I heard voices rising and falling in the grove. Lovers doing what lovers did—for a brief moment I wanted to snap at them. Usher them away with gashing teeth…instead I laid aside. Closed eyes, blocked them out, slipped into unconsciousness as the world sped on without care or second thought as to whom lay with a heavy heart. I hadn’t expected to see Ktulu this night, (nor any night for that matter.) When the distant patter of feet drew closer, my mind rose from its half-awake state intuitively—one eye opening halfway to peer annoyingly into the misty darkness. It was then that Eytan’s shadowed silhouette lumbered through the dry undergrowth. His dark eyes on me from a distance, black nose scenting the air with strong purpose.

My attention spikes and both golden pools slip apart into a wide gaze. Steady heart skips a beat in my breast before quickening as she came through the trees. Healthy, alive. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t find words for many long moments. She didn’t know I’d awoken—my name trailed her lips as a question. Soft, mildly curious. Smoothly my feet curl themselves and carry this battle weary frame from the bed of moss and pine. Dark neck angles skull toward her, but that is as close as I bent to close the distance.

Bitterness, disappointment—those things keep me from drawing closer to her as I might have wanted. They keep me from falling aside at her feet, begging, longing. A hard lesson was being learnt, and she would forever be its teacher. It seemed that every time I dared to love, only pain and brief ecstasy was the reward. Ktulu had abandoned our daughter to her own demise, the Foothills and me. A child could survive without its mother, but the pain which would wrath later couldn’t be compromised—they would forever be changed, forever be burdened. Just as Cera was. Abandonment, for whatever reason—was still abandonment.

No smile of welcome curls my lips, instead in its place is a dismayed frown. This temptress would continue to hurt my heart even now, “Ktulu, Eytan…i-it is good see ye both is doing well,” there is an unmistakable coldness creeping into my tone—despite how softly they are uttered. Words that aren’t a lie, but neither the truth of a powerful storm which if building behind carefully placed orbs. I voiced what she been wondering, not caring about the silliness that this dark unicorn didn’t want an explanation from me, “I…came for the peace, this place has some old magic still in it,” and it was the only place where I could think of ye and wallow in that grief, I thought silently. “How has ye been?”

We did this to each other, and she was perfectly correct in thinking that I hadn’t been around…but neither had she been quick to share burdens when I was. Ktulu had always been a little distanced from me, perhaps not as much as most of the folks around her...but still evidently distant. This dark lady hadn’t ever proclaimed her love to our union, even after we had made a child. I’d lost hope that my mistress would ever come to care for me in ways that would sustain our bond; that realization was what stung more than anything even now. Anger swirling by this inner storm was really a cry for the attempts at our disappointed love. Her blood stained eyes would forever be an omen of lost affection. What good would it have been to leave my home in the beginning I wondered, in the end it likely wouldn’t have mattered—Paladin’s daughter would have left eventually. A gypsy heart couldn’t be quelled.

When she spoke it was with every ounce of coolness that she could muster. What had she expected during our reunion that would lead to a goodbye? Did Ktulu think me the fool to still be standing by with a heart full of patient love? Waiting around for her to appear out of the nearby thicket. “Days are long. Kri…vanished many a month ago. Leaving myself and Guacho to carry the weight of our homeland.”


The omission was spoken with plain tone, but beyond is a painfully heavy chain of weariness and the first glimpse at my lonely heart. Neither of which she appeared to care much about. Family saw me as a creature of tenderness and selfless affection. But there were other emotions that emerged from time to time. Fury, disappointment, terror. Except, very few offered their attention toward those matters. People loved to talk about themselves, and as such they often overlooked the needs of those suffering around them. “What made thee choose these wild lands over home?”

She had asked how I was, perhaps out of polite wondering instead of genuine interest—yet, Ktulu still remained totally impassive when my lips formed soft answer. Those blood stained orbs left me, unseeing and uncaring of the immense pain they inflicted absent physical wound. Each word to follow bit into my soul, a red gapping bite that would later leave me numb. My storm only intensified. Aye, we had both made our choices in this life—and as such, would follow their paths till the bitter end. She was going to leave, release all hope to the Southern wind.

“Goodbye,” I whispered as she turned away, striding into the mist. It hurt too much to follow her, to beg like a writhing fool burning in his personal pit of hell. Ask for forgiveness, try to keep our embers alive with gentle breath and careful intention. Nay. I had nothing left to give. What she saw was a mortal man, one with faults and sins—if my love couldn’t be enough, then perhaps it was right that Ktulu abandon all that we were. Sear the wound before it needed amputation.

My gaze rose, lingering on the spot she had been standing. Remembering for these next few moments of agony that never again would I feel her flesh against mine, hot and yearning. Surrendering in a passion that was beyond lust. Never would I see her smile, hesitantly as if the crease would damage her battle-hardened eyes should the light touch darkness. “Pray ye long days, and pleasant nights,”Ktulu had already vanished, likely beyond earshot. “I love ye still.” Words are breathed out, so quiet one might think they were whispered in a lovers ear.