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[P] Dont Know Who I am, At All. - Printable Version

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Dont Know Who I am, At All. - Luvena - 02-07-2021

Summer’s lively breeze had bled into autumn’s quiet chill. Leaves had changed from green, to a myriad of reds and oranges, all bleeding into one another in a splendor of color. Certain market stalls had closed up, as summer vendors moved back out of the court to their families and children. The sky darkened earliers, and days shortened into quieter nights, giving the night court the peace it desired. 

Luvena had missed all of it, tucked away in her single roomed home, the curtains drawn tightly, the door latched, except to let the girls out a few times a day to romp and hunt. Not a single flame bled light into the room. It had been three days since she’d spilled sour words into the ear of a man who did not deserve them. Since she’d plucked a sprig of Rosemary and laid it at Caligos feet, a feeble offering from a feeble woman. 

A fact which she’d been starkly reminded of. Her stubbornness had always been her downfall. In Elysium when she’d decided she wanted nothing more than a child to call her own, in the Waste, when she’d decided to push herself training with Kodarki - Galileo, for hours under the hot sun. Here, when she’d decided to drag herself up Novus’ highest peak, taking neither Picoro nor the ever growing Leonbergers. She had convinced herself she could make it without consequence. And as always she had been wrong. 

She laid there for days, sleeping fitfully through the smoky haze that clouded her dreams. Waking only long enough to change the dressing on her legs, covered in scrapes, from falling near the bottom of the mountain, and catching herself on both knees, where she’d stayed trembling for a few minutes, before rising. 

She’d turned away numerous patients directing them to other medics in the city. Polar North could handle those looking for a quick fix of pain management - she’d seen to teaching the girl that herself- and Gareth could handle the rest, out at Vitreus lake. She’d seen to only one. A man from the barracks who had shown up with a nasty gash down his shoulder, sword practice gone wrong. She’d quickly stitched him up with the last of her sinew, and sent him on his way, with a note, scrawled in messy lettering explaining her treatment, so that the next medic he saw could treat him accordingly. And then she’d gone back to her bed of moss, tucking her head back into her side. 

Picoro urged her to go see another medic, or at least to get up and eat something. But she refused. It was not just fever that plagued her, and that much she could handle on her own, here with an endless store of herbs. But anger, and bitterness, things she’d tried to leave up there, with the man and the statues, but instead had curled its unforgiving fingers around her. Still, regret cut it’s way through them. 

Never had she lost her temper so at someone. Had she chided them with such a cold tongue. Never had she raised her voice so loudly over the howling winds, shouting, so that even those who did not care for her would listen. She had shed no tears when she returned that night, even though Picoro could feel them burning inside her. Instead she’d swallowed them down, storing them deep inside, not wanting to face everything she’d seen up there. 

It was a sharp knock that startled her from her slumber on the third afternoon. She raised her head slowly, just about to tell them to go away, when she heard a familiar voice call hesitantly through the wood. “Lu?” Picoro roused himself from the quick nap he had taken (though he would never admit it, he had lost much sleep over the past few days, fretting over his companion).  

She shut her eyes for a moment, knowing she could not turn away the Solterran soldier. Even though the girls were out, and wouldn’t give her away, she knew if she did - turn him away that was - she would regret it immediately. Quietly she drew herself to her feet, trembling. She pulled back the curtains, squinting as light filled the room for the first time in days. As quietly as she could she pulled a jar off the shelf, plucking a few leaves of dried feverfew, and swallowing them quickly, hoping to quell the fever that had been running its course since she’d stumbled down the peak. 

It was not a matter of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Galileo knew her. But the only other time he’d seen her this way she’d almost slipped away. And the last thing she wanted, was to see worry in the old man’s eyes. She checked the bandages on her legs, making sure they hid the healing wounds underneath, and crept her way to the door. Doing her best to still the heavy shake of her body to its normal frail tremble. 

She pulled open the door, clearing her throat as silently as she could, tilting her head up to look at the general. “Ko-” she stopped herself “Galileo” she smiled with her greeting, hoping he’d look past the the glassy film over her eyes. He seemed happier then usual, and she wanted nothing more then to keep that present, hoping it would fill the silence that roared inside her.  She stepped aside, pulling the door wide open. "Come in"

@Galileo


RE: Dont Know Who I am, At All. - Galileo - 05-15-2021

He went to find her.

Not because he needed her kind heart, nor because he needed her sage advice. Not even because he brought good news to her door (his own news, for once). He came because something itched at him, prodded at his side, aggressively trying to reroute him towards the mare. It was an inherent feeling, a knowing that he was required somewhere, and there was only one horse that he felt close enough to that the whispers on the wind were the thing that guided him to them -- Luvena.

His hooves guided the way, the steady drumming on the cobblestones of Denocte matching the gentle bop of his head. Mind resting easy, other than the goal as to keep going forward to find his friend, Galileo glided through the city. It was as though he was following an invisible thread, leading him to what felt like home. But then, Luvena had always had that warmth about her... that feeling that when you were close to her, she would care for your body and soul.

As the streets got narrower, he found his large hulk of a body struggling more and more to fit through the passageways. He stopped under a doorway and let a merchant pass by, dipping his antlers so he could fit. Denocte was a blissful kind of quiet, where the only noises were those going about their evening business. Occasionally, he walked past windows that had laughter oozing out of them, no doubt fuelled by good food and ale.

The feeling that he should keep going came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of a stone staircase, which led to a long covered passageway with a door at the very end. It was dimly lit by the glow of the moon, but he picked his way along steadily. This had to be it. With a knock, he waited patiently, until a movement at the window to the side of him alerted him to a presence.

[say]"It's only me, Luvena."[/say] He spoke gently, so as not to scare her -- she seemed particularly timid tonight.

As she let him in, he had a quick glance around her home. It was dark and cold, and did not feel like Luvena at all. It took him only another second to notice her bandages, and the look behind her eyes gave way to a darker emotion. His words turned abrupt and protective. [say]"What happened?"[/say] He asked, almost aggressively, though it was aimed at towards whoever hurt her as opposed to the mare herself. [say]"Tell me what I can do."[/say]


RE: Dont Know Who I am, At All. - Luvena - 05-15-2021

[say]“I know. Your hooves fall loud enough on cobblestones to hear a mile away”[/say] Luvena tried to push the words out with a laugh. Trying to fill the empty space that lingered around the quarters. To hide the rasp that lingered behind her words.  It didn’t last though, he was quick to question her.

She should have known he would see right through her. He almost always did, no matter the situation. Even when he had been training her, he was always the one who knew she was at her limit before she herself did. He always seemed to turn up at the right time. Just when the world was falling apart, Galileo Kodarki was there holding it up with those outrageous antlers of his. 

It wasn’t that she resented him for it, quite the opposite. She only wished she seemed to be able to turn up at the right time for him as well. She used to be able to do that, turn up at the right moment. Lately though the reverse seemed true.The winds seemed to sour where she walked, calamity waltzing behind her.  Perhaps Vega’s gift had only brought with it this penalty, this weight upon her shoulders.

‘Nothing’ she thought about replying. ‘Mithra knocked me over that’s all. You worry too much’. But she had never been able to lie to kodarki, and even if she could, he seemed to be able to hear through lies as easily as breathing. Or perhaps Luvena was just a bad liar. Her mother had always told her so at least.

She followed his gaze briefly to the bandages around her legs. Picoro seemed almost relieved by the commanding tone in the soldier's voice. There were few people Luvena listened to, and the past few days, the sloth was not one of them.  [say]“It’s not for you to worry about”[/say] Luvena finally murmured, still waiting for the feverfew to do its job. [say]“I did something foolish. You’d be furious with me if I told you.” [/say]normally her words would have been spirited. Now they fell flat. 

She truly believed it. She had known better than to go off climbing peaks on her own. She had known better than to run her mouth like some silly yearling who had lost at a game. He probably would have told her so beforehand. She didn’t dare to reach out to touch him as a reassurance. He’d only feel the warmth under her skin and worry more.  

She did however venture to meet his gaze again. [say]“Why are you here? You seemed like you had something to say.” [/say]she was dancing around the matter at hand and she was sure they both knew it. She could practically feel Picoros eyes rolling.

@Galileo