Crumbling shield, Split sword
The evening would still be young as Eira was dragged from the rainy porch she had sent herself on, while waiting for her friend to either arrive, or open the door. As she was dragged in side she did nothing but weep like a small child. One eye completely red from broken blood vessels could be seen, and the once small bruise that had barely formed on her cheek was now a spreading deep, reddish purple. Nevertheless, she continued sobbing. Almost inconsolable even for her best friend, whom had been with her since some of her first days in Regalia.
Her mind felt weak, her soul shattered really. Her friend Virathus, whom she not only trusted and stayed by, but loved unconditionally, seemed to have little to no regard of her.
She was there when the man joined under Charles, whom she hated with a passion. Because she believed the man had a good heart, and that he would be the best decisions possible in the future. She stayed by his side, and weeped in his absence.
But now, how what she repaid?
After being brutally beaten by her close friend Katrina under the influence of Hengst and his wife Vivienne, she was left looking rather unsightly. But after two days, Virathus had made no real effort to find her and seek out the reason for her unsightly appearance and obvious bruising. Once he did spend time with her, it was around a group of guards all getting drunker than a Claith on Wednesday.
Even as she tried to speak to the man he was immediately whisked off for some other horribly mundane reason. She felt her mind slip as he did so. Breaking her glass of wine between her thin finger tips, and saying rather unusual things compared to her usual self. She lashed out, contemplating flipping over tables and crushing glasses, but she held it in. She held it in well. She had been hurting far too much over this.
She felt as if her best friend had abandoned her, left her, but for what? A greater good? What /is/ a greater good. She knew that if she ever saw Virathus in any harm, she would end the person as swiftly as possible. She would take them down with no mercy, and spend days seeking Virathus' forgiveness for not being their earlier.
Her friendship, which now felt one-sided and null, was crushing her. Most days she refused to leave her house, without coaxing from Katrina. She wouldn't eat without a maid forcing her to. She wouldn't drink until she was on the verge of passing out due to dehydration. The stress and frustration she felt had consumed her more than any other sorrow having been felt in her lifetime on earth. She would refuse to write back to her family, even after one of them came to Regalia in order to check on her wellbeing, she would not have him enter her room.
Never had she felt such pain at once.
Once Katrina had calmed her down she sat on the floor in a corner. Just staring for hours, until she made a trip to her home for the final time that week. Taking down a painting of her that was commissioned and given as a gift. Holding up up and staring at it. There were no more tears to cry, she felt almost emotionless, as if crying and starving herself had forced her to become numb.
She took the painting and hung it in the living room of her home, and looked into the distance. She felt very little sadness now. Much less happiness. What was crying going to bring her other than sickness? Nothing. Not pity, nor sympathy in any sense. The world wasn't going to stop spinning because she felt distress and pain. So she wasn't going to stop either. It was time to value revenge over justice, and get her way. No family, nor friends, would get in her way.
Mercy is a dull concept. Since her life was spared, she would make sure that they were not.
