Difference between revisions of "McDowell Family/Sorsha McDowell/Broken"

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(New page: '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell''' Sorsha pushed the tent flap aside and walked in. She picked up her gauntlets and helmet nearby, and tightened her hands around them. Through the years...)
 
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'''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
 
  
Sorsha pushed the tent flap aside and walked in. She picked up her gauntlets and helmet nearby, and tightened her hands around them.
 
 
Through the years, she had grown accustomed to the usual sounds of the soldier’s camp but they never reached her.
 
 
She tiredly set the helmet aside and sunk into the ground. She looked down to the dirt in front of her and her long brown braid slipped over her shoulder. So much death surrounded her, so much pain and grief both old and new and she was having difficulty feeling any of it from the large swallowing darkness that had slowly started to grow within her.
 
 
Behind her, someone entered the tent and she didn’t move. She knew who it was by the slow and soft pressure of his step. He now insisted on following her everywhere she went, should she need him.
 
 
Lorlan walked around her, and kneeled before her, and lifted her chin with a hand, trying to look at her face. Her blue purplish eyes appeared empty and completely devoid of vitality and emotion. 
 
 
“My lady,” he said softly and she simply stared through him. “Are you alright?”
 
 
She blinked, but didn’t answer him. What was there to say? Would she ever be alright again?
 
 
Instead of answering his question, she quietly asked one of her own. “Any word of…?” she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name anymore. Lorlan’s answer killed her a little bit more every time she heard it. Only there was always the chance that this time would be different.
 
 
Lorlan looked at her with compassion and after a long moment he sighed and sadly shook his head. “No…I know it is difficult my lady, but…” he lowered his eyes, not really knowing what to tell her to ease her pain, but she had already stopped listening to him and continued to stare out with a blank expression.
 
 
“Could I get you anything?” he offered but she had already returned to her trance.
 
 
“Sorsha?” he said her name, hoping to get a reaction and she blinked again but that’s all she gave him. She was so tired... She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep eternally. 
 
 
Sighing, he left her and walked out. When he did one of her men, Thomas, stood before him. “How is she?” he asked and Lorlan sighed.
 
 
“We’re losing her aren’t we?” Thomas asked simply and Lorlan didn’t answer him. “What can we do?” he asked, hoping he would be able to do something.
 
 
“She needs a reason to stay,” Lorlan told him and his eyes filled with tears. Having lived his life as a servant and not being hardened with battles, and also truly caring for his lady as if she was his own daughter he was not ashamed of his emotions. “She has gone, where I can not help her,” he said with a choked voice, “and I don’t know who could,” he whispered and walked away.
 
 
A few moments later, Sorsha walked out of her tent and slipped her helmet on. “Get the men ready.”
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
Sorsha flexed her right hand and hissed. She slowly slipped off her gauntlet and tested each finger. Her hand wasn’t broken but extremely tender whenever pressure was applied.
 
 
She thought of undoing her long braid but she had too much difficulty moving her hand and decided to leave it as it was.
 
 
She walked around the table and sat in her chair. Papers were set before her and she quietly glanced through them.
 
 
Announcements of Princess Selena’s birthday had reached her, and she pondered writing back to the king to inform him she would not be attending but she changed her mind. Being a princess the small child would most likely never truly know genuine affection but her parent’s. She would receive what was deserved of her station. It was with that thought she decided to make an effort to attend.
 
 
Tired of the same reports she threw them back on the table and moved back into her chair, she had just woken but she was still so tired. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and blocked every other sound.
 
 
“I told you, you would weep…” a soft voice filled the room and she quickly opened her eyes. Kaylan stood before her, beautiful as ever and alive.
 
 
It was a moment before she could regain moisture in her mouth and she rose from her chair. “What?” she whispered with shock.
 
 
“Do you remember when you first came here?” Kaylan walked around the room and glanced around nonchalantly. “I told you to beware the deception… but you didn’t listen…” she gave a mirthless laugh. “Did you?”
 
 
Sorsha walked around the desk, but wearily kept her distance. “I did…” she defended in a small voice.
 
 
Her cousin’s blue eyes were cold and her voice grew malignant. “You’re dangerously close to becoming me you know…” she raised her hands and turned them out so that Sorsha could see the deep gashes along each forearm.
 
 
“No…” she turned away from the image before her. “I would never…” Sorsha breathed. “I’m stronger than that…” but a part of her wasn’t so sure and fear filled her.
 
 
At that her redheaded cousin laughed. “You think so? But…ahhh so was I…Don’t think you’re above it,” she laughed again and shouted, “look real hard!” She approached her and grabbed Sorsha’s chin and made her look at her wrist.
 
 
“This is what happens when you fall in love…you give and it eats and devours at you and takes everything you have until you have nothing left. Then you’ll be grasping and grasping and you’ll do anything just to feel something other than the pain …You know I’m right!”
 
 
“NO!” Sorsha cried out. 
 
 
Kaylan sneered and narrowed her eyes. “Face it,” she pushed her, “you’re, just, like, me!” she screamed and blood began to seep through the cuts and Sorsha withdrew with a gasp.
 
 
She jumped into her chair and looked around the room inhaling deeply, trying to find oxygen again. Kaylan was gone, she was alone again. She licked her dry lips and tried to chase away the images. She buried her face in her hands and hissed at the pain she caused herself and quickly withdrew.
 
 
“It’s just a nightmare,” she whispered to herself. None of it was real… she tried to rationalize, but again she wasn’t so sure.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
Thomas entered Sorsha’s tent and saluted. She looked the same as she had the last couple of days. Hair braided, sitting over one shoulder. Still wearing her black armor, he figured she had only removed it to sleep, even then it was unlikely. She appeared as if she hadn’t slept in days, her face seemed chiselled out of stone. He had on occasion seen her appear graceful, delicate, but now she just seemed frightening.
 
 
“Everything has been taken care of,” he informed her. Looking up from where she sat, she gave a small nod and returned to the letters in front of her. “I will be out shortly.”
 
 
He noticed a small container before her, filled with ashes, and frowned. “My lady, shouldn’t we wait until dawn to leave?” he asked her nervously and cleared his throat.
 
 
One of her brows rose and she cocked her head. “You can stay here if you’d like, but I’m leaving.” All she wanted was to go home to Nebel, and sleep.
 
 
“Well uhm, no… I simply meant…” he stammered and she crossed her arms, leaning back. None of her softness was apparent, no smiles reached her lips, no warmth, everything about her was distant and cold.
 
 
“I’m…” he looked over his shoulder and motioned with his hand, “<i>we’re</i> concerned for you.”
 
 
“Touching,” she said simply, but again what would have usually been gentleness on her part and gratitude was bitter and tantamount to sarcasm.
 
 
He didn’t know what else to say and uncomfortably stood. Instead of saying anything else, he saluted again and left.
 
 
She watched him leave and looked back to the remaining letters on her desk. She could probably recite each from memory. They were the letters she had kept with her no matter where she went.
 
 
She kissed her fingertip and traced the fine lettering of his name.  “I would have done anything for you,” she told the wind and brought the letter over the candle flame and watched it burn. When it was nothing but a small piece, it joined the rest of the ashes. She continued until there were no letters left.
 
 
Now, she guessed she was exactly where she had left Mathias. How ironically poetic… Just thinking of him and the last words shared between them brought her pain. This was a lesson she wished she’d never had to learn.
 

Revision as of 14:25, 17 December 2012