KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
There were a lot of demons to haunt him, weren't there? Maybe that was why it hit him so hard now. One crisis too many, the straw that finally broke the camel's back... It seemed he just wasn't as strong as her, because she had all of the same ones, yet Weaver wasn't breaking.
Later, he might remember this moment and loathe the way he let himself be dressed like he was no more than a child. Yet while he was in it, he didn't even register the shirt being pulled over his head. His thoughts were circling on Loren too, but in a far different way. He saw the healer's fists rise and fall to strike at a face that couldn't get away, because Korbin was holding it down. Slowly choking the life out of it, until eyes bulged and the tongue lolled out. Like a dog. Like a slaughtered animal.
It took a long while before the paper registered with him. The single word took even longer to process, before he recalled having said anything.
"The fight," he said slowly, words slurred and not fully formed - his inability to hear really showed through here, where his mind couldn't focus on shaping the words properly. "The cannibal. I keep seeing... didn't mean to hurt. It wasn't you, it was.."
His gaze was turning distant again, once again fading back into the vision that had caught hold of him in the training hall.
Maybe Loren would have been a better choice. But what could the healer do here? What could anyone do, when Korbin was trapped in his own mind and couldn't find a way out?
Later, he might remember this moment and loathe the way he let himself be dressed like he was no more than a child. Yet while he was in it, he didn't even register the shirt being pulled over his head. His thoughts were circling on Loren too, but in a far different way. He saw the healer's fists rise and fall to strike at a face that couldn't get away, because Korbin was holding it down. Slowly choking the life out of it, until eyes bulged and the tongue lolled out. Like a dog. Like a slaughtered animal.
It took a long while before the paper registered with him. The single word took even longer to process, before he recalled having said anything.
"The fight," he said slowly, words slurred and not fully formed - his inability to hear really showed through here, where his mind couldn't focus on shaping the words properly. "The cannibal. I keep seeing... didn't mean to hurt. It wasn't you, it was.."
His gaze was turning distant again, once again fading back into the vision that had caught hold of him in the training hall.
Maybe Loren would have been a better choice. But what could the healer do here? What could anyone do, when Korbin was trapped in his own mind and couldn't find a way out?
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
