thousand times I've fallen

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

He was vaguely aware of being dragged through the snow. Vaguely sensed many hands lifting him up, and carrying him away. To where? It didn't matter.

Silence was traded for the murmur of many voices. Icy air was traded for the balmy warmth of some indoor place, and a scent of stale beer, smoke and food told him it was the Kraai. Korbin wasn't so awake that he could move, or stand, or even let anyone know he was aware... and he wasn't sure if he would, even if he could. This place... Gods, how he hated this place. Weaver loved it, but he never did. Always knew it would be the end of her, and just look, if he wasn't right.

Many feet clambered down a stair, and the air grew cooler. Damp, the way only cellars were. Cold boards met his back, and his head thumped onto the floor when someone's grip slipped. Murmuring voices were talking back and forth; he didn't care what they said. Couldn't muster enough feeling to be either angry or grateful.

They were leaving now. More feet in the stair, followed by a door slamming. Silence settled in over him, leaving nothing but the ring in his ears of his own internal screaming. It was oppressive, stifling. He sucked in a deep breath, and flinched as cut glass jabbed into his side.

Korbin groaned softly, and pried open the eyes. Stared up at the dark timbre of the ceiling, without really seeing it.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing She would have come with him immediately if she could, but she couldn’t. She had to step away to grab a few things he might need, to grab Auni, to try and figure out how the fuck to apologize and how much she wasn’t a healer, cursing herself for that small fact too. But soon enough, they tell her where they’ve put him — not a bed to her surprise, but somewhere cold and dark and honestly pretty fucked up all things considered. So she hisses against the frustration she has, feet taking her down the stairs into the cold and damp cellar of a sort, Auni swift at her heels. She opens the door and the Luxere pours his light into the room, glowing antlers as he moves to sniff at Korbin, to do his own little checkover. And then she’s there, kneeling in the glass before she realizes it, growling when she does and using a cloth to push it away. Then she’s hovering over him, iceberg eyes narrowed and focused. “I’m sorry Korbin, I’m so fucking sorry.” She rushes out, spotting a piece of glass as she goes to try and get it out from around him, using her cloth where she can to try and patch up the wounds — some she had caused. Her dark hair spills over her shoulder into his chest as she works, and anxiety pools in her stomach. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

Where else would they have brought him? To a house that would never really feel like home again, where he was left on his own? To some over-crowded room where the beds were already taken? To the Academy, where strangers were to stare down at him and wonder what happened to the young brat who  ran around giving orders to them only an hour ago?

Weaver had made this her office. Her desk was still there. It was cold and quiet, but it was also private. And no doubt there was at least one or two people watching the door, in case he tried to do something stupid. Halo knew grief, and had seen the madness of it before. Korbin would have cursed them for knowing it so well... if he'd been able to feel anything at all.

But he was numb. Kiada's appearance drew no reaction from him, nor did he object to her tending of wounds. Probably he should be angry at her - though he couldn't recall what for - or reject the help, or say something back, but... No.

There was nothing left in him. No strength to draw from. What point was there in anything, when his reason for living had disappeared?

Weaver was... Weaver was dead. Dead. She was gone.

Korbin turned his head away, and stared numbly into the wall.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing He doesn’t do anything while she’s searching him over, while she’s removing a few of the furs to see how badly she’d gotten him with her talons, to see if there’s any bones that had popped out of their sockets she could try to piece back together. Auni is at Korbin’s other side, the luxere curling up around Korbin’s head, his own antlered head resting there as if he can help give some sort of comfort. But Korbin continues to say nothing, to look away from her even, and Kiada clenches her jaw as she runs her hands along him, hissing as her side throbs. “Korbin, look at me, please...” She says, her hands running up to his shoulders, pressing her thumbs into the hollows below his collarbones. “I’m sorry.” She utters again, fighting through her frustration to focus on him and what she could do. So she withdraws, peeling away the furs from her own body, rolling it up to give him a pillow to rest on, to give him some kind of comfort. Something. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

There was nothing really wrong with him. His head was working, his bones were whole... well, mostly. He flinched away when her prodding fingers found his cracked ribs, and gritted his teeth against the pain. But it was no spear to pierce the fogs of his mind, because there was none. He was lucid, present, awake.

Just... When he turned his head back, there was absolutely no spark in the gaze that met hers. He didn't even appear to see her; it was like she wasn't even there. As if he was searching for someone else, and when he didn't find them... he gave up, and stared into the ceiling instead. Shifted away from the luxere; he was not interested in that kind of pity.

"You should have let me go," he said, voice flat, as dull as his eyes. Korbin still didn't know why she was apologizing. It wasn't like anything she did actually mattered to him.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing He turns his head back toward her, and she sucks in a breath, her iceberg eyes focusing on the pale lines of his face, at the vacancy within them, and she understands. But it does no good to sit there and try to relate to him, how could it? Nobody wanted to hear that someone else had been there before, too, nobody else wanted to hear that someone else had it equally as bad as them when they were at their lowest. His deep voice rumbles, flatly, and she sighs out her nose – watching him focus on the ceiling as she frowns. “No.” She says quietly, but equally as strong as before. She couldn’t have let him go, couldn’t have let him continue on the trek to the dragon, not when it would result in nothing but more and more death. But that’s what she was sorry for, sorry for Weaver’s departure, sorry for running into him hard enough that he fell to the icy ground and cracked those ribs. She hadn’t meant it, but she had meant to stop him from going after it. So she leans forward, trying to lift her hands to his head, fingers trailing through dark hair as she tries to fit the makeshift pillow beneath his neck and head before she settles on her hands planted on either side of him, peering down at him. “I couldn’t.” nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

Couldn't. Out of some misguided morality that forced everything alive to keep living. And thus he was condemned to this slow death instead, where every breath was a reminder that he remained where his sister was not. Every heartbeat was one he did not deserve, because he had not been there to fight for her, to watch her back. She had not asked him to come, and now she had gone where he could never reach. Not while he was still living.

If this could indeed be called life.

He did not reply. Didn't respond to her hands; like a puppet he was moved around, that bundle of furs tucked in behind his head. It made no difference; just like her staring down at him made no difference. He gazed back, but still didn't see her. If there was a challenge, he didn't rise up to it.

There just wasn't any fight left in him. It had bled out on the Tundra, left behind in a pool of crimson just beyond the Citadel gates.

Denied the chance to avenge his last remaining family member, he was clean out of reasons to keep trying.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing It wasn’t her job to try and pretend as if she’s some sort of decider between life and death. But she’d led far too many people to their deaths to sit idly by while he knowingly went out to never return. She couldn’t let that happen, refused it even. And when she had taken her drastic measures, to ensure that he couldn’t slip out of her grip anymore, Kiada hadn’t expected her to be so successful. At least he wasn’t pissed at her for that, for the other pain she’d caused him. She takes a deep breath, staring down at him and seeing nothing in return, not knowing how to reach into him – not sure if he even wanted her there. After all, who was she to him? She wasn’t family, she was just a girl at the end of the day. A girl who cared far more than she frankly should for someone who was only here for a season. Her side throbs again and she swallows hard, her forearms buckling a small amount as she lowers herself toward him – trying to share some warmth to his cold, her hands moving to cover her face and rub at her temples, unsure where to go or what to do from here. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

It would be better for everyone if she gave up on him. Kiada would only hurt herself like this, and Korbin didn't have it in him to care if she wound up crying. Wasn't sure if he ever would have, and now... he couldn't even cry for Weaver. What was left for others, when his heart only ever had room for his own ragtag bunch of ravens? A flock of five, they had been. And now, only he remained.

What raven, what wolf, could ever hope to make it without a pack? His fate was sealed. Death was inevitable. The only remaining question was whether it would be swift and merciful or a slow agony drawn out over time.

What life did she hope to kindle in him, when she hovered close like that? If it was the kind they'd shared for just the one night, it was in extremely poor taste. If it was some kind of emotion, that too seemed cruel beyond measure. The mere notion of caring for anyone or anything was sickening.

Korbin raised an arm and shoved her off. Gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain in his ribs, but didn't care that it hurt. Let the injury worsen, let the bones snap and carve open his lungs. See if he cared.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing He pushes her away, and she lets him. Sitting back on the ground beside him, drawing her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Auni moves now, to come and rest at her side, to press against her and offer his comfort for her. A hand lifts to rub at her temple, and she exhales a loud side as she goes to stand and take another fur from the side of the door, moving to drape it over him. Moving back to the door, she opens it and requests for a real healer and perhaps a bit of alcohol, should he want it. She doesn’t know how he plans to cope. All she knows is how she never really had a chance to – thrust into so many dangerous scenarios and too stubborn to die in them. And she closes the door behind her requests, going to sit on the floor again, anxiously fiddling with her braid. What could she do? Nothing. And it kills her to be so unable, incapable of helping someone else yet again. It’s a never-ending cycle, isn’t it? Being useless when it came to trying to make people feel better. She was a failure with it, always had been. She’s not sure why she’s started trying. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

He didn't particularly plan to cope at all. Korbin was drowning in his grief, and all too happy to embrace the darkness that waited at rock bottom. Having been there before, he knew what waited, and it seemed no worse to him than this raw, naked pain. If Weaver saw him like this, she would roll her eyes for sure. Tell him to get up and get back to work, because the world wouldn't stop spinning just because he was a bit down.

Ah. But... she never would say that again, would she? A dragon had stolen her voice from him. He would never hear her laugh again. And the realization was knives cutting into his chest, stabbing so deep it was hard to breathe.

The furs placed over him were too heavy, wouldn't let him breathe. Korbin pushed them aside and sat up, slowly pushing himself up. To sitting first, and then up onto unsteady feet. His whole body screamed, every muscle aching from the abuse he'd taken. But he couldn't stay here. Couldn't stand the silence, where every breath from that girl on the floor begged him for things he couldn't give.

He made for the door, one shuffling step at a time. Stopped once to haul the coat up from the floor; it weighed a ton, and his body kept screaming in protest. But it didn't matter.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing From her perch on the floor, she haphazardly watches as he shoves off the furs and sits up. Her head lifts, arms moving from her head to settle along the floor, one hand tangling deep in Auni’s pale fur as he stands. And when Korbin begins to stand and trudge toward the door, Kiada begins to scramble and stand, to pull herself together to stand as well. She goes next to the door while Auni stays there, eyes trained on Korbin’s frame. “Where are you going?” She asks him, airing the question out loud. She’s tried so hard to keep him here, tried so hard to try and ensure that he’s safe, and he’s standing and moving, broken in more than one way. A deep exhale comes from her as she sighs and tears a hand through her hair, but she doesn’t stop him. She’ll let him go if it means that he has some sort of point to prove, some sort of attempt to try and get back to Weaver even though he couldn’t. Even though none of them could. “There’s healers on their way.” She offers as if it were any incentive to stay. But if they had one thing in common, it was certainly that underlying thought of ‘it should have been me’. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d

Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling

There was no point. Nothing to prove. The only one he'd cared to prove anything to was gone, and would never return. Weaver never told him that rushing off to follow her was the last thing she would want. If he tried, he could sort of guess what she might want, but... she'd left him behind. She had no say in what he did anymore.

That thought alone almost sent him crumbling to the floor.

By the time he drew level with Kiada, sweat was already pouring down his face. From the pain, from the strain of moving when he shouldn't be. "Not my problem," he grunted, and started working his way up the stair. Black spots were dancing before his eyes, but the choking sensation of this closed in room was worse, so Korbin persisted.

He needed out. Had to leave, had to go. Anywhere but here. Preferably nowhere at all.

At the very least, away from this girl who acted as though she cared when really, she was just stroking her own ego by dealing with someone she didn't know. No one would praise her for it, and he was not grateful.

The apple she'd 'saved' from falling to the ground was already rotted at the core. The harder she held on, the sooner it would burst in her hand.

Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing She could empathize with him. She could tell him all of the experiences she had. She could tell him about how she’d gone from world to world and lost everything. But she doesn’t. Instead she stands beside the door as he begins to make his way through, before some sort of frustration begins to take over the Harpy. She can see the sweat beading down him, see the way it almost seems like he sways. And so she reaches out as he passes her, reaching for his arm, fully expecting him to pull it away from her but not caring. “Let me help you, Korbin.” She tries to plead again, though her voice is edged with a bit of a roughness she can’t quite place. Slipping around him, she tries to block his exit, tries to keep him from leaving. “Where can I take you?” To his home? Probably not, too much of Weaver left behind there. To a different room? To her own? She doesn’t know. All she knows is that he’s going to pass out if he continues on, and the last thing he needs is to cause more damage to himself. nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d