#imtura the warrior | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saibug1022 · 7 months

Text

Walls of Regret

Word Count: 2.2k

Tyril Starfury x Asterin Nightbloom (MC), Mal Volari x Asterin Nightbloom (MC), subtle hints of Tyril x Mal

A/N: We are SO back baby. You can entirely blame @secret-fungi for all of this pain. I've been talking a lot about Blades and what I've been wanting from it, but PB as NOT been delivering, so here we are. And I've got another fic planned where MC absolutely loses it so stay tuned 👀

Asterin let out a grunt as his back hit the ground, but he quickly rolled to the side as he heard the telltale whistle of an arrow being fired. Sure enough, when he glanced back there was a dark arrow embedded in the ground where his head had just been. This was getting really annoying really fast.

Asterin and his friend had followed the Watcher’s instructions, closing rift after rift, jumping into and out of the Shadow Realm over and over. Until they made the jump again, right into the old palace of the Dreadlord only to find an army of warriors from the Ash Empire waiting for them, led by none other than Valax herself.

Even the sight of her made shivers race down Asterin’s spine and his breath catch in his chest. Every instinct he had kept telling him to run, to hide. Better, to open a portal and get far far away from her, from the Shadow Realm, from everything. But he couldn’t. He still had a job to do. So he ignored the archers and leaped back into the fray, engaging Valax with Mal and Tyril while Imtura, Nia, and Aerin held back her men as best they could.

“I don’t suppose you could do your realm thing so we can get out of here?” Mal asked as he appeared next to Asterin, sounding out of breath.

“I’d love to but I’m a little busy trying to not die,” Asterin replied. “I have to concentrate but if I stop moving for two seconds I’ll- TYRIL DOWN!”

Thank the Old Gods, the Light, whoever, that Tyril fell to the ground without hesitation and a jagged burst of black magic sailed right over his head and hit the wall instead, shattering a doorway. Mal cursed and tried to rush to Tyril’s side, Asterin right behind him, but a wall of black, ice-like crystals erupted out of the ground, blocking their way.

“Tyril?” Valax smirked as she advanced on Tyril who was still getting to his feet. Asterin let out a cry of rage and banged his staff against the wall of ice blocking them from getting to the elf, like that was going to break it.

“How do we get through this?!” Mal exclaimed.

“I don’t know!” Asterin cried. He looked around, trying to find Nia or even Aerin to get their help, only to realize too late that Valax had led them far away from the army and down into the depths of the fortress. His eyes danced from place to place as he tried to find something that could help them get to Tyril, only for them to fall on a familiar table with dried blood and rough straps. His blood ran cold.

No.

Not here.

She brought them here.

“The famous Tyril.” Valax’s face was part smirk and part sneer. Tyril lifted his sword but Valax didn’t advance any farther. She stopped just out of reach of Tyril’s blade. She hardly looked threatened. She didn’t even spare the sword a glance, her eyes staring straight into Tyril’s. “Brave, honorable, strong Tyril Starfury. Am I right?”

“You know nothing about me,” Tyril snarled.

“I know everything about you,” Valax disagreed. “However, I have to say I’m disappointed. So far you are nowhere near the great warrior Asterin made you out to be.”

Asterin felt like he’d been punched in the gut. From the look on his face, Tyril was feeling something similar. He looked to Asterin as Asterin resumed trying to force his way through the shards. Nothing was working it didn’t even make a dent, but logic wasn’t commanding him. The only thing moving his limbs was anger and fear. Dread flowed through his veins and ice coated his bones. She had to be lying. She had to! Asterin remembered his conversation with her, he didn’t tell her anything about anyone! But how else could she know?

“I didn’t tell you anything!” Asterin swore.

“He truly loves you,” Valax told Tyril. “I could tell in the way he screamed for you.”

Screamed?

“You’re lying,” Tyril shook his head, but his voice broke ever so slightly. “You’re lying! He was unconscious up until his escape. I won’t fall for your games.”

“Did you really think I’d keep him unconscious the entire time?” Valax scoffed. “He couldn’t answer my questions while asleep. Not that he was too keen on answering them anyway. But when he was sobbing, shaking, the pain driving him nearly insane, he’d cry out for you. Screaming, pleading for you to help him. He’d mutter in the dark of his cell about a promise you made, how he wasn’t going to give up on you, and how he knew you’d save him.”

It was as if her words physically struck him, forcing Tyril to stumble back. His hands were shaking around his sword in a way Asterin had never seen. But the look in Tyril’s eyes was one he’d seen before when they’d found the petrified form of Kaya in the catacombs of Undermount. He looked destroyed, ashamed, like his very spirit had been broken.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Asterin shouted. But as Valax finally turned to face him, turning her back to Tyril, Tyril didn’t even move. He just took heaving breaths as he stared wide-eyed at the stone floor. It was like he didn’t even know what was happening. “You’re lying! Tyril, don’t listen to her!”

“This other one…” Valax looked to Mal next. “Is this Mal then?”

Asterin instinctively moved in between Valax and Mal, as if he could physically protect Mal from the venom in her words. But with Tyril practically incapacitated and the wall of ice, there was nothing he could do to stop her from speaking.

“Looks like I’m right,” Valax raised an eyebrow. “This is the thief? The one you searched the shadows for? The one you hoped was behind every sound? The one that had you looking up wide-eyed and hopeful every time you heard footsteps?”

“Kit, tell me she’s making this up,” Mal said. His voice could barely even qualify as a whisper but it was pleading. Asterin could tell how badly he wanted the princess to be wrong. It was written in every tense muscle of his body and the tightness of his voice in a language only Asterin knew how to read.

“She is,” Asterin swore. “I was unconscious the whole time. She’s, she’s just trying to freak you out.”

But even as he said it the words had the bitterness of a lie. He was telling the truth, yet he still hid the new scars he couldn’t explain, even from Mal and Tyril. He could still feel that phantom instinct begging him to run while he could. He still braced himself for something every time Valax spoke or looked his way. It was as though his body remembered something his mind didn’t.

“He swore you’d get him out,” Valax chuckled darkly. “No matter how many times I promised no human thief could break into this fortress, he still never gave up on you. No matter what we put him through, he’d look me in the eyes, tears still streaming down his face, and tell me I’d regret this when Mal and Tyril got here. He really believed in you…though, with how long he was here and what he had to do to escape, I take it you gave up on him?”

“SHUT UP!” Asterin roared.

He swung his staff again but there was something more behind it. All the rage, fear, desperation, and pain that had been controlling him came together at once. It rose to the surface and exploded as the staff collided with the ice. There was a noise like thunder and the wall shattered, sending ice shards flying and releasing a shockwave that threw back everyone except Asterin. Asterin stalked forward, grip so tight on his staff that his hands shook from the tension.

He slammed the staff down, aiming for Valax’s face, but she wasn’t as dazed as she appeared. She kicked his ankle, throwing him off balance and making him miss his swing. She danced out of the way and on instinct Asterin raised his staff, just managing to block a blow to his back.

“You really don’t remember do you?” Valax said as Asterin whipped around. “Interesting.”

Asterin had been ready for an attack from her sword, but instead, she thrust out her hand and grabbed his forehead faster than he could process the movement.

All at once images and sounds began to flood his mind. They flashed across his mind’s eye faster than he could absorb them yet they all lodged perfectly into place in his memory. He remembered every bruise and every drop of blood taken from him, he remembered the source of every scar, every cold night and dark day. He remembered Valax’s face staring down at him impassively as she made him feel pain he couldn’t even fathom, all to try and understand something Asterin himself didn’t even know.

Valax removed her hand and Asterin collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. His legs just completely gave out beneath him. His head felt like it was on fire and his lungs were trying to collapse. Worst of all was the memories of pain lingering on every nerve. It was all he’d known for a year and now it was all he could understand.

Distantly he saw flashes of light and heard metal on metal like someone was in a fight but his mind was too fuzzy to try and understand until he felt a hand on his face. He lurched backwards and away, trying to escape whatever pain was coming even though he’d never been able to before.

“Asterin?”

“C’mon Rin, it’s us, you’re okay.”

Asterin lowered the arms they’d been using to shield their head and blinked a few times to try and force their sight to focus. Mal and Tyril. The two men were crouched in front of him, bleeding but alive. Tyril looked like someone had ripped his heart out and Mal’s hands were raised in a gesture of peace. They came? They really came they found hi-...no. No, they didn’t.

He remembered. How he’d fled from the fortress and narrowly escaped the Shadow Realm. How he’d found them strewn throughout Morella. How they’d all given up. He remembered forgiving them and understanding. But now he also remembered the pain. He remembered everything Valax had said. How he’d screamed and pleaded and begged and prayed and no one came. How they’d left him.

They must have realized he saw them now because Mal reached for him but Asterin looked away and forced himself to his feet with the help of the wall behind him.

“Where did she go?” Asterin asked.

“Not sure, she disappeared in black flames,” Mal answered hesitantly, eyes still searching Asterin for something.

“Asterin are you alright?” Tyril finally said. “What did she do to you?”

“She showed me everything,” Asterin answered, a bite to his voice he didn’t plan but that he didn’t regret either. “I wasn’t unconscious like I thought. Everything she said was true. Everything.”

“Asterin-” Tyril tried to reach for him, to do what Asterin wasn’t sure, but Asterin pushed his hands away. He wanted nothing more than to hide from everything in their arms, to go back to not knowing what happened and chase that feeling of safety. But that feeling of safety was gone. It was eroded by pain like the cliffs along a shore. No matter how he reached for it all Asterin could find was something hollow and cold, like he’d brought that cell with him.

“Asterin? Mal? Tyril?” Nia’s voice echoed through the corridors and Asterin shoved his way past them.

“Kit, wait, let us-” Mal spoke only for Asterin to whip around with a look on his face that shocked the thief into silence.

“Let you what? Apologize?” Asterin scoffed. “She was right! You gave up on me! I was able to forgive you before because it was like you said Mal, I just slept through it right?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mal objected.

“It doesn’t matter how you meant it!” Asterin snapped. “I believed in you. Both of you! I was there to lift you up and help you through everything and you just left me here! Now that I know what that meant…”

Asterin had to take a deep breath and force his tears back as the memories washed over him again, burning across his skin as if he were still on that Light-forsaken table.

“You both made promises,” Asterin said. “And neither of you kept any of them. But none of that matters right now. Feelings and hurt aside we still have a job to do. I have a rift to close and a portal to open, and then we have a quest to get back to.”

“And when the quest is over?” Tyril asked quietly, eyes shining in the torchlight.

“...I don’t know.”

#choices #playchoices #blades of light and shadow #bolas #bolas 2 #choices bolas #pixelberry #choices book club #tyril starfury #mal volari #tyril x mc #mal x mc

91 notes · View notes

petalouda85 · 27 days

Text

Forever (in my Mind)

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairings: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 3.1k

Concept: the follow-up to Promise. TW: character death

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls, @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: this was… an emotional rollercoaster. The amount of times I cried is unreal; this was harder and more heartbreaking to write than Promise despite an arguably happier ending. I swear, this is going to be the last sad fic I’ll write in a while. The song in this fic: “Forever (in my Mind)” by Malinda. Another song that played a large role in this fic: “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” from Hamilton.

When Tyril had asked for a doctor, Adrina knew the time had come.

The last year had been a slow and steady decline for him; he began the year standing upright but was soon reliant on a cane, his movement still getting slower by the day despite his restrained use of the Light. A few days ago, he’d retreated to his chambers and asked to be left alone so he could rest, abandoning his gilded cane for the comfort of his bed. But after days of rest, his energy never returned. He’d stubbornly denied requests for a doctor but after some pleading and no improvement, he’d finally asked for one.

The doctor had come quickly and shut the door behind him, leaving Adrina to pace in the hall, her daughter keeping her company. No words were exchanged between the two. They knew the end was near, but Adrina’s heart sank at the mere thought that her beloved brother was nearing that end.

After a long and painful wait, the door opened, and she immediately ran to the doctor as he exited the room. He simply looked at her and shook his head.

“There’s nothing more I can do. Best we can do is make him comfortable.” Her face broke only for a moment before she regained her composure, Lady Starfury speaking as she addressed the doctor.

“Thank you.” The elf bowed and left, Adrina and her daughter rushing into the room.

Her brother had always been a driven man. Serious and driven. Nothing could stop him the moment he set his mind to something. Every setback, once mourned, only served to spur him onward, a hunter slowly and steadily pursuing prey.

She had only ever seen him stagnate once, after the battle against the Ash Empress. But his grief, his promise had pushed him forward. Always forward.

Life threw much at him, but he continued, visiting libraries, traveling to the far reaches of Morella and beyond, coming back to Undermount with stories and scars. During his short intermittent stays in Undermount, he could often be found in his study, writing feverishly into thick book after thick book, writing like he was running out of time.

He kept going, even when everything he cared for began to disappear. His friends had been gone for a long time. Imtura went first, the sea reclaiming its warrior. Mal followed not long after; the shadow desired to claim him once more but he breathed his last in the light. Nia had held on for much longer, her work never done, but she too eventually returned to the Light. And Kade read his last book a decade later.

Tyril had kept going through it all, his unrelenting drive pushing him forward. Spurred by his grief, his promise or perhaps a death wish, Adrina did not know but now, 200 years later, he lay fragile in bed, a face and body worn down by quests and time.

Slowly, she approached the bed, sitting down in the chair that had been placed next to it as her daughter remained by the door, too overcome with emotion to approach. The siblings didn’t say anything to each other for some time, the atmosphere heavy enough to choke down all words. Slowly, Tyril reached for the side table and grabbed a thick piece of folded paper, sealed with wax.

“My will. It has instructions and my final wishes.” He said softly, holding the paper out. Slowly, Adrina took it, holding it tightly in her hand. “I’ve ensured that the funds for the orphanage will continue. Can you make sure they’re used properly? I do not wish the children to suffer because of greed. I want them to have a good life, even when I’m gone.” She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I’ll make sure of it. They’ll want for nothing.” Briefly, he managed to smile, before letting out a long, exhausted breath, the silence permeating the room.

“200 years…” he muttered after some time, “it’s not enough. There’s so much I could still do.” He took a shallow breath, a tear escaping his eye. “But I’m so tired, Adrina.” Another tear rolled down her cheek and she reached for his hand; it felt cold in hers.

“Then sleep, Tyril.” She managed a weak smile despite the tears in her eyes. “You’ve pushed for so long, done so much. You kept your promise. It’s okay to rest now.”

“But you, Amara…”

“We’ll be fine.” Adrina beckoned her daughter closer, the young elf struggling to hold back her tears.

“Uncle.” He smiled lightly at her voice.

“Amara.” The young elf approached, settling herself next to her mother, the old elf turning to look at her. He simply stared at her before whispering, “the chest.” He pointed towards a small chest that stood unassumingly at the foot of the bed. Amara nodded and brought it closer. “Open it.” She did and pulled out one of several thick, leather-bound books, tied shut.

Carefully, she untied the leather laces and opened the thick tome, opening to a page showcasing a masterfully illustrated image of Tyril and his friends at the Ancestral Masquerade, facing Duchess Xenia, the page next to it filled with words. As the book fell fully open, magic beamed in the brush strokes and the image began to move slightly, bringing the painting further to life. “My adventures… my friends’ adventures, it’s all written in these books. Kade and I… we wanted the truth preserved somewhere before we were relegated to the myths we once chased. He helped me compile much of it and I kept going when he couldn’t anymore.” Adrina couldn’t help but stare at the pages in awe.

“This is incredible. We’ll keep them safe, brother.” She assured. Amara tried to shut the book, but Tyril stopped her. He stared at the image, a bittersweet tear running down his cheek. He continued staring, running his fingers tenderly over the painted images of his friends. When he eventually pulled his hand away, Amara shut the book and placed it back into the safe confines of the chest.

They fell silent, the seconds ticking by slowly, Adrina’s keen eyes watching her brother as he continued to fade, his eyes partially shut, wishing to sleep but a part of him still stubbornly hanging on.

She could hear him mumbling but it was hard to make out what he was saying. She leaned closer, her heart twisting when she heard that it was a name.

“Kassandra.” He muttered breathlessly. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she recalled something he told her a few years back, in one of the few conversations he ever mentioned her.

You want to know the horrible truth? I barely remember what she looked like. She was the only one I ever wanted. She was taken from me, and 200 years of living couldn’t fill the hole she left behind.

“Kassandra.” He muttered again. Adrina leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Go be with her, brother.” She whispered, her voice shaking. “Go fill the hole in your heart. We’ll be alright.” Briefly, she spied a smile on his face before a weak puff of air escaped his lips, his chest going still and his hand loosening under hers.

—

When Tyril opened his eyes, he was no longer in his bed. Rather, he stood next it. It was a strange sensation to see his own aged body still lying in it, his sister and niece weeping over it. He looked and examined his ghostly hands, finding them to be in a state of youth again. Examining his hair had similar results - gone were the grays and whites, the strands returned to their youthful black.

Carefully, he moved around the bed and tried to place his hand on Amara’s shoulder, only for it to go through her, his niece not reacting to his attempted touch. He felt a stab in his chest, but he shed no tears as it confirmed what he knew to be true.

He was dead.

He took a moment to mourn with them, though they mourned different things. As he knelt with his sister and niece, he tried to recall the final moments. His recollection had been hazy, his vision and mind unclear as he teetered between the realm of the living and the dead.

If he’d recalled correctly, a specter had come to him only moments before the darkness came. He focused on that vague memory, trying to push past the fog.

It had begun as a mysterious shape, no rhyme or reason in his failing eyes. It had eventually morphed into something, the shape becoming less and less transparent the longer it hovered above him. It had smiled at him as the shape became even clearer.

A woman. Human, dark skinned, dark braided hair, and brown eyes.

He had whispered her name and she had kissed his forehead.

Find me on the mountain.

“Mountain.” He whispered, looking above him, piercing his gaze beyond the limits of the ceiling.

He headed for the door, stopping in the frame to glance once more at his family. A tear rolled out as he looked; how he would miss them.

He wandered down the hallway in his ghostly form, servants unintentionally passing through him, whispering the news of his death among themselves; no doubt the rest of Undermount would know within the hour.

He continued to wander the halls, struck by a desire to see every nook and cranny of the vast estate before he would eventually say goodbye to it. He wandered through the library, the kitchen, the dining hall, even the servants’ quarters, trying to memorize every detail. Eventually, he found himself in the wide expanse of the ballroom, the curtains drawn but the magical orbs floating above providing just enough light to prevent total darkness in the room.

Many an evening he had spent here, helping his sister host masquerades. He’d been glad for the masks, if only to hide how much he didn’t want to be there. He mingled and chatted as expected but rarely danced, his sister and niece being the only dance partners he could bear to have; it was impossible to dance with the one he truly wished to.

The thought of her brought back the memory of the specter and the words she had whispered before the end.

“Find me on the mountain.” He whispered to himself once more, his sight falling onto a staircase, it hidden away in the far reaches of the room and partially hidden in the shadows. He knew it led up to the outside. He made his way to them, freezing when he heard a sound in the stairwell. It echoed yet it was beautiful, a gentle voice singing words he was too far away to understand. There was a pang of emotion when he listened more carefully, stepping further into the stairwell. The words he still couldn’t make out, even with his keen elven senses, but for a moment, the voice sounded familiar, dredging up painful memories of a time long ago.

In a burst, he began running up the stairs, two steps at a time, the words of the song becoming clearer as he climbed higher and higher, forcing tears down.

Like the moon, you pull me closer

Bathe my body in your lavender skies

Like a sound, you slip away

Leave a shadow of a day gone by

And I’ll love you forever in my mind.

And I’ll love you until the day I die.

He burst out of the stairwell onto the mountainside, quickly looking at his surroundings, trying to deduce the direction of the voice. The echoes of the words were carried in the breeze, guiding him in the right direction. He ran in pursuit but came to an abrupt stop when he noticed a ghostly figure ahead, standing near the edge of a sheer drop off the mountain, facing the sun. Her back was turned to him, but his stomach twisted in knots when he recognized her, disbelief and doubt overwhelming him.

And I’ll love you forever in my mind.

And I’ll love you until the day I die.

She sang softly, the wind carrying the melody of her voice to him. Slowly, she turned to face him.

It was her.

Tyril stood still as a statue, staring, emotion choking him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs collapsed under him, his tears finally breaking past the dam of his own control. In seconds, he felt a touch and soon he was enveloped in an embrace, the touch of her hands a sensation he had forgotten long ago. He grasped onto her tightly, burying his face in her neck, weeping louder when he breathed in her scent, another thing he’d forgotten.

“You’re here.” Tyril said softly, his voice shaking. He felt her tighten her grip on him.

“I never left.” Kassandra responded, her voice shaking too. They held onto each other tightly, neither wishing to let go. Eventually, Tyril pulled away, desperate to see her face.

She looked exactly as he remembered. Still as beautiful and radiant as the day she was taken from him. He reached up to cup her face, his hand faltering for a moment. He choked back a sob when his hands didn’t go through her and immediately planted kiss after kiss on her lips, the taste so sweet but salty too. He kept planting more kisses, as if intent to give her every kiss he’d wished to give her over the last two centuries.

Far too soon, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“I missed you. So much. You have no idea…” The words were lost in his throat, drowned by another sob. “I kept my promise.”

“And you have no idea how thankful I am that you did.” She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, brushing away his tears. “A man like you, wasting his life on tears, unable to dig himself out of the pits of grief, surviving but not living. What a tragedy that would’ve been.” Gently, he took her hands and held them tenderly, staring at them as more tears appeared. He lifted them and placed a kiss on each of her hands.

“It was not easy.” He admitted, his voice trembling. “Living a life with a fractured heart wears down even the most resolute of men. 200 years and somehow, I feel as though I’ve not done enough to live by my promise and your wish.” She smiled at him through her own tears and squeezed his hands.

“You did everything I asked and so much more. You’ve lived not only by my wish but by the wishes of our friends. Mal was so grateful for what you’ve done for the orphanage.”

“Mal? The others? They’re here?” He looked around them, seeing only the wide empty breadth of the mountainside.

“They’re in Elhalas.” Anger suddenly bubbled in him, already thinking of a few choice words for the gods.

“Did they deny you entry?” She quickly shook her head.

“I refused to enter Elhalas without you. I told the gods to go screw themselves and came back here, to wait for you.”

“You waited for me?” He asked in a small voice.

“I’d wait an eternity for you.” She leaned forward and gave him another kiss. “It hurt to wait so long, just watching and unable to touch you or help you. Years of the sweetest words you couldn’t hear. But the wait is over now. Now, we have an eternity.” Gently, she pulled away and rose to her feet, taking a few steps. She looked over the expanse of the mountainside, taking in the details. After a moment, she turned around and walked back to him, holding out her hand. “You ready?”

With a soft smile, he reached out and took her hand. Once standing, he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Yes.” She lifted her hand and moved it in a familiar motion, a portal of ethereal light appearing before them. “Show off.” Kassandra chuckled and moved through the portal, pulling him through too.

In an instance, the mountain had disappeared. Instead, before them, was an open field, wide and expansive, the otherworldly beauty nearly causing a tear to roll down his cheek. A glistening city stood in the distance, the structures and the stones they were made of unlike anything he’d ever seen, even in the hall of visions in Undermount. It put the vast beauty of Valen to shame. A gentle wind blew around them, the air carrying with it a potent and divine energy.

“Welcome to Elhalas.”

“It’s beautiful.” He looked over the area once more, finding it hard to take in all the magnificence. His gaze fell to a hill in the distance, a single, stunning oak tree resting at the top. The leaves and branches swayed gently with the breeze when he noticed some figures sitting and standing around the trunk, the shade and the distance hiding their identities.

He could see four figures. Three seemed to be of similar stature, two seated by the trunk and the third leaning against it. The fourth was seated on the grass nearby. The leaning figure moved away from the trunk and moved to the one sitting in the grass; within in a moment, the standing figure dashed around the trunk, the sitting figure jumping up to give chase, revealing a much larger stature. As they came around the trunk, the hulking figure grabbed and tripped their assailant, Tyril seeing rather than hearing the laughter of the others as they tumbled to the grass, a wrestling match ensuing. He continued to watch them, his stomach churning with a whirlwind of emotions he found difficult to decipher.

Kassandra squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Come on.” He let her gently pull him along, moving closer towards the hill. As they began to walk up, the figures became so much clearer, and he choked back a gasp.

Kade and Nia sitting by the tree, Kade playing a gentle tune on his lute as Nia tapped her hand and seemed to hum along to the song. Nearby, their typical childish wrestling match over, were Imtura and Mal, also listening to the songs played.

Nia saw him first.

The priestess stood up as they made eye contact, the others following her gaze and standing up too as he and Kassandra reached the top of the hill. All stood frozen for some time, only staring as countless emotions and thoughts swirled between them all. Then, with a sob, Nia ran to him and embraced him tightly, Tyril’s own tears flowing once more as he embraced her back. Quickly, more arms embraced him, and more sniffles joined.

“Took your damn time.” Imtura scolded, making the elf and the others chuckle. He embraced his friends tighter, feeling the last heavy weights that lingered in his heart finally lift, leaving behind a sense of peace.

“My apologies. I had a promise to keep.”

#tyril starfury #tyril x mc #adrina starfury #tyril x kassandra #my writing #blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow 2 #bolas 2 #playchoices

23 notes · View notes

butch-bracket · 2 months

Text

BUTCH BRACKET Round 1

Rules & Guidelines

If you notice any issues with the matchups or submissions please let me know!

Matchups under the cut, polls will be linked once they're posted.

Bracket A

Jess McCready (A League of Their Own) vs. Shelley Byron (Doom Patrol)

Lupe García (A League of Their Own) vs. Desdemona (Fortnite)

Jo DeLuca (A League of Their Own) vs. Min Suh (My Princess Charming)

Vi (A League of Their Own) vs. Darling Charming (Ever After High)

Max Chapman (A League of Their Own) vs. Faye (Questionable Content)

Chloe Kitagawa (Belle of the Ball) vs. Imtura Tal Kaelen (Choices: Blades of Light and Shadow)

Kase Tomoka (Kase-san snd Morning Glories) vs. Miyake Aoi (D4DJ)

Hoshiumi Asa (Haikyuu) vs. Kyoutani Kentarou (Haikyuu)

Annabelle Cheddar (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy) vs. Sir Amanda Maillard (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy) vs. Captain Jan De La Vega (Dimension 20: A Starstruck Odyssey)

Kristen Applebees (Dimension 20: Fantasy High) vs. Evan Kelmp (Dimension 20: Misfits and Magic) vs. Chieftess Cleva Katzon (Dimension 20: The Ravening War)

Cynthia Zdunowski (Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies) vs. Lake (Infinity Train)

Anne Lister (Gentleman Jack) vs. Sasha Nein (Psychonauts)

Tracer/Lena Oxton (Overwatch) vs. Zarya/Aleksandra Zaryanova (Overwatch)

Moira O'Deorain (Overwatch) vs. Junker Queen (Overwatch)

Brigitte Lindholm (Overwatch) vs. Susie (Deltarune)

Riot Maidstone (Hello from the Hallowoods) vs. Striga (Castlevania)

Bonnibel Bubblegum (Adventiure Time: Fionna and Cake) vs. Cassie Sandsmark (DC Comics)

The Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who) vs. The Twelfth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Sevika (Arcane) vs. Vi (Arcane)

Geeta (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet) vs. Rika (Pokémon Scarlet/Violet)

Kim (My Candy Love) vs. Jean (Blue Jean)

Naberius Kalego (Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun) vs. Opera (Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun)

Zen'in Maki (Jujutsu Kaisen) vs. Jane Crocker (Homestuck)

Rainbow Dash (My Little Pony) vs. Applejack (My Little Pony)

Dame Aylin (Baldur's Gate 3) vs. Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate 3)

Karlach (Baldur's Gate 3) vs. Kevin E. Levin (Ben 10 Ultimate Alien/Alien Force)

Jillian Holtzmann (Ghostbusters (2016)) vs. Kena Mwaura (Rafiki)

Emmy Altava (Professor Layton) vs. Chloe Price (Life Is Strange)

Lois (Dykes to Watch Out For) vs. Kora (Rebel Moon)

Mo (Dykes to Watch Out For) vs. Kipo (Kipo And The Age Of Wonderbeasts)

Niamh Brody (Any Way The Wind Blows) vs. Jamie (Butch Jamie)

Kenjou Akira/Cure Chocolat (KiraKira Precure a la Mode) vs. Hinomori Shiho (Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage)

Bracket B

Tenoh Haruka/Sailor Uranus (Sailor Moon) vs. Arkady Patel (The Strange Case of Starship Iris)

Nahara Satrinava (The Arcana) vs. Nazali Satrinava (The Arcana)

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb) vs. Isabel Lovelace (Wolf 359)

Pyrrha Dve (The Locked Tomb) vs. Alice "Daisy" Tonner (The Magnus Archives)

Park Jae-In (Sora & Haena!) vs. Thatcher Davis (The Mandela Catalogue)

Jess Goldberg (Stone Butch Blues) vs. Lady Lesso (The School for Good And Evil)

Undyne (Undertale) vs. Van Palmer (Yellowjackets)

Amaya (The Dragon Prince) vs. Tenjou Utena (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

Burn (Wings of Fire) vs. Moonwatcher (Wings of Fire)

Tsunami (Wings of Fire) vs. Asha (Wings of Fire)

Moonlight (Warriors) vs. Mothwing (Warriors)

Anybodys (West Side Story (1961)) vs. Anybodys (West Side Story (2021))

Mitsuki Koga (The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy At All) vs. Rachel Lindt/Hellhound/Bitch (Worm)

Warthog (Trinity) vs. Susie Myerson (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)

Jay (Star Stable) vs. Sabine (Star Stable)

Alex Cloudmill (Star Stable) vs. Korra (The Legend of Korra)

Adora (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Huntara (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Catra (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Scorpia (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Pearl (Splatoon) vs. Kit Tanthalos (Willow)

Sun Jing (Tamen De Gushi) vs. Coral (The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes)

Buliara (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom) vs. Urbosa (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Ganondorf (The Legend of Zelda) vs. Impa (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Tetra (The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker) vs. Linkle (Hyrule Warriors)

Queen Barb (Trolls) vs. Viva (Trolls)

Hunter (The Owl House) vs. Willow Park (The Owl House)

Luz Noceda (The Owl House) vs. Raine Whispers (The Owl House)

Blaze the Cat (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Vector the Crocodile (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Surge the Tenrec (Sonic the Hedgehog) vs. Ali (The Big Con)

Garnet (Steven Universe) vs. Ruby (Steven Universe)

Bismuth (Steven Universe) vs. Roman (Sanders Sides)

Saira (We Are Lady Parts) vs. Kim (Yes Or No)

Lucy Kensington (Where The Stars Fell) vs. Yang Xiao Long (RWBY)

#butch bracket #round 1 #matchups #not a poll

22 notes · View notes

sophie-summer · 7 months

Text

Imtura is so underrated can't explain how sad that is to me because I ADORE HER. Really, and I'm not talking about just romancing her, she is a strong capable orc. Funny, flirty and sexy! And incredible warriors, loyal to her friends, herself and her principles.

So even if I'm romancing Tyril (I LOVE MY ELF BOY), I'm going to take this book to honor her.

This is for my Imtura's stans.

#imtura tal kaelen #blades of light and shadow #playchoices #choices stories you play #blades 2 #choices fanart

37 notes · View notes

choicesficwriterscreations · 3 months

Text

Blades F/AotW - Jan 14 - 20, 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA | 🔹Submitted by creator

AERIN VALLEROS

Aerin Valleros x MC Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Healing Herbs 🎨🏳️‍🌈 🔹| f!Aerin Valleros x MC by @gaiuskamilah

Withdrawn ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Aerin Valleros x F!MC - @lovehugsandcandy

IMTURA TAL KAELEN

Imtura Tal Kaelen Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Imtura: The Warrior 🎨🔹by @storyofmychoices

MAL VOLARI

Mal Volari x F!MC Fanart 🎨 by @hydn-jpg (C: @dutifullynuttywitch)

Mal Volari x MC Fanart 🎨 by @erixadraws

Springs Eternal 🎨🏳️‍🌈 🔹| Mal Volari x MC - @gaiuskamilah

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Blades of Light and Shadow Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @lilyoffandoms

NIA ELLARIOUS

Nia Ellarious Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

VALAX

Valax Fanart 🎨 🔹by @storyofmychoices

CFWC Main F/AotW List

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #blades of light and shadow #aerin valleros #imtural tal kaelen #mal volari #nia ellarious #valax #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

18 notes · View notes

bedtimegiraffe · 2 months

Text

The Place of Orcish Culture- The Fundamental Tal Kaelen Disagreement

Imtura sums up what she wants and her priorities really well. She loves freedom, adventure, and independence. Which based on the Lore Tablets sounds exactly like, well, an orc.

But it is the sea that gave the orcs what they value most -- freedom. And that is why they have always considered themselves stewards of the sea.

Orcish culture values individuality above all else. As such, the field of battle is seen as a prime place for an individual to prove themselves and their skill. An orcish attack is one of dozens of fighters, each competing to prove the most glorious.

And then you have her mother, Ventra; we never hear her describe herself in her own words, but we can get a lot from what other people say about her.

(Not relevant to this discussion, but it's fascinating to me that everyone else addresses Ventra directly while Imtura talks about her.)

And oh boy, do we get a lot about both of them and their philosophies from their exchange when we reach the Flotilla for the first time.

Ventra is a very strong warrior and decisive leader. She doesn't want her heir having "silly notions about freedom and the high sea." She wants one who will "learn the ways of the crown." Which is interested, because that is an many ways the reverse of what orcs are known for.

Let's get into how Ventra came to be in charge while we're at it (from the Lore Tablets).

Ventra Tal Kaelen of the dominant Minurva fleet set out on a mission to unify all the clans into a single society. Impressively, she passed each fleet's leadership test (though there are whispers of cheating). Now, she rules all the orcs from her throne at Flotilla. A council of twelve leaders, one from each fleet, advises her, though her power is, ultimately, absolute."

That all sounds... really familiar.

For about 500 years, Morella was divided into two dozen fiefdoms, constantly at war. But this period of darkness and chaos ended when the Lords of Whitetower triumphed, conquering the territories one by one to create a unified dynasty.

Whether she knows it or not, Ventra is acting just like the very much human Valleros family. Aerin even describes the position of the human monarch in the same terms- "absolute power." The humans have councilors who advise the King or Queen, but the councilors have no authority. Just like Ventra's system.

Ventra even chose the same title- Queen. Why not Admiral? Or Grand Captain? Or something else even vaguely nautical rather than just copying the humans?

She made even more sweeping changes to the orcish way of life-

In the past, the twelve orcish fleets acted independently, even in conflict. But ten years ago, they were united under the leadership of Ventra Tal Kaelen, who formed an alliance and established a capital, the floating city of Flotilla.

Again, this feels like it directly contradicts orcish values as they're explained in the Lore Tablets-

Orcs are a nomadic species. 'We Lay No Roots' is a foundational principle of orcish culture, and one held deeply by all Clans.

My guess- Ventra saw that the humans had it pretty good. We don't know how long King Arlan has been on the throne, but we do know that King Arlan's reign has been exceptionally peaceful and prosperous (the fallout of his awful parenting notwithstanding). A lack of intraracial conflict is a big help in that. I imagine Ventra's very strong opinions made the idea of holding complete power, with no need to negotiate or explain herself, really appealing.

Imtura and Ventra were never going to see eye-to-eye about how what Imtura should do or how to organize the Clans- because Ventra's thinking is too human.

Ultimately, Imtura brings the orcs back to a system of governance much more in line with their culture and values. Because that's what she's always valued, too.

#I spent years writing literature analysis papers for school and look at me now! (affectionate)#It cracks me up how many of our party members were royalty of some kind who went “Actually- no thanks.”#Not where I expected to end up looking over all of Imtura's interactions with her mother but here we are #Imtura's over here inventing the concept of a republic #choices blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow #choices bolas #imtura tal kaelen #ventra tal kaelen #lore analysis

5 notes · View notes

meindraws · 4 years

Photo

Pushed myself to finish a WIP after three months. I hope this turned out alright.

#blades of light and shadow #imtura tal kaelen #imtura the warrior #choices fanart #playchoices #playchoices fanart #orc #female orc #from her hair to her clothes this one was challenging whew

3K notes · View notes

cashweasel · 3 years

Text

The warrior

Imtura for Day 4 of @bladesappreciationweek <3

157 notes · View notes

storyofmychoices · 1 year

Text

SpreadJoy #717: spreading positivity with quotes and @playchoices characters.

Quote in edit by Thich Nhat Hanh

#imtura tal kaelen #imtura the warrior #bolas imtura #blades of light and shadow #blades of light & shadow #bolas #choices #playchoices #choices game #spreadjoy #choices spreadjoy #spreadjoy request #Thich Nhat Hanh

29 notes · View notes

phaaz · 3 years

Text

Based on that scene from The Office season 3 episode 19

You can watch part of it here

296 notes · View notes

progamermove · 3 years

Text

Somehow trouble always manages to find these two.

Featuring Imtura and Kaisa (F!MC) @bladesappreciationweek

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #choices bolas #bladesaw #imtura the warrior #imtura tal kaelen #kaisa (elf mc)#my art #sketch

106 notes · View notes

petalouda85 · 3 months

Text

Promise

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 3.4k

AO3 link: x

Concept: victory over the Ash Empress quickly turns to tragedy. Tw: character death, use of alcohol to cope with grief, s**cidal thoughts

Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations, @liviusofpella, @starlight-starfury, @megas-choices

A/N: not the fic I thought I’d finish first after Book 2 ended but I also wouldn’t be me if I didn’t write something absolutely heart wrenching once in a while. Rest assured, next fic will be a lot happier.

In case it was missed: TW for character death, alcohol use to cope with grief and s**cidal thoughts. If these make you uncomfortable, feel free to skip; I understand that these can be difficult topics for people.

When Tyril opened his eyes, he winced, the bright sky and sun causing the ache in his head to pulse more strongly. He covered his eyes but smiled ever so slightly; he had not not expected to see those beacons of hope above him. Throughout the battle, the Ash Empress had cast a dark cloud overhead, frightening the warriors of Morella and spurring on the Ashen army. It had flickered in and out of existence as she was attacked and retaliated but with one burst of power, the darkness seemed permanent. But the dark blanket was now gone without a trace.

Upon adjusting, he sat up, looking out over the wide expanse of the battle field, a small smile quirking at his lips.

The Ashen soldiers were scattering, running through the portal back to the Shadow Realm while the Elves, Goblins and Dwarves spurred them on.

As the last of the Ashen disappeared, a deafening silence fell over the battlefield, only the screeches and caws of the ravens and crows above breaking the silence.

He spotted a figure dressed in priestly robes lying in the grass nearby, slowly getting up and clasping at her head, blood streaming down her face.

“Nia.” He whispered, quickly dashing to her and dropping to his knees, examining the wound, a deep gash above her eyebrow. Nia looked at him with weary and dazed eyes.

“I’m alright, Tyril.” She said assuringly. “I just bumped my head.” He quickly held his hand over her cut, the skin closing underneath his magic.

“That’s better.” Nia gave a faint smile.

“Thank you. Where are the others?” She quickly asked.

“Alright, up you get.” Tyril turned his head in the direction of Imtura’s voice. She was not too far away, sporting many cuts on her arms and a few on her face. She had swung Mal’s arm over her shoulder and helped him stand up, which is when the elf spied the rogue’s broken leg. Slowly, the two made their way over to the elf and priestess, relieved smiles on their faces.

“Hey elf boy, priestess. Glad to see you still among the land of the living.” Mal smirked but his jovial expression immediately fell. “Where’s Kassandra?”

Tyril’s head snapped to attention, turning to the last spot he had seen her, the images he saw before being knocked out flashing before his eyes. The golden armor dulled, hands grasped onto the Empress’ face, an impossible stream of Light emanating from them, face twisted in pain and determination as the Empress’ hand smashed past the armor and into her chest before an explosion of Light had blinded and thrown him and the others back, his vision going black moments later.

In the same space was now a spot of black charred grass, a pile of ash gradually blowing away with the wind, and laying nearby, face down in the grass, was a body encased in gold armor, unmoving.

“No.” He muttered desperately, struggling to remain on his feet as he ran to the body, his chest filling with dread. “No. Please. Not like this.” He fell to his knees adjacent to it and turned it over, the sight making him gasp.

Kassandra’s face was marred with cuts and bruises, a trail of blood trickling out the corner of her mouth. Her hair was matted with blood and dirt. The runes on her armor had faded, the enchantment gone with them, and a hole where the Ash Empress had dug her claws in was left behind, blood and Shadow rot dripping out from the gaping wound on her chest.

“NIA!” He cried, finding the Priestess already running towards them, the others in tow. Nia dropped to her knees and immediately, her hands began to glow with healing light. But the blood didn’t stop flowing, the Shadow still permeating. Tears formed in the Priestess’ eyes.

“It’s not working.”

Tyril placed his hand over the wound, concentrating and willing the wounds to be healed but they remained.

“No. Why is it not working?” He whispered.

“It must be the Empress’ doing. It must be.” Nia wept, holding her hand desperately over the wound once more. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated, Tyril sensing a magical but invisible energy surround them. She concentrated and concentrated, her jaw tight, her teeth grinding but the wound remained unchanged. She released the magic, a tear running down her face.

“No.” She whispered, shakily placing her hand to Kassandra’s throat. Immediately, Nia’s eyes widened. “Kassandra?” She gasped. Ever so slowly, Kassandra’s eyes opened, her gaze soft but unfocused.

“Kassandra?” Tyril whispered, cupping her cheek with his own bloodied hand.

“Tyril?” Kassandra’s voice was soft and weak. She turned her head to face him, though her gaze remained unfocused. “Is that you?” He nodded fervently.

“Yes. I’m here. We all are.” Gently, he lifted her up, supporting her head in the crook of his elbow so she could see their companions stand by her. Injured but alive. She smiled weakly at them.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Kit.” Mal teased, leaning heavily on Imtura. “How you holding up?" Kassandra looked down at the hole in her chest.

"I've had worse." She joked, a few snickers emanating through the group. She looked up at the sky, seemingly surprised to see the blue color. “Is it over?” Tyril nodded.

“It’s over. You did it, Kassandra. You won.” She looked at him and smiled.

“No. We won.” The elation on her face quickly faded. “The barrier… I can’t close it. And Valax can’t close it alone. The world will stay as it is.” She lifted her bloodied hand, gazing at it before looking once more at the hole in her chest. She let out a breath, leaning her head into his chest before letting out a small sob. “I wish I was in Undermount.” She wept softly. “I would’ve loved to have seen it one last time.” Tears forming in his eyes, Tyril gently turned her face so she looked at him again, forcing a calm face for her sake.

“Then let’s imagine it. Let’s imagine our return to Undermount.” She looked up to the blue sky, briefly closing her eyes as the sun’s warm beams shined down on her wan face.

“I think it would be a warmer welcome this time. No trouble at the gate and the streets flocked with elves wanting to see the heroes of Morella. We’d push through the crowd to your home. It’s restored and renewed, shining in the light. Beautiful.” She smiled faintly at the image as she struggled to take a deep breath. “Your father and sister at the door. Adrina would hug us and she’d tease you so much.” The thought made Tyril chuckle.

“Relentlessly.” He caressed her cheek, her skin cold and clammy. “I’d take you to the Masquerade and I’d dance all night with you.”

“And kiss me on the floor?” He nodded.

“And declare you my Dinvalir and Kilvalir. The scandal we’d cause.” She giggled at the thought, her smile still so beautiful.

“And drink honey wine?”

“So much that we’d make Threep jealous.”

“Not that difficult to do.” She chuckled though a tear ran down her cheek. The light mood quickly became heavy once more. “You have to keep going. You all do.” He shook his head, tears finally rolling out of his eyes.

“I can’t do it without you.” He said, his voice shaking. The year she had been gone was torture for him. There had been days where he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, her absence having left a dark void in his heart and mind. Hope that she was still alive had kept him going. Now, such hope was not possible. She was slipping away from him and he couldn’t stop it, no more than he could stop water from slipping through his fingers. Slowly, she reached up, briefly cupping his cheek.

“Yes, you can. You’re so strong, Tyril. So much stronger than you realize. You still have so much to give to this incredible world we live in. Travel, learn, protect those who can’t protect themselves.” She dropped her hand to her chest, clasping his hand weakly and bringing it over to rest over her heart. “Promise me, Tyril.” She whispered. “Promise me. Promise me, Uluvalir.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a few of his tears dripping onto her cheeks when she barely returned the gesture. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, letting out a shaking breath.

“I promise.” He whispered before pulling back. She tried to reach up her hand again but it soon fell back to rest on her chest, her strength waning.

“Take care of the others for me. And take care of Kade. Tell him that I’m sorry.” She took a deep, quivering breath, looking at Nia when the priestess took her hand. “Live.” She said, forcing herself to speak louder. She took in another breath, shallow and quick, before looking to Imtura and Mal. “Live for me.”

“Of course, Kassandra.” Nia nodded.

“Always.” Mal responded, nudging Imtura. The two hobbled closer, getting down on their knees next to their companions.

“It’s been an honor fighting with you.” Imtura said with a quivering voice, laying her hand over Nia’s. Soon, Mal’s hand joined as did Tyril’s. Kassandra’s eyes seemed to gaze through them but her smile remained warm.

“What a beautiful family.” She whispered before a faint gasp escaped her lips, her eyes losing focus, her chest becoming still.

For a moment, all was silent, the friends unmoving. With a shaking hand, Tyril reached up and closed Kassandra’s eyes, letting out a strangled sob; she looked so peaceful, he could almost convince himself she was only sleeping. He felt a hand on his shoulder, finding Nia’s eyes red, her composure cracking. She opened her mouth, likely to try to say something comforting but nothing came out and she bowed her head in grief. Mal’s face was stoic but it too was breaking, a tear forcing itself out while Imtura seemed to shake, her fists clenched, her jaw tight.

“Kassandra!” A familiar voice cried.

The four friends turned their heads to the noise, finding Aerin bounding up the hill, Valax on his heels. They skidded to a stop, staring at the scene, horror clouding Aerin’s face.

“Is she…?” His voice shook. Tyril found himself staring at the former prince’s face, finding traces of the love and affection he’d sent in Kassandra’s direction when he thought no one was looking. Another rush of tears flowed from the elf’s eyes as he shook his head; he could hear the prince’s gasp just barely over the sound of his own shattering heart.

As Adrina and the rest of their allies climbed the hill, Tyril watched as Valax turned briskly on her heels and ran towards the portal, the elf spying sorrow and hurt in her eyes in the brief moment he saw her face.

As the Ash princess disappeared through the portal, Adrina had reached the top of the hill, gasping at the sight that greeted her. The siblings exchanged a look; nothing needed to be said, the heavy air conveying the tragic news to her.

Tears in her eyes, Adrina lowered herself to one knee, laying her weapon down and bowed her head reverently to Kassandra. She was soon joined by Cherta and Willow and Aerin and slowly, one by one, the entire army kneeled before them; the sight would’ve been beautiful in any other circumstance, Tyril told himself bitterly as he tightly embraced the body of his lost love.

The days passed in a blur. Seconds became hours, and hours felt like weeks.

A funeral occurred only days later. It was an elaborate ceremony, no expense being too great for the noble hero who sacrificed herself for the realm. The king and many others spoke eloquently and gratefully about her, exalting her virtues and praising her bravery and sacrifice.

“They could never do her justice.” Tyril thought bitterly after the king finished speaking. “She was divine, celestial. She outshone the stars and now, the stars will bow to her for she is greater than them all.”

He forced his way through the ceremony, keeping his jaw tight, fists clenched and shaking slightly; his friends remained close to him, placing supportive hands on his shoulder and whispering words to spur him through the remainder of the ceremony.

After the funeral, he shut himself in his room and he finally let the overwhelming, raging anger out. Smashed vases, broken mirrors, ripped sheets, chipped and charred wood. When there was nothing left to receive his anger, he had collapsed onto the floor, clawing at his head and hair, tears soaking the carpet. He must’ve been loud because shortly after, Adrina had found him in his pathetic state. He didn’t remember much of what happened after. He had a vague recollection of being guided to the chair by the fireplace, a crackling of a spell in the air, restoring the room to its correct state, and a blanket being placed over his shoulders. There had been a muffled voice and a warm hand holding his but he had not reacted, staring at the flames in the hearth.

He remained there, still as a statue, ruminating, not moving even after his sister had given up on pleading with him. After an eternity, she had left, a whisper of a promise to return on her lips as she shut the door.

Somehow, he snapped out of his catatonic state enough to summon a servant to his room. In a monotone voice, he requested wine to be brought to him, a deep craving for alcohol forming in him. The servant returned with the requested item soon enough, Tyril glad that the human had enough sense to bring the bottle too.

It didn’t last the night.

Another bottle was brought the next night and it too was soon empty, the liquor bringing him the numbness he desired. With every drink, another tear fell, his mind repeating the same thought over and over.

First his mother, then Kaya, and now Kassandra. Why were they the cost for all he’d done?

The empty bottle was placed on the table next to his chair, it quickly removed by the servant when they brought more of the requested drink. He didn’t move much from the chair, not that he had the energy to do much else. The days had become a blur, night turning into day and back to night in a matter of seconds. His sister and his friends came by at times, bringing food and water and taking away the untouched plates and cups. They spoke to him, though he never listened to them enough to hear what was said. One word answers in the same monotonous tone were all he could manage.

For days, he remained in the chair, the cycle of friends visiting and servants bringing him his requests continuing. Briefly, he thought that he must’ve been a sight to behold in this stupor. Hair disheveled, clothing wrinkled, eyes red with large bags underneath, wine never far. It was a far cry from the proper lord he once was.

He downed the glass of wine he had in his hand - he wasn’t certain how many he had had already that evening; he stopped counting after the third glass. The liquor went down with ease, adding another delicious layer of numbness. Once the final drops were out of the cup, he placed it down on the table next to him and turned his gaze to the ornate box adjacent to the glass.

He had discovered it on top of one of the dressers many moons ago but it had not crossed his mind until more recent times; in a brief moment out of his catatonia, he had retrieved it and placed it near him. Slowly, he undid the clasp and lifted the lid.

Inside was an ornately decorated knife, it lying beautifully on top a pillow of velvet; another display of the king’s wealth, meant to be admired, not used.

Gently, he took the blade out of the box, it staying loosely in his hand. He turned it in his hand, examining the details on the hilt and the blade itself. It was very beautiful, he had to admit. He continued to stare at it, the firelight reflecting in the blade, the sharpness looking rather inviting.

You have to keep going. Promise me, Tyril. Promise me.

“Why would you make me promise something like that?” He muttered, no tears coming out; he had run out hours ago. Memories flashed across his mind, the happiness in them mocking him. That fateful first meeting in Port Parnassus, the conversation by the railing on the Sun Maiden, their first kiss in the Deadwood, dancing in Undermount, the balcony in Whitetower, the wonderful moment he held her again after that long and lonely year.

His grip on the knife tightened as the memory of the final fight against the Shadow Court flashed before him. That one final moment before opening the door to the ritual chamber. He had kissed her, convinced that it would be the last one.

“I want to live, Kassandra. I want to live for you.” He had told her in that moment. “What is there to live for now?” He mumbled, his grip loosening.

Another memory came to him as he continued to stare at the knife, the flame reminding him of the heat of the moment and the desert they had been in. He replayed it a few times in his mind, every whisper of Dinvalir causing yet more aches. He clawed through the memory once more when a moment within gave him pause.

Sometimes I hate my sense of duty.

I love your sense of duty.

He froze, the knife slipping from his grasp, the tip embedding itself into the floor. His lips began to crack as a smirk made its way to his face, a realization hitting him.

“Clever Kassandra.” He whispered. “Clever, clever Kassandra.” She had known him so well. Even as she lay dying, she thought of his well-being and his future, appealing to his sense of duty in her final moments. He would’ve given her anything, she had known that; ask for a star and he would’ve gifted her the night sky. She had asked for him to keep going, had him promise to keep going and in doing so, she had made it his duty to keep going.

He retrieved the knife from the floor, the sharpness no longer as inviting as before. He stared at it for a few more moments before placing it back on the pillow, slamming the lid shut and placing the latch back in place. He felt discomfort in his knees as he stood up, taking the box off the table and slowly walking to the nearest dresser, opening the top compartment and shoving the box in, slamming the compartment shut once more.

He shuffled to the table and turned the cup upside down. He stared at the chair for a moment but he turned away, going to stand before the fireplace, leaning one hand on the mantle. He stared into the fire, an unexpected tear forming in his eye.

Promise me, Tyril.

Her voice sounded clear in his mind and his imagination played a beautiful trick as he felt a ghostly touch on his shoulder, the sensation eventually moving and embracing him from behind, the phantom ethereal touch beaming with reassurance. It made him smile so slightly, imagining that the touch was her. He let out a long breath, imagining the ethereal hand being placed over his heart as a lightness he hadn’t felt in some time rushed through him.

“The path ahead won’t be easy.” He whispered like a prayer. “The road was much clearer with you beside me. I don’t know what’s next for me. I don’t know what the future holds. It’s all obscured in a thick mist and traversing it without your guiding light terrifies me.” He paused, the imagined hands embracing him more tightly. “I will traverse it and I hope that you stand by me when I do, even when I can’t see you or feel your touch. I know it won’t be easy. But for you? I will try.” He placed his own hand over his heart.

“I promise.”

#tyril x mc #tyril starfury #blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices #my writing #petal writes #tw character death #tw alcohol #Tyril x Kassandra

21 notes · View notes