denial, denial is all that I’ve known, holding me hostage I’m never alone

Don’t fall, she said - like he was purposely wobbling about the woods on weakened legs. The magic that might have stabilized him is, again, gone. He is reminded of this with every passing second. He wanted to call upon it to help - to feel it’s presence coursing under his skin with a gentle warmth. Instead he is met with a bitter cold that seeps deep into his bones. With a huffed sigh he turned his head to glance upon her. Cut off. Booze. Hammered. If only this was some intoxicated nightmare that he could pass off as a bad drink come morning. But he was lucid enough and his head was beginning to clear.

“Not booze,” he grumbled. Once again he was reminded of a cruel twist of lips and that gentle, cooing voice that tempted him so. Her promises - that witch - had sounded good. He knew he had wanted to believe. Luthais expression darkened for a moment as he kept his focus upon standing upright. “Might have been mushrooms, actually,” there’s a bitter tug to his lips with this admission.

The small hut had been cozy, welcoming. By that point he had known the witch - why couldn’t he remember her name? - for weeks. Drawn together by a mutual connection with magic he had spent many nights theorizing with her, talking with her. But there was a haze over these memories that left him unable to recall any specifics. His brow furrowed as focused his attention back upon the mare with him now. “Or a bad run in with magic. I feel drained. And why does this forest feel so numb? Dead. Where am I?” the question finally slipped past his lips as he tried to keep the desperation off his face.

He’s grateful in that moment that he’s spent so much time learning how to wipe his emotions from his face. Liar, traitor, a spy. He could be none of those things if he could be read like an open book.

He remained completely oblivious to the company within the tree tops. Maybe, just maybe if his magic had still be with him he might have noticed. A gentle flow that coiled around and within every living creature. It was difficult to wrap his mind around the idea that he might not ever feel that connection again. Whatever this place was it was presenting him severed and bare to those within.

luthais,

art by vivaliis