Genesis 070

Feb. 6th, 2006 08:22 pm
[identity profile] annarti.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] yrae
Title~ Blame
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ They're mine
Notes~ Genesis 070. There seems to be something of a trend with my fics lately. They're either incredibly depressing, or incredibly cracky. This~ is a depressing one, oh yeah. What a disturbingly appropriate song, thank you Winamp XD;

~ ~ ~


Rumal raked his fingers through his hair, wincing when some strands caught on the raw stump of his right little finger, sending pain lancing up his arm anew. He clenched his eyes shut tight and bit his bottom lip. His missing finger barely touched on the pain of the past few days.

He dropped his hands down, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at but not seeing the raw, exposed flesh of his right hand.

Kaen sat down heavily next to him, and both sat in silence as the rest of the Own began digging somewhere in the tress.

Rumal had ridden with the Own for eight years, and had buried a number of his friends in that time. He’d never get used to it, and to be perfectly honest he didn’t want to. Naraan though… Naraan’s death had been different.

“You’re going to have to get that seen to when we get to Silrona,” Kaen told him, but his voice was flat, with no emotion behind it. He was just talking for the sake of it. Typical blade archer.

Rumal nodded, massaging the heel of his palm with his left thumb. It was flaring up again, which subsequently brought back the memories and made it hurt even more. It was a vicious cycle.

“It wasn’t your fault, quael.”

“It was.” The swordsman gave a heavy but shaky sigh, hanging his hands loosely over his knees and staring off into the trees at the dull coloured shirts beyond. “If I’d just deflected that Aeia-damned arrow…”

“Rumal, you couldn’t have known.”

“I should have though. I’m trained for this kind of stuff, Kaen. I could have just lifted my sword, gotten a tiny nick on the arrow and it would have been fine. Why in Lin’s sweet name didn’t I?”

“You lost your finger!”

“And he lost his life. Who’s worse off?”

Kaen sighed and shook his head, but obeyed Rumal’s unspoken request for silence.

Rumal couldn’t stop the scene playing over in his mind, again and again, watching the arrow as it was released from the Kazinian bow, feeling the confused frown on his brow when it was obvious that the arrow wasn’t going to hit him, the shock of pain that lanced up his arm as he lifted his sword against the black horse rider… and now, two days later, the still and silent body of his friend, completely bereft of life.

He caught his head in his hands again, ignoring the pain where there should have been a finger, and the blade archer’s comforting slap on his shoulders.

“Stop killing yourself, Rumal. It wasn’t your fault.”

People were going to keep telling him that, Rumal knew it, but no matter how many times he was told he’d never be able to believe it. None of them had been there except him. Even Kaen had been over the other side of the small clearing, dealing with his own attackers. Rumal was the only one who could ever know.

Date: 2006-02-06 04:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] drazzi.livejournal.com
You're so good at the angsty fics though

Poor Rumal *pets*

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