Silver and Cold
Vhalar 22 715, Late Night
Location: Dust Quarter
Patrick’s lungs felt small but at the same time heavy, he’d been given the news that something happened. That he needed to meet with Kar down in the Dust Quarter, and that he had to see it for himself in order to understand. None of the knights that were his escort said a thing, but then they didn’t even have to at this point. It was Dom. He’d gone and done something stupid now, managed to hurt himself or possibly worse! Part of Patrick hoped and even felt the desire to pray, pray that the Fates or even the Immortals were kind tonight.
They’d reached the gate and moved on through into the quarter with haste, the march of the knights met with the same tempo of Pat’s own pace. Dominek had to be okay, simply put he had to be fine. Maybe it had something to do with Kar himself, or maybe Kar knew something important that Pat had to hear. Something about Dom that wasn’t entirely awful but still bad news! Oh Fates please let him be fine, please oh please let his older brother be just fine. “Right around the corner here.” One of the knights murmured as they reached another street to turn on, pretty soon Patrick had the sight set before him.
A few guards were stationed in a group while a couple of others seemed to walk around, maybe investigate the area and make sure they were secure there. At the feet of the group however were two figures on the ground, one that sat down next to a sheet of some sort that covered a body. It was Kar. Ilaren’s filthy mug it was Kar sitting down, and the covered figure he looked down over? It couldn’t be, no there was just no way that it was. “Dom?! Dom?!!” Patrick cried out in a panic which alerted the others of his arrival, and the group was courteous enough to provide him room.
Kar remained next to the body with his eyes red and glassy, his hands and tunic soaked red in dried blood. “Patrick! I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything! By the time I’d found him he was already down, I just- I-”
Patrick didn’t wait any longer to see the sick joke that awaited him, the fabric yanked off of the figure to reveal the body of his older brother. Dominek. His eyes were empty as they stared into nothing, his skin already paled and cold as Patrick fell into a overly state of shock. His stomach twisted tightly and then plummeted, the air in his lungs no longer present as he couldn’t find himself able to breathe. Dominek was… dead.
No. No, no, no, no he couldn’t be dead! Dominek would never allow himself to die, he was too heroic and stubborn to just die! The younger brother felt the entire world crumble into darkness around him, his constricted lungs finally released their constrained air into a horrible sob. Patrick who had knelt to see the proof of this, then fell heavy on both knees as he scooted Dominek’s head onto his lap. “Dom! Dom please! No Dom! Dominek no!” He pleaded desperately as his vision blurred the entire world before him, hot salty tears stung the surface of his face and eyes as he leaned down to rest his forehead onto his brother.
“Dominek!! Dammit Dominek!!” He screamed aloud as he felt hands rest upon his shoulders, and then he made selfish jerks to remain at his brother’s side for a little longer. The knight wasn’t dead! He couldn’t be! This wasn’t meant to happen! All this time spent being the good guy, looking out for everyone and now? Now he’s dead?! Patrick’s own cries did nothing, no act of Gods or even the powers that were intervened. Nobody did a thing. Patrick remained in his position as he continued to bawl, his hands desperately clung to his brother’s body as he waited.
He waited. Then waited. And then waited more. Yet no matter how long he waited there with sobs and cries for his brother, not a damn thing happened other than the knights doing their civic duty. Patrick knew Kar meant well at this point but he just wanted to be alone, to remain isolated with his brother for however long he could. Yet eventually he had to leave so they could investigate, and even when he fought back hard to remain, the knights had the numbers and manpower to say otherwise. He’d been escorted home finally although most of the way he’d almost been carried, crippled by the haunting image of his brother who laid fallen on the street.
When he’d been taken home he found little sleep that night, with it being as late as it were upon the discovery, the late night had nearly stretched into the early hours of the morning. The entire time he’d been placed under ‘house arrest’ and watched by the knights, he’d done nothing but remain in bed with the intent to wake up and find all this a vivid nightmare. Still sleep practically never came. Patrick wept so much his eyes were red and sore, and by the time they’d been given any decent rest, the funeral for his brother would soon follow within the day. He dreaded the very thought of it, the idea of him being alone now that his brother was gone.
What would he do? How would he be able to rest knowing his brother was gone? There would never be a time where he accepted this, never be a time where he’d come to terms with the loss of his only family. Dom. How could he be dead? He was literally just fine last night, merely went out on patrol as per usual. He’d stopped by to check in with Patrick and even had a couple of drinks, and then went on like everything was perfectly normal in their life. Because it was! Nothing! Not a damn thing was wrong when he last saw his brother, and now all of a sudden Dominek was just… gone?!
He clutched at the object in his hand that he hadn't been able to let go of, it was the silver pendant that looked like a compass. Dom had worn it ever since their mother passed, and now he was gone just like she was. Fates be damned! Why was it him?! He was one of the good guys, one of the best people Patrick knew! Fuck! He just wanted to swear and throw anything, everything actually, in his way like a violent tantrum. Yet he felt too tired, too weak and puny to even try. He’d been knocked severely down by what he’d seen, and with the morning nearly at its birth… he had to be ready to face the new day. Alone.
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Dominek’s pyre had been built by the knights as Patrick had been greeted multiple times, consoled by how much people felt sorry for his sudden loss. People that he barely knew save for their familiar faces, it had been an event some attended though nothing big. Everybody there knew though who Dominek was and knew of Patrick’s loss, though they could never understand the pain and loneliness that quickly devoured him inside. With the drinks passed around and the pyre finally set ablaze, Patrick watched as the fire slowly consumed the wood beneath his brother’s body.
In a short period of time the entire pyre was engulfed in flames as many who attended drank, honored the memory of his brother with whatever sentimental bullshit they had to offer. Patrick on the other hand did nothing, he merely watched as the body burned with the pyre in front of him. With a look down at the pendant once more he scowled, a bitterly taken guzzle made from the bottle of alcohol he’d kept to himself. With the entire pyre now burning and the heat sweltering the memorial, he turned his back to it and the people that were there.
Patrick… turned his back on everything. From then on the only solace and comfort he could find, was the kind that came in the form of a bottle filled with alcohol.
