Eleeria Silverwing

Self-Doubt

She locked the bathroom door behind her, sinking slowly to the floor with her back against that solid wood. Eleeria buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking slightly. It was suddenly, and inexplicably, too much to bear – the guilt, the grief of losing so many people in two months; Eleeria sobbed into her hands, grateful for the momentary privacy afforded her by her bathroom’s meager lock.

She couldn’t feel the Light any more. It was that sensation of absolute wrongness that had woken her from her thistle-laced sleep – the sensation of being cold and empty so unusual for her now. She carried the Light as an avatar of the Sunwell wherever she went; now, with so much trauma bearing down on her, so many people expecting her to pick up quickly and move on – it was dull, a hollow warmth compared to her normal sunshine. The guilt will kill her. They’d said the same about Atila, and Eleeria knew that the words rang true for herself as well. The guilt about Karis Sunseer would kill her, eating away at her confidence and faith in herself until she could only grasp for embers and ash rather than the force of the Sun.

Eleeria didn’t even bother to try and reach for that beautiful, healing magic she’d called on so thoroughly not hours before to resurrect her Initiate. On some small, damning level, she knew that it was beyond her for now as she wallowed in grief and self-pity. It should have hurt, knowing she’d not only broken Karis’ optimism but her own strength. But instead it was merely a dull ache, one of many inflicted by herself or others over the past long years.It should bother her. But at the moment, Eleeria couldn’t see anything but her own failures.

She had failed, hadn’t she?

Do you see it now, Little Sun? How great the cost is of your kind and gentle Light? A whisper, a breath in her ear. “Go away,” she mumbled. Her mind still felt dull with the remnants of bloodthistle, even as she stood up, hands gripping the sink with force as she stared into the mirror. Dulled golden eyes stared back at her; where normally they shone with the blessing of the Sunwell, tonight they seemed merely tired. Eleeria swore she could see the Thing from her knighthood trial hovering behind her, her tired gaze hovering somewhere in the middle distance as she focused on its shadowy twists and turns. “Stop haunting me. Stop following me. I want to be alone.”

It was silent for a long moment as it contemplated her words.

She could hear Weleria knocking on the door.

Do you understand now, the difficult task you’ve created for yourself? When the Thing spoke, it was gentle; it reminded Eleeria so much of her father, in those days after she’d lost her hand. Her father, carefully picking her up when she’d tried to take her own life, calling for a mender. She yearned to be held like that again – to have someone care for her when she could not for herself. Eleeria pulled the mirror open, revealing the drawers within. Fingers trailed the items inside, grasping the hilt of a knife that she slowly pulled from its hiding place.

“Yes.” Her answer was soft. Weleria’s increasingly anxious tone could be heard from outside the door – (”who are you talking to, Ellie?”) – but she couldn’t answer at the moment. Tired eyes shone back at her through polished metal as she examined the weapon she kept hidden in case of emergency.

Do you want to be done with this? To lay down this heavy burden?

“Yes.” She could feel the Thing’s cold fingers on her neck. It felt the same as it had all those days ago in the Ghostlands. Eleeria couldn’t breathe; her fingers slipped, the knife slicing her real palm deeply as it clattered into the sink. She gasped, in shock and sadness both, eyes locked on the Thing of the Void that seemed to dog her every step these days, waiting for the smallest doubt to make its entrance. “I want to be done. I’m so sad…”

Let me take it away from you. It was a lover’s embrace, the touch of shadow on her collarbone. Eleeria leaned back into the Creature’s hold, the sting of her palm a mute pain now. I could make it easier for you. We could do this together. Unlike that fickle magic, I’d never expect so much of you.

(”Eleeria, I’m giving you until the count of three to open the door!”)

“I…” She hesitated.

(”One!”)

Come to me, Eleeria. Its voice was so tempting. And yet– there was something still inside of her that recoiled at the thought. Promises, promises – but nothing solid. There was nothing tangible in those words. She could not see the benefit to herself through all the soft promises. There would be only damning, terrible darkness. And Eleeria would not be alone in the darkness any longer.

(”Two!”)

“Get fucked.”

She broke that connection – for a brief moment finding strength in her own surety. Her healing aura flared, filling the holes that had been so empty long minutes ago in the pit of her stomach, driving out the void. The Thing recoiled, hissing curses in tongues she had no understanding of aside from the malice contained in the tone.

She could not lose the Light. It hadn’t left her. Eleeria knew it had only waved because her own faith in herself had; she could not risk to lose either of them. She had to be strong. As the Thing in the Dark recoiled and seemed to disappear, its icy fingers leaving her neck, Eleeria turned, fumbling with bloody fingers to open the lock.

“Three–” Weleria’s soon to be kick at the door was ended as Eleeria stood there, feeling the monumental crush of her own sadness – but the gentle touch of her own magic once more, easing the burden so she didn’t have to carry it alone.

“I’m fine,” Eleeria whispered. Even as her lover wrapped her arms around Eleeria’s tiny frame and she relaxed into someone who genuinely cared for her, her magic flared around the injury she’d given herself, sealing it closed. “I thought about it, but I couldn’t do it. I’m okay. I promise.”

She let Weleria hold her, the forsaken woman’s fingers trailing her hair, until she fell back to sleep.