Withering Spirit

[Nau'ren]

Nau'ren paced back in forth in her office. Rain pattered against the window, asking to walk in through the door and accompany her and her thoughts. Outside the window fog could be seen. Its refreshing smell was blowing in with the young wind, each stroak of the element bringing in more fog.

Mud sloshed around outside as soldier's picked their way through it. Not even glancing into the office, they continued their march, patroling the area. Nau'ren sighed deeply as if she were about to blow out candles. Everyone just ignored her now. Things have changed and will continue to change. Her mind could store hardly much more. Or was she just giving up?

Her years had brought so much. Wars, blood shed, losses, hate. But who was it really she hated? After all the battles she couldn't decide who she has been hating. Bringing herself upon this topic, Nau'ren took a seat and was crushed at her decision. It was her.

Hating comes from deep inside. She was hating herself, not anyone else. Everyone had their own personalities and their own thoughts. Nau'rens personality must not attract too many others. Everyone must be keeping their own presonalities to themselves and their own actions. But Nau'ren kept closer her prayers.

Who was she becoming? One for all to hate? What has she done to deserve this? Everyone passes her now as if they were looking at the mud that was sloshing against her office building. Nau'rens presence in the war maybe wasn't enough to intimidate the other lands. Or maybe it wasn't war that should take place for this world. Maybe all Nau'ren had to do was pick her way to peace and allies would find their way to her.

Nau'ren lowered her head and brought her hands to her face. Why hadn't she stopped to think first before taking actions? Nau'ren thought she had everything planned out, but after seeing the pirate's death and the escape of the other it felt as though she had done something wrong. Had she?

Her spirit withered and sank deeper into the pit of her stomach. A sick feeling thrived inside her and a sharp pain aroused, awakening from its deep sleep. She had woken it by her thoughts. The pain could not be assuaged and she knew it. It was lonliness. The Lady cupped her side in her hands now and closed her eyes. Who was she fooling running these lands?

[Arman Grey]

Arman, standing outside the office of the Supreme Lady knocked on the door. He waited for a while, pushing out the creases of his sleeves, keen to look his best for the Supreme Lady. When no answer came to his knocking, he tried again. Each knock seemed to echo in his mind. Nau'ren hadn't been the same since the Amethyst War, and Arman couldn't help but worry about her, not unlike the way a father would worry about his daughter, though it seemed odd sometimes, Arman thought that it suited. He wasn't answered again, and Arman raised an eyebrow above a deep blue eye.

Silently, he opened the door to find Nau'ren standing near the window, cupping her side, and her eyes were closed. Her face showed such melancholy sadness that Arman was moved by it.

Arman moved closer to Nau'ren hurriedly, his midnight blue attire flailing behind him as he did. He didn't adorn himself too much, but the clothing was higher than most. He stood beside Nau'ren and took her hand in his two own.

"Nau'ren!" He said worriedly, looking into her eyes. "What is wrong? Are you in pain?" His eyes looked down at her side, but he could see no physical wound there. Some wounds went far deeper.

[ooc: *bleh* sorry about short post]

[Nau'ren]

ooc: no problem. Mine might be rusty too.

Nau'ren was deaf to the world. She was oblivious to each echoing knock that broke through the door. She faintly heard the rain sound louder then it quieted. As it quieted the door shut. The Lady lifted her head as her hand was grabbed. The emptiness inside her lessoned a little but the pain continued.

Her eyes opened and stared endlessly into a pair of familiar deep blue eyes. She couldn't think of anything else but to hug him. It was informal from her high position but she didn't care. Her arms wrapped around her trusted friend, Arman.

Her voice wasn't one from a crying state or a hurt one, but it had broken down, closer to a whisper. "I feel a pain never before taken on," She said. Her eyes were snappped shut again. Her stomach still churned but the presence of another human warmed her soul a bit more. The rain once again faded from her senses. The tapping at the window left. The light roar of thunder and the rushing wind, all left.

[Arman Grey]

Arman was, for a moment, surprised at the sudden gesture from the Supreme Lady, his officer. But she had fallen on hard times, he knew, and everyone needed a helping hand at some point. Even the highest of ranks needed a little push in the right direction. Arman swore to himself that he would be there for Nau’ren, no matter what. Arman considered it even higher than the oath to the Navy, in any case the oath to the Navy was an oath to Nau’ren, and Arman would keep her safe. From the world outside and her own world within the confinements of her body and soul.

Arman put his arms around Nau’ren and returned the hug. Giving her a shoulder to lean on in this most difficult of times, and an ear to listen to what she had to say. He gave her shoulders a light, comforting pat, but it was the most he could think to do for her physically.

Her voice was low, and Arman heard so much emotion in it that he himself was moved by it. It wasn’t normal this high up in the chain of command to let emotion enter the work life. When people were this high, they were often succumbed to deeds best left swept under the rug, deeds that demanded a cold, detached, emotionless approach, lest it rot you away from the inside out, traumatising you for years to come. At the sound of her voice Arman knew that he would fight a thousand armies, overthrow empires, swim across entire oceans to keep this woman from suffering. This woman that seemed to fill the gap that had been left open for so long after his daughter was lost. Nau’ren was his daughter now, and Arman knew he would do anything to protect her.

”Nau’ren,” Arman said, lifting her head slightly so that they could look at each other while speaking. ”Tell me what it is. Tell me about this pain, and I will put an end to it.” Arman already had an idea what she was feeling though. She loved her realm, perhaps more than any Supreme Lord or Lady before her. But the more you love something, the more you feel its pain.

[Nau'ren]

Even though her eyes were still closed, she felt the deep blue eyes focus on her as her head was lifted, guided so easily away from his shoulder. Not wanting to ever look at the world again, she forced her eyelids to try and show she could toughen up. However, her goal could not be reached as so many years sucked the life out of her memories and last images. Of all the things that Nau'ren asked herself and herself only it was, Do I love my land?

Her own thoughts tore her up inside, leaving behind bruises that added to the pain. Physical pains can be assuaged and bandaged up, but some emotional ones could scar a simple soul for life. Nau'ren thinks herself as one who has avoided the truths of man-kind, the world, and life. All her life she's never asked the right questions that would further her along the insidious path.

As every leaf leaves the tree as autumn rolls in, are they to be buried forever in an endless snow from winter? Or will their decaying pieces be uncovered by the spring and blown away to become a part of the earth once again? Her whole life she's felt as one to be buried in the snow and never found again in the next season of life and time. Each hand ticks away, but no sighting of the correct beliefs.

What Nau'ren was being struck with, she could not put into words. His simple questions could only be answered with complicated answers, and that Nau'ren could not supply. Was it just her asking of the love to her land or was it more than that? The people who have fought over it, those who have suffered on it, lived on it and have been taught on it are all a nebulous image drifting past her eyes. Their very souls produce colors that could never have a name. The importance of each individual have been viewed by the oblivious Leader.

Another thought choked Nau'ren.

Lorian.

Is it fate that guides them through life or their choices? Had Lorian died because of anger or fate? If such a thing as fate never existed then Nau'ren would decide fully it was her fault. The end.

Another, Chase. Her fault? She believes it to be. Death has swept across the safe corners of the world faster than Nau'ren could have locked the door in front of Death's face. Death, to Nau'ren, wasn't something to fear but to accept. All the answers to life may be solved at the very moment one takes a last look at it. Was death accepted by such people as those she thought of now? Is it the moment of realization before death that Nau'ren will understand her faults? Will this fact convince her to bring death to herself faster than her path had drawn it out on her image? ... No... Suicide is never an answer.

The hideous face of suicide brought weight on Nau'ren's eyes. Focusing back on what was in front of her, Nau'ren blinked and looked back at the one who cared about her and her safety. No, a human doesn't carry the power to cure the wounds life and death leaves upon someone, or even the world. Wrong. If The Antidote is something one holds as an object worth crossing a universe for, then the answers can be written clearly. It's all up to that person if they bother learning the Antidote's unknown language.

Blue washed over Nau'ren as her blurry eyes accepted she wouldn't let tears run down her skin. Arman's eyes crippled her thoughts and brought new hopes to her mind. It wasn't his words, for a voice cannot be nearly as powerful as the showing of emotions and care. Inside, the weight in Nau'ren abated, however it's presence still loomed. The lady just blinked and opened her mouth to try to even begin at the starting point of her thoughts. The winding maze of her emotions would be hard to translate into their language. The language of words.

"I-," her voice began to quaver. Or had it been trembling already inside her it just wasn't revealed as a speech yet? Her lips sealed again, but she didn't give up. Her low whisper hardened as her voice strengthened a bit from her determination. Nau'ren straightened up and backed her face a little from Arman. "If only thoughts could be transfered into our language," she said slowly. The images that she had seen, and still does, could not be put into words nor could her voice inside. Was this man capable of understanding her intense thoughts? He was trusted to never speak about anything she said outside this room, but could he keep his own thoughts about her safely from himself? The ones she cared about most were the people like Arman and if he let his own mind snap like hers, then he might think differently about her, her actions, and her thoughts. There was no telling. No telling..