Runelords 52.1 - A Promise

The room was silent, save for the almost inaudible rustle of papers of people reading books in the distance. Virgil sat quietly, his expression mostly miserable as he periodically glanced towards Luna, who lay on an adjacent bench. He didn’t know when she would regain consciousness, but he held on hope that she would; it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between an unconscious undead and a corpse. The morning had been brutal and unkind to everyone, but likely to no one moreso than her. He sighed heavily, dropping his gaze once more: there was nothing to do but wait. His eyes fell on Khyrralien, whose head lay nestled on his lap. He was sleeping contentedly, despite the fact that it seemed that they had only recently rested in the Runeforge. Turning to the side, he saw Eamon collapsed as well, Khyr’s gangly legs curled around him as the two napped. He watched the pair for a little bit before he happened to look over to his other side. The fairy bread that Khyr had made him sat on the armrest: a piece of white bread with cake icing and sprinkles, and a little smiley face and a heart drawn on with strawberry jam that he had kept in a squeezable bottle for apparently just such an occasion. He still felt sick from earlier: a combination of residual magical nausea mingled with worry for the subject of the battle itself. He couldn’t bring himself to eat it, but the bread grinned sweetly and Virgil couldn’t help but return at least a portion of the smile as he patted Khyr’s shoulder.
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Luna began to stir slightly, and Virgil quickly extricated himself from under the sleeping aelurian to rush over to kneel by her bench. Her eyes flickered open, and she stared at the ceiling for a full minute before slowly sitting upright. Virgil said nothing but stared up at her with an expression that was difficult to read but was obviously full of emotion. Luna continued to look fixedly ahead, unbreathing and unblinking. Ever so slowly, her hand moved towards her chest, her fingers pressing up against her sternum in the spot where her medallion used to sit. Virgil winced, whispering as his head dropped low, “...I’m sorry…”
“It’s...gone…” Luna said quietly, her voice flat. “She’s gone...and...everything’s…” Her hand dropped, and she stared into space, her gaze empty.
“I’m so sorry…”
“...You took everything…” she said with a hint of venom. “The other two held me down and attacked Avazeen while you empowered those weapons, you attacked me, you stabbed Zara, you destroyed her, and you, tore out of my chest, the medallion that was tethering my soul, and keeping my body together.” Her expression hadn’t changed, still staring flatly ahead. “There’s a hole there now, isn’t there? There’s a hole in my chest. That I’m sure will match wonderfully with my inevitable shriveling rot as I slowly become a disgusting mummy.” She continued speaking hollowly as her head drifted down, “I could have fixed that. Could have fixed the rot. And the hole. And Aldern. And so many other things. Could have fixed so many things. Now I can’t fix anything. I’ll never fix anything. I’ll never do anything. I’ll never be anything. Ever again. Because of you.”
Virgil’s expression hardened subtly, “That’s not true. That is so terribly wrong.”
“Don’t lie, you ruined everything, I watched you!” she said again, her voice harsh. 
He cut her off, “Not that!” before repeating more gently, “I’m not arguing that. I did those things, yes. And it was for a reason and I know it was wretched of me and I really, really hope you can understand, but, no, what’s wrong is what you said at the end. That you’ll never be anything. That’s wrong.” She glared icily, hatefully, into the middle distance, unspeaking. Considering his words, he continued quietly, “You were being used by the Magelord of Necromancy to be her puppet body. You couldn’t be anything other than what she wanted: a necromancer. Her tool. Now she’s gone, and you can be Luna.”
“Luna, is nobody,” she said stiffly. “Luna, is a worthless aborted project that hangs around Columbia making people uncomfortable. Luna is subhuman, probably the lowest form of sentient undead there is. Luna, finally had an opportunity to do something. Luna actually had a purpose, actually had someone who needed her help, actually had the ability to affect things, actually had someone to talk to...and then you took that away, and destroyed it. So now what? Zara is dead, Aldern gets to suffer in a horrid undeath he doesn’t want, and I get to go back to being nothing. Knowing that I could try my hardest for the rest of eternity, and never possibly get close to what I was with Zara. Ever.”
“Luna,” Virgil mimicked her tone, his voice holding a stern note, “is a person. Luna has interests, and empathy, and moral standards. Luna had absolutely no interest in necromancy until Zara, or Magelord Zahira to use her real name, started controlling her mind, and Luna,” he softened slightly, “would not have, for a moment, casually considered murder of untried, guiltless bystanders to be acceptable for any reasons, let alone her own.” Something very subtle shifted in Luna’s expression at that assertion. “That’s not something that could be explained away by stress, or desperation, or anything else. When you looked me in the eye and judged people’s lives as being worth sacrificing...then you weren’t Luna anymore. You were Zahira. But I knew Zahira couldn’t have destroyed you yet. I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t let her kill you and use your body like that. So, I know I hurt you. I know I hurt you terribly, and it’s probably going to hurt for a long, long time. But at least you can be yourself again. You didn’t hurt anyone. Zahira might have made you think about it, but I don’t think you acted on anything, so at least…” he looked a bit sidelong, “at least you won’t wake up one day and realize that you’ve spent years doing unforgivable things.” He sighed and continued, “You have worth, and skill, and people to talk to, Aldern and Quint and the people of Sandpoint. You’re not nothing. You don’t deserve to be treated like nothing, made into nothing. Not by the Columbians. Not by Zahira. And not by yourself.”
Luna didn’t reply, but rather sat still for a very long time. Virgil knelt on the floor before her, just as silent. 
Eventually, it was Luna who broke the protracted silence. “...I hate you. I want to hate you so much. I want to scream and cry and a part of me wants to just tear you into little bloody pieces just so you can hurt and another wants you to finally leave and never come back like I’ve always wanted because you’ve ruined everything. None of this would have ever happened if it wasn’t for you. It’s all your fault and it’s always your fault because you’re an awful, selfish person and I wish…” she stopped short, but Virgil continued to look up at her, waiting for her to finish, “...I wish...I wish…” her voice dropped to whisper miserably, “...I wish you weren’t right…” She curled up her legs, burying her face into her knees as she folded into a ball. Her voice was a bare whisper, more to herself than anyone else, “I was going to...I could have...I would have...for…why...”
Virgil slowly stood up. He watched her with an expression of gentle sorrow as he gingerly sat down beside her, towards her back. “You can hate me, if that’s what you need. It’s ok. I don’t blame you. Suppose you could rip me apart some too, if you want. But, I’m still not going to leave. I promised I wouldn’t. I said I’d be your friend, and wouldn’t ever turn around and abandon you. So you aren’t alone.” 
After a long pause, Luna muttered, “...That’s not what you promised.”
“Huh?”
“You promised to prove me wrong,” she said, her voice still quiet. “I said I wouldn’t ever trust you, and you took it as a challenge and swore that you wouldn’t leave because you wouldn’t be told you couldn’t do something.”
“I…” Virgil stopped, a bit stunned at that statement. “I…” He turned away, lost in confused thought. He slowly folded over on himself, and after a long silence he said, “...I can’t change what I’ve said, or done. I’m sorry. For everything. I am.” He turned back towards her, “...I promise I won’t abandon you. For whatever that’s worth. I know horror. And loss, and pain. And evil, that creeps over you in ways you can’t see. And I won’t leave you in it alone. You or anyone else. I can’t fix all of it. Sometimes I can’t fix any of it. But, at least, you aren’t alone. That’s sometimes all I can do. But I will always do that.” Luna didn’t reply, other than to make small choking sobs to herself. A minute passed, and Virgil slowly, gingerly, lifted his hand to touch Luna’s shoulder comfortingly. She didn’t move one way or another, but continued to sob brokenly. Twisting himself to face her fully, he gently wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She continued to sob, but after a while, her stiffness softened as she leaned back into the embrace.
Category:Rise of the Runelords