KORBIN
Leave my loneliness unbroken!
- quit the bust above my door!
- quit the bust above my door!
Korbin shied away from even the suggestion of Noah's memories. Couldn't stomach them, in the same way he couldn't bring himself to set foot in the Kraai anymore. It raised the pain to maddening levels, the kinds that triggered his need to escape it all. His mind shut down trying to protect itself from the pain, yet nothing in this place, in this town, in this life could truly remove the image of Weaver. She was everywhere. Every street and every shop sang with her presence, every person met on the street, each slow awakening when the bottle no longer managed to keep him unconsciousnes recalled what used to be, and what was no more.
Being reminded killed him, and forgetting killed him. And yet he was kept alive, not allowed to die. He would see her again, when his own life ended... but the thought of countless years spanning out before him before that was allowed to happen, without her, brought him nothing but despair.
Without her. Without his sister. His best friend, voice of reason and light in the dark.
What was the point in anything anymore? Why try to get through any of these disasters; his own killing of an exile, the curses, destruction of his home, the death of his last remaining family... why deal with any of it, when there was nothing on the other side but more of the same?
Even his anger was pointless. A mere reflection of helplessness to decide his own fate. Apprently he was allowed to do whatever he wanted except the one thing he truly wanted, and for arbitrary reasons that meant nothing to him.
What did he care about others? They were not Weaver.
The raven shifted on its perch, but it was only to turn its back on the reindeer, and tuck the head further beneath the wing.
Being reminded killed him, and forgetting killed him. And yet he was kept alive, not allowed to die. He would see her again, when his own life ended... but the thought of countless years spanning out before him before that was allowed to happen, without her, brought him nothing but despair.
Without her. Without his sister. His best friend, voice of reason and light in the dark.
What was the point in anything anymore? Why try to get through any of these disasters; his own killing of an exile, the curses, destruction of his home, the death of his last remaining family... why deal with any of it, when there was nothing on the other side but more of the same?
Even his anger was pointless. A mere reflection of helplessness to decide his own fate. Apprently he was allowed to do whatever he wanted except the one thing he truly wanted, and for arbitrary reasons that meant nothing to him.
What did he care about others? They were not Weaver.
The raven shifted on its perch, but it was only to turn its back on the reindeer, and tuck the head further beneath the wing.
Quoth the Raven,
"Nevermore."
"Nevermore."
