Her announcement, as plain as it was, made him stop. He did not turn to listen further, rather, Njal held his position in the snow and felt the mention of his wife creep along his flesh - like an ember being dragged from point to point. Echelon did not say her name (and to be honest, Njal did not think he would be able to handle it if she had), but the mention of their previous interaction seared him deeply. Njal had said her name only moments prior, but it was different. He sounded empty as the syllables slipped from his lips, while Echelon was reverent; paying respect to a woman she only knew as a part of Tartok, a part of a distant, eclectic family. That alone elevated Tuwawi above the norm, likely to Echelon as well as Tonravik, and he - Njal - should have held the same view. But for him Tuwawi was something else now. She was a fire, an inferno, but had become a distant thing. An unreachable, unconquerable goal. The unyielding phoenix - and not his any longer.
These thoughts flitted through him quickly, and faded when he began to march once more. Solemn. Until Echelon asked something new - something Njal had yet to truly face. Why did you leave her behind, alone there on that glacier?
Facing away from the dark girl, Njal visibly flinched; he grit his teeth to fight the urge of baring them, and sucked in a breath of ice. Tonravik learned her lesson, not to leave me behind again. Misfortune appears to follow it.
We left our friends in order to make our own way, and brought our children along. The glacier was meant to be our fortress.
Njal explained this swiftly, with clipped words - disinterested in telling her of every detail. It was not important now. Our youngest was stolen from us and I... I did what any father would. I pursued, hoping to find him - or a trace of him.
Again Njal stopped walking; he stared in to the snow drifts adjacent as if imagining the event, watching it play out between the rocks. When I returned.. The other children were gone. Tuwawi was gone.
And he was made bitter, so bitter. The anger resided within him now but it had cooled; still, Njal did not trust himself. I tried to care for our remaining daughter, and yet... I found myself hating her, too.
At this he turned - a look of panic upon his face, filling the gold of his eyes with a sudden electric vibrancy.
Hating her - my own blood. The last piece of family I had left. It was pathetic.
Njal had never voiced this before. He was the calm one, even in defeat, the immovable mountain. Tuwawi had been the fire, the heart, the ferocity that kept him going. He did not know what to expect by telling Echelon this — but maybe it just needed to be said. Maybe the tale just needed to exist in the empty space of the north. Tuwawi returned, but she returned alone. And I despised her for that. I chose to leave, to make her become a mother again, without me by her side. I was so angry-
Njal kicked at a nearby clump of snow, and watched as it drifted, finding a place upon the untouched patches around them both; the snow settled, as if he had never made the move. A great breath eased from him. -and so I left.
That is why I left her behind. So tell me, dark one,
The life seemed to drain from him now, as Njal slowly turned to look upon the young girl; his expression was hollow, just like that first meeting between the trio just days ago. How do I restore my family when I don't deserve to share the air they breathe?