#day262020

[tristennedarkmorn]

Day 26 - Trust @daily-writing-challenge​ Co-written by @taricdarkmorn​ for his Day 26 as well!

Red leaned against the railing and stared out towards the moonlit sea; lips parted into an ‘O’ before exhaling a smoke ring that framed the White Lady perfectly.  Booty Bay had always been a crew favorite, there was never a dull moment at The Salty Sailor.  Even now in the dead of night, the dull roar from the tavern carried all the way over to Taric’s small apartment above his shop. 

All pretenses had been set aside between the two, there were more important things happening in the world.  They both knew they were related, and everyone that knew the both of them also knew that they were related. It was obvious by their similar hair alone, but the smile sealed the deal. Why hide it from each other? There was no sense in denying it now, two Darkmorns were better than one in this particular situation anyways.

Not that Red would ever say it aloud, nor would Taric.  He used his mother, Melidoria’s surname, so as far as anyone else may have been concerned, Red was also a Sunflare. It would usually take him a long time to trust another, but there was something about Taric; he immediately seemed dependable and honest.  Plus, they shared a mutual bitterness towards Turiil; Red’s brother and Taric’s father.

“You knew her?  My mom?”

Red turned to face the younger Darkmorn, nodding.  “Yes, while Turiil was courting her. I always thought she was too good for him, but then again I thought that about any woman that he ever dated.”

“What was he like?”  Taric had never met Turiil.  His mother became pregnant with him while out of wedlock, and in those days that was highly frowned upon. A shotgun wedding was out of the question, so Turiil ditched her.  He didn’t know much of the man beyond that, his mother didn’t like to speak of him and he didn’t want to press because he knew it would upset her.

“Shit…” Red grumbled, tiling his head upwards to exhale a cloud of red smoke.  “You may as well be asking what Sargeras is like.” 

This elicited a bark of laughter from Taric.  “Fuck.”  He shook his head, kicking his feet up onto the railing and crossing his legs at the ankle.

“Yeah, be glad that he ghosted your mom.  She dodged a bullet on that one.”  Red stubbed out his cigarette, silently considering what to say about that horrible, monstrous man.  “Umm.  Well, he was a fucking genius.  Runs in the family.” He flashed an arrogant smirk, “He played the noble game extremely well, everyone ‘loved’ him.” Finger quotes went around the word loved.  “He practiced blood magic.”

Both of Taric’s brows raised, his look of surprise clearly suggesting that he had no idea. “That also something that runs in the family?”

“Not for me at least.  Are you…”

“No, no.  I mean, I suppose it’s possible but I’ve never tried. I umm…”  Taric’s gaze drifted off towards the horizon, narrowing his eyes at the distant storm clouds. “I guess what I have is more elemental.”

“Huh…”  Red smiled knowingly, “Like your gr-”

“Great-grandfather.  Mhm, he told me as much.  It’s part of the package deal.” Taric gestured towards his heterochromatic eye.

“Lightning attracted to you too?”

Taric nodded, gesturing to the green fern-like pattern tattooed on his right arm. “From the first time it happened.  Didn’t think it would happen again.  And again...and again.”  He paused, twisting his lips into an overexaggerated frown.  “And again.”  The man had a rough time discovering all of his new powers and ‘quirks’ on his own. Even now he was still figuring it all out, but now he had Red.  It was a comforting feeling, having another living Darkmorn to talk to, and it seemed that Red felt the same.

“Sucks to be you.” Red jested with an impish grin. 

“Well at least I’m not an impassive asshole.” Taric jested right back at him with that same grin. 

They were going to get along well.

[kharrisdawndancer]

Contrition

Tears wouldn’t have helped; she did not cry. Khaeris didn’t drag her feet as she left Aerden’s. She’d done what she’d set out to do, and she felt lighter with it out in the open. She didn’t feel good, but she did feel she was in forward motion. She didn’t always consider herself the most honest person, but she could have lied about this and been reasonably sure it wouldn’t bite her in the bum.

The walk home had been a different sort of walk of shame, but at least nothing was festering. The boil had been lanced, and now it would heal or it would not. Her mouth twisted; what a gruesome way of thinking about it.

She rolled her lips and moved on toward the Shielded Mind. She had work to do, life would go on. Aerden was not the type to be malicious, but she noted how she had likely cut herself off from him. Perhaps like she’d done with others fairly recently. Friendly. No friends. The pattern was apparent. That’s just what she did, apparently. She accepted it, even if it gave her twinges of difficult to manage emotions. Narrowly, she avoided the old ruts of ‘All I do it hurt people’, ‘I’m terrible’, ‘They’d be better off without me.’ Consciously she silenced those tracks and consciously she quieted her spirit.

One more thing she couldn’t take back. One more thing she had screwed up. Trust was easy to wound, hard to heal. Time would tell where it went from here.

@daily-writing-challenge

mentions: @aerdendios