Post by Namari Lovelle on Sept 9, 2012 16:13:14 GMT -5
She didn't know what the time was when she awoke. Maybe a few hours after she faced Steele, maybe a few days. She didn't know anything had even happened as she slowly drifted into consciousness. She was in pain, but figured it was because she might have slept uncomfortably. And as her eyes slowly opened, the Queen furrowed her eyebrows. Why was she in the infirmary?
Those few seconds of peace in her mind went away as Namari remembered the whole ordeal. The storm, getting arrested, trying to get into the castle. It all hit her, and she soon got a headache. Now the Queen lay there, frustrated and upset at herself. Those people had died because of her. She had murdered three guards, a child!
And what of her friends? Walter, Ethan, Roe, the remaining citizens, the Elite. Was Roland still in jail? Where had Xavier been? Were the werewolves alright? Did her faithful dragon get caught up in the storm? And where was Steele? Was he still changed back?
Namari tried sitting up, but slumped back down as pain etched into her. That's when she remembered the many wounds she had gathered. Reluctantly, she slid down the sleeve of her arm with her teeth. On her shoulder an ugly scar rested. Namari herself had no clue what magic could do about it, but she shook it off. She didn't even want to see her stomach.
The room was empty, completely white. The door closed. She felt alone, deserted. And she wanted nothing more than to get up and find someone she knew, someone that was dear to her. More than anything she wanted that person to be Steele, but at that point she would take anyone.
The Queen felt so guilty, so powerless. She was filled with sadness, and a rage towards the ones who did this to her city. And yet, even the slightest, she felt a bit happy. They were gone, for now. She had done everything she could to save as many as possible. And Steele was back. And he loved her. And that made her have the strength to try and get up.
Certainly even the strength of love has limits. Namari Sat up very slowly, biting down on her tongue as the pain skyrocketed. The elven woman was in no position to be doing this, her body too weak and tired. She needed rest. But in her mind she needed to know that everything was alright, and that no one was being killed. She grabbed at her chest in pain, but continued, beginning to swing her legs over the bedside to stand up.
Those few seconds of peace in her mind went away as Namari remembered the whole ordeal. The storm, getting arrested, trying to get into the castle. It all hit her, and she soon got a headache. Now the Queen lay there, frustrated and upset at herself. Those people had died because of her. She had murdered three guards, a child!
And what of her friends? Walter, Ethan, Roe, the remaining citizens, the Elite. Was Roland still in jail? Where had Xavier been? Were the werewolves alright? Did her faithful dragon get caught up in the storm? And where was Steele? Was he still changed back?
Namari tried sitting up, but slumped back down as pain etched into her. That's when she remembered the many wounds she had gathered. Reluctantly, she slid down the sleeve of her arm with her teeth. On her shoulder an ugly scar rested. Namari herself had no clue what magic could do about it, but she shook it off. She didn't even want to see her stomach.
The room was empty, completely white. The door closed. She felt alone, deserted. And she wanted nothing more than to get up and find someone she knew, someone that was dear to her. More than anything she wanted that person to be Steele, but at that point she would take anyone.
The Queen felt so guilty, so powerless. She was filled with sadness, and a rage towards the ones who did this to her city. And yet, even the slightest, she felt a bit happy. They were gone, for now. She had done everything she could to save as many as possible. And Steele was back. And he loved her. And that made her have the strength to try and get up.
Certainly even the strength of love has limits. Namari Sat up very slowly, biting down on her tongue as the pain skyrocketed. The elven woman was in no position to be doing this, her body too weak and tired. She needed rest. But in her mind she needed to know that everything was alright, and that no one was being killed. She grabbed at her chest in pain, but continued, beginning to swing her legs over the bedside to stand up.