On the Verge of Madness, On the Verge of Death

[Kaeldorn]

Yashia walked through the Valley of the Sunderer, the chasm that formed the path that connected Sundren with the mainland to the east. Cirion had sent for her to come. Alone. For that last part of the request it was likely already too late. Hours before her, Osclow had gone from the glade to seek out his friend. Yashia had been unsure if Cirion even wanted to see her again before this message was passed on to her by a complete stranger. To keep it safe in her own hands, she had refused to let Cirion hold on to the breath of a newborn contained in a specially made bottle, something he had asked her to do in the first place. It was the fourth ingredient of the Elixer of Life that they had only just managed to obtain thanks to Annie's empathic connection with the badger Mathilda, which was pregnant by chance.

Cirion had left with what seemed to be anger, as far as Yashia could tell from what little was left of his emotions. The way she found him just off the riverbank, knee deep in the water, was entirely different. Despair. Much like what had nearly gotten the better of him a few nights back, when he said he'd take his life to put an end to all this pain he was putting himself and the ones he cared about through. He now stood there with the tip of his sword aimed straight for his chest. The ex-paladin of Sune called her off, telling now that she shouldn't be here to see him do the deed.

Yashia could have paniced and burst out in tears if the same had happened a few months ago. Now, she did not. Not even when he slowly forced the blade a small distance inside him. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, but she kept relatively calm because she knew it was the only way.

"You are still a man.. not a monster," she spoke as she walked over to him.

He pushed the sword further, and the river started to run red with his blood. A substance that appeared thicker and darker than normal. "I'm less than a man," he said. "I am something else - you know what I look like, what I've become."

"What's more important is what you can be if you persist.. would you rather die like this? Or live on and grow old with me?"

Cirion didn't listen. The steel thrusted deep through his chest until the tip could be seen coming out on the other side beneath the chainmail he wore. More and more blood was flowing. Though undeath might have started to take hold over him, he could still feel the pain. And he was weakening, which Yashia saw. Right away, she grabbed a hold of his arm by the wrist to draw the sword out. Cirion resisted with remarkable, almost monstrous strength. Their tugging both ways could only worsen his condition. Yashia had to do something, and fast.

She did not want to use violence against the man she loved, though now she felt forced to in order to save him. With one arm still gripped on his sword-hand, she used her other hand to knock him on the back of his head as hard as she could. The daze it brought him into was enough for her to pull the sword out and drag him out of the water.

[Kaeldorn]

Cirion's life force was slipping away more quickly than the curse could drain him of it. Yashia had some healing ability for emergencies just like this, though it would hardly be enough to let him recover from the damage he had just wrought upon himself. She used all she had at her disposal; spells, potions as well as bandage to stop the bleeding. And a soft humming, mostly to keep herself focused. Having done all she could, she quaffed a potion to bolster her own strength and slipped her arms under his limp body to carry him.

Perhaps the healing she bestowed was a bit too much, as Cirion awoke and started to struggle. Yashia realized that suppressing him would only make him strain himself more, so she slowly set him down and asked in a soft and trembling voice for his cooperation. His only chance of survival. It did not seem to work. He tried to push her away, but he was too weak to do so and quickly collapsed once more. After having picked him up to carry him further, she saw the cloths wrapped around his wounds collect more and more red. A glance down at his wrinkled, corprus-tainted face was enough to make her shiver. She swallowed, and clenches her jaws together tightly and readied herself to carry on. Then, all of a sudden, she noticed the ring around her finger. The wedding ring he slipped on her finger months ago, with the wish for their eventual, actual bonding to be completed some time in a distant future.

Yashia remembered that it was magical, but in her emotional haze it was difficult for her to try and remember how Cirion told her how that aspect of it would be activated. It took her a few seconds that seemed like hours, she wished upon the Lady Firehair to succeed now that she needed it most. Whether it was her fiddling and focusing or her faith, the band emitted a soft glow all of a sudden. It spread through the veins of the man in her arms, and without looking she knew that this had to mean the difference of Cirion's life and death. He remained unconscious, but alive.

Once they had almost arrived at the place of her destination in the Military Ward of Sundren, the man who had nearly committed suicide a second time came back to the world of the aware. Yashia set him down by a tree next so he would have something to rest his back against while she cast a protective spell to ward him from the overwhelming auras of good nearby. Yet more was still needed. She also needed him to be willing to continue on. Without that, she could not expect him to accept treatment to live.

"I'm sorry to have to put you through this..." she said quietly to him. "Really I am, but it has to be done. Try to find some solace in the knowledge that you'll be given the best aid possible by people who have vowed to do all they can." With his lack of feeling, perhaps rationality was what could make things easier on him at this moment. So she thought.

He tried to tug away, to pull himself and from the Temple. But after a few moments his attempts died down and he simply leaned most of his weight against her. Truly needing the support to even stand. "... I can't, don't know if I can ..." he uttered.

Yashia moved forward to embrace him. It was difficult, his illusions had long worn off and he looked in all ways as ugly as a true monster would. Foul, corrupted, evil taking root on him to the bone. Though inside, deep inside, she clinged to what she remembered him to be. And what he could be again if only she gave him her guidance while they worked on the last pieces of the puzzle that would form a cure when completed.

"Then do it because it's the only way we can stay together in this life.."

Hearing those words, the monster was moved aside. Cirion was swayed, his old self shining faintly through his horrific appearance. He held both his arms around her in a fleeting hug and whispered back that he loved her. "I'll try. I must try. Let's go inside."

And so, Yashia together with what remained of the dying Cirion entered the Temple of the Triumvirate. Looking for the aid of the Broken Ones and brother Melchior, the head of the Ilmatari in Sundren.