âItâs over.â Spoke a man that looked like he could strangle his dinner with nothing but his bare hands. Gaves looked up at the voice with swollen, red eyes. âFawk you.â Â The bard hissed in a hoarse voice. The gruffer voice shot back a sinister laugh as his wide, intimidating frame layed against a wall that was shrouded with shadows. âI told you.â It teased, a single, fat finger poking out just enough for the fireplaceâs light to illuminate the outline. âI told you it was a waste, that youâre not supposed to love anyone. A mistake is what you are.â Gaves grabbed an empty bottle of Dalarn red by the neck that was laying down on the stained covers of the couch, and chucked it the large man. âFawk you, dad!â The glass passed through the thick chested man like a mirage, splintering into glass dust. The last remnants of the dark red liquid trickled down the wall, staining it forever. Wine was a pain to remove. âWhy so mad, Gaves? You got what you wanted?â His father was leaning forward from behind the couch, a few inches away from Gavesâ ear. âFree to fuck just like you wanted, right?â Gaves answered with a right fist that slashed through nothing. âGet out!â He barked before collapsing back into his âspotâ on the couch. It sat between the two cushions, perfectly aligned with the center of the fireplace.
She left with a letter. There wasnât a kiss, hug goodbye, or even a night to hold her one more time. It would have felt better if she told him that she hated him, that she was tired of his antics. That Gaves could understand. But it wasnât hate, or malice that was woven into those beautiful hand written letters, no. It was regret, regret of what she had done to him. Gaves came home earlier that day, exhausted as always. Yet again, another house had chose to not pledge their support to the R.R.F. Instead choosing to⌠'better manage their funds elsewhereâ. As if. Gaves thought helping the poor was heroic, wasnât it? Closing the door behind him he strolls over to the kitchen table which had been uncharacteristically straightened up. Why, Gaves thought. Inspecting the 'damageâ he discovers a single piece of paper folded in half, the outside of it reading 'For Gavesâ. Naturally Gaves took it as a love letter; maybe Miersae had finally learned how to write a poem, he thought. Picking up the parchment, he unfolds it, and begins to read. Annoyance overtook him first; this was not how you made a poem⌠but then it struck Gaves that this wasnât a poem. A blistering cold sensation stuck him in the gut, like a knife, chilling his very core as his breathing stopped. His heart banged against his chest like a war drum, it was almost louder than the crackling fire. Panicked sea-green eyes traced over the outlines of letters, racing to the end, hoping, praying that this was a joke. Some sick twisted joke. 'Iâll always love you.â it ended with, but not without a signature from Miersae herself. Gavesâ hands shook violently as his mind raced; at this point he had forgotten to inhale. The letter fell loose from his grasp, and fell silently to the floor.
His first reaction was to race to the bedroom, tearing open the door to search for her belongings. First, the dresser. Gripping the handles, he pulled each drawer out completely searching about for something of hers, anything. Nothing. Again, he tried, repeating the process with each level. His fears were confirmed as piles of wood layed atop each other with assorted articles of clothing tossed about. It was all his, and none of hers. Wide eyes targeted the wardrobe. Something in there, there had to be, he said to himself. Leaping over the mess, he pulled a door off its hinge, throwing it behind him towards the pile of wood. Ravaging hands pulled his own clothing off, ripping most of them at the collar; he couldnât wait to take them off the hangar. Down the line he went, checking, inspecting⌠all his. A hand slams the wardrobe shut, shattering the mirror inlayed on the outside of it. Two heels whirl around, and Gaves launches himself over the bed, and towards her night table. Again, he pulls the drawer out of the socket, checking it⌠clean. Gaves cried out in agony, throwing the drawer across the room. For several minutes Gaves layed on top of his bed, rubbing his eyes raw as he cried like a child.
After an hour of running his voice sore Gaves finally picked himself up, ruined. That was it, he thought. The woman he loved. The woman he gave up everything for. The woman he wanted to die with. The woman he couldnât see tomorrow without⌠gone. A weary eye looked around for a sharp object, Gaves considering just plunging a dagger into his heart; what was the point of going on? This woman was his life, the sole reason of his existence. The woman he stopped running around with, that he pledged himself, and all of himself towards. Mechanical body movement kept Gaves going, forcing him to go the winerack, and pull off the last remaining bottle of Dalaran Red. Gaves stared at the dark red liquid; Miersae loved Dalaran red. It wasnât hers, but it was the closest thing to, Gaves said. Moving to the crackling couch, Gaves sat down; but there was something particular about his spot. He didnât choose a side, and rather sat down the middle, lining up between the two cushions. He uncorked  the welcoming aroma which wafted up towards the ceiling. Gaves looked upwards, staring at the orange flame. The sun was setting now, and soon he would be surrounded by darkness, all for except this fireplace, which never stopped running. It was the only real constant thing in his life, now. That fireplace. Always on when he needed it. It would never go out, not until Gaves wanted it to. With a sniffle, he lifted the wine bottle up to his lips, preparing him to weep for the next several hours.
The first of the wineâs trickles reached the wooden floorboards, starting to pool at the base of the wall. Gaves blinked, realizing what he had done. Miersae would have scolded hi- Miersae⌠Gaves remembered now. In a brief moment he had forgotten how the pang of loss felt. It came rushing back now, all too keen on reminding him that he was, infarct, destined to cry alone. Standing up, Gaves moved himself back towards the ruined bedroom with slow steps. âD'aww⌠poor Gavey has his heart broken?â Mocked his father who seemed to just a foot behind him. âDid you really think a -COUNTESS- would stay with you?â Dark laughter filled the room as Gaves passed through the unhinged bedroom door, his head hanging low. âGet real, Hillvack. Of course she wouldaâ ran away with a Lord, OF COURSE!â His father sounded so sure of himself, like Gaves had just stuck his hand in a fire. âWhat could you have done, hmm? Love? Psssh, as if⌠Nobody wants your love.â The voice grew cold as Gavesâ father reappeared in front of the ruined wardrobe. âTook everything too, so you donât gottaâ feel bad- The bitch is doing you a favor.â Gaves walked by the vision, and stepped over the pile of wooden drawers. He was moving towards his own night table. âTook her away like a prize, too, mmm⌠TOOK HER AWAY FROM A CHUMP!â The image screamed in front of Gaves, leaning into the bellow, but Gaves didnât bother with it. It was the voice that always tormented him, that hindered him, burdened his choices. The bard reached down, pulling open the nigh table.
Amongst the mess of pencils, note pads, and assorted candy layed two, small, black, felt boxes that opened at a hinge. They were lying underneath a very used pair of red trunks. Gaves picked them up, their weight surely nothing, but Gaves felt as though he was lifting the world by its very pillars. âWhatâs this?â His father asked in curiosity.â His form snapped in front of Gaves, always in front of him despite how many times Gaves whirled away. "Two boxesâŚâ An impish smile grew on the bearded manâs face. It didnât look natural, as if he was forcing his muscles to twist a way they werenât supposed to. âWas Gavey gonnaâ ask her to marry him? D'awwwwâŚâ Gaves narrowed his eyes, but didnât look up. There was no point. With a sniffle he turned back around, returning back to the couch in the other room. âWasnât like she would say 'yesâ. 'Oh, yes, Gaves, yes Iâll marry you. Iâll always loooovvvvvvvve you. Iâll never leave, ever.â Amused with himself, his father cackled, grabbing his stomach with mirth. âAhahaha! LOOK ATCHAâ!â He suddenly screamed, thrusting a finger into Gavesâ gut. It did nothing. âYOUâRE PATHETIC! WALKING AROUND WITH RINGS YOUâLL NEVER WEAR! A WASTE!â Spittle coated the bardâs face, but it wasnât real. Down on the couch again, Gaves sat the two boxes on his lap while his father continued to berate him. âNot like you could do anything, anyway. She wanted a -FAMILY-, Hillvack. Can you do that, hmm? CAN YOU GIVE HER THAT?!â Gaves already knew the answer to that, but he refused to address his haunting specter. âNo, you canât. You canât, because you fucked around, Gavey. You fucked around, and now youâve got NOTHING to show for it. Because you wanted to live free, and didnât bother with any hearts you may of stepped on, Gavey. Because, maybe, just maybe you may have fucked with someone who could take something from you, something you just may need. And what a shame is -that-. THE HILLVACK legacy will die with you, a fuckinâ mistake.â
He had drowned out his father now, he was nothing but a faint blur of an outline, and soft spoken words. Gavesâ world had gone silent except for the fireplace, which was a familiar comfort. Nimble fingers pried open the boxes, revealing their treasures: The first of which was a Gold band adorned with several intricate carvings, and markings. Seated at the peak lay a  cut emerald so big it may as well been better for a jewel in a Kingâs portrait frame. On the inside of the box it read 'Mier'saeâ. The other box followed a similar outline, but this one was marked with a cut ruby just as big; upon closer inspection one could tell that the ruby was bigger by a fraction of an inch. The inside of that box read 'Gavesâ. The bard removed the two rings, holding them carefully in his hand, like baby birds. He brought them close to his eye, studying them intently. He dared not slip either on his finger, lest he give himself an image that would never come true. Shedding another painful tear, Gaves then hurled the rings into the fire, which as expected, the fire swallowed up in an instant. Being magically imbued, it didnât matter what was given to the enchanted flames. Everything was consumed by the heat, and the two rings were no exception. Quickly, the metal bounding the gems begin to blaze orange, then melt. The minerals fared no better; their fate came from the intense heat forcing them to crack, then burst amongst the stone tomb as their shattered remnants melted into nothing but a white smoke that rose up the chimney.
He didnât have time to look over the gesture in earnest; as quickly as it started, it ended. Picking up the boxes, he prepared to give them to the flames as well, but halted. Something caught his eye, something he had forgotten he had done. On the underside of Miersaeâs box was a message: 'To the only woman who would make me kneel, and beg for her hand forever. Love, Gaves.â. More tears begin to fall freely before he tossed the box, and and its partner into the roaring flames. Again, like the rings they were turned to ash in the never ending cycle of heat. The bard clutched his face, refusing to look away from the crater of his sin, and wept. âWould you look at thatâŚâ His father spoke, louder this time. Gaves couldnât focus on blocking him out. âWas poor Gavey gonnaâ proposeâŚ.?â It was strange to think of the vision as omnipotent, but it was, according to Gaves. It knew his fears, and doubts, failures, mistakes, and regrets. It was him. A finger tapped the matted hair that layed over his temple, thinking. Suddenly, his face that looked like it been scarred up like a slaveâs back lit up. âGonnaâ propose on your birthday, werenât yaâ?â A groaned followed, his father obviously upset. âWhat a sap. Y'know, you are a fucker for thinking you could just, just forget who you are, Gavey.â
Darkness ate away at the bard, leaving him a hollow shell of what he was. If not for the single fire keeping his form safe from the creeping nothingness, than Gaves surely would have been suffocated by the black empty feeling in his heart. His fatherâs stinging words poked holes in him, leaving him shell that was his usual happy self. Miersae was always there to stave off the thoughts of despair, but now she was gone. Gone, and never coming back. The demons cackled in harmony as it was only a matter of time before Gaves gave up, and snapped his fingers shutting the fire forever. They would overtake him in an instant, and wreak havoc until the morningâs light could grant him mercy from the nearby window. Hope fleeted, and nothing else mattered. What was life if not to give it someone else? What was to live without purpose? Gaves raised a finger and thumb up, staring into the fleeting light. His father was right, he was destined for darkness. With a quick snap of his fingers Gaves commanded the fireplace to cease its life, forcing the light to recede into nothing as the surrounding darkness leapt in, and tore into his soul, tormenting him until his chest heaved with pained sobs again.
