i can't save the world if i'm not happy anymore.

It seemed much of their relationship since Northwind had been Kalt watching her from afar. Only since they came to this new world had she known of his presence, but even then, she didn’t know he was the one with whom she played. In a way, he quite enjoyed that. He was able to fool the great Assassin in Blue with his mediocre disguise, even when they fought closely in the woodlands, ran together in the ruins. He loved it. It was the most fun he’d had since…well, since they trained together in the Guild. However, the last time they had played together was in the treetops and even that felt like forever ago. He watched her. Always. He watched to make sure she was safe, she was okay. Even when she wasn’t, he didn’t interfere because he knew she would be. She had flaws, just like every other man, woman, and child in existence, and sometimes she let herself believe that her flaws would be the consumption of her entire self, but it wasn’t true. He saw the roses that grew from her scars, more beautiful and vibrant than anything nature had ever sprouted. He saw the spring that bloomed from the ground upon which her tears fell. He saw the storms that raged endlessly in her eyes, so much more vastly powerful than what the world could create. He saw her. They weren’t flaws, downfalls… Gods, they were so far from that, yet she was completely drowning in them. She was letting herself drown, become buried in the false words of others who could never understand. She had run, isolated herself. She embraced the wolf and had disappeared to the forest. Rather, tried to disappear. He was there. He was always there, showing himself when she needed him, only never telling her who he was. She didn’t need to know yet. He was a shadow, a figure to remind her of her best self. In the forest, he did just that, but he allowed her the time to relax, to feel, to suffer. She needed it. As much as it pained him to witness, she needed to feel it, to accept it. It was a necessary step to move past the pain. He had stayed with her a few times across the fire. One time, he brought his guitar with him and softly played with the crackling fire. He smiled gently, as it was the first time she allowed herself a peaceful sleep. Music tended to have that effect. Even now, he watched. He watched her from afar, his hood pulled low over the top of his face and his handkerchief covered the lower half. She believed herself to be alone, but it wasn’t true. It never was. Even if she wanted to be alone, wanted to isolate and lose herself to her power, to the dark, to whatever it was that consumed her… She wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t allow it. Crystalline eyes watched her as she removed her cloak, letting it fall to the ground. The sudden crack could have rang out at the pain his heart released. That was a symbol of who she was. That powerful blue which he mocked her for in the Guild was her, and she let it fall to the dirt. Kalt forced down a wave of nausea at the sight. He breathed slowly, clenching his fists and his jaw alike at the feeling of hopelessness she radiated. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the wild-eyed assassin who he knew, who he created. This girl was broken in a way that she hadn’t been before. That put a rage in his eyes that he couldn’t shove back down. Their relationship had been strange, twisted in a way that people couldn’t accept or understand without experiencing it firsthand. And gods, he prayed no one would ever have to. The possessiveness he felt over breaking her burned inside of him. She broke for one man, one person. That was it, and yet Alistair had taken it upon himself to break her. If his attention wasn’t so focused on keeping her from complete descent, he might have gone after the man responsible for the cracks in her eyes. The last time she was underground, he had whipped her after she came back out. Sixty-four times, he had whipped her with the very weapon that hanged at his side now, begging her to obey their Master. After that, he had broken her further. Five weeks of breaking her, of seeing her fear under the creative masterfulness of his torture. Five fucking weeks of it, but he was able to bring her back, give her back her sense of self, of purpose. Now… Now, she stood at the mouth of the underground, willingly stepping towards it, willingly walking towards the darkness, the emptiness, void of light, of stars. He wouldn’t allow it. She wasn’t allowed to do that, to lose herself. Kalt sprinted from his distant place of hiding, his handkerchief and hood still covering his face as he drew closer. ”Ashe!” He called out. It was the first time he had spoken directly to her in roughly two years. He didn’t know if she would remember his voice, didn’t care. He wanted to remain anonymous, which was why he didn’t remove his facial coverings, but he wouldn’t wait for her to just disappear. His feet came to a fast stop no more than ten feet away from her, mostly hidden eyes practically pleading. Stay. Ashetta kalt give into the night.