Moonspear you wouldn’t leave 'til we loved in the morning

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The woman grit her teeth as Dakarai continued to challenge her funereal arbitration. His words reached through the bones of her ribcage to grasp at her heart and wrench it; the pain of which rose high up her neck and sunk deep into her stomach. Her legs shuddered with tremulous breaths, but she would stand to face the brunt of his anger. It was she who caused him so much pain, she who decided their marriage was at an end, she who did it all! She deserved his anger. It was cosmic karma, in action.

So the druid must stand to bear the pain, his pain, everyone’s pain — doing as such was her lot in life, as a self-imposed anchorite.

But still — the wastrel gave feeble attempts to stem the flow of hurtful words that sprouted from the man’s beautiful, sweet mouth; but all were drowned out by the lamenting of Dakarai’s extreme sorrows. Olive’s torment mirrored his own, but the lamb found herself to be a silent type when experience a rush of emotions; no matter if that rush stem from somewhere happy, sad or sensual. “Dakarai,” she beseeched him softly, he voice but a whisper. “Please…”

Olive couldn’t even remember the reason why, and in the face of such sadness, this made it ever the more difficult. It was a commandment by the gods, this she knew, but the spiritual revelation she experienced in the altar of twilight was gone — eroded by the buffeting of Dakarai’s words. Why was she doing this? Why was she standing there, watching her husband weep when she could rush to embrace him and kiss away his every woe, from then until the end of time. To promise him that everything would be alright. They’d get Sirius back and establish themselves in Moonspear and everything would be good. But instead she actively turned away the man who loved her, the father of her children, who pledged himself mind, body and soul to her [and she to he!], all at the behest of some… celestial sentence that was too far above her to understand. Why? What kind of god would do this?

There was a reason — had to be — and until her incoherent mind cleared later, she would simply have to have divine faith. 

“I will never love another.” her voice came as a soft aria, eye pleading — but Olive did not know for what.

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