Hushed Willows Nowhere to turn

As Olive always did, she regretted going negative — she saw how it poisoned a situation, and angered the man in front of her, but there were many things that needed to be said to anyone who came to her doorstep and demanded information of her. Though Drakonis was heated and speaking unkindly, when he finally explained why his life’s quest was to find his father, Olive finally came to a sense of understanding and her biting accusations quieted.

She could understand the need to know where one came from — she, herself, had grown up with both of her parents and mused for a moment how absolutely dreadful it would be to not have known either of them, or glean knowledge from their many wisdoms. The shakti looked at the ground, displeased how this situation must sour because Drakonis had moved with her, carried her own children as babies from place to place as they followed the blackbird to the hushed willows, and she owed him the truth. The truth, unfortunately, was most sour.

 “That, I can understand,” the woman said simply, almost in apology — both for her harsh words, and the words that would come next. “He would have been happy to know that you were alive. He talked about you all and Oxsana… often.” Almost Dakarai’s entire existence had been in a state of seeking revenge, and he held his motives near and dear to his heart. Dakarai’s tragedies identified him, and gave him a reason for being. The sadness was addictive — this, Olive also understood. 

She pulled in breath and then held it very briefly, not sure how to say this next sentence. Dakarai’s death had been an ordeal that she truly hadn’t had to reckon with, to the detriment of Dakarai’s noble memory — sunspire had thanked her for ridding the world of a monster, after all. He hadn’t deserved such treatment, but it was a necessary evil at the time. “I loathe to be the one to tell you this, but I suppose very few wolves could.” The sylph gave a gravid paused. “Dakarai is dead.” She let this information sink in for a moment, but quickly ushered the conversation onwards. “I won’t lie to you either. It was at your half-sister Cassiopeia’s jaws.” such an admission was not the most protective of motherly actions, but she was tired of lying about it. As far as Olive knew, Cassiopeia was far from here and safe from any potential harm.

Stone-cold realness returned to her voice. “I don’t want to sully your fallacy of him, but it was a death that he deserved.” As a young wolf who had built this imaginary knight up in his head, Olive knew this was not likely to convince Drakonis to come to reason, but it was necessary for him to know the nature of his father’s death, if Drakonis truly wanted to know Dakarai. “He was a volatile man who did not think things through, but he was undying loyal and brave. I loved him with my entire soul.” Olive felt a familiar stab in her heart, and knew she did not want to visit this subject any longer.

“His bones lay at the summit of the sunspire mountain, if you wish to seek them out.”