Day 1 of posting/writing a short story every day based on writing prompts so I can improve the way I sound through practice and sheer will…
The Prompt: “Why do you care so much?”
“Why do you care so much? It’s just an amulet.”
Haelynn interrupted her, slamming his sword into the fragile stonework. It cracked the gorgeous mosaic, splitting the Lathander’s face in two. His sword clattered to the ground, Haelynn following along behind it. The metal slam of his armour was sudden and caused Eemeus to flinch.
There was a moment of stillness between the two. The air grew thick, so thick that you’d have to use a steaming hot blade to cut it.
“I do it all for him. All of- All of this. Every single second.”
Haelynn gestured around the temple. His hand wavering over the worshipping place, the idols and statutes and symbols of his God. The sun shone through the stained glass windows, covering his face with glimmers of gold, a deep crimson and a deep orange.
Ermeus hesitantly reached her hand toward, stopping himself before she got too close. She took note of Haelynn’s disposition, wondering if she should fill the empty space with a joke or ask if he’s okay.
“I don’t even worship Lathander.”
The words hit Ermeus like a brick to the temple. Not worship Lathander? That’s all he ever talks about. This couldn’t be right. Surely she must have misheard him.
“I said, I don’t even fucking worship Lathander. Sure, his teachings are… Fine, but it’s- It’s not…”
The subtle sounds of Haelynn’s armour clanking together softly as he shook and let out a deep guttural sobbing. He was sputtering barely comprehensible sentences, stringing together words that Ermeus couldn’t understand.
She took a gentle knee beside him, looking him up and down before gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time ever since they’d been together adventuring. His long blonde hair was unkempt, covering half of his face as he wept. His large gold armour hardly did anything to hide the pathetic mess he was making of himself. Branded on every single piece was Lathander’s symbol, a constant reminder of who he supposedly worshipped. Ermeus brought her other hand up to his face, gently pushing the hair out of his face and cupping his cheek. She looked into his deep hazel eyes, running her thumb along the large scar across his chin.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
And for the first time since they met, Haelynn met her eyes. Her deep, ocean eyes. He looked at her sky blue skin, dotted with darker blue freckles. Her short shoulder length hair, a deep cyan, only separated by her horns that curled inwards into large spikes resembling a heart. He looked at her navy hooded cloak, and her leather armour that ever so slightly didn’t fit, as if bought secondhand.
They positioned themselves against the temple walls, facing the open doorway. Haelynn kept his hand on the hilt of his sword attached to his waist, still shaking.
Ermeus crossed her legs and stared up at the ceiling, occasionally glancing over. Not wanting to push away this opportunity to get to know her travelling companion.
“I grew up in High Bridge, the ‘golden city’.”
“That posh place with all those rich twats?”
Haelynn stifled a laugh, sniffling.
High Bridge is a grand city, one place that many people find themselves venturing to for endless riches, but most find themselves freezing to death on the streets as people throw you out of your home you can barely afford. It’s known for its extreme wealth but high death rate.
“I was born there, too. My father was rich, and owned a few companies here and there. Sent me to study at a private academy so one day I could ‘take over the family business.’”
Haelynn sighed, slicking back his hair over his face, leaving only his one signature strand. It swayed slightly in the summer breeze as he tilted his head forward.
Ermeus questioned, titling her head to the side, her heart-tipped tail pattering gently backwards and forwards behind her, hitting against the stonework with a soft thud.
“Nelaros was… My best friend. A high elf, like me… Only he had the most gorgeous black hair you’ve ever seen. He always tied it upwards into a bun and stuck pencils into it. I told him it looked stupid but…”
Haelynn’s face flushed ever so slightly as he caught himself rambling, coughing into his gauntlet as he attempted to continue.
“Right. Nelaros. Black hair, green eyes, short. He always supported me in my endeavours, I talked to him about wanting to explore the world, and all he talked about was wanting to open up a monastery somewhere far away, somewhere people could go if they needed help.”
Ermeus’s eyes widened, her tail stopped moving and her heart began to race. She felt the heavy weight of the amulet in her pocket as she glanced around at the many depictions of Lathander, glaring at her as if she had offended him personally.
“One day, I asked him if he wanted to explore with me. He said he couldn’t.”
The air grew still again, but it was filled with sorrow instead of anger.
“He was getting married. Eliza Thistleberry. A rich good-for-nothing wood elf with ties to an ‘ethical’ lumber company.”
Ermeus moved closer, resting her head onto his cold metal shoulder plate, wrapping her arms around his, attempting to comfort him.
“He did build his monasteries. Two, or three. And then he died.”
Ermeus shuddered and snapped her head to look at Haelynn, her reaction was written clear as day all over her face.
“Someone set his monastery on fire. Burnt him, his wife and his two children along with plenty of clergymen alike… I could see it from High Bridge in the distance. I ran and ran until I couldn’t anymore. I knew then that I had to pick up where he left off. Helping people, doing what he would have wanted.”
“But wouldn’t he have wanted you to be happy?”
Haelynn just stared forward, his face expressionless as it was most of the time. He could feel his heart in his throat and the room was starting to close in on itself.
“If he wanted me to be happy he would have just said yes. I spent hundreds of years searching for him in this and only found Lathander’s light, and it wasn’t enough.”
He snapped, gripping his sword. He was struggling to swallow, and he could feel his breathing getting shallower and quicker.
Ermeus grabbed Haelynn’s hand and cupped his face once more, getting up onto her knees so she could see him.
“I think he would be proud of you. But he also sounds like he’d want you to do what makes you happy, Haelynn. And who knows… Maybe you’ll find him in every thing you do? A little piece of him? I know I feel that way about my mother.”
Haelynn lunged forward and pulled Ermeus into a tight hug, she yelped as she was grabbed but eventually relented, running her hands through his hair like a mother does with her scared child.
“I’ll always be here adventuring with you, Haelynn. I’m no Nelaros but-“
“No. You’re not… But you’re Ermeus, and that’s all I could ever ask of you.”
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