Not For Anyone, But Yourself

Not For Anyone, But Yourself.

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A full head of horns must adorn their mistakes made.
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Eerie. The moon casts its light onto a familiar, crimson-marred Silven. Llewyn's breathing was labored, coming in wheezes, as he tightly grasped the railing of a balcony of the Bralona's campsite. His lips purse, and unpurse, before a ragged, foggy exhale parts from him. His visage cranes upwards, viewing the star-littered sky as if it was a former, lost love - And that was such, as his infernal sights settle onto the moon. Though, instead of relief - A familiar fury quickly washes over the demi-fiend.

He glances away, surveying the encampment for any stragglers who might have tailed his frenzied sprinting. As he flits his sights about - He comes face to face with a misty figure. It wasn't his lost love, it wasn't anyone he adored, anyone he sought companionship with - No, it was something utterly despicable, one whom he despised.

It was him, about a year ago: Oma. They stood at five feet & two inches, and had a much, much rounder visage, still marred by the same red. They didn't speak for a long moment, and Llewyn simply gawks. Oma then murmurs, tone soft, tone cheery -

As if it was mocking Llewyn.

".. Nobody came for you, right? 'xcept for like, two people? Must be a sorry sight, hah! Y'know, back then, I chose this life, it was my choice, my everything. I think y'should choose 'gain!" They gestured towards the sky, towards the full moon. They were shrouded in a red mist, and Llewyn, oh Llewyn - They simply glared towards the figure, though a plume of smog exhales from his maw, glancing away with a new familiar & venomous stare, one that could pierce hearts and strike a pang of cold fear into the hearts of Cahal--

The Kathar's teeth gnash together, and the misty figure continues. "If no one comes for you, if no one wants t'put in the effort 'sides two people, then are you really worth it to them?" It was as though the misty Oma was speaking Llewyn's thoughts aloud.

"Brother, sibling, friend, lover, husband, wife -- It doesn't matter!" The mist-shrouded figure continues with a cheery grin, turning their back towards Llewyn and spreading their arms, a cackle parting from them. "They're all labels, all weights on your shoulders. Y'always get upset when folks don't put in the effort for you, but y'always, ALWAYS put in the effort for them!"

Llewyn's hand coils about the railing even tighter, his knuckles becoming paler.

"I think--" The shorter, depicted past self of Oma twists around to view the Vampire. "-- You should drop your connections to-- What was it, Rennyn said? Oh! Cattle." Oma shoots a grin over towards Llewyn. "Y'did everything for Kelemvor, y'did everything for everyone and everything but yourself. Gods, you even put your soul on the line, 'ow pathetic are you?"

Llewyn feels the sting of tears at the corner of his eyes. He remains quiet, keeping his gaze fixated ahead. All the while, a hushed voice whispers in the Obsessling's ear.

"I think it's time y'finally adapt. I think it's time you finally did things for yourself, Llewyn Omaberos. Choose yourself. Not him. Not anyone, but you."

And with that, the mist-veiled figure of Omaberos dissipates with a soft cackle, and Llewyn's eyes clenched shut. With a shaking hand, and an expression of resolve, he tears his necklace from his person. A portal to nothingness tears through reality, and he chucks it into the rift.

"I will." Was Llewyn's murmur of a reply.

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Oh, I chose this fate! Much too late to say I'm sorry.
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