#kamiane

Faervell stood staring at the familiar rogue, unsure, at first, what to say to her in response. She had asked for him immediately, said it was very important. Of course he would come to a summons like that, especially from her.

He felt a sickening drop in his stomach, his muscles tensing, as if he’d just taken a blow from her words. He knew he shouldn’t waste time with looking at her stunned, although he just couldn’t regain himself. Not when she’d burst that sort of news on him… Sure, she had been distant, spending more time out in her base in Gilneas, but, he could never have suspected… this.

The warlock wanted to laugh, wanted to joke it off. That’s right… this was all probably just a joke or some sort of necessary step in her plans to try and gain wealth and power. Finally, his lips shifted to a small smirk, his mouth opening to finally speak to her, “What’s this? You must be joking, right? Going to use him for money or something like that?” He laughed awkwardly at his own joke, half just to calm himself, and half to wait for her to join in or perhaps snap at him to shutup.

That did not happen.

She looked directly at his eyes, calm as ever, although a slight hint of a blush began to form on her cheeks. “This isn’t a joke, Faervell. I am telling you because you are my friend, and that is all.”

His smirk slipped from his face and a sinking feeling replaced those other feelings. A surge of anger rushed through him, although he eased it back, taking a deep breath, “Really now?” His brows raised. “I wouldn’t have guessed… especially with how he treats you.”

“You do not know how he treats me.” She snapped suddenly, as if to shut him up before he could insult the man further.

Faervell rose his hands innocently, “Fine, fine.” a look of honest hurt crossed over his face, “So then… You are really going to…” The warlock didn’t much wish to finish that sentence, feeling the overwhelming disappointment already swell up in his chest, threatening to burst out for her to see just how upset he was at this news.

Esme gave a small nod, “Listen, I can’t stay long, I just had to tell you. This won’t ruin any of our work… nor our friendship, Faervell.” She gave him a more gentle look, “Don’t worry, okay?” She reached out to him a moment, although the motion was awkward and she ended up retracting the hand before it made contact with the other man.

Pain was obvious in his expression, although he forced a thin, strained smile on his lips. “I will not. I am happy for you, Esme. Just do not let him hurt you, not that I doubt your abilities to hurt him worse. You’ve made your decision.”

She nodded her head once, “Good… I have to go, though. We will speak later about our other business.” She eyed his face over, trying to get a read of him for now, “Good night, Faervell.” With that, she turned from him with a whip of her bright hair and walked away, around the large gazebo building.

He watched her until he could no longer. After she was out of sight, that thin smile crumbled, a solid frown growing in it’s place. He waited a few minutes, holding back a sudden pain in his chest before the rage swelled up, causing him to suddenly move to the table near him and flip it over before it was set on green, corrupted fire. More objects around him suddenly lit up in the twisted flames as he took out his anger and pain on them.

Some time later, he sat away from charred remains of furniture and other plants around the area that someone was sure to get mad about. He looked out at the ocean with a lidded gaze, clutching a nearly fully drained fel crystal in his hand tightly. He knew he had to accept this as truth, and would manage. It was to be expected. Ciaragan had even warned of something like this… Esme was not someone for him. She never was, no matter what he hoped and dreamed for.