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 Post subject: Journey's End - Please read content warning at top.
PostPosted: Wed Mar 07, 2012 5:45 pm 
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Joined: Mon May 09, 2005 6:15 pm
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OOC: Just want to give a /big/ warning that this is a fairly depressing read. If you can handle any of Feren's stories, it's pretty much along the same lines. A lot of you weren't familiar with Nirani at all, but once upon a time, she was IPA, and I've officially retired her character after some recent IC events. There are references to suicide and cutting in this, so just fair warning. It's also a completely POV piece.

TLDR: Read at your own risk.








Azshara was a good, safe place. No memories. There were no memories here, for her. Not with Xen, not with Meri. None that she could remember at the moment, anyway, and that was all that mattered. She never had a very good memory, anyway.

After landing, she unsaddled her hippogryph. Very carefully, she began removing every piece of leather and reinforced metal from the loyal animal and, then smoothed down all of her brightly colored feathers. The animal was worried, and Nirani knew it. She could sense it. She'd had her as her mount for a few years, now, and she'd come to be more than that. She was her friend.

“It's alright, Ayi,” Nirani murmured quietly, her fingers gently stroking over the animal's feathered cheeks. Closing her eyes, she leaned closer, tears streaming down her cheeks as she buried her face against Ayi's neck and, began to sob. Her whole body heaved, and after a few seconds she forced herself to remember to breathe. The hippogryph made a soft croon, rubbing her head against Nirani's shoulder in an effort to comfort the one she was closest to.

It was too much for her to bear. Everything fell apart, and it couldn't be fixed. The idea of it being beyond fixing was just too much, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear. She had given the communicator that every Razortalon kept back to Xenarr, because if she was no longer with Xenarr, there was no way she could possibly still be in the family. He had been it. Even when things were horrible, and silent, and brooding, he was it for her. He kept her there. And now he wasn't there, and she had no idea of what to do.

It was a more delirious, horrible feeling than she had even had when she thought her firstborn might die. It was worse than when she found Xenarr by the lake in Mulgore, not soon after leaving him and Meri for Feren, with blood pouring from his arm as he sobbed and cut into himself. It was even worse than the moment she realized exactly how much pain she had caused Merimu from that same choice. How she had broken him.

She was always selfish. She was childish. Immature. Over-emotional. For some strange reason, her friends stood by her so fiercely when she was barely an adult. It'd been almost a decade at this point, but just a few years short of it. She never really able to see how her actions affected others, or how much others truly cared for her. With Xenarr, she was all of things, but worse, and blinded and obsessed with a love that became so strong it consumed her very being.

Their love had never been easy. Ever. It always seemed to be going over hurdles, but Nirani never really gave up on it. Even when she went to Feren, trying to numb herself with the mistake she'd made. She disappeared into a state where she never hurt anyone she loved. When Xenarr found her, however, and eventually wanted her back, it wasn't even a decision to be made on her part. He would have her back, and she would even hurt Feren, because that was what she did. She hurt others.

The shaman reached down to squeeze the scruff of the hippogyph's feathers, and kissed Ayi's cheek before murmuring to her softly in Zandali, “Spirits guide you, Ayi. Go, and be free, like you were meant.” Her pale orange eyes met the gaze of the large animal's, who seemed to hesitate briefly, but ultimately knew what this meant. She really wouldn't be needed anymore. Letting out a soft chitter, Ayi rubbed the smooth part of her beak against Nirani's cheek, then stepped back. She tilted her head to the side, looking at her troll companion for a few seconds, then stretched her wings out and lifted up into the air. Within a few seconds, she was gone, and Nirani was alone.

5 children. 5 children, and she couldn't even find it in herself to be...reasonable, for them. Even when she thought she found a method of control, Xenarr always managed to find that part of her soul that made her insane. Irrational. Possessed. Obsessive. Hysterical. To think that he would would end it, however, never occurred to her. It was an uncomfortable, painful conversation. So much was said that Nirani never had a single clue about. Things that she had done...how they affected Xenarr. She was always so fearful of dealing with these issues, however, or things that had rooted them. Fearful, because she thought it might break apart. She never wanted to bother Xenarr, or bring up these conversations. He never dealt with them well in the past, so she simply stopped bringing them up after a while.

Then, Arothand. Ah. Lightsworn.

A frown tugged at her lips, and Nirani sat down on the soft grass, reaching up to begin unfastening the buckles of her various mail pieces.

It seemed everything leading up to this last decision was a result of Lightsworn. She should have killed him when she had the chance...for good. Forever. This still would have all likely happened, granted. She would have left, panicked about what she had done when she was numb with rage over Xenarr's state of shock at his death. His feeling of betrayal by a trusted ally, as he was murdered. At least one of the foundations would have been dead, though. Properly dead. Not some abomination of life who commands ghouls and death magic at will.

Her eyes stung as tears welled up once more, rolling down her cheeks and hitting her chest, now exposed and unprotected by her the armor that regularly protected it. “I'm sorry...” Her voice cracked, and she covered her face, leaning over and once again, unable to contain the sobs that made her entire body heave, and breathing hurt. “Spirits...what's become of me? These thoughts...” She glanced up, looking outward toward the water. It was evening now, and so, she could not actually see much at all.

What a pathetic thing she was. The realization hurt. Here she was, sitting in Azshara, in the dark of the night, alone. With no one. All of her friends were gone, dead, or now hated her, like Xenarr. Merimu would no doubt not contact her. She was realizing it now. Xenarr came first, he was there first, and he was his brother. Why would he have any interest in carrying on with her anymore, if she was no longer with Xenarr? The talk two days ago was bittersweet. It was a truly intense talk, and Meri opened up more easily to her, and she to him, than ever before...but she also sensed a change of emotion behind him she never had prior. He would try, like he promised, to salvage what remained between them, but it would ultimately fail. Keeping up a friendship would have been possible, 2 days ago. If he had chosen to end it between them. She had given up most hope of that continuing, either way...so a friendship would have been a gift from the Earthmother herself. Now, though, that was not an option. Xenarr hated her. She did something horrible. Meri would not let that go very easily. With good reason.

Worse yet, how could she possibly face the children now? Avoid Meri and Xen, at every turn? Run off every time they came home? What kind of mother was she really, in the end? A pathetic, mess of a child, who ruined those who loved her the most, and was now running away, forever.

It was definitely better this way. There was no doubt. Isha would remember a mother who loved her, who did everything for her, and not what she was inevitably going to become. Even if Meri choose not to contact her, she would write one more letter. Lie. Tell her mom finally had met true death. Don't tell her it was self-inflicted, and she loved her. So much. The younger ones were still far too little to understand it. There was no telling if Meri would choose to do this or not, but she prayed with her heart he would. She had worked so hard to make herself appear a certain way in front of Isha and the babies. Strong, loving, giving, and full of vigor. Someone who would stop at nothing nothing to protect the family. It was difficult, maintaining that, because it was not who she was. Not in the least. Life would have been so much easier if she were, really. It was a shame she was not.





Curled up in the grass, she blinked slowly as she felt the cold rain drizzling down over her. She had passed out at some point. The last few hours had been spent trying to alleviate some of the hurt, but without much avail. Much like Xenarr said, she always found an escape that was rarely ever healthy. It hadn't been any different recently. The cutting had helped so much the last week. It gave her a sense of control, to be able to do that...endure the pain, and it made everything else feel...normal. For the first time in months, she felt somewhat more of her old self, even if a bit tired of, well. Everything.

The blood that coated her arms and legs while she slept began to moisten and slip down onto the grass. Her eyes hurt. She could feel they were swollen, and they refused to open all the way. By now, she could feel the dull throbbing at the back of her head from her earlier sobbing. Her cheeks and nose stung from how much she had cried. As the rain came down harder, she couldn't help but wonder if the Earthmother was trying to replenish what moisture she had lost. She still felt empty, numb, and dry. There was no crying anymore, and even the thought of her children wasn't enough to bring back any sense of fulfillment.

Nearly an hour passed from the time she woke up. She did not move, resting on her side, with her arms curled up even with her head. Staring at her hands, she watched them go from blood-caked, to clean and fresh, like nothing had happened. A soft stinging was felt as the rain ran over and into the cuts that laced her limbs.

There was no telling what time it was. It was still dark, and for whatever reason, she had found herself unable to simply take the little vial she had. At least there would be one thing she'd have found the Royal Apothecary Society useful for in her life. Maybe she was nervous of the pain, because the poison was meant for Alliance, and most certainly was not intended for an sort of quick, easy passing.

At this point, she was simply too exhausted to move. The idea of getting the vial, which sat only a few feet away, felt as tiring as a days' journey at this moment. Some time passed, before she finally forced herself to move, pushing herself into a sitting position with her legs folded in front of her. Picking up the small vial, she cupped it in her hands as they settled into her lap, and she finally glanced upward toward the sky. She found herself surprised by the creeping threat of light far off in the distance. The whole night had passed, and she had assumed she would have gone through with it by now.

The urge to see the sunrise suddenly struck her, however. It wouldn't be long, now. 10 minutes? Maybe 15. Just about right. She was told the poison would not take more than 5 minutes to work on a troll. So she sat. Her thoughts didn't focus on Xenarr, or Merimu, or her children. Not anymore. She was as good as gone at this point, and her mental state had simply become a clock, counting the seconds until she would be able to take the vial, leaving just enough time to see the sunrise.

A cold numbness settled into her body as she finally opened the lid, her face a mask as she raised the glass to her lips. Without hesitation, she swallowed the contents, not noticing the distinct lack of any flavor to it. Normally, she would have noticed the lack of flavor was for the purpose of being undetectable to the Alliance, so they wouldn't notice they were going to possibly ingest something dangerous. Her mind was devoid of any such thought, however, and she sat in place, staring at the horizon with a vacant gaze. There was an unnerving feeling that began to spread throughout her body, however, as the sun finally began to peek into her field of vision. It was definitely not painless. Leave it up to the Society not to leave such a thing merciful. Seemingly beyond her control, a choked noise came from her throat, and she found herself unable to sit up any longer, collapsing on her side and suddenly crying out as the fire raced through her veins. What was it?! Not soon after, controlled movement seemed impossible. Her breathing was pained, and she could barely keep her eyes open. It was truly an unrivaled sort of pain, that seemed to consume her entire mental and emotional being. It probably did, too. The RAS loved toying with magical poisons, after all.

It had not been a full five minutes. They were wrong on that. She at least saw the sunrise, however. At that very moment that was all that mattered, and as such, she was happy.


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