Private Tales The Notes You Left Me By the Door

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Kaira Yehven

the Daughter of Valenntenia
The Guardians of The Rune
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Character Biography
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Grief was nothing new for Kaira.

Despair was something fleeting, something to be felt and then let it seep away into nothingness. It made a person cold, detached, and unwanted.

Why not me? For Death placed each hand at the shoulders of her mother and father when she was only a young girl. What did I do wrong? For first flutters of affections turned sour with jealousy in the wake of her promotion. Why did you leave me here? For she had been her happiest and yet that felt like a sacrifice and a height to fall from.

Kaira had not seen darkness in four months.

She could not bear to feel it's seductive allure, to hear the voices unclaimed call to her and pull her into that descent of madness. The dark was cold and left her blind, and the Ancients pulled her into prayer only in the light. Her grandfather had ensured that her bed chambers were always lit with an enchanted lamp gifted from a fae girl that heard the Faith Guardian's woes. And that the hallway too was always lit so that no shadow dared to haunt. The new Guardian of Darkness, although not yet introduced to Kaira, did a kind service by ridding her environments of shadows for they turned Faith to cower.

The only way she knew what time of day it was when her meals came. Now living in the newly restored Yehven home in Old Town, she had a small staff that tended to her needs, and a cook that insisted Kaira eat a meal to keep healthy. She had never been taken cared so well with her meals thrice daily, often paired with a drink that was never the same. She never questioned what she ate, for her interest in the plating was tolerant at best. Her attentions lied elsewhere, to read or try her hand at painting and sketching.

At least she had a maid for that. A warm bath was drawn for her each night and Kaira would rub away with soap at the colours sticking to her arms and hands while the maid went about tidying the room and prepare the Guardian for sleep. At least the staff kept her on a schedule.

The Somners had several meetings about her state of mind since her reclusion, and only a select few of them had sided with the Absalon and other Guardians that Kaira still had her wits to serve as Guardian. Those that followed the Faith often prayed at her doorstep, but their prayers reaching her ears through the windows above only wrenched her heart into lonliness.

Why have Faith in me when those that are important to me no longer hold it?

Please... turn your prayers to someone more deserving...

But Kaira would not relinquish her role as Guardian. The Ancients took on the faces of her departed loved ones, the faces of past Guardians and Protectors. Without them, Kaira was afraid of the pit of guilt and ache she would slip into without their hands holding her up and pulling her to the light.

And that was why Kaira was afraid to sleep at night. To close her eyes was voluntary darkness. Some nights she welcomed it when she wished to feel something disturb her monotony and twist the knife between her ribcage, to remain present and remind herself she was capable of withstanding this tendril of grief.

Just... one more day. One more and perhaps I will have the strength to... revive.
 
EARLY AUTUMN


She wanted to go outside today.

Maids helped her bathe and get her presentable, had done their best to ensure her skin looked healthier than it was. She had been dressed, a small bag to house her coin purse that hung from her wrist, but as soon as her hand curled around the brass door knob, Kaira froze.

She couldn't do it. Not even after sitting down with tea, or having a small thing to bite, Kaira could not bring herself to make the effort and go outside.




"Are the others still giving you grief?" She asked one night. Her grandfather sat before her, cutting into his roast beef as he attended his bi-weekly dinners with Kaira. Arran Yehven did not look up, even as he chewed on the cut he had pierce with his fork. Kaira did not realise she held her breath for his answer, her anxiety not at all concealed like she would use to do to keep anyone from worrying about her.

"The Somners have always had their doubts, but the Absalon has seen you himself and has ruled you still fit to keep your position." But his tone was different, not at all what Kaira knew was his usual tone.

She bit her lip, as if to keep her from speaking again but it was weighing on her. "They bother you."

Arran sighed, his shoulders moving with the sound and finally he looked up to see her. He attempted a small smile, but it looked entirely too sad to last long on his facade. "I feel useless to help you... I don't know how to help you... but I am learning to be patient. Understanding..."

That was what Kaira had written to him about the first few weeks of her isolation.

"Greer said you tried to go out a few times this week... but you couldn't do it. Where is it you wish to go?" He asked, changing the subject to something else he hoped he could perhaps be of more help with.

"The Gallery." Her lips skewed, pursed, and parted with a sigh. "But then I remember all the people out there. During the day, every one is out and about and they will definitely recognise me... whisper about me..." For she knew they did so even not in sight. She was the Daughter of Valenntenia, long before her role as Guardian had been secured. A darling, a prize, and from a respected and old name deeply entrenched with the history of the Vanguard.

Daytime meant she would have to face everyone else.

Arran knew this too, and her new aversion to the hours of night.

"Start small. You have the rooftop garden and the courtyard, all of which none can see you." Not unless she peered over the walls would anyone know she was outside. Arran smiled, wider now in response to Kaira's spine straightening as the suggestion seemed to pique her interest. "That way, you still enjoy the moments of the day time, and slowly work towards facing the Old Town again."

He was right, and Kaira picked up her cutlery once again and cut herself a piece of beef. Chewing on it, it gave her time to think of the words she wanted to say. "And I would be close to home." That as a thought in of itself was enough to put her at ease. Her shoulders had been tensed the entire time, and only now did they loosen with relief.

Small steps, she could try and manage that.