Closed Cairn of Lies [Gale McCenry]

[Kendhl Pilkvist]

5th of Winter, 514 AV
Mirahil Pass

It was cold. So very cold. It was winter, after all. However, the cold no longer affected Kendhl due to her ghostly state. It was something to worry the living, not the dead.

Kendhl had stayed near her deathplace for a long time. Two seasons, she reckoned. Her movements were sluggish, at least until someone happened upon her grave. She'd become aggressive, driving them away. She'd learned how to blink. This routine had turned the ghost into a bleak little thing with hollow eyes. It was ripping her heart apart.

Only one time had she paused in her angry advances; one of them looked familiar. Somewhat tall, with golden curls and sea blue eyes. But it wasn't Gale. The person was a girl, there was no way it could've been him. Besides, he'd abandoned her long ago.

Kendhl patrolled her little region, wary and alert. Today was different. It had felt wrong, and her Soulmist swirled with unease. Yes, something was different. But what was it? It was just winter, after all. She'd survived through winters before, when she was alive. Perhaps it was just because it was her first winter dead.

But it couldn't have been. It was winter a few days ago, and nothing was different or wrong. The girl had an urge to rip through her Soulmist, like an itch under her skin that couldn't be scratched. It sent shivers through her body. What was it, if it wasn't death? She scrolled through her memories, trying to figure it out. It almost hurt to not know.

Something was definitely, obviously wrong.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

For those who become attached to remembering the past and the people within it, over time it became hard to forget. It became hard to forget the light that shined the days previous, or how the wind rustled the grass ever so slightly. How the distance beckoned, how your feet followed the path. But more importantly, it was impossible to forget the innocence surrounding the voice of someone you loved.

It was surprising to find just how far the world leaves you behind. Since the day of that abhorrent attack or that enlightening encounter it had nearly been two seasons. Ricky had gone and left and has returned safely, Martin was about a year old now, for Ssena's sake. A year old. It felt like just a few bells ago he was just an infant laying in his arms and wailing for his parents to come home.

No, time didn't wait for anyone. No mattered what you did, it kept ticking on.

Now it was Winter. The air seemed to frost your every breath and the fish seemed to have left to the warmer areas of the world. Peopel freuented the streets less and less, feeling more inclined to remain indoors by their fire. All of Zeltiva appeared to have a subtle, solemn look about. It did during most winters.

Despite this ever changing and ticking clock of time, Gale couldn't forget. He still remembered every snarl, ever cry, ever crack with that forest. He still remembered those precious final moments and the rotting corpses and blood stained dirt. The hole and dangling thread within him reminded him every day. Almost like a less than subtle nudge saying,"Hey, remember her". A not so subtle yank on his heart strings every time he folded his hands together or clenched his fists, or reached for his charoal. It was like it was yesterday.

That slight push was what got his coat on that afternoon. Mornings were far too cold now to be wandering Mirahil Pass. Slipping on his white, linen tunic and black trousers, he pulled on the dark brown cloak that always felt too heavy to carry. He didn't carry anything else, seeing as there was no need for other items and the objects he could have used had been long forgotten as his mind simply wondered if he remembered the path.

Of course he remembered.

With heavy soled boots and a hood over his head, the blonde walked the streets of Zeltiva alone with only his thoughts. Eventually this stone path turned into the coarse dirt that was the Mirahil pass. It was hard to miss given the years of travel by both caravans, hooves, and feet. But he still remained silent, feeling the cold air soak even through his cloak. His blue eyes paid no attention to the thick white fog that escaped his mouth every time he exhaled and instead, narrowed his surroundings to just the path ahead of him. As usual, it didn't take long for his feet to gain their barrings again and turn at just the right moment to find the now subtly overgrowing path that was once just as distinct as the pass itself.

The memories flushed through his again, giving the man some almost recognizable colour in his cheeks.

If he was recognizable at all, that is. His hair was quite long now, showing it's distinct, wavy curls. Even the scruff that lined his jaw showed the waves and perhaps even some specks of silver strands. It was hard to imagine, be he had grown even thinner over the course of time, though it was not intentional. And with the scars on his hand and the mark that shimmered, those who didn't know his face well would call hims a stranger.

With his now usual limp, he huffed slightly as he hiked the slight incline of the slops. He was out of practice walking this path, and with his faltering steps, it was abnormally and surprising difficult. But perhaps the cold was making an effort to slow him down as well. Thankfully, however, he didn't need to go far.

As Gale encountered the all familiar trees and watched the slowly moving scenery, he could sense the hovering eerie mist about the place. At first it was simply from the thoughts that wouldn't escape his head, but once they passed it became apparent that it was in the land itself. The blood that was spilled almost seemed to have cursed the very ground he walked on, and as he ventured forward, vexatious chills ran down his spin, causing him to shiver and rub his arms with his emaciated, pale fingers.

With only a dozen or so yards left to pass in order to reach the headstones on the small burial ground, his pace significantly reduced to almost nothing. He felt he was inching forward as he saw the stones in the short distance ahead. His muscles stiffened anxious and his eyes has skimmed over the scenery around him in a apprehensive manner. His ears were tuned into the sounds of the wilderness, listening to the wind running through the naked trees almost in anticipation of another pernicious growl or a cataclysmic snarl.

[Kendhl Pilkvist]

Footsteps. Someone was coming. A change came over Kendhl, her back straightening. She hid behind a tree and began to prepare herself, figuring out a plan. She'd blink in front of the person, screech loudly, and then run through their body. It would probably freak them out, too, seeing a ghost in the middle of the woods.

Kendhl peered around the tree, just enough to see the person arrive. They were thin, almost painfully so, with blond curls peeking out from the hood on their head. Why were they near her grave? They had stopped right in front of the headstones. Perhaps they were simply curious as to why there was a grave in the middle of the woods.

The ghost cleared her throat slightly. She blinked twice, once halfway between the person and the tree, then again to right in front of them. Just as she was about to scream her eyes landed on the person's face and the sound caught in her throat. He looked familiar, just like...

"Gale?" Kendhl's voice was tight with shock. She hadn't seen him since the day she died. Why was he here? He never visited, at least not while she was present. It couldn't be him.

Except it was him. Her bondmate. The man she loved in the short time she'd known him. He looked so thin, so sad. Kendhl took a step back, looking him up and down. The look in her eyes softened. His hair was longer, and he had the beginnings of a scruffy beard. But it was him. The frantic urge to rip her Soulmist apart had left her. It was proof.

A small smile touched her lips, then faded as her gaze landed upon his hand. It was just thumb and forefinger now, with a small vortex-esque design decorating the skin. The ghost reached for it, then drew back. She couldn't touch him. She'd go right through. She was still dead, no matter how alive he could make her feel.

Common - Fratava

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Despite his decreased pace, Gale eventually made it to the base of the two slight mounds of dirt and dirt covered rock. With his hands in his pockets, his head lowered, surveying the ever faint footprints of unfamiliar boots.

Gale wasn't the one that made that grave. He wasn't the one that buried or even put that head stone there. As a matter of fact, this was the first time he had lain eyes on what was left of the corpse he had buried under bramble and pine. Ricky was the one who did it for him as he merely wept in mourning on a stiff hospital bed. It must be Ricky's foot prints as he walked away from the horror.

Gale's fists curled up in fists inside his pockets. He should have been the one that buried her. It was his fault she wasn't standing here today.

So maybe he was the one that put her there after all.

Gale looked up as something came into his peripheral vision. With eyes wide and ears locked onto his surroundings again, watching the shallow forest in front of him. Nothing appeared to be there for what seemed like several chimes. With his amount of paranoia, he figured it was just a few leaves falling from a tree. He closed his eyes and took an elongated breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. His eyes snapped open again, but seeing a faded being a yard or so away.

Eyes widening again, the widower let out a audible gasp, taking a few steps back and pulling his hands out of his pockets. It was gone even before he could blink. Teeth clamped, mind scattering for answers, Gale yanked himself around, looking frantically around his vicinity. Someone, or something was there, but the mystery shrouding it's identity made Gale's hands subtly twitch. He quickly pulled down his hood, enabling himself to view his surroundings better, still surveying the horizon for the oddity.

The murderer pulled himself to look back again, only to find the the nearly transparent ghost before him.

Within the dead eyes of the translucent being, Gale seamlessly watched her slender leg crack. He watched himself as he looked over, observing the yellowing teeth drink the life from her neck. His eyes narrowed as the snarling beast hurling through the air at him. With his knife in hand, Gale let out a horrified scream, flinging his arm at the intangible being, only to find his hand flash with light instead of holding the blood stained blade.

Hitting nothing, his hand passed through the impalpable terror, causing him to continue to twist unexpectedly. Unbalanced and in shock, Gale tripped over himself, landing on the unforgiving ground with a loud thud. He quickly got onto his all fours, but froze in said state, refusing to get up the rest of the way off the ground.

Eyes still wide and starring at the frosted dirt, he breathed heavily, the cold breath emitting from his mouth acting like a barrage of fog pouring onto the ground before dissipating. His mind quickly reviewed the event, both the disappearance and then the reappearance.

It was her. It was definitely her. But it couldn't be real. She was dead. And ghosts wouldn- they couldn'-she was here. And angry. She knew what he did. She blamed him, that's why.

Both rational and irrational thoughts seemed to pass through his mind all at once. His breathing slowed down but only because they were interrupted by gasps and whimpering. The man's eyes closed tightly, a salt drop managing to squeeze through and fall to the ground. He shouldn't have come at all. He should have just left the scars of battle alone. Because if he had he wouldn't have known he was crazy.

Because that's why she was back. Because he was crazy.

[Kendhl Pilkvist]

Kendhl didn't even flinch as his fist swung at her face. So many who had stumbled upon her grave had done the same exact thing. The light had startled her, though. She looked down at the fallen blond, frowning. Why was he surprised? He knew about ghosts, right?

It's probably because you're the one who's dead, ya dumb, her mind told her. The ghost crossed her arms and a finger tapped her cheek. This wasn't like him. What had happened to her Gale, the one she knew a summer ago? What had happened to him in the time she was away?

"Gale? Are you okay?" She kneeled before him and placed her palms on the ground, dropping even lower to see his face. A single tear tracked its way down his face and fell to the ground. Was he crying?

Kendhl lifted a hand from the ground and attempted to touch her bondmate's face. Well, her ex-bondmate. As expected her fingers passed right through his flesh. The once-Kelvic's frown deepened.

She focused on her hand, willing it to solidify. Surprisingly enough, it did. Kendhl's eyebrows rose, but returned to their normal position once the solidity faded. She allowed her digits to hover over Gale's cheek, then tried it again.

Kendhl smiled. It had worked. She could feel him. "Gale? It's okay. You aren't crazy or anything. I'm... I'm dead, yeah, but I'm still here."

The ghost could feel her hold slipping on the living world already. She'd have to let go of him again. She didn't want to let go. Kendhl took an ethereal breath and released her grip on the solidity of her form. She turned translucent again, Soulmist swirling soothingly.

"It's okay, Gale. It's okay."

Common - Fratava

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Despite the numerous tellings of flickering beings and gruesome images of those who have died, the ferocity of such beings never fully stuck with the man. Even upon encountering such a girl within the University, it was as if his mind blocked out the possibility of it being real. Or maybe it was the possibility of it pertaining to him, or the ones he knew. All this time he couldn't bring himself to imagine the possibility almost as if to guard his heart or some other form of ignorance.

But now she's here, and he's gone mad.

Several more tears started to break through and roll down his cheeks. But even still, it was as if he was still trying to block it all, only being able to hear a muffled call, almost as if it was distant.

It all was clear now. Because he came here, he had accepted his fate and now it was consuming him. Her voice, the images, the frost. It was all here to torment him and pull as his insanity. But the only reason why it was hurting was because he was trying to go back.

At first he failed to take deep breaths, it only spewing out brief sobs. But then a flickering and hollow hand skimmed through his cheek. The cold caused his jaw to tense up, his fists curling and grasping the hard dirt. The blue eyes opened, starring at the ground, his jaw slowly relaxing again, allowing his breath to no longer pass through his teeth. His ears picked up only a partially coherent call of his name, seemingly closer, however.

But then her fingers grazed and pressed upon his cheek. He instantly exhaled, his jaw clenching again as his skin prickled from the frigid and numb touch. His ears wallowed in wave likes sounds before it vanished, him hearing the sounds of the cold, nearly abandoned pass. He heard his name, and yanked his head in the direction, his blue eyes falling upon her translucent silver.

"You aren't crazy or anything."

His eyes narrowed onto her hand which was slowly brought away, losing it's tangibility and becoming nothing but a mere shadow if it's former self. The cold on his cheek dissipated slowly and he was able to let out a heavy breath, his eyes still glistening with water.

"It's okay, Gale. It's okay."

Looking at her with sorrowful eyes, he spoke, his voice wavering uneasily,"If I'm not crazy then what am I?"

[Kendhl Pilkvist]

Kendhl's own eyes welled up with ethereal tears. A smile returned to her face. She sat back on her heels.

"You're my bondmate, Gale. You're okay. Listen, I died, and I-I don't know what happened afterwards. But I'm back here. I-I've been here for a long, long time. I looked for you like, two seasons ago or something. I was in Zeltiva, but I couldn't find you. But you're okay, you're alive. I'm a- I'm a ghost, but I'm okay, too. I found you. It's okay."

The girl was hunched over again, hands fluttering in frantic little motions like a flock of startled birds. Her voice shook and translucent tears spilled down her face to drip into nothingness. She was okay. Gale was there. They were going to be okay.

Kendhl sniffed and took a deep breath, calming herself. She stood, her legs almost giving out. It was probably a good idea to change the subject.

"How- how's Ricky? And Telion? Didn't they have a baby?" She rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, then extended the same hand to her bondmate. The hand solidified. Now that she knew how to do it, sort of, it was easier. The skin flickered and her edges were blurred, though. It was far from perfect. Maybe with practice it'd get better.

Her gaze switched from her hand to Gale. Gods, he was beautiful, even when he was crying. His hair looked good long, too. But he was still thin. Kendhl, momentarily distracted, allowed her hand to fade into translucence again, but focused once more and solidified it. It was time for him to stand up, and she felt he wasn't going to do that without help.

"Come on, McPainty."

Common - Fratava

[Gale Austin McCenry]

A bondmate. Of course he was. But he was also a hypocrite, a bastard child. A murder. A liar.

He lied to Kendhl. The day she died. He lied to her about his past and where they were. Lied straight to her face when she asked a simple question. He let her drown in her own blood while he cowered away. He lied... then he let her go.

How could he let her go?

He looked back down at the ground as she went on, explaining how things were, ignorant in her own naive way about what really happened. It was just like her to act like everything was fine and she was. It was just like her to say something as cruel as that and be oblivious to what it actually meant. But why should she know what it meant? What use was it to her that she wasn't okay, that nothing was okay? She was already dead.

Letting the moisture accumulate around his eyes and falling down his face, Gale sniveled, allowing Kendhl to continue on. Repeating the same malignant word over and over again. Okay, okay, okay, it'll be okay, okay, okay. She did try, though. To change the subject. Ricky and Telion did have a baby. A precious boy named Martin he got to take care of and hold in his arms. Martin was fine. Ricky and Telion were okay.

But Kendhl wasn't. He wasn't.

"Come on, McPainty."

Gale shook his head. "No it's not." He sat back on his legs, letting the dirt he had fall from his hands. "It's not okay." His breathing started to become more sporadic once more, tears now evenly strolling down his red cheeks. "I'm not okay, you're not okay." He never even acknowledged her outstretched hand nor it's flickering. "You're dead." The man began sobbing, his dirty hands covering his face. "It's not okay." He managed to mutter once more.

[Kendhl Pilkvist]

Oh gods. Ohh gods. He was crying more now. Kendhl dematerialized, chewing her lip. She had no clue how to comfort people at this stage of their grief. "Gale. Gale, calm down. I suppose you're right, though. It might not be okay. But I'll make it okay, eventually. Alright?"

She kneeled again. Why was he like this? It wasn't the usual Gale. He'd refused to talk about Ricky and Telion. Kendhl was sure it would've gotten them moving. Was it something to do with the day she died? She looked down at her hands, then through them to the ground below.

"What's happened, Gale? What's happened, in the time I've been gone?" The ghost thought back to a year ago. The growling and snapping of dogs filled her mind, sending shudders down her spine. But that wasn't it. He'd been acting weird before that. It felt like there was a block in her memories, keeping her from accessing the information.

The grave in the woods. That had to have been it. But then, why would it be important? Was he just uncomfortable with death? Kendhl stared at her bondmate. Just how many people he loved had died?

Common - Fratava

[Gale Austin McCenry]

He was fighting it again. It was starting to tear at him. His eyes squeezed closed again, his jaw clenching. He continued to sob through his teeth. Shyke! Stop fighting it! It'll only hurt worse by fighting it.

The widower's mind raced through the facts, scurrying and attempting to find every possible detail to try and convince himself that he wasn't crazy, or maybe to find that he was. But a thought entered him, making him open his eyes.

He needed to calm down. Think it through. His eyes zipped to his deformed hand, which he lowered from his face to see. The blue and red eyes followed the vortex like a dog would it's prey before flipping his hand over so his palm was right side up. Although his hand shook slightly, a soft orb of light grew from it, lighting the immediate vicinity with the brightness of a torch.

His eyes starred into it's center, the warmth from the light seeming to soak into his being, making the man's breathing gradually slowing. The comfort emitting from light held back the rest of his tears, the dreadful sorrow within him lifting, almost like it was a heavy blanket that was placed over him. His pale arm ran along his nose and he sniffled, his eyes remaining fixed on the light. He sat like this for a couple of chimes, occasionally wiping his nose again. But eventually the light dimmed back into nothing, his palm as bare as ever.

Letting his hand fall to his side, Gale looking at the ground, taking in a few deep breaths, slightly shaking his head. Ever so slightly.

Eventually. Eventually they were all going to die with no one there to save them. Eventually everyone who had ever met, everyone he had ever seen would be lying in their grave, pleaing for anyone in the world to remember them only to see that the world was cruelly smiling down upon them. Eventually the world was going to fall, leaving those who managed to spit back at it and fight to drown in their own insanity. Eventually.

"Ricky got an illness." He pulled his hands onto his lap, looking up from the ground, now gazing off into the distance almost in remembrance. "He went off to Syliras to find a healer. He left Martin with me." He looked down as his hands, folding them together. "But I got a job." He managed a weary smile, looking up at her with red eyes. But he quickly looked back down. "At the Loveless." He wiped his nose again. "But Ricky and Telion are back now, as bright and cheerful as ever." He chuckled through his teary and clogged speech. "Oh yeah," his back straightened out slightly, as if to remember something great. "I tried to kill myself." He looked back at her again with another fatigued grin,"In the bay. But Priskil saved me." His eyes fell down to the ground one which she was standing. "She-uh- she gave me this." He lifted his hand, to gesture to the white mark on the back of his mutated hand. "I think that's about it..." His voice wavered again, looking back down at his lap and folding his hands together.

That's just about it. Just that.