"No more being sick of living in this world which has only caused you and your loved ones pain, grief, suffering and sorrow?" Jackie says gently.
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De’Tearion chuckled.
“Indeed. My entire life has been little else. The only times I have ever known true peace had been while my mother had lived, and while I had known Mina. I was barely a few centuries old when my mother ceased. Mina… I betrayed her, and she will never forgive me. I fled the island because of Mina,”he mentioned.
At every mention of his mother, De’Tearion unconsciously caressed his amulet.
Jackie nods to herself.
"That, I understand. . . not the age, because dear lord that's ancient, but the losing or failing the ones you love."
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De’Tearion chuckled sorrowfully.
“I am a bit over thirteen human centuries, though I might be wrong by a century or two. To my kin, I am barely an adult,”he explained.
A quiet sigh escaped him, then De’Tearion grabbed the gemstone chain of his amulet and pulled it over his head. He grabbed the black glass pendant, letting the chain dangle over his long fingers.
“Agatha forged this amulet. It be the only thing of her that I have. She created this pendant from our mother’s ashes. They were quite close. Our mother was one of the few folk Agatha could actually trust,”he said quietly.
Jackie smiles a little.
"'Though I may be wrong by a century or two. . .' I'm only 31 years old. I can't even *begin to comprehend living that long." she states softly.
She tilts her head at the ash glass, examining it. "It contains the weight of a mother's love and grief in one tiny stone. . . so much weight to bear, for one with enough troubles to fill an ocean and then some."
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De’Tearion chuckled a bit.
“True, ‘tis a long time, yet my kin measure not time. ‘Tis a culture of deeds and merit. Though, I am only just ‘maturing’ in age, I have earned the right to be called a veteran, possibly even an elder, among my kin. I had been Chancellor, leader, for over a millennium. I have participated in, and led, many wars. I desire no more of that,”he explained.
De’Tearion snorted knowingly.
“‘Tis all I have left of both my mother and my sister. ‘Tis also what has kept me somewhat sane after Agatha’s death. The last link to the two I cared most for. ‘Tis their legacy,”he said quietly.
De’Tearion caressed the pendant with his thumb, feeling every carved notch, every intentional bump and curve. He had long ago memorized the texture of the pendant. Agatha had masterfully mimicked the shape of a female goliath beetle from the ash of their mother, and had beautifully texturized it as well.
"I'd love to live long enough to not have to measure time. . . but time only strengthens grief, it does not lessen it. Not when you live forever. . ." Jackie murmurs.
"I have something similar, though it is not anything more physical than melodic words upon the wind. I. . . I wish to sing it to you, if you wish to hear it. It is only fair." she whispers.
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“My kin are long-lived not like you think. We are mortal creatures, yet we live for millennia. ‘Tis merely our way to ignore what other creatures would call ‘time’. Though, if you are meaning yourself, then I know not,”De’Tearion replied.
“If you wish to sing it, I will mind not. Songs be a common thing in my culture, and one of the few things I still enjoy from it,”he mentioned.
He tenderly pulled the amulet back over his head, fluffing out his thick, black hair afterward. He then patiently watched Jackie.
Jackie nods. "I wish to be able to have the power to change worlds. Not just individual lives."
Jackie nods and takes a deep breath, composing herself.
She starts singing, her voice soft and low.
"My child, oh child, please don't you cry, the meadows are calling, they'll keep you from falling. . .
My child, oh child, winter's come calling, stave her away by the fire. . . she'll knock and reach but never find you. . .
Sweet child, oh child, father is here. . . he'll keep you safe, he'll keep you here. . .
Sweet child, oh child, mother is here. . . she'll keep you fed, she'll keep you dear. . .
Dear child, oh child, don't worry or cry. . . they'll come back to you, and tears will dry. . .
Dear child, oh child, far have they gone. . . but the world is too small, they'll be back before long. . ."
She stops singing at this point, her voice breaking.
"An old child's song, about a daughter whose parents told her they'd always be with her, even when they were off at war. At the end of the song, the parents return, but. . . they do not live. It is a song my mother and father used to sing to me whenever I was crying. It seems sad, true, but it stopped my tears. Because unlike the child in the song, my parents never left. How foolish I was. . ."
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De’Tearion snorted,”’Tis a noble desire, yet a naive one. The power to change a world requires leadership, and leadership requires the destruction of yourself and everything you hold dear. And, most times, it only ends in failure. I speak from experience.”
He listened to Jackie’s song, closing his eyes halfway through to ward off approaching tears. However when she stopped and explained what the tune was, his resistance failed. He blinked open his eyes, taking a shaky deep breath as tears once again flowed from his eyes.
“It reminds me of Agatha. How I would hold her, comfort her, sing to her, and promise the impossible. There had been many times where Agatha had seemed more like my daughter than my twin sister. Though, I might as well have been her father. At least, I treated her with the kindness she deserved. Our father never gave Agatha a chance. He would look not at her. I fought him many times about that, and I was repaid by being disowned in everything except the cursed name of my bloodline,”he said, rambling a bit.
Tears fell vigorously from his eyes at this point, as De’Tearion remembered the way his father ignored the troubles of his own children. Like they meant nothing to him.
Though, as his thoughts drifted to the day his father died, he abruptly started laughing. The tears and the pain were still in his eyes, but he was laughing in sheer amusement. He also started to sway, and his skin was paler than usual, in a sickly way.
"I've already lost everything I love, De’Tearion. I'm already destroyed too, so I guess I'm already fit to lead, huh." Jackie murmurs.
She realizes she's crying, crimson tears flowing freely.
"My real father. . . I had an older sister. I stood up for her, she was strange in the head. As a reward, I got beat, and then she got disowned for my mistakes. I ended up killing my real father in a duel when I was 6. My mother married my dad afterwards. I don't miss my father, but I miss my dad."
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De’Tearion chirped,”’Tis possible.”
De’Tearion barely composed himself enough to listen to Jackie’s words. Afterward, he burst into a full fit of laughter, flopping onto his back.
“We share more than I imagined! I murdered my father. On the eve of the worst war in forest history. We had been in battle. He had been wounded and begged for my help. I impaled him to a tree and watched him shatter into ash. It was glorious to finally be free of the traitorous bastard that sired me!”he howled.
He then started crying again.
“I have never told anyone this. Agatha never knew. Even Mina knew not. Nor did they know that I only regret the timing of his murder. I had known not how bad that war would be. Yet, if I had, I would have waited until a better opportunity arose. I might have actually been free, had I just waited. Free to live in peace with Agatha. Free to hunt my kin at my leisure. Free to live a life with less pain,”he breathed.
De’Tearion absently stared at the ceiling as he continued to silently cry. He was still a sickly pale hue, but he was at least calming down from his strange ‘fit’.
Jackie bursts into hysterical laughter herself.
"I suppose we do, at that! Oh, it was not something my family ever knew of. We dueled in private, in the shadow of our tallest hill. I left him bled dry, in the dirt. Oh, the vultures had a fine meal that night, and I made sure the rest was left to rot. Oh, my sister would have been so happy if she knew. My mother. . . she didn't care. She probably knew I was involved with his disappearance. But she was so relieved. After, she started to look alive. And I knew I had made the right choice, when we learned that she would have her last child, my brother. Though, 4 years after she remarried. . . my brother, my dad, my mother, they were all slaughtered while I watched. As I was put in chains, I looked over the hills of my people and watched them burn."
Her words were rushed, and her eyes looked strangely bright, feverishly bright. Her strange crimson tears still flowed down her face.
"I have none of my kind left to reunite with. I am the last of the true catfolk. The rest of us are half-breeds or dead."
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De’Tearion laughed as Jackie explained more about her father’s murder, then the loss of her family. United in pain, the two of them. Mercy seemed to have decided such a thing would be a good idea. Well, it likely wasn’t.
He didn’t notice her look, but he heard the part about her being the last of her kind. He chuckled.
“I am the last of my bloodline. The last De’Tearion. Curse my nam…”he said quietly, his words a bit slurred. His eyes flickered a bit, then he passed out. The sickly pallor of his skin remained.
Jackie, due to various different reasons, passes out with De'Tearion.
Crimson tears still flowed freely, even in unconciousness.
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(Well… De’Tearion is passed out from low blood sugar and stress. What’s Jackie’s excuse, lol?)
(Remembering is a bit of a difficulty. Trauma. She has nightmares whenever she does sleep, too, so there's that. Anxiety because of mentioning her father is also a possible cause!)
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(So, basically lack of sleep and stress?)
(I’m also just being goofy, in case that wasn’t obvious, lol. I don’t know what to do with De’Tearion, since his fainting moment is due to him being half-dead from starvation, so yeah. I’m also indecisive about whether I want to put him in a coma, or spare him for a moment since he did technically feed on Jackie [though this event probably sapped that out of him])
(Yeah, basically. I understand exactly how the two go together: eventually, you crash, and you crash hard. Sometimes at the worst possible moments. Pile trauma on that, from watching your family's blood drip from an enemy's blades and seeing your own homeland being reduced to ashes, plus being sold into slavery and being sexually abused and beaten half to death, plus never getting sleep and not getting enough to eat? She's lucky to be alive, and so is De'Tearion.)
(Lol. We time skip a couple hours? Maybe Jackie wakes up but De'Tearion has fallen into a coma, and she has to take care of him?)
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(Oof. I could list all of the trauma De’Tearion has suffered, but it would be too long to properly read, lol. But, yeah, he’s very lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, he’s more traumatized than his sister, and she was the primary target of all the traumatic shit)
(Hmm… that works. Though, I may not go with a drastic coma. Maybe a really short, handful of hours, kind. I don’t know. I have an idea, but it’s still in the brewing stages, so yeah. Full improv mode here, lol)
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A few hours passed, but De’Tearion had yet to wake. Instead, his condition seemed to be slowly worsening. His sickly pale skin was a few shades worse, his breathing was irregular, and his heartbeat was rapid. He also was far colder to the touch than his normal coolness.
Jackie wakes up slowly, looking over at De'Tearion.
Slowly, she sits back up and reaches over, noting how much paler his skin looked.
She feels his forehead and winces; he was practically freezing.
"Gods dammit. . ."
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De’Tearion didn’t wake at Jackie’s touch, but he did noticeably flinch. His fingers flexed, and one of his legs bent slightly, his toes dragging on the floor and carving two shallow grooves.
Jaackie jerks her hand back, startled, her hair poofing out slightly.
Slowly, she calms down again, and sighs.
"How am I supposed to keep him alive? I know he drinks blood, so maybe that'll help. . ." she murmurs.
she looks around for a moment to find her weapons and armor. She straps everything on, once again armed to the teeth, and goes out to hunt.
She returns with a brace of rabbits and a deer.
She drains the blood from each with a simple device, and then places one of the bottles to De'Tearion's lips.
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While Jackie was gone, De’Tearion was slowly starting to stir. It wasn’t enough to fully awaken, but he was partially aware of his surroundings. When she came back, he smelled the fresh meat, then the blood. That eased him closer to consciousness.
Then, when the blood approached him, and a bottle rested against his lips, it was enough to finally break him out of the depths of his deep sleep. De’Tearion’s eyes slowly flickered open, and his hand grabbed the bottle, his thumb blocking the top before Jackie could pour any of the blood into his mouth.
The glow in his eyes was dim, far more than it had ever been since before De’Tearion and Jackie had met. It allowed the ‘true’ indigo color of his eyes to show a bit, but in a way that was alarming, since he was clearly very ill.
His worsening health was also obvious by the way he held the bottle. His grip wasn’t very strong and his hand shook slightly, and the bottle would normally be nothing for him to hold.
De’Tearion breathed deeply and gently moved aside the bottle without taking it from Jackie. He then sat up slowly, his arms visibly shaking. Nausea crept up on him and De’Tearion took a few more deep breaths. It, unfortunately, didn’t help at all, and De’Tearion teleported out of sight.
Without even realizing it, De’Tearion had appeared outside of Jackie’s home, barely twenty feet away from the front door. And there, the exertion from teleporting proved to be the last straw, and he vomited blood. The fit lasted a few minutes, leaving him in an agonized daze, his abdomen practically burning with pain.
De’Tearion had just enough energy to wipe his lips and crawl a bit away from the large, black puddle he’d left, before he collapsed into a true coma.
(Once again, yes, I’ve written this before, lol)
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(Tiny bump)
(I know, I'm trying to remember how to take care of comatose people)
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(Ah, I understand. Well… to make it easier for you, I was thinking De’Tearion would be out for three days [for ‘plot’ reasons, sly grin]. And, basically, Jackie wouldn’t necessarily be able to do much. He’ll be completely unresponsive, and it’s also extremely difficult to manually feed him, since he’s built with a hidden insectile mouth. [I’m still working on the rest of his digestive system though, to be honest]. So, more or less, Jackie would just be waiting for him to awaken once she’s figured out he’s in a coma, because I can’t think of anything else for Jackie to do, lol)
(Possibly, though three days, when he's in as bad of a condition as he's in? He might actually die- and that would be bad news bears, indeed. She could at least try to give him water [though how, I'm not entirely sure yet] and that could be the most she does. Sound like a plan?)
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(Sly grin. He’s not yet that close to dying. The ‘fit’ he had is a sort of biological last resort thing to keep his body stable [I’ll let De’Tearion explain more]. After the three days, he’ll basically be at death’s door, where, if he doesn’t eat something substantial to stabilize him, then he’ll die in a few more days. Also, De’Tearion can’t have water, lol. He can only have blood and meat [think vampire, lol]. But, otherwise, I’m honestly not sure either how Jackie could keep him hydrated. Though, now that I’m finally thinking of it… heat does play a huge part in his biology, so that could be what Jackie can do. Since De’Tearion’s body temp is way low, she could basically work on keeping him warm, bundling him up in blankets and all that)
