Solo Catharsis

[Ronan]

Timestamp: 20th of Autumn, 512 AV They were still travelling, back towards Endrykas, but Ronan had taken a diversion. He found himself riding Tairell, trotting slowly through the grasses, looking around with a heavy heart. It was the anniversary of his brother's death, and this was the first time he had tried to commemorate it in some way. Every year he had tried, and yet he'd found himself unable. This time, he didn't feel sad. This time he could celebrate Darus' life. Life moved among the grass, and it swayed with the wind, dry parts snapping and crackling, and blowing away on errant gusts. Tairell zigzagged at his guidance, quiet, and seemingly pleased to be spending time with her Drykas alone. He touched her mane. Soft. She had been well looked after in Sanctuary. He didn't know of an animal that came out non-pampered by the stablehands. There was a lot of love there. Genuine, real, raw love. He remembered Darus' Strider. He'd been called Khoban. A hefty beast. Long of leg, and particularly fast. Darus had loved that horse dearly. But when he died in the grasses, the steed had fled, and never appeared again.

[Ronan]

The truth was, there was another reason for his tempestuous mind. He felt guilty that his thoughts dallied between Darus and another. Kavala. And that encounter on the hills outside of Riverfall. He couldn't forget it - no matter how hard he tried. But he hated thinking about her, when this day was Darus. He hated himself for letting her creep into his thoughts, rent everything open and just expose it to the light like this. He kicked at Tairell's side, urging her to speed up a little. He bobbed up and down, the motions exaggerated as she moved into a canter. She was steady on her feet. As fine a Strider as any. But in the moment he was barely thinking on what he was even doing. He was scrunching his face, trying to erase her from his mind. His brother had died this day. Died. Surrounded by glassbeaks, with nowhere to run, the bloodthirsty hunters swarming him until there was barely anything left. Ronan sobbed, as the Konti entered his thoughts again. "Damn you!" he screamed. He kicked at Tairell again, urging her onwards.

[Ronan]

His brother had made him the man he now was. He had taught him everything, in place of a stable father. That was not to say his father had been a weak one. But Michaeus had been sickly, and it was an illness that came and went, and Ronan would never know when his father could next give him lessons in the grass. Darus had been there, every step of the way, teaching him to fight with a dagger, and the basics of hunting and tracking. He could still picture him vividly. He had looked much like Ronan in the face, though slightly taller, and his hair had been somewhat thicker and longer. A dark mane, as opposed to Ronan's more closely cut and tufty hair. He had been handsome, or so many had said, though he had not yet found a wife at the time of his death. "Damn you, going and dying like that," Ronan growled. This time, he kicked Tairell again. The Strider had no problem, building up speed, taking her dash to the next level. They began to gallop across the grasses, horse and rider as one. But it was not harmonious. Ronan was brimming with anger. He rode for catharsis, hoping to work it through. But Kavala was an issue that just wouldn't go away. The way they had left it made the whole thing more painful. Much more. No one knew where they stood, only that words had been spoken - and had not been spoken - and an end had been heralded. But an end to what? Had they even gotten going? He held onto Tairell more tightly, tilting forward a little, almost embracing there as they rushed through the landscape. More than anything, he wished he had his elder brother here. His wise brother. His strong brother. Darus would know what to do, and what to say. Ronan... well Ronan was just unable to do or say anything. Every time, his world fell to ruin as he stood, unable to act.

[Ronan]

They went faster and faster, rocking about, moving like the wind. Tairell's powerful strider legs drove them onward. Ronan began to sweat, fringe sticking to his forehead. He was wrong. Absolutely wrong. He had to deal with things himself, and stop living through the assistance of others. He couldn't talk to Sama'el about it - the man had just lost a wife. Darus was dead. Dead and gone. And he had walked from Kavala of his own free will. He kicked Tairell again, sitting back a little but still gripping her. He shouted as they moved. Crying out to the grass, hoping the release would unlock something inside of him, and make him feel better. Anything to make him feel better.

[Ronan]

As he moved, the background and his surroundings melted into oblivion. Instead, flashes of everything that haunted his mind came to light. The melancholy truly ran deep. First he was a child, standing at Darus' death rites. Then he was being told of his parents demise. Glassbeaks. Zith. No one knew, but Ronan thought in his heart it was the latter. Bloodthirsty killers - the scourge of the grasses. Next he was with Siyana. Endless evenings of golden sun, and walking through the grass. Kisses. Cuddles. Late night chats in whispers. And then she faded, and shattered. Akilah, and finding his pavilion. Sam. Kavala. Kavala had several scenes on her own, such was the force with which she had come into his life. A woman of the divine serenity, and yet a Drykas girl all the same. Wilderness was in her blood, as much as the prophetic talent of the Konti. He was on the hill with her. Telling her all was said and done. All was done. Finished. Gone. He was walking away alone, saddened, and so strangely lost. Then he was on Tairell again, rushing through the grass. Her speed had become patchy, but she seemed so desperate to keep up with the pace he had pushed her into. He abruptly motioned for her to stop. What had he done to her? She was breathing heavily as he clambered down, snorting, eyes watering from the speed. He ruffled her hair, and kissed her nose. It was an equine apology. He hadn't been thinking. He'd driven her to an unsustainable speed. Comforting her for a few minutes, he then whispered for her to stay. He began to walk towards the nearest hillock. He walked quickly, the mixture of thoughts seething inside him. There was only one ending to this.

[Ronan]

When he got to the top he raised his arms towards the domain of Zulrav and let out an almighty scream. It lasted for an eternity, it seemed. Every thought, every shred of rage, anger, regret, sadness. It tumbled out into open air, manifested in shouts that passerby's would assume to be of a madman. Ronan didn't stop until he ran out of breath, and then he collapsed onto the grass crying. This was the only way. He had to let it all out, and alone, instead of forcing Tairell at breakneck speed with no consideration to her footing or fatigue. He cried until there no tears left. No air in his body, and now no tears. He rolled onto his back and began to catch his breath, shaky at first. There was a chilled wind blowing across the grasses, but he enjoyed the feeling against his flesh. The whole thing had been cathartic. What was blurred gradually became clearer as he sunk back into reality. Darus was dead - and there was nothing he could do about that. He had said what needed to be said to Kavala, and in truth he was not good enough for her. He had begun his training, to become a stronger Drykas, to become a warrior. Perhaps one day she would look on him with pride. Perhaps. He inhaled deeply, hands grounded firmly on Semele's realm, taking in the breath of her lover Zulrav. He had to be the change. The change his Goddess so wanted. Things changed around him, but damn it, he was not powerless! He lifted his hand into view, twirling it, the dreamstone catching the light in its infinite earthen depths. The nature of that mark meant he wasn't worthless... and who knew what the Gods knew. More than mortality, that was for sure. He could be something in this world, he was sure of it. But he had to make the change through his own convictions. Perhaps then he'd even have the power to reverse what had come before. He could not bring back the dead, but he could change people's views of him. He could cause a ripple around him, a wave of alteration.

[Ronan]

He stayed on the hillock for a long while, watching the clouds move, and pulling blades of grass from the ground. He rolled them between his fingers absently, thinking, pondering, considering. Finally, he came back down to the flat grasslands and found Tairell standing, waiting for him. Loyalty. He would always get that from her. He went to pet her again, and this time he reached into his bag to try and find a snack for her. An apology, in part. His hand came across an apple, and he held it out for her to begin biting into. Horses were herbivores at heart. They had been known to eat meat in strange, desperate situations, but it was not their diet. Fruit and vegetables, and other little treats kept them happy and healthy enough. She bit into it gleefully, brightening up at his return. "I'm sorry, old girl. Something came up, and I went a little... out of control." She looked at him curiously for a moment, before chewing the apple slice she had bitten off. "It's me and you, until the end, I promise."

[Jackalope]

Ronan

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Riding(Horse)	+3	Remembering the Lost
Observation	+1	Kavala: Always on my Mind
		Letting it All Out
		Tairell: My Loyal Strider

Jackalope's Notes

Enjoyed this thread. I could feel the emotion of it as I read. Not a lot of XP to give, but I hope you're happy with the lore. If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.