Hate is poison. [Lahabrea mutters out loud, his eyes still closed.] It gradually poisons the soul, destroying the victim's sense of morality and logic. It is a poison that will not stop until the host dies.
[His eyes flutter open slowly, their once brilliant red glow faded with exhaustion.]
The only way to counteract such a poison is to avoid being poisoned in the first place.
[However, this is easier said than done for Lahabrea. His thoughts are not solely focused on Etheirys' demise. While his son and he had a very rocky relationship, knowing that Erichthonios is long dead hurts him far deeper than any wound. It's the reason Lahabrea spent weeks combing through every hall of the Amberfall Library in search of answers. Guilt over his son's death is driving him insane. He hides this from Frieda out of fear of being judged. A leader like him does not have the time to grieve. He must work to ensure that the bleak future he witnessed does not come to pass while the opportunity remains.
Lahabrea lets out a quiet hum as he feels something press against his hand, causing a strange sensation within him. Is this comfort? It's been a long time since he felt anything close to comfort. It feels strange, even foreign. Perhaps it has something to do with the strange magic pulsating between them. This realm's magic is strikingly similar to that of Etheirys while also being very different.]
I apologize for burdening you with my troubles, Frieda. [He mutters quietly out of embarrassment.] Mayhap my self-imposed isolation has made me too eager speak. I wish not to burden you any further, especially since I know my story will only end in death.
[After some hesitation, Lahabrea reaches over with his other hand and gently pats Frieda's.]
Nevertheless, I thank you for allowing me to speak.
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Date: 2024-01-25 06:41 pm (UTC)[His eyes flutter open slowly, their once brilliant red glow faded with exhaustion.]
The only way to counteract such a poison is to avoid being poisoned in the first place.
[However, this is easier said than done for Lahabrea. His thoughts are not solely focused on Etheirys' demise. While his son and he had a very rocky relationship, knowing that Erichthonios is long dead hurts him far deeper than any wound. It's the reason Lahabrea spent weeks combing through every hall of the Amberfall Library in search of answers. Guilt over his son's death is driving him insane. He hides this from Frieda out of fear of being judged. A leader like him does not have the time to grieve. He must work to ensure that the bleak future he witnessed does not come to pass while the opportunity remains.
Lahabrea lets out a quiet hum as he feels something press against his hand, causing a strange sensation within him. Is this comfort? It's been a long time since he felt anything close to comfort. It feels strange, even foreign. Perhaps it has something to do with the strange magic pulsating between them. This realm's magic is strikingly similar to that of Etheirys while also being very different.]
I apologize for burdening you with my troubles, Frieda. [He mutters quietly out of embarrassment.] Mayhap my self-imposed isolation has made me too eager speak. I wish not to burden you any further, especially since I know my story will only end in death.
[After some hesitation, Lahabrea reaches over with his other hand and gently pats Frieda's.]
Nevertheless, I thank you for allowing me to speak.