The Bloody Dawn

"You killed them, Dagramir. They're dead because of you. Look back at all the rotting corpses you left in your wake. You deserve to die for the things you have done. Yet you failed to even kill yourself. Do you hear their screams, 'Black Viper'? Do you?!"
 

Neyaa visits the grave of Rossethor Cirdain, having received a missive from his wife Nimeway to tell her he recently passed away, peacefully in his sleep. She places some flowers upon his grave, with this note attached.

My Dearest Rossethor,

The pain was unbearable. Intense, throbbing pain unlike anything Taraborn had felt before. It felt like a troll was pounding against his head over and over. The solid, uneven surface he was lying on was not his bed. He slowly opens his eyes, only to quickly squeeze them shut and shield them with his hand. It was as though the light were daggers entering his skull. Slowly he gets accustomed to the light and looks about, still needing to shield his eyes.

Although it has been several days since my utter humiliation and likely end to whatever it was that I shared with Seaver. I cannot get the look on his face out of my mind, I shudder each and every time I picture it, like a hammer blow to the chest. As much as I had thrown myself back into everything that must go on as normal, my thoughts have been consumed with it and continuously playing out a different outcome, one where I had stilled my tongue instead and kept my heart in check.

Written on the other side of the parchment in an almost hurried manner.

What have I gone and done? It is as if all sanity left me, took on a form of it's own and uttered the words I have so carefully tried to conceal. It was as if I were on the outside, watching this unfold through a window, time slowed, agonizingly slow, and I hammered my fists upon thickened glass, trying to break through and stop the madness that was unraveling afore me. What was I thinking of? What possessed me?

At least Aanya's anger has subsided a little. Of course she has forgiven Seaver, I am of course to blame for it all even though it is an act performed by two. She baked him one of her pies. Since the guard who wronged her has been reassigned, the poor girl is no longer afraid to venture into that part of the village. She returned a little later, all smiles, it seems the pie never reached Seaver after all, his men, flattered her so much, she agreed they may eat the pie amongst them, and she enjoyed an hour or so in their company.