He shuddered as his vision refocused, slowly dialing back into focus like a camera that's been off for too long. The viscous glow of the ooze from his eye faded, leaving the tiefling in such a rush that he felt drained. He fought to remain standing, processing the immense weight on his arms.

Then he realised, he was covered in blood.

A lot of it.

And the weight on his arms, his heart nearly stopped when he recognised the furred face, the green eyes staring at him wide in shock. Her breaths were shallow, and as his eyes dragged down, he saw it. He saw his mistake, letting go of himself and attempting to commune with other beings. He never thought he'd be controlled by one such as a goddess and yet, he could see his stygian dagger buried in her heart. He could see his hand, soaked red in her blood, with a death grip on the hilt.

His voice was a trembled exhale, colour feeling like it leeched from everywhere except the red of her blood. Her blood on /his/ hands. "Iona…?"

He could feel her heart straining to beat, weakening against the blade. His mind filled with static and the back of his throat burned, and he'd rip his glossy eyes from his hand, his /hand/ and look up to her eyes again. She looked afraid, though her pupils were blown. Losing sight of what was happening, losing focus on her once beloveds face whose brows crinkled, whose eyes welled with tears and whose lips trembled. She went to take a breath, to speak, but she could feel herself starting to sag against him. Twisting the dagger deeper. It was less of a word and more of a pained simper, "Dama - Damako - s,"

"IonaIonaNoNoNoNo—" It was her voice that broke him, hand releasing the damned blade and curling his arms around her, supporting her weight as he lowered her, both because his legs were giving out and because it might, /might/ prolong her life a little. Part of his mind wanted to press for a spell, something, anything to help this. But he knew. Deep down, he knew this was it for her, for his firbolg. His kindhearted artist. His tears were heavy, hot, and he'd rested his blood-soaked hand on the side of her face. She felt cold. "Iona - hic - Iona I'm so – I'msosorryIonaIdon'tknowwhathappened–"

It was a blur honestly, not something he expected, but in an instant her hand had reached up and ripped him down by the collar of his coat. Behind her green eyes was nothing but venom, and he could only feel his tears fall faster. There was nothing but /hate./ Her voice was weak, but sharp. Deadly. "You can't - lie your way out - of this, Damakos -" Her breaths were shallow but defiant. "You're a - mess, and you - unstable - little thing how'd I ever let myself think you were WORTH LOVING —" There was a pained growl, and before he could understand why, he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach. He'd gasped, recoiled as best he could, though still gentle in getting her off of his lap. His own dagger buried in his leg, the stygian iron biting like ice.

Even as he'd pressed his hand around the wound, he was more worried on her fading breaths. His ears fell back and he'd choked out a sob, even as he'd pulled it out and threw it as far as he could, "M'not lyin' I just wanted — hic – I just wanted to talk to your goddess n' tRY to understand better —"

The faintest laugh was all she could muster then, eyes rolling back into her head slowly, "Then you're just - an idiot with a cluttered mind - Damakos, don't… don't forget… me, okay?" The poison in her voice was gone, tired. Weary. A wisp at most, but he'd scooted closer with his hand over his injury, stemming the flow for now with nothing but willpower. His entire body trembled, but she forced her eyes open to look at him one more time. He no longer trusted his voice, only nodded. His heart was too forgiving to hold this against her. He nodded, swiping at his eyes, and she pushed her hand into his unoccupied one to give it as tight of a squeeze as she could. "Thank you – thank…"

He choked as he felt her arm go deadweight, tears blinding him briefly before he'd just lower himself to rest his head next to hers, brushing her eyes closed. He felt like all of his energy left with her, with whatever had controlled him. He would bury her. He would take care of his injuries in due time. With what strength he could muster, he'd called out to local animals and asked that they offered protection, that they find Hiraeth, find his siblings and dad, and let them know he would not be home for a while, that he was hurt but alive.

And then everything went black once more.

Reply · Report Post