Closed [The Great Harbor] The Mistake (Aren)

[Asen]

70th of Spring, 515 AV

Trigger WarningThis thread includes sensitive material not suitable for those who suffer from suicidal thoughts and depression. There will be mentions of sexual assault and alcoholism. Read at your own risk, but please be cautious and careful. If the storyline becomes too intense for you as a reader or if you think it will become too intense, please stop reading.

Asen strode along the pier calmly, hands stuffed into her pockets. To an outside observer it would seem like she was simply taking a midnight stroll, but her steps carried a weight that shouldn't have existed in such a youthful creature. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbow, proudly displaying the fiery burst of feathers on her wrist that extended upwards to disappear behind the cloth.

She was garbed in her newest clothing, her black trousers and her cream shirt. She'd left her high boots at the dorms, thinking it to be a lovely parting gift alongside the note she never wrote. Who was she to write a note to, explaining her actions? Sayana would be even more grief-stricken than she already was after the loss of her child and Aren was absolutely out of the question. She didn't really know how to contact Rhov and the rest of her friends -- acquaintances, really -- had left on a ship near the end of spring.

Her roommates probably couldn't care less about her departure. She'd left them a pair of shiny high boots. She didn't talk to them much, and she spent more time passed out at the Stallion than in her own dorms. There was a significant divide between her and the rest of the squires. Alcohol really took its toll.

The half-Dhani was surprisingly sober at this point, her decision solid and resolve unwavering. She hadn't spoken to anyone about it; what was the point? The pain was just too much. First Avanze and Etnava, then the Labyrinth and now the stillborn child that belonged to Sayana and Aren. She knew what she was doing.

She arrived at the spot she'd chosen. It was out of the way and it was a couple bells past midnight, so everyone on the boats or nearby would be either drunk or asleep. She licked her lips anxiously, glancing behind her to make sure she wasn't followed. She couldn't have anyone stopping her. She was ready to throw herself into Dira's arms.

The squire stopped at the edge of the pier, staring down at the water. The murky liquid reflected Leth's face and called to her, singing its tempting song. It wanted her to jump already, to let the darkness flow over her and suck the breath from her lungs. She wished it was freshwater, because the saltiness of it stung her eyes each time it slapped against the pier.

She knelt and reached down as far as she could to test the temperature. She needed it to be cold, to chill her from the outside in as quickly as possible so the process would not take as long. Why didn't she just use a blade, you ask? Because she was afraid of the ocean and she'd rather die conquering her fear than running from it like she always had.

The next slap of the tide against the pier sent water spraying onto her hand and it shocked her physically, if not mentally. Yes, it was plenty cold. The weight that hung in her chest increased as she stood, brushing off her knees. Did she want to take her clothes off to spare them? If she did the water would affect her further and make everything go faster. That was what she wanted.

Asen lifted her shirt over her head and folded it neatly, her trousers following with slow, arthritic movements. It was summer, yes, but water didn't hold heat as well as something solid and the nights cooled quickly. She stood on the edge of the pier in only her undergarments, thin arms wrapped around her torso.

She took one last look around and smiled. It was peaceful, at least for Syliras. The blonde turned her gaze back to the water and sighed. She inhaled deeply and held her breath, legs bending and straightening to propel her off the pier and into the dark depths. This is what she wanted.

The intense chill caused a scream to erupt from her throat in a cloud of bubbles, half of her air already gone. She sank, though not as quickly as she would've liked. Another, far smaller cloud of bubbles emerged from parted lips and she felt the pressure on her body increase. She was already cold. This is what she wanted.

The half-Dhani allowed more air to escape. Her lungs burned like she'd gotten them too close to Syna's rays. She couldn't feel her arms. She couldn't feel her legs. She could feel nothing but the scorching lungs. This is what she wanted.

The remaining reserves of air left her and by reflex she inhaled. She sucked in water, attempting to cough it out and only getting more. Panic rejuvenated the drowning girl, sending her limbs into motion and flailing them, but her muscles were cold and movements far too lethargic to do anything but gain barely a foot of altitude, quickly lost as she sank again.

This was not what she wanted.

She wanted it to be quick. She didn't want to breathe in water because it was her only choice. She couldn't scream. She couldn't send a signal to the nearby ships. She couldn't swim. She didn't see anyone following her. She was well and truly lost to the depths, though she could see Leth shining above her even through the pain of saltwater ripping through her eyes.

Worst of all, she realized she wanted to live and there was nobody around to save her. She was gone, and hardly anyone would mourn her absence. She'd stopped inhaling water at this point, merely drifting as she waiting for the cold to take her seeing as how panic had left her exhausted. She was so stupid, because she wanted to go out conquering her fears and now she wasn't even brave enough to get through her problems.

Everything that was wrong could be fixed, and in the darkness she could find every single solution -- but it was too late.

[Aren]

This was not the first night that Aren had found himself walking the streets of Syliras alone. His son was dead, and the hole he had left behind felt like it might swallow him whole. At least he had Sayana, he tried telling himself. At least there was still hope for a future; she seemed to be as ephemeral as mist over the last few days, however. His wife would leave without saying a word and not return for some time. They barely spoke to each other anymore, and the Akalak came to the heart-wrenching realization that he was losing her too. Aren didn't know what to do about any of it, though. He couldn't bring their son back, and he could no more soothe Sayana's grief than he could soothe his own. He had hoped that together they'd find the strength to get through this, but they were hardly ever together anymore. Finding himself coming home to an empty house repeatedly, Aren had wondered where the Eypharian had gone. He'd tracked her down using the Lakan he had given her out of concern, but this had only served to pusher her away even further. Now, the Akalak simply tried to accept that his own wife didn't want to be around him, although the feeling sunk into his stomach like a massive, writhing worm. "Why do we stay, brother? I can hardly stand to look at these walls anymore." Seros had felt the passing of his nephew almost as much as Aren had, and if Sayana was lost to them, he'd rather be away from this damnable city. His brother still clung to hope, however; he still thought there might be a chance for them, even if it was a slim one. The darker Other knew his thoughts, though, and he saw that Aren suspected this hope was merely foolish optimism on his part. As the towering blue warrior walked aimlessly, he ended up at Syliras' harbor area. The sea air was refreshing, but nothing could dilute the pain he felt in his chest, nor the despondency evident on his face. He tried to breathe deeply, to beat back the desperation that threatened to swallow him whole, but it was little use. He understood that he was just going to have to add another one of those memories that a hundred years from now would still be waking him up in the middle of the night to his collection. Aren breathed out, his whole body quivering with the futility of trying to accept that he had lost everything he cared about in a single swoop. The gods deeming to be merciful, however, his eyes were drawn to a figure in the darkness which temporarily distracted him from his grief. His infravision allowed him to make out the form perfectly, but she was still far. It was a woman, that much he could tell, with short hair. Her back was turned to him, though, so he wouldn't have been able to make out her face, even if he had been closer. She looked like she had a tattoo of some kind on her arm, easily visible because of how extensive it was. "I think she's taking off her clothes..." The Akalak thought, in complete astonishment. Was someone going for a midnight swim, in this water? Drawing nearer after she had thrown herself from the pier, Aren felt like something wasn't right. Where was she? The closer he got, the more certain he became that the girl hadn't surfaced. Why would anyone do this now? It was dark, the water was cold... if she got in trouble, there would be no one around to lend a helping hand. Suddenly, the possibility that this was exactly what she wanted dawned on him, and the Akalak's body reacted reflexively. "You idiot, that's probably the point!" Aren didn't think about the fact that maybe he had no right to stop her as he undid the strap on his chest and broke into a sprint. He didn't even think about the fact that maybe she had perfectly good reasons for wanting to die, and who the hell was he to tell her she shouldn't? He didn't think about much at all, except that he just couldn't take seeing the end of another life right in front of him, again. Diving head first into the water, Aren hoped that the girl still retained enough body heat in the frigid liquid for his infravision to be able to make her out with relative ease. Luckily, that seemed to be the case, and the Akalak headed unerringly in her direction. The cold almost seemed to make him swim faster, spurring his muscles to warm themselves, and he swiftly reached his objective. Wrapping an arm around the woman's waist, Aren kicked hard, knowing that she didn't have much time. She was getting colder by the moment, and who knew how much water she had already swallowed. He had to get her out, and he had to do it now. It was no easy task making headway while dragging someone else with him, but eventually the girl's would-be savior managed to get her head above the surface of the water, and to the shore shortly thereafter. Breathing with some measurable difficulty, Aren wouldn't have been much more help to her even if he had know what to do, as this was the first time he had ever kept someone from drowning themselves. "Are you... are you ok?" The Akalak's chest heaved up and down, as he tried to catch his breath, before finally getting a good look at the face of the woman he had saved, "A-Asen?!" Aren could hardly believe his eyes. Why had she done such a thing?

[Asen]

Asen had desperately tried to stop swallowing water, but the instinct to cough it out only resulted in more flowing down her throat. Once she realized this she simply closed her mouth and waited for what little air she had left in her lungs to run out. What she could see was being enveloped by black and darkness, and she felt nothing but the cold settling in her bones. It was all so cold... Even if she moved, there was a numbness that replaced her limbs.

Brief warmth slid across her waist and she vaguely felt an arm tighten around her, then the drag of water as she was pulled upwards. Was someone really saving her? Or was it just Dira, come to take her away from the pain? She hoped it was the latter, but the depression failed to lift from her body.

Bells passed, it seemed, before she was hauled to safety. The half-Dhani laid there for a moment, waiting to see if she was still underwater. The chill of a breeze across her wet skin told her otherwise and she struggled to escape from the claws of unconsciousness, turning onto her side. She retched, seawater and half-digested alcohol from earlier spewing onto the ground.

She got on her hands and knees to keep the contents of her stomach from getting into her soaked hair, which was now falling into her eyes. The squire moaned pitifully and held her head in her hands, shivering from both weakness and cold. She peeked out from behind her fingers at her supposed savior.

Blue. She couldn't handle this. Not now. Gods, not now. She scrambled across the ground away from the Akalak, heart thumping wildly as she put distance between them. She couldn't scream, the saltwater had stolen the moisture from her throat and she was far too exhausted to muster up the energy for anything other than breathing and living.

The blonde's panic attack never came, though. While she had seen Etnava, her subconscious recognized the face of Aren. She breathed a sigh of relief, letting her limbs relax. "Aren," she croaked, "Thank you. I- I'm fine."

The tears in her eyes said otherwise. Asen looked away from the Akalak, wiping away the salty tears with a sniffle. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them, ignoring the unpleasant taste in her mouth. She didn't want to face him, not after this. It was too... too embarassing. "You can leave now, Aren. I can get home myself."

While it was clear that she was definitely not okay from her ragged breathing to the shivering that plagued her, the stubborn girl didn't want to show weakness in front of someone like him. She'd thrown herself off the pier in an attempt to take her life, and after realizing she didn't want to die the mighty Aren himself rescued her. Now, however, she was contemplating throwing herself back in the water.

[Aren]

"I don't have anywhere else to be." Aren turned his neck to face her and tried to smile, but he simply couldn't bring himself to. He had nothing to smile about and he was not a good enough actor to be able to force such a gesture at this point in time. Knowing that Asen didn't need his own mood further poisoning her own, the Akalak turned his gaze towards the water they had just emerged from. He wasn't very good company right now, but he also couldn't leave. He wouldn't. Aren had lived a long time, and he had seen things which would make anyone want to die, so there was no judgement in his eyes. He knew, from far too much personal experience, that life sometimes robbed you of the strength to continue enduring it, and often there was nothing you could do about it. Some people fought through those moments, but others chose to give up. Some might consider surrendering to be cowardice, yet at times it took courage to subdue the instinct to live and embrace the end. "I..." For the first time, it had occurred to Asen's saviour that perhaps he had done her a disservice by negating the bravery it took for her to do what she had done. "I'm sorry." Aren's shoulders sunk, and it was obvious that he was not in the most emotionally stable place, right now. "I just... I couldn't stand by and do nothing when there was someone I could save right in front of me. I couldn't take any more death." The Akalak's neck fell between the space created by his bent knees, and his headed shook slowly from one side to another, as if he stubbornly refused to admit that some questions simply had no answers. "I know I may have no right to ask anything of you, but if I could ask you a favour..." His words were almost devoid of feeling, like some invisible beast swallowed them in mid-air and all that escaped was an echo of what he was trying to say. "Don't die. Just don't... just stay here... just..." Aren hadn't cried that day, or any of the subsequent days after he had seen that lifeless little body. He couldn't bring himself to accept that it had really happened, despite what all of his senses reported, and somewhere inside of him he held out the foolish, desperate hope of a parent that it had all been a mistake. He still thought him and Sayana would get through this, that one day they'd look back and reminisce about the time it all almost ended. Right now and right here, though, that all seemed to change. He felt the swelling of his chest and, completely unable to stop, allowed all the pent up feelings that he had been bottling up for days to escape. His son was gone, damn it, and his wife wasn't too far behind. Aren's world was coming to an end, and there was shit all he could do about it. The helplessness that he felt threatened to consume him, and for a single moment, it was all just too much for him to bear. The veneer of stoicism fell, and the only sound he could produce was one of agony, sadness and desperation.

[Asen]

He didn't have anywhere to be. Of course he didn't. The man had just lost his son, for Siku's sake. How could she be so thoughtless? And she helped bury the body!

Asen stared at her former lover with a blank expression when he began apologizing. Why was he apologizing to her? He had no reason to, in her eyes. He'd saved her after she'd realized that she didn't want to die, like some forgotten god who sensed her regret and appeared at just the right time.

She opened her mouth to promise him that she wasn't going to die, that he did the right thing and she should be thanking him over and over and over again, but the noise that came from him was unlike any she'd heard before. It was the cry of a man who had witnessed the death of his child, who had suffered for far too long already and another lifeless body that wore a familiar face would shatter him beyond repair.

It was a sound that put a hole in the half-Dhani's heart and brought tears to her eyes. She knew that if he hadn't gotten to her when he did, her death would've been the final blow that broke him. He was already on the verge of it because of her attempt. She owed him something, yet there was nothing to give.

She moved towards him. "Aren... Aren, I... I en't gonna die," she murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I promise I en't."

There wasn't much to say after that. How could she explain to him the gratitude she felt? Words wouldn't suffice. It wasn't like when they were in Riverfall; she couldn't just throw sand at him and laugh it off. She couldn't laugh anything off. Her hand slid from his shoulder to his wrist and she shifted so she sat directly beside the Akalak, putting his arm around her. She needed as much warmth as she could get.

It was her fault. The moment she'd come in contact with Sayana was the moment she'd doomed the child. She should have known better, to not touch a pregnant woman. The weight of stillborns that rested on her shoulders now rested on Sayana's and Aren's, and it was all her fault. She was the cause of their grief, it was her touch that killed the couple's son. She was cursed, or it felt like it. Did Sayana become barren, too? Was she robbed of the chance to have more children?

The squire wrapped her arms around Aren, savoring the warmth that he held. "It'll be okay, Aren. It'll be okay." Except her promises were all but empty and all she could do was hope -- if even that. Hope was running low, it seemed, but it was the only thing she could give him.

It then occured to Asen that there was something else she could give him. Their physical closeness and the memory of their brief affair had reminded her that while she may have been a vessel void of emotion, she was still a vessel. She was still a body.

A hand of that body was moved away from the Akalak's torso and up to his cheek, where it turned the man's face towards her. She watched him for a moment with dead eyes. "I'm so sorry, Aren," she whispered, and pressed her lips to his in a soft but passionless kiss.