A clearing of the throat, and due to usage of a spell, the charcoal slowly levitated -- Shaky hands sprawling out, and cerulean orbs admired a ring on their finger. Rain pelted the window, yet everything was quiet, too quiet, though the parchment was ready, and...
"… Right, is-- Is this fucking thing on? Oh-- Okay, it is…"
A surprised trailing off as the charcoal piece began to write, and a clearing of their throat once more, a shaky breath leaving them as the Altalar slowly embraced themselves, before they'd speak, a strained voice devoid of anything but grief.
"To Ayas,"
It began writing.
"I hate the fact I can't write to you anymore. At least --" A strained intake of breath. "You won't be able to read them. This is my last letter. No more little notes, no more talks, no more quiet embraces and no more hearing you out. No more listening, and the only pieces I have of you are the necklace I made out of string and your scales, and a beautiful ring you crafted yourself. We… We didn't-- Fuck-- " A few, quiet sobs left them as they'd cease their ramblings for the time being, desperately wishing that this wasn't true-- Managing to regain their composure, before speaking, and the charcoal penning it down. "We didn't even get to get married, like we wanted."
".. But…" They paused, gathering their thoughts, continuing to hold themselves as their bottom lip trembled... Before they'd softly utter. "You don't have to run anymore, okay? I take comfort in knowing that you can finally rest, but you didn't deserve to die like this, man. I'll tell you like I told Cal: I will celebrate your life. You & Rennyn are the best people that happened to me, and…" They'd finally give way, a dam breaking as their gradual, soft weeping grew into loud cries. "I'm so sorry, Ayas. I'm so, so sorry."
They'd continue to noisily bawl, sinking onto the floor as the once respected, demonic-pacted Kathar was, once again, reduced to nothing but wailing.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I wasn't there in your final moments, Ayas, oh Gods-- I'm so sorry."
They'd quiet down, before they'd speak in a hushed murmur; a whisper above all else. Yet, the charcoal continued to jot every word down, hanging into the air.
"I thought I could… I thought I could get some sleep, but I see now that I was wrong. I don't think I'll ever sleep again, even though you tried your damndest to get me to get some fucking rest, taking steps to ensure I didn't wake up screaming from nightmares, and you…" Another hiccup, and a quiet sob. "You cared, and… I'm so sorry. You have nothing but my deepest apologies, even though that won't bring you back from the dead. That won't change anything."
"I'll never forget you, I promise… I promise, I know I forget things a lot, and you hated that, and-- Gods damnit--" Another sob, then a whimper left the Altalar, their hands reaching to grab the makeshift necklace as they'd push themselves to speak. "I hope I never forget you. I don't want to forget your voice. I don't wanna forget your touch, I don't wanna do this anymore!" The raise of their voice surely disturbed neighbors, but they quickly fell into silence, before murmuring. "I'm so sorry. I failed you, Ayas, I failed you. I know you kept things from me, but--. But I'm not mad. I mean -- I was, but. How could I be mad now? I just want you back here, even if it's for a fleeting /second/ just so I can let you know that you're loved, and even will be in death."
A pause, and a lift of the hand sent the charcoal away -- Before... They found themselves levitating it back, and speaking once more.
"I wish you could read this," they'd murmur, a sniffle leaving them. "Just… I just want you to know I'll still love you, and I'll never stop loving you. Thank you, Ayas. Thank you. I'll try and visit your grave every day, just so I can ramble on about my days. Just like old times…" A soft, despair-filled chuckle emitting from the Altalar. "Just like old times. I know you'll be listening, and waiting for me."
"... I will celebrate your life, even if… Even if my heart is broken."
A sign of the letter, as the Altalar hushedly uttered a name foreign to them, before they'd rise from the floorboards, reaching for the charcoal themselves. They'd write the name most familiar to them, and cross the unfamiliar alias out.
"… Right, is-- Is this fucking thing on? Oh-- Okay, it is…"
A surprised trailing off as the charcoal piece began to write, and a clearing of their throat once more, a shaky breath leaving them as the Altalar slowly embraced themselves, before they'd speak, a strained voice devoid of anything but grief.
"To Ayas,"
It began writing.
"I hate the fact I can't write to you anymore. At least --" A strained intake of breath. "You won't be able to read them. This is my last letter. No more little notes, no more talks, no more quiet embraces and no more hearing you out. No more listening, and the only pieces I have of you are the necklace I made out of string and your scales, and a beautiful ring you crafted yourself. We… We didn't-- Fuck-- " A few, quiet sobs left them as they'd cease their ramblings for the time being, desperately wishing that this wasn't true-- Managing to regain their composure, before speaking, and the charcoal penning it down. "We didn't even get to get married, like we wanted."
".. But…" They paused, gathering their thoughts, continuing to hold themselves as their bottom lip trembled... Before they'd softly utter. "You don't have to run anymore, okay? I take comfort in knowing that you can finally rest, but you didn't deserve to die like this, man. I'll tell you like I told Cal: I will celebrate your life. You & Rennyn are the best people that happened to me, and…" They'd finally give way, a dam breaking as their gradual, soft weeping grew into loud cries. "I'm so sorry, Ayas. I'm so, so sorry."
They'd continue to noisily bawl, sinking onto the floor as the once respected, demonic-pacted Kathar was, once again, reduced to nothing but wailing.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I wasn't there in your final moments, Ayas, oh Gods-- I'm so sorry."
They'd quiet down, before they'd speak in a hushed murmur; a whisper above all else. Yet, the charcoal continued to jot every word down, hanging into the air.
"I thought I could… I thought I could get some sleep, but I see now that I was wrong. I don't think I'll ever sleep again, even though you tried your damndest to get me to get some fucking rest, taking steps to ensure I didn't wake up screaming from nightmares, and you…" Another hiccup, and a quiet sob. "You cared, and… I'm so sorry. You have nothing but my deepest apologies, even though that won't bring you back from the dead. That won't change anything."
"I'll never forget you, I promise… I promise, I know I forget things a lot, and you hated that, and-- Gods damnit--" Another sob, then a whimper left the Altalar, their hands reaching to grab the makeshift necklace as they'd push themselves to speak. "I hope I never forget you. I don't want to forget your voice. I don't wanna forget your touch, I don't wanna do this anymore!" The raise of their voice surely disturbed neighbors, but they quickly fell into silence, before murmuring. "I'm so sorry. I failed you, Ayas, I failed you. I know you kept things from me, but--. But I'm not mad. I mean -- I was, but. How could I be mad now? I just want you back here, even if it's for a fleeting /second/ just so I can let you know that you're loved, and even will be in death."
A pause, and a lift of the hand sent the charcoal away -- Before... They found themselves levitating it back, and speaking once more.
"I wish you could read this," they'd murmur, a sniffle leaving them. "Just… I just want you to know I'll still love you, and I'll never stop loving you. Thank you, Ayas. Thank you. I'll try and visit your grave every day, just so I can ramble on about my days. Just like old times…" A soft, despair-filled chuckle emitting from the Altalar. "Just like old times. I know you'll be listening, and waiting for me."
"... I will celebrate your life, even if… Even if my heart is broken."
A sign of the letter, as the Altalar hushedly uttered a name foreign to them, before they'd rise from the floorboards, reaching for the charcoal themselves. They'd write the name most familiar to them, and cross the unfamiliar alias out.
"Love,
Alora Omaberos"
