Wanna Hear A Funny Joke? Yeah, Me Too.
Funeral
Juggernaut
Professor
11-09-2024, 08:42 AM
Aresenn snarled, his teeth bared as he paced beside the grave, his claws tearing furrows in the soft earth. Absinth's words rang in his ears, each one a barbed arrow piercing his hide. "Wasn't made for battle?" he growled, whirling to face her. "We molded him, shaped him, gave him every tool to survive. If he wasn't ready, it's because we failed him!" The words tasted like ash on his tongue, bitter and choking. Failed. The word echoed in his mind, bouncing off the jagged edges of his grief. They had failed Indica, failed to prepare him for the cruelty of the world. And now their son lay cold and still, buried beneath the unforgiving ground.
Aresenn's chest heaved, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as he turned away from Absinth, unable to bear the weight of her gaze any longer. His claws dug into the earth as he stared at the grave, the mound of rocks and soil that now entombed their son. The rage that had burned so fiercely moments before began to gutter, replaced by a hollowness that threatened to swallow him whole. "We failed him," he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. The admission tasted like poison on his tongue, but he forced the words out, each one a shard of glass in his throat. "I failed him."
His mind reeled, flashing back to every training session, every lesson, every moment he had pushed Indica, honing him into a weapon fit to survive the trials ahead. But it hadn't been enough. Despite all their efforts, all their preparations, their son lay dead, cut down in the prime of his youth by an unseen predator that had slipped like a shadow between them. Aresenn's heart twisted with the desperate need to claw back time, to rewrite every misstep, every moment of neglect that had led to this catastrophe.
Aresenn stilled, the words sinking into his flesh like fangs. His amber gaze snapped back to Absinth, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. "You think I don't know that?" he snarled, his voice low and sharp. "You think I don't question every fucking decision that led us here?" He stalked forward, closing the distance between them until he stood in front of her- searching for any insight she had to offer. "We did what we had to do to survive. And now …” His voice broke, the anger crumbling to reveal the raw anguish beneath. "Now our son is dead. Because of the choices we made. Because of a game we tried to play." Aresenn turned away, his shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible weight. He stared at the grave, at the pitiful mound of earth that now cradled Indica.
Aresenn held Absinth's gaze, the weight of her words settling over him like a shroud. "Never again," he echoed, his voice rough with emotion. The vow hung in the air between them, a binding oath forged in the fires of their shared grief. He looked down at the grave, at the tangible proof of their failure. The sight of it seared into his mind, branding itself onto his very soul. This moment, this loss, would forever define them. It had to. To forget, to move on as if Indica had never been, would be the ultimate betrayal.
Aresenn's claws flexed, digging into the earth as if he could tear the very fabric of fate itself. But the world remained unchanging, indifferent to the storm that raged within him. He drew in a shuddering breath, forcing the air past the tightness in his chest. It filled him with a twisted mix of resolve and desperation. “So what of Abyssinca, Sericea, and Ludovic’s trials?” He asked lowly. Where they really going to stand against the Saxes on this? “Araxina and Dracun were victorious in theirs today …” He had been so proud, but the admission was nothing more than an after thought now.
"Aresenn Praetor"
Aresenn's chest heaved, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as he turned away from Absinth, unable to bear the weight of her gaze any longer. His claws dug into the earth as he stared at the grave, the mound of rocks and soil that now entombed their son. The rage that had burned so fiercely moments before began to gutter, replaced by a hollowness that threatened to swallow him whole. "We failed him," he repeated, his voice a hoarse whisper. The admission tasted like poison on his tongue, but he forced the words out, each one a shard of glass in his throat. "I failed him."
His mind reeled, flashing back to every training session, every lesson, every moment he had pushed Indica, honing him into a weapon fit to survive the trials ahead. But it hadn't been enough. Despite all their efforts, all their preparations, their son lay dead, cut down in the prime of his youth by an unseen predator that had slipped like a shadow between them. Aresenn's heart twisted with the desperate need to claw back time, to rewrite every misstep, every moment of neglect that had led to this catastrophe.
Aresenn stilled, the words sinking into his flesh like fangs. His amber gaze snapped back to Absinth, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. "You think I don't know that?" he snarled, his voice low and sharp. "You think I don't question every fucking decision that led us here?" He stalked forward, closing the distance between them until he stood in front of her- searching for any insight she had to offer. "We did what we had to do to survive. And now …” His voice broke, the anger crumbling to reveal the raw anguish beneath. "Now our son is dead. Because of the choices we made. Because of a game we tried to play." Aresenn turned away, his shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible weight. He stared at the grave, at the pitiful mound of earth that now cradled Indica.
Aresenn held Absinth's gaze, the weight of her words settling over him like a shroud. "Never again," he echoed, his voice rough with emotion. The vow hung in the air between them, a binding oath forged in the fires of their shared grief. He looked down at the grave, at the tangible proof of their failure. The sight of it seared into his mind, branding itself onto his very soul. This moment, this loss, would forever define them. It had to. To forget, to move on as if Indica had never been, would be the ultimate betrayal.
Aresenn's claws flexed, digging into the earth as if he could tear the very fabric of fate itself. But the world remained unchanging, indifferent to the storm that raged within him. He drew in a shuddering breath, forcing the air past the tightness in his chest. It filled him with a twisted mix of resolve and desperation. “So what of Abyssinca, Sericea, and Ludovic’s trials?” He asked lowly. Where they really going to stand against the Saxes on this? “Araxina and Dracun were victorious in theirs today …” He had been so proud, but the admission was nothing more than an after thought now.
