(IC) Prequel: Joren
Joren stopped digging abruptly, failing like a gleeman's puppet with a broken string, and only his bare chest moved, heaving like a bellows and gleaming in the sunlight. Sweat poured down his face and stung his eyes mercilessly, so he reached for his discarded shirt to wipe his forehead, and he just appreciated for a moment how much his back ached, and his arms and shoulders burned. The pain was a very welcome reprieve from his thoughts, and if he could have lifted the shovel again without a rest, he would have continued.
The graves were deep enough and then some, he knew, but acknowledging that fact meant that he must move onto the next step; if he stopped digging... then it was time to bury his parents. He glanced up to the sky to judge the angle of the sun and caught a glimpse of her, defiant in the doorway to his house. Even his his stupor of exhaustion, he took in her shocked face, and the rake she wielded like a spear, and the sudden understanding made him want to laugh. Instead, to his surprise he found that tears were washing away the sweat from his eyes, and he didn't know for how long they'd been streaming. He dropped the shovel to the ground, and put up his arms, even though they shook slightly from his exertion.
"I am Joren Nawaz," his voice was rough from dust and choked sobs, "and by the Light and my hope of rebirth you are not in danger from me, unless you be a Darkfriend. You are free to go if you like, I will not keep you. I found you fallen from your horse just over there," he nodded his head to indicate, "and brought you into my house to have my mother look after you. And then..." His voice broke and he had to fight to continue, "...then I found them sitting at their own kitchen table, with their own cups in their hands. They waited until I was at my chores and gave me no warning of their plans." He sank to his knees, and he couldn't see her any longer, the world was too blurry.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Mon 22 Apr.