[P] [M] stay with me now when i'm falling
[A Tear in the Tapestry] | Jan 3rd

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: war, violence.

drown me when i reach for air

Rohan was not brave like his sister.

When the raids began, though he was more or less insulated from any direct damage, he felt nausea gnaw at him from deep within his gut, a foreboding sense that, somehow, he had been responsible. He thought about the woman that lured him from the borders, Silivren; he thought about the man that had coaxed him into talking about his mother and the King.


That was all Rohan could think about at the meeting when they spoke of the outsiders and passed around the medallion, the one that his mother had confiscated from him and begged and pleaded he told her about. He feared punishment; more than that, he feared the man, Ark, would make good on his threat if he ever spoke a word of their encounter.

"I will help you and your family," he had said, gripping the boy's muzzle between his rough, scarred hands, "but you can never speak of me to them. Not until we are ready."

He was to stupid to disagree. He was too drugged to know what was happening. And he was far too young to ever have been in that situation at all, his tongue loosened by spiked tea, mind poisoned with the vengeful rhetoric of the Old Caledonian Goddess.

Who was he supposed to tell? Who wouldn't be mad at him for staying quiet, just like he had been told? He didn't want his mother or father hurt. He didn't want anymore to be hurt.

And when the wave of fighters began to retreat, for a brief moment, Rohan had hope that maybe, just maybe, that would be the case, after all.

He slipped away from the Bastion to watch them scurry away like mice, dipping back into the darkness like the demons they were. It was just for a second, just to see it with his own eyes.

But soon, there was a loud crash, and Rohan discovered that they never intended to pull back at all. The nightmare was not over.

The Square erupted in a cacophony of noise: tiny blips in the sky grew larger and larger before they tore through buildings, huge boulders ripping houses apart in an explosion of stone, splintering wood and debris. Bloodcurdling shrieks as Caledonians scampered out of the crossfire. Fire crackling as it leapt through the air, scattering across the dirt before snuffing out.

Rohan hadn't realized he, too, was screaming, ducking behind a still-standing building for cover. He felt hot all over, the blood pounding in his ears as he curled up in a little ball and hid his face beneath his paws — chest heaving with each short, labored breath as panic overtook him.

What was happening? Why were there rocks raining down from the sky?

Was this his fault for listening to him? To Ark?

"Retreat! Retreat to the Bastion!" someone yelled. All around him he could hear footsteps chewing into the mud and slushy snow as Caledonians fled for the safety of the Fort. The Page tried to move but found himself frozen, his bones unwilling to listen to his brain. When he forced himself to stand, another boulder sailed past, narrowly missing him.

His legs giving out, the boy collapsed again, giving a desperate cry,

"Mom! Dad! Someone help me!"

But when he looked up again, bright indigo eyes blurry with tears, it was neither of them that he saw.

Haloed by billowing smoke and fading torchlight was his savior, the woman with silky black hair and beautiful blue eyes.



OOC: --|| WC: --


Like the drums of war – she felt her heart pound again, fresh and new and driven by righteous fear. The acolyte was driven from the Bastion with seismic purpose as the stones started falling from the sky, striking with horrid precision.

This was unlike before. It felt like the heavens were collapsing – there was a roar of sound, the eruption of rock and stone, shrieks from unexpecting denizens of this hapless, heathen realm. It was her time of reckoning. There was little she could save here – but then she saw him.

Rohan, his legs crumpled beneath him, a little paper crane amidst the rubble and the carnage. Within a moment, and the few spans of her footfalls, she was upon him, and he looked up with eyes like amethyst stars, her dark hands reaching forward to sooth over his tear-streaked face. She hushed him with soothing tones, shh – This world was a ruin.

But he had not known this. Not yet. And her heart sang for him, aching and pained as she stooped down to gather the boy into her willowy arms. She could save him, spare him this world’s truths; not like Silivren had, nor even Ark.

”Hush now, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Éna had crooned, her cheek falling against Rohan’s soft head. Another boulder crashed nearby them, and her heart lurched as she hoisted the boy into her grasp, and sought her escape through the holes that had cracked, New Caledonia leaking out like a yolk through the shell. ”I’ll protect you, do not worry, everything will be fine-“

I am not bound by where I'm from, I'm not awake I am not sleeping
as I walk along the in-between of everything come and gone
drown me when i reach for air

"L-Lady Éna?" he stammered, eyes flittering this way and that when she fell upon him in a dark fog, her pretty hair curtaining him from the horrors of war.

"What's going on?!" he asked, in vain. All around them the world threatened to tear itself apart at the seams, boulders ripping through the  carefully-woven tapestry of their Realm and leaving frayed fabric in their wake.

He felt slack in her arms, allowing his slight frame to be moved by her hand. She would protect him. It would be fine.

Fine? This was not fine. This was far from fine.

Still, the boy allowed himself to take solace in knowing that he wasn't alone, that maybe he wouldn't die out here. Each time one of the rocks fell, he cringed, a violent shake racking through his body as smoke pillowed and casted a silvery sheen in the sky.

At first he did not realize it, blindly following her in the blur of the night. But when the shrillness of screams grew softer, the Heartsong felt a different panic surge through him.

"Wait," they ducked behind the crumbling walls of the Fort, a façade that provided them no protection against the enemy's bombardment. "Wait, L-Lady Éna, the — the Bastion is back that way."

He threw a furtive look over his shoulder, confused, afraid.

"The Bastion is — Where are we going?"

Why were they heading towards the source? Why were they running away?

But when he tried to wrench out of her hold, the Lorn woman's grip was iron-clad and unyielding, juxtaposing the softness in her eyes.

"Where's my Mom and Dad?" he asked quietly, barely saying it at all.


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