Closed Resurrections and old ghosts

[Raeyn]

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Fall 46th, 518 AV

Some understood. Others never would. But the past is a ghost haunting everyone differently. To some it was a merciful tormentor, sparing them the clarity of reality and veiling every memory in a shroud of nostalgia, rendering the mind to endlessly search for that warm feeling. To those, nothing could compare to the perceived bliss of childhood. Others were not so lucky.

Blessed long enough to see two decades pass, a third nearing its end, some would say, but a lifetime long lived is a lifetime full of regrets. He had often found himself jealous of Sasha who lacking even a full year of experience, reeled the rewards of a quick adult wit whilst remaining blissful of the true horrors this world had in stock. There was an innocence to the Kelvic which his bondmate admired passionately. A focus of envy. It was the kind of innocence Raeyn could never hope to truly understand but that didn’t stop him admiring from afar.

But that very morning the Inarta woke up having come to a realisation. There were many things that sought to shatter that sweetness and urity in one fell swoop. And one of those very things was Raeyn himself. His damage wasn’t one easily contained in a neat package and hidden in the darkness under his bed, out of sight and out of mind. Without quite meaning to the evening prior he had opened the cage of demons. Now every time he touched the Kelvic, in the eye of him mind he’d come to see invisible, tar black marks where his hands were been.

Such was the nature of paranoia. A mind which looked for ghosts in darkness would eventually come to see them in the light as well.

It was foolish of him to pretend Sasha didn’t know that something began to brew beneath the surface. Some invisible sleep had been cast, though small, it could prove to be insidious. And banishment of such things was no easy feat. Foolish was Raeyn thinking a forced smile would be enough to hide his feelings, or the bags beneath his eyes from sleep avoided. Nothing could obscure what he felt, the presence of which manifested itself in their bond like a virus that would leave Sasha the one sneezing.

Yes strange as it all was, this new territory of his, Raeyn found himself perched on the windowsill, wide awake amid one of the citie’s many breaks for slumber. And anxious eyes looked outside the window as he pondered the strange object in his lap which quickly soaked though his tunic. Pale fingers grew to shiver and soften from condensation. Raeyn had found himself in possession of many magical items, being a mage of all things, but nothing like this. For the tear of Tanora was something else entirely. An otherworldly graveyard would be an apt description of it. A cruel reminder of the one thing the man wished to forget.

*Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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[Raeyn]

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Blasted be his curiosity! For Raeyn had so little wish to look into the magical orb once more. That he did not. There was noth No but sorrow at the end of that venture.

For a prolonged time his eyes rested on Sasha instead. Curled up in bed, with his eyes closed, fluttering beneath heavy sleep, breath steady as ever when diving in the lake of dreams. A beauty in the Inarta’s eyes. A precious gem to be protected at all costs. So why was it then that the lover who adored him had freed him from protective embrace that break in favour or the very definition of self torment. Intellectually Raeyn knew this made no sense, that his actions were irrational. But there was so little rationality in him as of late.

Comparing to last season, the bond had changed him vastly indeed. Once the ever so reclusive scholar now searched out companionship himself on the odd occasion. His evenings certainly no longer consisted of revelling in solitude between the pages of dusty books. The Kelvic’s interests began to become his interests and vice versa. But most of all, once ever so cerebral, Raeyn grew to relinquish the dams on his emotions, take down walls which he once held so sacred. Some might say he was becoming far more authentically himself, freed from the chains of decorum and propriety once beaten into him by his parents. But to Raeyn it was a troubling change. Once he could no longer deny in moments of intrusive self reflection.

Or maybe... maybe he was just overthinking it all.

Curiosity was a killer. That the two of them had in common; Raeyn and that petching curiosity of his. For having run laps around the flat twice over his eyes did indeed eventually come to settle in the liquid pool of the Tear of Tanora on his lap. And once there it felt to him as if some invisible force nailed them there permanently. A trembling hand tapped on the animated surface of the artefact. Beneath it visions came to life. To anyone looking who in that moment may have looked to the man they’d see a snapshot of time immortalised in the water. Raeyn however perceived it differently. For with a simple gesture he was stransported to a time almost a decade ago. The memory took over his senses.

*Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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[Raeyn]

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Guilt could come to be personified in many ways. Some would adopt rituals to sate theirs. Others weep prayers to gods. But how many people could ever come to boast of their guilt to be captured in the ripples of a 10 second memory that spoke of it all?

It frustrated Raeyn so very deeply. Such a long time he had put the event out of his mind, having found him self occupied with so very many other horrors this world had to offer. How very ironic it was that the moment his frazzled nerves found tranquility at last, this memory would be resurrected. An old ghost dug up once more, undead to force the Inarta to relive the same horror once more. A wound as fresh as the day it was carved in his mind.

As the man looked into the magical surface he found his own eyes looking back. Lashes as wide as they had every been till this very day. Lips trembling over gritted teeth. In his hands a sharp knife covered in crimson blood, the stench of which overwhelmed Raeyn’s senses. As if he was in the memory itself, he could feel the dead weight of the cadaver at the end of his bade pull hhis m down to his knees, the chilling cold as he realised what it was that he had done. A deathenning scream could be heard before the memory would cease. A moment later it would play again as if time itself was rewound in the blink of an eye.

Raeyn could feel tears well up in his eyes as he watched it all repeat over and over again. With each passing turn the gravity of what he’d done that fateful day weighed heavy on his conscience. Of how he wished he could take it all back. All of it. With each rewatch he’d think of ways he could have handled the situation differently, made plans of a do~over which he’d never have a chance to accomplish.

Sasha’s words from last night ringed out in his ears as the man relinquished his sanity to self flagilation. The bastard deserved it. For his sins it was a just punishment and he had it coming. but Raeyn was no vindicator. He was no hand of law nor self righteous vigilante. It would be easy for others to condemn the actions of his victim who beat the he ever loving daylights out of his son, Raeyn’s closest friend. It for the Inarta that judgement was no longer an option for hthe Weber cruel and deplorable that man was, at least he didn’t kill anyone. Raeyn could not quite say the same about himself.

There were three people in this world who knew of the memory contained in the Tear of Tanora. Those were Li, Raeyn’s father and now Sasha. All people who cared for the redhead immensely. None whom held distant in their hearts for him. Perhaps it was the secrecy and the lack of consequence at fouls for why it was now that Raeyn found himself measuring out his own just punishment? Of that he could not be sure.

Lost in his pondering Raeyn came to see an abrupt end to the break. The world went on as it did. Time rolled like a never ending wheel. Stirred from his slumber, the rat Kelvic would at last open his eyes inly to find Raeyn out of arms reach to his very dismay.

*Boxcode by Allassanachassanya

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