Richard, King of Windor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ledbythewind) wrote2014-08-24 11:13 pm
ledbythewind) wrote2014-08-24 11:13 pm
[Action/Voice]
[Having to wake Asbel up in the mornings isn't anything out of the ordinary for Richard. In fact, it's become a routine of sorts by now, as his friend is a notoriously heavy sleeper who often needs the assistance of a pillow to the head or the scent of a fresh bowl of curry to lure him into wakefulness.
Today, however, he can tell right away that something is wrong when he opens the door, even if he can't see anything. The room is too quiet, too still, and his heart suddenly feels as if it's being squeezed in a vise. It's a struggle just to get Asbel's name past his lips in what is more of a plea than anything else. He doesn't even care that he almost trips over Tiger Festival on his way to the bed; he's just reaching out to feel the blankets, because surely Asbel is just sleeping too deeply to hear him, that has to be it...
... only the bed is empty, made up properly, as if no one has ever slept in it. There isn't even any warmth left to signal that Asbel had been sleeping there not long ago. Desperately he straightens up and gropes his way to the closet door, opening it to reach inside and feel for the clothing that he knows should be there, but that too is empty.
And even though he knows what that means, he doesn't want to accept it. He doesn't want to accept that his friend is gone. Numb, he reaches for his journal and fumbles it open, because he owes Asbel at least that much.]
Asbel Lhant has returned home to Ephinea.
[Composed as ever, even though his heart is breaking. That accomplished, he shuts the journal before he has to deal with anyone offering sympathies. He'll respond later, but right now the pain is too raw. He just doesn't have the heart to have to face the fact that Asbel is gone over and over again.
Instead, he sets the journal down and curls up in Asbel's bed, which by some miracle still smells like him. Now, for the first time, the darkness that Richard has become so accustomed to feels cold and oppressive and utterly lonely.]
Today, however, he can tell right away that something is wrong when he opens the door, even if he can't see anything. The room is too quiet, too still, and his heart suddenly feels as if it's being squeezed in a vise. It's a struggle just to get Asbel's name past his lips in what is more of a plea than anything else. He doesn't even care that he almost trips over Tiger Festival on his way to the bed; he's just reaching out to feel the blankets, because surely Asbel is just sleeping too deeply to hear him, that has to be it...
... only the bed is empty, made up properly, as if no one has ever slept in it. There isn't even any warmth left to signal that Asbel had been sleeping there not long ago. Desperately he straightens up and gropes his way to the closet door, opening it to reach inside and feel for the clothing that he knows should be there, but that too is empty.
And even though he knows what that means, he doesn't want to accept it. He doesn't want to accept that his friend is gone. Numb, he reaches for his journal and fumbles it open, because he owes Asbel at least that much.]
Asbel Lhant has returned home to Ephinea.
[Composed as ever, even though his heart is breaking. That accomplished, he shuts the journal before he has to deal with anyone offering sympathies. He'll respond later, but right now the pain is too raw. He just doesn't have the heart to have to face the fact that Asbel is gone over and over again.
Instead, he sets the journal down and curls up in Asbel's bed, which by some miracle still smells like him. Now, for the first time, the darkness that Richard has become so accustomed to feels cold and oppressive and utterly lonely.]
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