So much for that show. I’ll be going now.
Colleen was the first character I rolled in GW2, right after I bought the game at launch. She’s been through two makeovers, a name change, and five other alts dinging 80 before she hit max level last night.
So to celebrate, I put her back in the light blue Commander’s Armor I started her with and rolled around Dry Top.
Its true: Warriors are OP. Holy hell.
NEW LIVING STORY oh wait new hairstyles
Dry Top can wait. I have fancy and cute to make.
You’re always so quick to forgive.
“I forgive others so that I can forgive myself for doing what I must.”
Have you ever forgiven yourself for your mistakes?
There was nothing but the quiet whisper of the wind in this corner of Caledon. The petals of the giant flower he and his hound sat upon insulating them from the sounds of nature beyond. Even so, the air seemed heavy. Or rather it felt heavy. The weight of a Dream, a Nightmare, a short horribly brutal life, weeks of non-stop work, and a looming threat right beneath his feet all dropping upon his tiny shoulders. And his mistakes. His errors. His failures. He was rather surprised he was not yet in the same sling as Keiranon.
“I have not.”
His gloves also lay beside him. Fingers gently traced along intricate scars carved along his forearm.
“All life is important. Every single life is important. We are all brothers and sisters. It is what my Dream showed me, all those lives I was a part of. And when I- when it is neccessary for me to take a life-“
Words cracked in his throat.
“When I cannot stop someone from coming to harm. When those I put my trust in come to harm and I could not have done any better for them. When I cannot stop those I care about coming to harm- or worse-“
Eyes averted away from the grassy mound. His palm swept up his arm and grabbed hold to bicep, squeezing and clutching.
“When I see hope fading, when I see it ending and I am helpless!”
Mistakes are like wounds. Wounds are like lessons. Lessons often hurt.
“They hurt, Oaken. They hurt more than few could ever know. My Hunt demands so much of me and it just keeps hurting again and again and again and I. Can. Not. Stop. It! How? How do I learn when those lessons mean someone becomes hurt? How do I forgive myself? How do I forgive myself for failing those I love!”
A gentle breeze crossed the flower’s petal. Faintly wilted purple leaves fluttered and lofted themsleves ever so slightly above his shoulder and head.
You’re the one that never gives up. That’s why those wounds will heal; That’s why you’ll always be loved.
“I never gave up? I-“
You are a light to all of us.
You know I’ve always looked up to you.
Brother Skoryy, you have always been my inspiration.
Forehead resting upon forehead, a shared tender moment between brother and sister.
A hug. Are you happy?
Gaile lifted his head and rested it atop of the sapling’s thigh, still ever so young eyes looking up to him. Memories of another hound licking at fresh wounds.
A shoulderbump. A masked smile.
I love you, Skoryy, and I always will.
His tear-stained face buried itself in his free hand. The other remained in a death grip on his arm. His scars. “… I am sorry, Valiant Skoryy. I am so sorry. Everything has gone wrong and I do not know what-“
A moment of silence. “No. No, I do know what to do. I have always known. I am the one that never gives up.”
A pause. “And I gave up.”
Another. “I should fix that.”
Slowly, perhaps almost reluctantly, his hand slipped away from the arm. The other fell away from his hand, a deft touch finding his companion’s ferns and ever so delicately ran itself through them.
“This. This will not be easy, Gaile. I will need help. More help than in merely defeating a dragon. But I cannot give up. Not when I- Not when we are all needed. Not when I cannot truly fail.”
“Not when I am loved. And I love in kind.”
The hound still watched him. “… Yes, even you, my stalwart yet growly companion.” There was one last pat, a heavy sigh escaping a near exhausted body. The weight was still on his shoulders, but somehow, now, it felt lighter. It was being shared, wasn’t it. It was being shared all along. He rather should share more of it. “Come along, Gaile, it is time for us to return. Vilathara needs us. Our family, really. And the skritt. Well, right, all of Tyria. Everyone.”
“If we are to save our home, it needs all of us, together. And it is about time this valiant did his part in making that happen.”