One slow step at a time, her bare feet carried her over the cobblestone roads that lead through Antonica. As she took each step, she questioned the sanity in running away from him, of forcing him to either correct his mistake or lose his chance to forever…but she continued walking, knowing that it was what she had to do.
Well, wherever you are know I'll always love you…
Goodbye, Tarack…you will find me if you ever chose to. I love you, Tarack, but I’m leaving…
He had stood, staring at the door for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for it to open; his mind was numb from her words, still turning over the idea that she was going to Freeport as he watched the doorway.
I love you, Tarack…
Slowly, he had fallen to his knees as he wrapped his arms about his body; his tears had fallen onto his crisp white robes and marred their perfect colour. The truth of those words had always been clear to him, and they had again cut him to the core. They tumbled over in his mind, dancing about the other things that had been said, standing out as if to call to his heart.
I love…
My hands grow cold and turn to gray, like twisted arms, reaching out but feeling nothing.
When she had past the large stone just outside the Willow Wood Exchange office, she had paused as her memories of meeting Tarack flooded through her mind. Slowly, she had reached out a hand to caress the gray rock, unaware that her body had entered a state of shock; she knew her hand was passing over the stone, but barely registered their rough reply.
Once she had reached Coldwind Point, and made a backpack like carrier for her pet cat to ride in, Rhana again touched stone that had held memories. Here she had brought Tarack after a rough attempt to assist Betula; here is where she read his palm to him, and where they had first kissed.
Impulsively, she pulled her basic rune crafting tools from her pack and quickly engraved their names in the stones. Even if she never returned to them, a part of them would remain carved into their only witness of that day.
These times will pass and all that remains will be our love and a shadow of all pain that we endured.
It was a gamble, but she hoped that through whatever trials and hardship they went through now, they would be able to weather the storm and make it to the other side together. It would all be worth it if they could look back, together, and see through the fog of the bad times and know they’d made it.
She didn’t know if he’d ever understand why she was doing what she was doing, but it was something she had to chance.
Old fears will die and fall at our feet. And the light will survive through the waters of the storm.
They had been torn apart by fear.
She had feared loosing him, for a time only being able to accept that he would die before her by deciding to end her own life when that finally happened. Though she had overcome that irrational belief, she still feared loosing him and the beautiful world she’d found through him.
He feared leaving her alone once he died, destroying her life through his death, and he feared having her blood on his hands. But most of all, he feared being happy; she didn’t understand why, but from his actions and his words, she decided that ultimately, he feared being loved and living a happy life.
They must both overcome their fears, or they would be lost not only to each other, but also to themselves.
And so, to overcome her fear of loosing him forever, Rhana had left Qeynos for the one place she knew he wouldn’t want to go. She made herself give him up, made herself loose him, and forced herself to move past it…one slow step at a time.
I can watch your eyes, I can reach to the skies.
She had refused to look at him as she left. He’d held her gaze as best he could until she turned away from him, staring intently at the feline in her arms. Either she was hiding her own tears, or she had been afraid that seeing the emotion in his eyes would wash away her conviction.
For quite some time, he kneeled on the floor crying, eventually turning to look past the table and the alter; his eyes searched the skies as his heart prayed to Tunare that she would turn around and stop her madness, that she’d come back to the little apartment once more.
As the hours began to slip away, his prayers had turned from asking for her change of heart to fervent prayers of safety as she traveled.
Times will change around us, so let them change around us.
Though she had hoped to somehow recreate what they had shared during their relationship, eventually she began to flow with the changing winds. If fate felt that they needed to experience these things, then she must let them be experienced – life within the city had changed her, created a pattern that she had become bound to rather than a life spent moving upon the wind.
Remaining in the past…she’d seen where that was leading Tarack, and hoped that by moving with the changing winds, both of them might escape their pasts.
And now you've gone so far away. Is this real? Or is it just a phantom of time?
Hours passed.
Tarack had remained within the apartment, at first unable to move from something akin to shock. His prayers to the Mother helped to return his mind from the numb place it had journeyed, and finally he lifted himself up and began to look around the apartment.
She’d taken little, but it was still enough to make the room feel empty – at least that is what he believed made it feel empty.
It’s just an apartment, Tarack. It stopped being home the first time you left…
One of her easels was missing, along with one of her better paintings of the sea cliffs in the Thundering Steppes. She’d taken almost all of her paints as well, leaving only mostly used palettes behind.
He passed where her lute and drum had been, pausing to look down at the empty space. She’d always played her lute for him after he had moved in with her, sharing songs that were meant only for a crowd of one. Slowly he realized that he might not ever hear her beautiful gypsy music again, the surreal nature of his surroundings beginning to fade.
Turning, he had found that she had taken a number of the meditation candles from their makeshift alter on the bay window. Again tears had begun to fall as he stared out the window, watching the sea beyond the walls of Qeynos; images of the first few lessons in meditation he’d given her flooding his mind.
She had been wearing the makeshift training outfit of white, gold and green they had put together for her when she had left…
I walk alone, your eyes in my mind; a flame of hope until I wander back to your arms.
After a brief rest at the mender’s inn out past the towers in Antonica, she continued her journey towards Freeport. The road was deserted, and Rhana slowly walked down the trail alone.
She’d wanted to look into his eyes one last time before leaving, but she knew that her conviction would melt away if she did. Instead, she remember staring into his eyes the night he had told her that he loved her, seeing their light and praying it would guide him back to her.
I can watch your eyes, I can reach to the skies…
In the twilight hours, he finally tore himself from the memories of the apartment and its missing owner and slowly made his way out to Coldwind Point. The ocean sometimes had a calming effect on his mind, but it would not today.
Instinctively, he had followed the base of the cliffs around to the rocks Rhana had taken him to the day she had promised him adventure, when she had been convinced he couldn’t enjoy himself. Memories had begun to flood through his mind as he crested the rock that over looked their spot, only to be washed away by what he saw there now.
Carved delicately into the rock where they had shared a palm reading and their inner most thoughts was something he’d never seen before.
Their names, together, their tails and towers interlocking, binding the names together.
Again he had slowly dropped to his knees, eyes filling with tears as a hand carefully traced the engraved lines; his palm slipped over their names before he felt a sharp pain and pulled it back, turning it over in a motion that had become natural to him – the blood from the small cut slipped down his hand, and for quite some time, he stared at his palm, remembering her touch and words as she read his soul there.
The blood filled the line she’d told him spoke of love.
Falling from his knees, he sat beside the carving, one hand resting gently over it as he stared at the blooded line and continued to cry. He raised his eyes from his palm to search the skies again, fervently praying to Tunare for Rhana’s safe return.
I'm leaving...
Nektulos lay behind her now, her hand resting on the gate to the Commonlands and her brother’s home. She was far from the life she knew within Qeynos, but she hoped she was closer to finding the life she longed for.
Turning, she looked over the dark forest, remembering Tarack’s tales of his life within the forest after he’d escaped, but before he’d found Promise.
Pausing, she took a step forward.
And then another.
By midday she had made herself a small camp past the Behemoth Pond, and by nightfall she’d wandered through most of Nektulos Forest…by the end of the week, she would make it a new home.
[OOC Notes: Bolded text are lyrics from Leaving by Agnes Poetry - a band that produced their stuff out of Salt Lake City, UT from 1994 to 2001. To hear this song, visit Agnes Poetry's Music Vault.]
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