A bit of writing, just to see if I could. :3
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Ismat ran, the blood pounding in his legs and heart and head, beating behind his eyes and blurring in his ears so that Halden’s shouts seemed to be coming from the surface of an ocean a million miles above, the water rushing all around so that the words were washed away before they crossed the distance to him. Someone, Silvain Feather, was running too, following, calling yelling at him to stop you fool, but he couldn’t stop, because if he stopped, he would be too late he was already too late and he wouldn’t be able to save him wasn’t able to save him—
Suddenly, his foot caught on uneven ground on exposed roots and he went sprawling in the grass through the trees (among the mushrooms), and Halden save Halden (who is Halden?) was thrown from his back and somehow, Ismat didn’t care—the world went dark and cold, and without warning a sound hit Ismat with blunt force, a strange, muted noise that he didn’t recognize, until he realized that the sound was his own voice, muffled by his body as he curled up curled up on himself and screamed, screamed and screamed until his throat tore.
A hand five fingers (three fingers) grabbed touched his shoulder (forehead) and shouted said his name, “Matt Ismat (Matty?)” and instinctively he reached for the hilt of his falchion fullblade. Someone yelled, and then hands were pulling at it, trying to take it away trying to take him away (put me down, leave me here, I want Graven). He tried to take it back, tried to fight, but there were too many hands surrounding him and he was too exhausted, too miserable, too much in pain and they wrenched it away, so that he couldn’t use it, couldn’t cut them couldn’t cut himself and he drew in on himself again, still screaming, screaming screaming (crying (silent)).
“Matty!” Halden Graven said, and Ismat Matty (who are you?) looked up but couldn’t see him through the images assaulting his vision, all light and colors, blue sky black clouds, green grass orange flames, a pink house and red, red, red mushrooms. He tried to cry in response, “Halden Graven (someone help us, please)” but the cry came out as just more noise, more endless static trying to fill up the empty world, lost in the roaring waves of the freezing ocean in which Ismat was sinking, sinking, sinking...
“Halden Graven,” Ismat tried to say through the screaming, through the water in his lungs, tried to whimper as he lay in bed poisoned (crying (feverish, Graven, I want water, please)), knowing that he might die tonight, so go away, Halden, go away because I don’t want you to see this (I don’t want you to know what I know (I don’t want you to see me die (I don’t want to see Graven die (if I eat this mushroom, I won’t see Graven die anymore)))).
He could feel Halden Graven staring at him even if he couldn’t see it, could feel the panic and worry overtaking his features as he wondered, Halden, why are you worrying, you’re the one who’s (sick, the child lay on the blanket on the ground, crying from fever; Graven placed his hand gently on Matty’s forehead until the cool metal grew warm (hot, so unbearably hot, that Matty’s skin blistered and he wailed even harder, inhaling smoke until he could no longer breathe (Siobhan, is this how it feels to die?))) as he continued to scream because he couldn’t fail this way again, couldn’t watch someone die because of him again—
“Your fault, it’s your fault,” the voices sang in whispers, the rustling wind and the trees and the (empty warforged heads) mushrooms of every color humming in his ears, staring at him with white spots like eyes and even though he clapped his hands over his ears and screamed to keep them at bay, they kept hissing, “your fault, your fault, your fault—“
(“It wasn’t your fault,” Cora said.)
“Matt,” Ismat heard Silvain shouting, could vaguely feel the shifter’s Deva’s hands gripping his shoulders shaking him roughly, “Valter’s just a dick, Halden’s not poisoned, he’s not dying Graven is dead, you don’t have to do this there’s nothing you can do now (why did you go that way, Matty, why did you make him have to save you?” ask the mushrooms as they pop up from the ground, from the well, from the rotting stumps (from the wood that was in Graven’s body (from his flesh as he lies dying and decaying the way he was supposed to)))—
Silvain Feather hit him then, “Matt, snap out of it wake up, you fool!” but Ismat couldn’t, he was lost poisoned (grieving (sick, dying at the age of seven) nine) twenty-six, submerged in water that kept growing colder and colder, until the ice was crystallizing in his bones and his lungs were exploding, being shredded into pieces (mushrooms sprouting from the carnage). He screamed out against the memories and the visions and what-ifs, what if he hadn’t gone out to the field that day, what if he’d known that Graven was faulty, what if (he sat jauntily on the wall above the moat, slinging his fish over his back and laughing at the irate little boy in the courtyard, before smiling at him as brightly as possible and running off, yelling, “Cora! Cora! I met the prince of Döt today—“)
The water swirled around and around, and grew darker as he fell and fell and fell…
And then the prince had caught him, was holding him around the shoulders, shaking, shaking, shaking crying terrified, and Ismat’s eyes snapped open, no, Halden, no, don’t be scared, don’t be scared Halden, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m always going to be here, nothing will ever stop me from being here for you,” he whispered as he lay in the bed, dying from poison and the weight of a thousand lies.
He choked and coughed weakly, and saliva blood (poison (icewater (acid))) trickled from the corner of his mouth because the smoke had torn up his throat and lungs (he’d vomited all night long, whimpering and begging Graven for water because the red mushrooms had turned to fire in his stomach). The air was swimming from the heat (the fever (the tears)), fire and mushrooms and warforged heads with empty eyes staring at him from everywhere (and silent, black birds taking to the sky all around, and they scared him, but he couldn’t be afraid now, because Halden needed him as they ran away from the castle and the atmosphere of death that hung everywhere (like heavy black clouds over a burning field) but he can’t) let himself think about that—
There was only one thought that could overrun all these visions, all these nightmares, and he repeated it over and over again in his mind, a mantra against the demons and the poison in his blood, whispered it, murmured it, said it, shouted it, Halden, Halden, Halden—
“Matty.”
“... Halden,” Ismat breathed.
Halden looked at him stared at him distrustfully (called him by name (smiled at him (let himself be carried)) for the first time (came to him with despair and empty eyes and Ismat needed no explanations), and Ismat’s vision seemed to be slowly coming back into focus, and the sun was beginning to warm the icy depths, finally. He slumped forward, exhausted, his eyes falling shut and his throat aching, but he was no longer screaming, and then Halden was there, holding him up, in the way he always did without ever knowing.
Then Ismat was sinking under again, but this time the water was calm, rippling peacefully over his head. Somewhere above, the sun was shining Halden was whispering (Feather was saying (Graven was smiling)) and the words the lie (the promise) were being told to him, don’t cry, don’t cry anymore, someday things will be all right.
Suddenly, his foot caught on uneven ground on exposed roots and he went sprawling in the grass through the trees (among the mushrooms), and Halden save Halden (who is Halden?) was thrown from his back and somehow, Ismat didn’t care—the world went dark and cold, and without warning a sound hit Ismat with blunt force, a strange, muted noise that he didn’t recognize, until he realized that the sound was his own voice, muffled by his body as he curled up curled up on himself and screamed, screamed and screamed until his throat tore.
A hand five fingers (three fingers) grabbed touched his shoulder (forehead) and shouted said his name, “Matt Ismat (Matty?)” and instinctively he reached for the hilt of his falchion fullblade. Someone yelled, and then hands were pulling at it, trying to take it away trying to take him away (put me down, leave me here, I want Graven). He tried to take it back, tried to fight, but there were too many hands surrounding him and he was too exhausted, too miserable, too much in pain and they wrenched it away, so that he couldn’t use it, couldn’t cut them couldn’t cut himself and he drew in on himself again, still screaming, screaming screaming (crying (silent)).
“Matty!” Halden Graven said, and Ismat Matty (who are you?) looked up but couldn’t see him through the images assaulting his vision, all light and colors, blue sky black clouds, green grass orange flames, a pink house and red, red, red mushrooms. He tried to cry in response, “Halden Graven (someone help us, please)” but the cry came out as just more noise, more endless static trying to fill up the empty world, lost in the roaring waves of the freezing ocean in which Ismat was sinking, sinking, sinking...
“Halden Graven,” Ismat tried to say through the screaming, through the water in his lungs, tried to whimper as he lay in bed poisoned (crying (feverish, Graven, I want water, please)), knowing that he might die tonight, so go away, Halden, go away because I don’t want you to see this (I don’t want you to know what I know (I don’t want you to see me die (I don’t want to see Graven die (if I eat this mushroom, I won’t see Graven die anymore)))).
He could feel Halden Graven staring at him even if he couldn’t see it, could feel the panic and worry overtaking his features as he wondered, Halden, why are you worrying, you’re the one who’s (sick, the child lay on the blanket on the ground, crying from fever; Graven placed his hand gently on Matty’s forehead until the cool metal grew warm (hot, so unbearably hot, that Matty’s skin blistered and he wailed even harder, inhaling smoke until he could no longer breathe (Siobhan, is this how it feels to die?))) as he continued to scream because he couldn’t fail this way again, couldn’t watch someone die because of him again—
“Your fault, it’s your fault,” the voices sang in whispers, the rustling wind and the trees and the (empty warforged heads) mushrooms of every color humming in his ears, staring at him with white spots like eyes and even though he clapped his hands over his ears and screamed to keep them at bay, they kept hissing, “your fault, your fault, your fault—“
(“It wasn’t your fault,” Cora said.)
“Matt,” Ismat heard Silvain shouting, could vaguely feel the shifter’s Deva’s hands gripping his shoulders shaking him roughly, “Valter’s just a dick, Halden’s not poisoned, he’s not dying Graven is dead, you don’t have to do this there’s nothing you can do now (why did you go that way, Matty, why did you make him have to save you?” ask the mushrooms as they pop up from the ground, from the well, from the rotting stumps (from the wood that was in Graven’s body (from his flesh as he lies dying and decaying the way he was supposed to)))—
Silvain Feather hit him then, “Matt, snap out of it wake up, you fool!” but Ismat couldn’t, he was lost poisoned (grieving (sick, dying at the age of seven) nine) twenty-six, submerged in water that kept growing colder and colder, until the ice was crystallizing in his bones and his lungs were exploding, being shredded into pieces (mushrooms sprouting from the carnage). He screamed out against the memories and the visions and what-ifs, what if he hadn’t gone out to the field that day, what if he’d known that Graven was faulty, what if (he sat jauntily on the wall above the moat, slinging his fish over his back and laughing at the irate little boy in the courtyard, before smiling at him as brightly as possible and running off, yelling, “Cora! Cora! I met the prince of Döt today—“)
The water swirled around and around, and grew darker as he fell and fell and fell…
And then the prince had caught him, was holding him around the shoulders, shaking, shaking, shaking crying terrified, and Ismat’s eyes snapped open, no, Halden, no, don’t be scared, don’t be scared Halden, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m always going to be here, nothing will ever stop me from being here for you,” he whispered as he lay in the bed, dying from poison and the weight of a thousand lies.
He choked and coughed weakly, and saliva blood (poison (icewater (acid))) trickled from the corner of his mouth because the smoke had torn up his throat and lungs (he’d vomited all night long, whimpering and begging Graven for water because the red mushrooms had turned to fire in his stomach). The air was swimming from the heat (the fever (the tears)), fire and mushrooms and warforged heads with empty eyes staring at him from everywhere (and silent, black birds taking to the sky all around, and they scared him, but he couldn’t be afraid now, because Halden needed him as they ran away from the castle and the atmosphere of death that hung everywhere (like heavy black clouds over a burning field) but he can’t) let himself think about that—
There was only one thought that could overrun all these visions, all these nightmares, and he repeated it over and over again in his mind, a mantra against the demons and the poison in his blood, whispered it, murmured it, said it, shouted it, Halden, Halden, Halden—
“Matty.”
“... Halden,” Ismat breathed.
Halden looked at him stared at him distrustfully (called him by name (smiled at him (let himself be carried)) for the first time (came to him with despair and empty eyes and Ismat needed no explanations), and Ismat’s vision seemed to be slowly coming back into focus, and the sun was beginning to warm the icy depths, finally. He slumped forward, exhausted, his eyes falling shut and his throat aching, but he was no longer screaming, and then Halden was there, holding him up, in the way he always did without ever knowing.
Then Ismat was sinking under again, but this time the water was calm, rippling peacefully over his head. Somewhere above, the sun was shining Halden was whispering (Feather was saying (Graven was smiling)) and the words the lie (the promise) were being told to him, don’t cry, don’t cry anymore, someday things will be all right.
