Jaeyna Thillman awoke as her boat arrived at the docks at midnight, the stars slightly more covered by clouds than in the wilderness. Perhaps it was the larger amounts of torches and chimneys than simple trees. It didn't matter though. It was time to find her son in this Void of a City. She quietly clambered up from the storage area in the boat and slowly hopped down to the dock, moving on from the boat in silence, hood up, and cloak over her Warhammer. She didn't want anyone seeing that. She moved silently through the dimly lit streets, guards passing her by, but she hid behind the groups of citizens and people simply talking, getting by without a hitch. It's the way she liked it, keeping everyone out of the way to do her job, and keeping to herself. She slunk past the tavern, though her lips were dry from lack of water and her stomach grumbled from lack of food, and moved through the park coated in the darkness of the night. It was quiet, but for the sounds of animals and night birds echoing through the darkness, but she made her way through disputes this, spotting the light of houses and the entrance to the Slums in the distance, and the Hightower's guarding it. She didn't want to have her Warhammer seen, so she slunk to the side of one of the buildings, and watched, waiting to see if they would go after a while. When it didn't look like they were leaving she huffed, moving across the wall instead. Knowning the Slum Dwellers they would've made an opening to the outer world in the wall...so she would just have to find it.
She slowly moved around the edge, feeling against the wall for any sort of discreet way in. She found it indeed, finding a small, secretive hole in the wall, sliding through and heading to the place where her vision showed her. The place where her son was buried. She moved more freely in this almost lawless place, with no one even stopping at the sight of her warhammer, which felt good. She then stood in front of the ruins of the Citadel. It loomed over her, with a few more embers blowing past her. What had happened here? No...no she didn't care what happened here. She slid around the side, seeing a large amount of wall over the area where her son could be buried. She slowly moved up, heaving peice after peice away until the sun rose across the city...finding the risen ground. Just like in her dream. She hurriedly begin to dig it up with her hand, hoping...praying that it wasn't her her son. That it was someone else. That the vision was wrong. She dug as the sun turned orange and blue, and the great big sun loomed across the sky.
He lay there. At the bottom of the pit, as quiet as if he were asleep in a warm bed, but as pale as the times he had sick and she had to carry him to bed. Her hands trembled as they reached out for him, sliding down the hole and picking him up. She held him close...she shook him. It wasn't going to work. Nothing was going to bring him back...so she cried, corpse in her arms, old blood across her cloak, being brought back to a crimson from the moisture brought from her tears. She held him like she had done when she took him to bed, or she was carrying him back from a walk, like some attempt to wake up and be back in that position. She just lay there after that. Body next to her. Her tears continued to streaming down her face...she was really alone. All because of him...the man with the cane. Her eyes turned from sadness to bloody rage and hatred. She kissed her boy's head as she slowly moved the mud and dirt back onto him, slamming a broken board into the floor and carving "Aaron Thillman" into it with her dead husbands dagger. She sheathed it, sliding her hand down the wood, with her hand clenching into the fist. "Whoever you are Shendar...I am not going to stop until your dead. I am going to kill you the same way you killed my son...and it will be slow. I will break your bones until there are no more bones to break. I will slice your flesh until there is no more skin to cut. And I will jam this dagger into your stomach to finish it all. As you did to my little star. My everything is burned because of you...and for that you will die." She said, getting up and moving off, leaving her cloak aflame at the base of the grave...a sign of her peace dead, and a thirst for vengance growing, like the fire which engulfed her cloak.
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