#vhera

Unbread

@dirthelgar thank u for this great idea  

fun fact: this is literally the only kind of cat I can draw. But have a Vhera as thank you ♥

They were swampy lands. Full of ditches and hidden crawl spaces. Yet the forest around it thrived for an entire continent. The fruit of their labor being their greatest strategic weakness. Armies had tried to blaze the trees and steal the harvest -- but they all failed. One after the other - rendered speechless at the use of brutal and rapid strikes. Their enemy was nothing more than a shooting star across the sky moments before their defeat.

But as the years passed, each attack became more and more intriguing. Each came a little closer to the place where the waters turned as dark as the night itself while the sun was at it's highest point in the sky. It was but a matter of time. They would get through. They'd leave a scar on their walls. When the day finally came, the residing Lord felt it down to his very bones with nothing but a shiver. Fear and anxiety growing. Festering. A plague would have been kinder. Quicker. A plague would have been the most prominent act of mercy from the powers that be -- one that would leave one unscathed and without a blackened soul.

And so they continued to have history repeat itself. As it often is with these stories -- one of those particular times would be the last. They had strangled the people by the head in a tiny mistake. Hunting was popular. The Nobles often being the ones to bring the most game. It was a rite of passage -- one without horses. Without weapons. Without advantages. But one of them strayed too far. Paranoia driving him with bitter need. The kind that can only been sated by copious amounts of savagery and violence.

He never made it very far into their shadows before being caught. Thought to be executed. With their Lord gone, the Nobles revolted along with the commoners. Every farmer. Every man, woman and some that could have been considered children ravaged the Noble Armory with purpose in their eyes. There was no weeping to be carried into enemy territory by a gust of wind. The dead had only been able to hear brooding but promising silence.

But the people never did get to cross very far. Slandered by the undead who had gained passage through their very own holes and ditches. They had found a way to bypass the difficult terrain and began to eat them from the inside out. The House began to crumble, as did the people. Huddled in one of the markets, a pair of twins spoke of having to resort to plan B. This was no longer a fight to hold a defense over their home. It was now an escape attempt. As the whispers continued to spread, the people began to gather. To create a strong, united and unforgiving band that would push through the living dead and carve their road to the rest of their lives.

It was a torch that drew their attention. Just as they managed to get near the rear of the undead's lines -- a familiar face stopped them dead in their tracks. The hunter. Their Lord. They cried out towards their father but he wouldn't smile. His gaze was empty. It was more unsettling than the one coming from the undead on his side. An undead that grabbed him by the throat and held him in the air, threatening to crush his skull should they go any further.

As they readied for the crushing sound of their father's cries of valor and honor, something far darker was heard.

"I thought we had a deal!" the man said as his legs dangled in midair.

It wasn't clear who dealt the first blow -- the one that cut off his legs. The undead never got a chance to let go of him. Someone had impaled his feet into the floor and another struck a place along his back. Plan A was gone. Plan B was finished. It was time for no plan. They didn't flee anymore. There was no haven they wanted more than to make sure their Lord did not come out of this alive. Noble and commoner. Servant and Knight. Station was of little importance. The only thing that mattered -- the only thing they had been raised with. The dead never saw it coming. As if they had been holding back and saving their strength and energy for a long trip but no longer cared to make it. Techniques that ought to be forbidden displayed with effortless grace and precision. The only through that invaded their minds was simple. 

Loyalty. It was broken. One of their own had betrayed them.

What was clear now, brighter than the sun - was that the undead had gained advantage into their stronghold through means of treason. From their own Lord himself. My father.

Only a few made it out of that battlefield and obviously, he wasn't one of them.

"The book is over there."

As he points, I am reminded of my older brother, Anthony. How I used to guide him through our library when he was given an assignment. He never seemed to remember names, only their meaning. And I used to be the one who could recall pictures and emotions. I still am. There were two different pieces of the puzzle coming together to give a greater purpose in life. With plenty more pieces around them, they began to create something bigger. Something that went beyond themselves. Into an intangible state of existence only experienced by those of noble intentions. This had somehow become my family. It's as if I regained some of the life lost by my hands -- some by the lack of them. Whatever had once kept me grounded now seemed to float somewhere far. Off shore.

In their little fights I find character. Truth in their eyes. Sometimes the anger flares, but it never lingers. It merely gets lost in the apologies and understandings. Through these years I had been convinced that there did not exist a garden without snakes. I only had Nyves to carry me when my step faltered. To stop me from taking the plunge into certain death. To comfort me when my screams of terror filled our home in the middle of our slumber. He is still the only person to have any entry into the darkest parts of my mind. The only one who knows his way around them -- who does not get lost in the maze.

But I've smiled around them without there being a need to. I've felt worry when one has taken too hard a strike. There have been many little reminders of it all. Of what it was like before the actual training. How it felt like to be surrounded by people who actually didn't kill each other. I would turn my back on them when we are all together - enjoying ourselves - and have the thought of a blade being sunk between my shoulders be one of the least in my mind. To destroy blissful ignorance was one of the hardest things I've had to do.

Yet here we are. Going through mud and muck together as a whole. As brothers and sisters. Sometimes it makes it difficult to be bluntly honest. A habit my social graces could do without - yet a behavior that has become as second nature as breathing. I get angry with them. I want to hit them over the head with a frying pan. I want to throw them out of the way of cannonfire. I want them to smile for the rest of their lives.

I'd not have it any other way. 

sakit,, aku tahu disini kita sama-sama tersakiti, tak ada niat menyakiti atau disakiti, tapi ini berasa melakonkan film dengan skenario yang sama. lebih menyakitkan mana ketika kamu tahu orang yang paling kamu sayangi tiba-tiba bilang kalau dia sekarang sayang ke orang lain atau lebih menyakitkan mana dengan total diam melihatmu dan tetap senyum ketika kamu bersama orang yang sudah tak menyayangimu?? aku SHOCK terpingkal-pingkal saat digadapkan dengan kedua y.. ya jawabannya memang kita sama-sama sakit. tapi kamu terlebih double menyakitiku.