Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20200130020211/@comment-5583506-20200130224005

7 years ago...

Kashya had not come out from her chambers for over three weeks. Few from the Brotherhood laid their eyes on her. While she had always been somewhat of a recluse she seemed even worse now. She hadn't attended to Do'shanji's Claw-Dance training, and she had not attended Aenlin's alchemical lectures. And it had all started shortly after her latest assignment. Food was left untouched and she left the Corinthe sanctuary on her own multiple times without even saying a single word. Nor had anyone been successful in tracking her to find out wherever she went.

Rumors circulated, of course, but none of them could specifically point out the details. Daro had of course figured it out about right when he theorized that it had something to do with unrequitted love. He was somewhat of an expert in that area.

While others speculated, Kashya sat all by herself on the bedside in her chambers. She felt abandoned. All she had ever wanted in life was Kiro. The only thing that had made her life bearable up to that point had been the idea of reuniting with him and fulfilling the promise they had made. And she had been one year too late.

One year... she kept repeating over and over in her head until it started to hurt. One year.

It was infuriating, and she knew it. And yet she couldn't feel a thing. It was as if her body and mind suppressed every single emotion in a desperate attempt to keep it all together, lest she would go insane or shatter into a thousand brittle pieces. Either of the two were preferable at this point, she figured. She did not have anything else. Her whole existence had up to this point made her realize that her life had been one cruel joke. The childhood of a pariah, the contempt from peers, the sexual abuse, the deceit of the only person in her life she had ever loved and trusted.

She was tired. The only flicker of some sort of a future she had had was the fact maybe something had yielded fruit from her first and only tryst with Kiro, seeing as she had not had her moon cycle for weeks up till tonight. Now she sat on the bed having removed her undergarments and pants. There was a small bloodstain on them, and she looked at it with indifference, as if it was the signature of her death penalty.

This was truly it, she figured. From herenow on there was no turning point, no going back. Any dreams she had had of a normal life had been thoroughly and utterly crushed. How would she be able to go on? She could only feel like she someone else, her true self, when she was with him. But with that option gone, the reality dawned on her that this would be the remainder of her life. She would be as a shadow. She would not laugh nor cry. She would not feel anger. She would feel nothing.

There was a subtle knocking on her chamber door, but she did not reply. Then came another knock.

"Kashya?" a dark, elderly voice called out for her.

She still did not reply, she just kept staring at that bloodstain in her undergarments as if it was pointing at her, mocking her. Not even a child of Kiro's to care for. Clearly it was the result of her bad blood that had made itself present once again. No matter how much she tried to escape it, her father was always right in the end.

Those separated by the threads of fate should not be alive.

"Kashya, are you in there?" Do'shanji's voice called, sounding slightly concerned. "Open up."

Kashya did not open up. She did not have the strength to do so. Besides, the door was already open.

Finally Do'shanji let the door slide slightly open, peering into the dark chambers. Only a small candlelight was aglow to reveal the shape of the young Khajiit woman sitting on the bed, her back turned to the door.

"Kashya?" he said askingly again. "Are you alright?"

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't come in."

Do'shanji furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"This one does not wish to see anyone."

Also because this one has no trousers.

Do'shanji came in either way. Normally, she would have thrown a fit at the idea of anyone laying eyes on her like this, but she was too far deep in her grief to bother. What did it matter now anyway? She was already dead.

When the elderly Khajiit monk took note of the lack of clothing below the waist he turned his head the other way. "This one just came to see you. Why the hell you have not come to attend to his trainings?"

"This one did not feel like it."

"Kashya, you have been cooped up in here for near three weeks", he stated. "We've neither seen fur nor claw from you in that timespan. What the hell are you up to in here?"

"Grieving", she said softly.

"Grieving? For whom?"

"For herself."

He allowed himself a look at her, trying his best to ignore her bare nether regions. His eyes fixed on the bloodied undergarments. "Are you hurt?"

"No. This one just ... had her moon cycle."

Do'shanji rolled with his eyes. Some female affliction. "Maybe that is what is making you so fucking emotional?"

"This one thought that maybe ... fate would be kind to her. That maybe she would not have to spend the rest of this life unloved and all alone."

Do'shanji raised an eyebrow. Some female affliction indeed. "This one still fails to see what you having your period has to do with any of that."

Kashya slightly panned her head in his direction, but she did not even look at him. "Do you remember her latest contract?"

"The artisan?" Do'shanji crossed his arms and nodded affirmatively. "This one remembers."

"Turns out that he was the love of Kashya's life. Her sole hope for ... a life beyond this."

The old, grizzled Khajiit had a quizzical look on his expression, still failing to piece together the puzzle. "So ... did you kill him?"

Kashya remained still for a while before shaking her head. "She couldn't."

Do'shanji breathed out through his teeth. "Listen here, you are to ..."

"This one and him. We ... we reunited. After so many years. We finally became one."

"Finally became one? What the hell are you ... ?" Then it finally dawned on Do'shanji. "Oh. This one reckons things didn't turn out the way you intended."

She shook her head once more. "He was already married, with children. And though we could not be together she was still hoping that ..." Her voice failed her and she hung with her head, tightly clutching to the bloodstained undergarments.

Do'shanji had finally pieced it all together, feeling sympathy for the young woman. Though he was strict and harsh, he had always cared for her. She had entered their sanctuary as a jumpy and scared little thing, traumatized for life by her staying at a brothel in Senchal. And now she was reduced to a composed and near sleepwalking mess of a woman.

He approached her and carefully sat himself down beside her, avoiding to look at her legs or anything close by. "Listen here", he said. "This one is going to put his arm around you now, alright? Feel free to brush this one off, but Do'shanji believes you could use his comfort."

Kashya just slowly nodded.

The old Khajiit slowly and softly laid a protective arm around her and felt as she tensed up underneath it, breathing out loudly. He knew how much she hated being touched, and he was not about to question how she had managed to make love to her childhood sweetheart under such conditions, but she was in pain and clearly suffering. From what he had heard her life had just been one big misery upon the other, piling up.

And he couldn't tell by this point if it had hardened her or completely broken her. There was a blurry line there, after all. Maybe it was both? By being completely broken, she had been shaped into the perfect assassin. She did not question orders and did what she was asked. Especially now when she had lost all track of any sense of hope for a future.

"This one ... kind of missed your birthday while you were in here", he remarked sheepishly. "And he believes you did so too?"

Kashya looked up at him and blinked. "This one has never celebrated her birthday."

Do'shanji cleared his throat. "Which is why this one wanted to give you something, seeing as you are all secluded in here, like a skeever in mourning." He pulled from out behind his belt a pair of short curved sheaths, almost angle-shaped in appearance. "Kukris", he explained. "Ritualistic weapons fit for Claw-Dancer monks. These ones bearing the insignia of the Temple of Two-Moons Dance in Rawl'kha. This one personally wore them when he was still in service."

Kashya observed the weapons curiously. They were elegantly crafted, with much effort put on the filigree work in gold around the handles, and old, cryptic writings along the mirror-blank blades.

"These are now yours", he clarified.

Kashya's lips trembled for a moment, before she ultimately shattered. She started bawling uncontrollably, desperately clutching a hold with her arms around the old warrior monk's neck, ignoring all the physical pain she felt upon touching. Do'shanji could do naught but to just sit there and accept it, before he gently gave her an embrace as well.

This must have been her final cry, he reflected.