RP:A Funeral For a Witch?

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: In the aftermath of Kahrans attack and Valraes curse, Cadence stumbles upon the Berserker, who is acting quite strange; seeking to bury those witches who have been slain. She joins him for a funeral, and then continues to offer him help.

Labor Camp in the Forest

It might truly be an odd thing to watch this once battle hardened Berserker sift through the damage of the labor camp. By sifting, I mean pieces of the once standing wall, are being shifted. He was searching for something, but what? The evidence of battle still lies strewn about the Labor camp; a carcass here or there. Heck even a few weapons litter the area. However, Eirik is unarmed. His infamous devices are no longer dangling from his side. In fact the majority of his armor is not even equipped. Instead he wears only that silver stitched black leather Jerkin, black woolen pants and a red cloak. Well calloused hands shift another piece of debris and dissatisfaction smears over his visage. He gives a sigh, washing away frustration from his mind. It had only been two days since the attack; forty eight hours since he had been cursed with empathy towards witches. His mind is fraught with things it had never experienced. He is still sick - mostly of himself. Gritting his teeth, he steels his resolve and free’s one last piece of the toppled wall. This time he is relieved to set sights upon what he sought. A woman, who happens to be middle aged. A witch he himself had cut down just two nights ago. His silver eyes stare upon her as if lost in some memory. Caught up in what she must have felt at the very end.

Cadence had returned to her bestial form, a large obsidian wolf. For some reason, it felt safer that way. It had only been 48 hours yes, but the pixie had been doing all she could to return the city to a state of civility. Today, Cadence was spending her time giving the dead a ‘proper’ send off. When she’d find the remains of one slaughtered in battle, she’d take a moment of silence before placing her muzzle to their body. Vines and roots would force their way up through the wreckage debris and soil, wrapping the fallen ones in their vibrant green hues before slipping them into the earth. Where the bodies once were, now sprouted healthy green grass and a colorful array of flowers. She’d take her time with this process as each person deserved the utmost respect, their bodies would now give new life to this sad place. Before she could move on to the next though, someone caught her eye. His face rather familiar, but his attire as well as his disposition were completely different. Cadence trotted over, stopping a distance away as to not intrude, “… Hello, sir?”

Eirik isn’t even sure what he’s going to do. Not at the moment. The only thing that even fills the entire breadth of his mind is this dead woman before him. He had mercilessly cut her down, and for what? Wait. He sets his teeth hard again, still fighting those feelings building inside. The more he fought them, the harder they were to look past. This would be a very difficult lesson for him to learn. He actually felt sorry for this witch, more so than he did for any other ally lost. Normally an entrance such as this obsidian wolf, would have been noticed long before it spoke. Its’ words jar him from a harsh inner world and as his features twist, she might spot that gruesome scar across his visage - it had always been there. It’s one of his most powerful identification marks. This man is Eirik, Larkets witch-killer and torturer extraordinaire. Caught up in a place where none would expect him. A half frowned greeting is given in response, obviously his mind still lay elsewhere. “Hello,” Eiriks voice is soft and grainy like rocks being crushed beneath a weighted boot. Silver eyes shift back to the woman he had unearthed just moments ago.

It had been some time since Cadence had been to Larket, and even then they were short visits. Oddly enough, she knew nothing of this man except that a few nights ago he participated in the battle, as well as she. To Cadence, he seemed simply a man, grieving over the death of someone. Not too uncommon after a battle. The wolf moved quietly towards him, her soft green eyes shifting to the body he’d been looking to. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sir. It was horrible, what happened the other night…” She sat beside him.

Eirik still fought back the swell of emotion that threatened to obliterate the near serene quality his scarred visage tried to carry. What was the point in keeping such a ruse? In the end it only betrayed himself, and it did nothing to prevent those globs of salty liquid from welling up in his eyes for moments. Beyond just his mental state, he looks positively exhausted. How long had he been at this, alone? Like Cadence, he too had been searching for those who had been slain; though his quest spurs on from something deeper within himself. “I…” He stammers for a few moments, trying to figure out how best to describe what’s actually happening. “She was a lively woman for her age.” Eirik had been ‘blessed’ with all of her emotions and could easily say as much. “An inner fire that never seemed to go out.” Eirik leans forward and continues to clear small particles off her body. “Even called the Queen a bitch once,” he was smiling at that, which confused him terribly. He harbored no ill will towards the Queen at -all-. Though somehow he found the humor in her words. “She’s dead because of me.” He pulls the body towards himself and scoops her up into his arms, the sight of a sword wound upon her back might be visible for moments. “I cut her down two nights ago, because she was nothing more than a witch to me. A second rate citizen.” Those salty globs finally coalesce and stream down his features. “Even while Larket burned and I helped to defend it, I cut her down.” He gave her no chance to escape. A proper burial would be given to her in a form of respects for who she was. Eirik would see to this himself.

Cadence listened to the words that Eirik spoke. A smile graced her muzzle as he told her of the woman’s liveliness. She held back a slight chuckle at the comment about the queen but, that warmth quickly faded as he spoke of cutting down the woman. Why did he care now? Was he part of the unholy torture that was taking place inside these very walls before that horrific night? Part of the reason those screams echoed so loudly through the dark town of Larket...? The wolf stood, moving behind the man and pressing her muzzle into his back, “You were a part of those atrocities that were going on before that night… You—” She stopped herself before she could say something unnecessarily painful. This was not the time to express her disapproval of his actions against the witches. The man was clearly filled with regret, sorrow for the things he had done, this must have something to do with what happened between him and that witch during the battle. Her head flattened against his back, “I know I’m no one to you but, I want you to know that I am here for you. You made mistakes, terrible ones. But it’s never too late to right your wrongs.”

Eirik only has the strength to mutter in response, “Those atrocities you speak of, started because of me.” He had no idea who this wolf was, but found himself appreciative of her company. Sure the camps had been unfair to witches before his time, but the torturous events started because of Eiriks hunt for information from a group who -hated- the crown. Now, of all things, he understood them and why. They were part of his own emotions, no matter how much he tried to fight them. Valraes curse is an ongoing problem. One which will not cease in his restless mind. The Berserker stands and begins to walk north at a pace that Cadence could easily follow; taking this witch with him.

Cadence followed along beside him. Her eyes surveying the wreckage along the way, rubble and debris scattered about. It was quiet, funny how the sounds of war still echoed in her head, and most likely in Eirik’s heart. “Do they ever go away…?” The wolf spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly. That night was the first time she’d ever witnessed things so heinous and sinister. She was the self-proclaimed ‘Protectress of Enchantment!’ and here she stood, devastated from her first real encounter. “T—the sounds of their screams… The smell of death all around… Do you ever forget?” The wolf’s head now hung low, her eyes fixated on the ground, slowing her a bit as she now followed along behind him.

Edge of the Eternal Forest

Eirik didn’t know how to answer her question. Though truthfully, he had never thought about such a thing. Not once. A fault of his dominating and unyielding nature. He still carried the slain woman in his arms whilst they walked through the wreckage north into the edge of the eternal forest. He suddenly stops in his tracks and looks down to Cadence. “I wish I could tell you that you’ll forget.” Eirik could remember those he had killed hundreds of years ago. The Lycan had been around for a long time. Though they used to be stories of praise. Now he feared they would be remembered as regrets. Of terrible deeds which he will always be stained with. “The smell will fade in time, but certain things might trigger your memories.” He offers her a knowing frown and then continues to walk forward until he reaches a spot near an oak tree and puts her down. A shovel and pile of stones sit nearby as well; hinting that Eirik had been here before. The normally beast filled woods seem empty right now, and unusually quiet. “Do you think this is a good spot?” Beyond the eerie quiet, it is quite beautiful here and Eirik hoped her grave could sort of mark the occasion. He’d even seek to have a headstone made for this woman.

Cadence shook the thoughts out of her head. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on these thoughts. Today, this was Larket’s tragedy, but tomorrow this could be Her homeland. With the queen gone, the future of Enchantment was unsettlingly uncertain. If she was wrought with emotion, who’d protect her forest? Cadence looked up at Eirik, then back to the tree. Stepping forward and sitting in front of it. Her muzzle lifted to the sky as sunlight trickled through the leaves and sparkled off her black fur, a breeze rustling her fur as well as the tree’s leaves serenely. Finally, she would bow her head; standing and walking back to Eirik, “She would be honored to share her land with this woman.” Cadence had been communing with the Oak, who had graciously accepted the offer.

Eirik didn’t know what she was doing until he saw it for himself. Signs of her magical communication. The wind, the sunlight. All of it. Was this wolf really communicating with the tree? “Thank you,” he had never done this before. Nor had he even felt this way. Back home his people were cast onto a pyre and burned with their belongings. Something inside of him screamed that it wouldn’t be right for this woman. Calloused hands grasp the shovel, before he goes to work, being careful as he digs to not crush any of the roots he might dig up. The wolf had spoken as if the tree itself had accepted the woman he is about to bury. It might be best to respect it. Eirik would take his time, grunting at the task and asking for no help along the way. He didn’t expect any from her. And wondered if his silence was an unwelcome aspect of being in his presence. If one thing could be said about the man it’s this: He is determined as ever. His physical prowess makes short work of an otherwise daunting task. Before long a hole deep enough to bury her in is created, and Eirik places her inside of it before climbing back out. “Do people usually speak at these things?” He twists his dirt covered features to Cadence.

Cadence watched as the man dug the grave. She would have offered a hand (or paw, technically), but this seemed like an important moment for him and him alone. She wouldn’t intrude. His strength, resilience and endurance were rather impressive. The silence allowed her to observe more clearly, her soft green eyes never leaving his form as he moved. His heart and intent bare. As he finished up and turned to her she smiled, “Some do. It’s not necessary though, she can hear your heart.” The wolf nodded, “She’s the only one who needs to hear it right now.” Cadence moved to sit beside the tree, quietly nestled within its shade.

Eirik watched Cadence as she spoke and listened intently to her words. It’s not necessary. Though for some reason, beyond his own personal ability to fathom; he feels the need to. It’s something that stirs within him, perhaps another marking from that curse. A component that says he must do so. “Martha,” Eirik looks down upon the middle aged woman within the grave. He had never even spoken her name to Cadence until now. “What I’ve done can never be forgiven.” Eirik folds his hands before him. “The life I’ve taken from you, cannot be given back. Nor can I return you living to the ones who I’ve taken you from.” This is the truth of things. “I have learned a lesson from you, that I will never forget, and through that lesson, and this great tree, you have a chance at living on.” His head falls, eyes cast to the ground before him. “I’m sorry.” Hands unclasp at the revelation of his inner world. “Please rest peacefully.” Eirik takes a moment to wipe the sheen of emotion from his features and then works to cover Martha up. When he finishes, he looks towards Cadence. “Thank you again, friend.” He still has yet to offer up his own name or even ask for hers, but somehow he feels comfortable in the wolf's presence. “Would you mind helping me with the others?” His eyes twist southwards. Eirik intended to continue.

Cadence tilted her head as he began to speak of his on accord, not in confusion—he simply caught her offguard. His words felt ever sincere, a warmth building in her chest at seeing this side of him. This was a completely different man from the other night. Whatever that witch had done to him, would mark a new way of life for this man. He could be the one to turn Larket completely around, restore beauty to a place that had fallen so far from grace. The wolf nodded at the request, standing and walking to his side. She’d gladly assist him in any way she could.

Eirik started to walk southwards and finally airs the single question that should have been asked so long ago. "What's your name?"

Cadence chuckled lightly, “Oh—I’m Cadence, of Enchantment. It’s nice to meet you.” She trotted along, a slight pep in her step that wasn’t there a moment ago. “and what’s your name, Sir?”

Eirik smiled, not used to being called Sir. "Eirik. Just, Eirik."

Cadence pressed her head against his hip, “It’s nice to meet you, Just Eirik.” Cadence would continue for the rest of the afternoon helping him to move bodies from the labor camp and burying them amongst the beautiful oak. “She’s happy to be surrounded by so many beautiful souls.” Cadence smiled to Eirik. As they made the final walk to the tree, the earth beneath Cadence’s feet flattened out into a pathway. She sat beneath the tree one last time, muzzle raised to the sky. The earth shook for but a second as bushes of beautiful flowers burst from the earth on both sides of the pathway and encircling the tree. “Now Larket’s people will have a beautiful place to visit their loved ones who were lost.” She thanked the tree with a bow.