes and as you offer your item, finding yourself unable to get up and leave her just yet the cat shuffles over, to press its warm form into you, its purr still going, a silent understanding of your grief.

For a while nothing happens, or seems to happen. The tabby continues to purr and you can hear some of the other familiars stifling sobs, but a sort of warmth settles over you, like a blanket placed lovingly over your form. The tabby opens its mouth to speak, but the voice you hear is not the ragged voice of the cat you’d heard while you waited… A voice you could not describe comes from its maw.

“A tested warrior must know how to let go, must learn how to get back up because those who don’t die. You have proven yourself a fighter, you have taken what is yours and now you must learn to let it go. This fight will never end, eventually you won’t be fighting every day but this fight will be with you for the rest of your life, but you must continue to move forward, because to fail to do so is to die. You are a warrior, and you must get up and keep going.” The cat falls silent then and the only sound you can hear is its low rumbling purr, it doesn’t even appear to have noticed its own words.

In the corner of your vision, you see a firefly land on your wife’s horns. It blinks a few times, then flies away.

Slowly you feel the warmth receding, the only point of it coming from the tabby who looks up at you and seems to know its time. It steps away and lets you have whatever last moments you want, though it remains ever close. “We will make sure she gets the burial she deserves.” It says softly, and then pushes a pouch on a leather cord towards you across the stone. “It can never make up for what you’ve lost, nothing ever will.” There is an intense pain there, one you recognize because it is the same as yours. You silently take the pouch and eventually find the courage to leave your wife’s body behind. But you don’t leave her behind, you never will.

Bleary eyed, you force yourself away. A firefly passes your vision and you find your attention following it. For a moment, you think you see a large cloaked figure deep in the woods, and for a split second, you see something you’re sure is your wife. Her horns are larger, she’s mystical and enchanting. You look just long enough to see the man hand her a golden mask.

Your eyes burn, and you blink. Now, there is nothing but a very fat raccoon chittering happily to thin air, a firefly on his ear.

You have received:
2" Growth spurt pass

Staff: note when claimed

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