8. Max

(( The names in italics at the start of each post denote the author. ))

Fenuviel

Fenuviel had given up trying to reason with Lester. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure why he had wanted to.

Perhaps he was just feeling belligerent enough that he was willing to take up any argument, even if he didn't care what he was saying. The man had provoked him, but at least Lester would get away without any actual marks or scars, just a stinging cheek and somewhat saddened heart, as it were. “Poor Jaqi…” Fenuviel had taunted over and over again. He doubted Lester would change. It didn't matter.

In the forests of Elwynn now, Fenuviel turned away from Lester as he felt a familiar presence at his back. The moonlight lit up the figure of a young Elven woman in rugged leather armor, her dark hair drawn back in a braid. At her hips were an axe and a sword. Prepared. Namaxe. Ah yes… she had met him only two days ago, only once, but there had been something strange there. He had felt as though he knew her, for longer. But she had met Fenuviel Heartsong.

Not quite Darksworn yet, still mourning what he could not have from the Sphere, and that he could never leave; still trying to warn her that others bearing the mark of the Sphere would not be quite as polite as he. Watch out.

How ironic that now he was like any one of them. Watch out for me. She couldn't see it, not quite. Namaxe stepped carefully closer, seeming a bit unsure as she saw Lester, though the man took a few steps back. Out of the moonlight. And he was gone.
"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," Max spoke quietly as she approached who she thought might be her friend. Darksworn shook his head, watching the sneak in the shadows, until even his keen eyes couldn't pick out where Lester had gotten to. He turned his gaze back to Max instead.
"You are not," he replied. She smiled.
"I just saw you here, and I thought..."
"I doubt I'm the one you were looking for," Fenuviel answered coldly. Max peered at him for a moment in silence, searching, somewhat puzzled by this.
"Fenuviel...?"
Darksworn nodded slightly.
"Yes. But not the one you met a few days ago. I have changed," he answered. She questioned him, if he had kindness still. He had been so nice.
"Fenuviel Heartsong betrayed the woman he loved, all for foolish hopes and dreams. He could not live with the loathing he felt for himself after this, and so your friend has died. And I am Darksworn," he explained to her.
"So you have changed... is it for... the better?" she questioned. Fenuviel could hear Lester's muffled voice from somewhere clearly stating 'No!!' but he ignored him.
"The Sphere would say yes... but tell me, you believe in kindness? And mercy?" he questioned. Max nodded confidently. Fenuviel grinned behind his mask.
"Then I should think you would say no," he answered. And then... it happened. She asked him the question he had asked Shagrath, so very... very long ago.

"Are you happy?"

Darksworn didn't even need a moment to think how to answer.
"No," he replied bluntly. "But neither was Heartsong. I do not seek happiness. I live merely to serve," he answered.

She frowned. He knew what she was thinking, for they had discussed it before.
"I serve only myself and those that would serve me. I am my own master, and I do want happiness and love," she answered.
"That is why our paths are separate," Fenuviel explained. He could see her shifting somewhat uncomfortably in front of him, looking at him and then away, frowning, trying to find a way with her words.
"But I do feel, and..." She trailed off, seeming unsure how to word her thoughts, or if she even wanted to.

Darksworn watched her closely, and offered some answers for her to choose from.
"What, Max? Do you want to love me? Save me? Be my friend? Kill me?" he asked. Max looked up to him, still slightly uncertain, though she shook her head quickly at the last.
"Surely not the last… but the others. I don't know... I've only just met you," she answered. "But I can't help wondering... there's something behind the mask,"

Darksworn reached up to pull the white mask down from over his nose, revealing his full face. It was Fenuviel's face. But the eyes were dead, cold. Powerful.
"You mustn't care for me. I have nothing to return. It would be easier for you to hate me," he murmured. Max frowned at him, shaking her head.
"I couldn't hate you..." she answered. This time Fenuviel's grin was free for her to see, wicked, dark at his own thoughts.
"I could make you hate me..." he trailed off. He could have made her love him. Made her believe he loved her, and then revealed what he was. Broken her heart. Then you would hate me, Max. I could do it.
"Do not love me, Max," he stated suddenly. "It will only bring you pain. I know what it is to care for someone who returns no love,"
"I can't stop caring.." she protested quietly, staring him straight in the eyes. Darksworn stared back, and for a moment, so did Heartsong.
"I know," Heartsong answered. "But it will destroy you. As it's destroyed me," No, no, Darksworn. It destroyed him.

Quietly now:

"I don't know why I tell you this. Perhaps it is a lingering desire of Heartsong's to spare you. You should take this warning to heart! A warning... it is more than anyone gave to me..."

Max watched him closely, and the moonlight glinted on moisture in her eyes as she searched hard in his own for... something. Anything.
"Do you feel...anything?" she questioned. Fenuviel watched her quietly for a moment before he answered her.
"Nothing, Max. I care for no one, only my master. I live to do his bidding," he replied. Hate me. Save yourself.

"I-I... I think I should go now," Max stammered. Fenuviel nodded distractedly as a thought began to arise in his mind, not noticing that she had suddenly began to approach him. He was jerked from his thoughts as he felt a kiss on his cheek. Darksworn stared hard at Namaxe, watching her recoil slightly in a mixture of sadness, surprise, and possibly fear. "I'm sorry… I just..." she stammered.
"Go," he replied simply. Somehow it lacked his former commanding tone. It was almost defeated, pleading. Get out of here, Max! And she was gone. Down the path. He heard her weeping quietly. He watched something of himself walk away.

Fenuviel Heartsong, who had only been searching for a family, and instead he had found no brother nor father. He had been given Shagrath. I know what it's like, Max, to care for someone made of stone. Fenuviel released a shuddering sigh at his realization.

I've become just like him. Stone. Empty. A heart eroded away to dust.  

How can anyone love ones like us? How could I have? I promised I'd never become like you, Master. I'd always be there, to save you. And now I've become you. Have I failed or have I won?

Max

"I could make you hate me."

The words haunted Namaxe's thoughts. She played them back in her thoughts over and over again, even though she tried to think of something else desperately.

No. Why would he want to? Why would he... even try..?

Namaxe let out a frustrated sigh and let herself fall on her back, her feet still hanging in the pond she was sitting at.

Laying on her back, she looked at the sky, the early morning purple looking down on her, whispering her to forget...

There are so many others. Why this one? Why don't you go to the next town and find a man, who won't give you all the talk about evil and serving dark warlocks. You've had loves and lovers, and you'll have more. Why don't you just... forget?

"Because I can't!" she threw out frustratedly, as if trying to shut herself up.

Her companion and friend Fly, a lion, who was lying comfortably beside her, raised his head suddenly, wondering what that outburst was about. He looked at her for a moment, and then rolled over, moving his furry body against her.

'For crying out loud, I won't even listen to my own reasoning.' she thought to herself, while she turned to the lion and scratched him on his belly.

He was different. He... he was nice.

He was... He changed.

'No.' she thought. 'He did feel something... I felt it, in his body, when I... when I kissed him. I felt it. He felt it.'

He just didn't want to feel it. He has chosen another path, one where I cannot... no... one where he doesn't want me to follow.

Max subconsciously squeezed Fly's fur while trying to suppress fresh tears being born in her eyes. She failed. A tear fell on the grass and a soft sob escaped her.

Namaxe had had lovers, and she had loved some of them. Some were just for the night, some meant something more and were around for a bit longer. Some intrigued her to no end and received all she could give.

Why did it have to be him...? He who didn't want to receive it.

The feeling of rejection hurt, more than she knew it would. Normally she was the one doing the rejecting. She was quite aware of her own appearance and quite aware that she looked good. She didn't take advantage of that, but she was still quite picky about who she chose to share a bed with.

Usually the rejection came from her end. Now this one... This one, with eyes that look right through her, this one she wanted. This one she had seen only twice, and even though they shared different ideas about just about everything, this one had made an impression. She was intrigued more than she'd like to admit. She had told him that and he had seen it.

She could still feel her lips brushing against his skin. She could feel it when she closed her eyes. The warmth of his cheek was a bitter contrast to the emptiness of his voice a moment later.

"Go."

It was like he didn't want to say it. It was like he didn't want her to go, but still had to tell her. That multiplied her pain.

She opened her eyes and stared into the bright early morning light.

'Darksworn may have told me to go, but Heartsong is the one I'll remember...'

Fenuviel


Fenuviel had been startled somehow when he felt the kiss upon his cheek. For a moment he saw himself in Loch Modan again. For once, finally with Ayuria, when all truths were revealed. When no one was there to know that she had returned. He could feel her lips upon his own. For just a moment. Before she had rode away and left him there... tormented by the knowledge that he would betray her. That he would tell Shagrath about her, even when she had begged him not to. How long could he avoid his master..? It did not matter. He would do it. He hated himself. Hate was too weak a word. He loathed himself with every fiber of his being. Was that where this anger came from..?

But Max was walking away. Good. Get away, you aren't safe with me. He could still feel where she had kissed him upon the cheek, could still feel Ayuria's lips on his own. How could so many love him? What did they hope for? Could they not feel the emptiness within him? Or was it that they wished to remedy? Fools! He had been there, tried that! It didn't work. It would still get him a fist to the jaw if he didn't serve his master well enough.

Perhaps he would have to let Max meet Darkfang. Then she'd understand. She'd see who he had loved, she'd see what she would become. Why can't you understand there is no hope, Max? There never was. He had failed trying, and I won.

Why does this victory not please me? Why am I still so...

Unhappy.  

Why does it matter so much? I said I didn't want happiness. Do I still yearn for something to fill me and give me purpose? Quiet boy, this is your place. Do as your told. It doesn't matter what you want. Yes.

*     *     *

With every fiber of his being, Fenuviel wished that they would leave him alone. Though the sword pointed at his crotch was a bit hard to ignore. How could Winterblade not see in his eyes that there was no longing? Not even lust for anything? But she refused to take no for an answer. She wanted him to romance Max, even if only for lust, to break her heart, for she had seen them talking. If only Winterblade had understood what they had been saying, that he had been trying to push her away, not to win her! Sly had even threatened to use his 'lighter' on Fenuviel, to which he felt a slight pang of anger and pain, betrayed somehow. Sly had been a friend of Heartsong's. Would he really do it? The bursts of flame at least gave enough of a distraction for Fenuviel to get away, just as Max was coming back.

"Are you alright?" she asked, baffled and concerned.
"Am I ever?" replied Darksworn, pushing past her to exit the building onto the street. He heard Winterblade sigh in disappointment at his refusal to treat Max with any sense of politeness or warmth. He could see the flaming glint behind him of Winterblade's sword, though Sly stopped her. He said he'd pay her a gold never to touch his friend Fenuviel. Fenuviel almost laughed, but his eyes were upon Max's. Why did he feel the need to agree to Winterblade's wish? Not for her, but... Because it would hurt Max more to see Fenuviel Heartsong again if it was only for one moment and never again? Perhaps.

"I'll let you have Heartsong for one day," he said suddenly. Max looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean..?"
"I'll let him be free. Whatever is left of him. It is your choice..." Darksworn replied with a slight snap.
"I... want to see him," Max agreed. Darksworn nodded. He knew where to go. Somewhere that would cause Heartsong enough pain that he would become conscious again. The Cathedral, the catacombs, where Fenuviel Heartsong had died.

Let Fenuviel tell her himself what an awful creature he had become.

*     *     *

"Kiss me, Max," Fenuviel Heartsong spoke softly in Darnassian, as she now found him having leant quite close to her. She widened her eyes slightly in surprise.
"W-What...?" she stammered with a faint blush, but he did not falter.
"Kiss me," he said again. Max paused for a moment, and then she lifted a hand to touch his cheek gently, leaning down to press her lips against his own, breathing in deeply. Fenuviel pressed back into the kiss almost passionately, though he drew back after a moment. Her eyes were still closed, lingering with the sensation. When she opened them, she found Fenuviel staring back at her still in seriousness.
"Can you feel the betrayal upon these lips, Max?"
She sighed.
"No, I cannot..."
"These lips betrayed the same one that kissed them before," he answered. He told her of all that had happened. How he had condemned the woman he loved to a similar fate he now suffered, though most likely worse. Darksworn was not as malicious as Darkfang, merely kept him silent. He suffered enough. "Existence alone is agony..."

There came the sound of a half-hearted applause at his back. He whipped his head about to see Winterblade sitting upon one of the coffins, looking unimpressed. There was a burst of flame from the other corner, and Sly appeared, attempting to light his pipe.
"The agreement was to take her out for the night, not to tell sob stories," Winterblade complained.

Fenuviel stood sharply to his feet, glaring hard at Winterblade. He should have known. There was nowhere safe from ears. But this was the final straw.
"Damn you all..." he sighed. Had he come back just to be humiliated? He wished that at least Sly could have understood all he said, not Winterblade. She could never understand quite what had happened. Sly would have. Sly apologized, but Fenuviel merely glared at him. If you were sorry, if you were true friend, you wouldn't have done this.

"You too, Sly," Fenuviel growled. "Damn you. Damn you all!"

He tore for the stairs, fleeing the Cathedral. He could hear Sly chasing him, but it didn't matter. Darksworn would return soon. He just wanted to get away, to steal a few moments for himself, before it as all over.