Laayla

Aeruthuil follows the thin stream down the small hill before stopping finally at a sudden clearing amid the large forest. With a sigh he looks around, frowning before sudden footfalls reach his ear. With a slight turn of his head he glances over to where the sound had come from and smiles when Laayla steps out from the shadows.
He is soon met with the brightest smile he had ever seen before and he bows his head slightly.

As Geth slept, Aeruthuil sat still in the grass to watch over their makeshift camp. His hood pulled down to his eyes and the bottle clutched in his hands he listens to the animals roaming the area. His eyes opened, looking down at the rings around his fingers reflecting the light of the moon before lifting the bottle back up to his lips for a long sip of his drink. He then closes his eyes a little, letting his mind wander to one the few memories he remembers clearly.

I must admit that I have not written for a long time. Perhaps it was the foolish thought I no longer needed to, or that I have been afraid that someone would ever come to read this.

Aeruthuil runs through the woods, his panting loud in the midst of the night. With a sudden shudder he comes to a halt near a creek. Top of the hill there stood a tree, and a young woman with firy red hair.

The wisdom the Dalesman had shared with me played on my mind for days. I had left his house both disappointed with the fact he would not intervene and ask Taala to change her mind about letting me attend their post wedding celebration. I was also utterly disappointed with myself, even Eroforth seemed to detect that I was growing ever more attached to my childhood friend. We were not children any more, but men and women who had both seen our fair share of trials and tribulations, and I was becoming more and more moved by his.

Despite my best efforts, my disappointment at being excluded from Taala and Eroforth's wedding feast still occupied my thoughts. What had I done to deserve this? ah, she is a cold one that Taala, but her husband is not. I do not claim to know him well, but I liked him instantly the first time I met him, and this was what? Perhaps the third time I'd met him?

Left to the sands at such a young age as the Variag describes it, abandoned by her mother whom her master later bid her to murder in order to prove her worth and her loyalty. It is perhaps unsurprising that the dark skinned beauty I have come to know is so cold. Unfeeling. And yet sympathy stays my blade. I have for long enough in the past played judge, jury and executioner when the darkness took me. At first hunting down individuals myself. Then in the hiring of a murderer I thought I could control when my face had begun to be too well known to do so effectively.

It is two turns of the hour glass until dawn, and I have yet to find the sanctuary of sleep, peace from the endless questions that tap upon my skull. Questions, I doubt I shall ever glean the answers to. Why do I trouble myself with this? Why do I even care?  It is because I cannot help but care, he is my friend, he is tormented and troubled, convinced that he is cursed on account of dreadful deeds he has confessed he has done and in confessing them to me, I am now also burdened with them.

Aeruthuil stares in to the fire as he hears the faint sounds of voices, crying and groaning. He chews his lip as he tries to ignore it all although it would prove to be a harder task than he imagined. He closes his eyes in another desperate attempt to ignore what was going on and what had happened but within seconds he opens them again at the sound of Calardor's voice. He blinks as he looks around the camp with a grin before it faints..