Following a narrow escape from an exploding, asuran lab, you, Braham, and Rox found yourselves in the environs of the Desert Highlands no longer. Instead, you were on an island off the coast of Elona, somewhere near the Sargol Sea. Led by the elementalist charr Boticca, you soon arrived at the village of Atholma, a fishing village comprised entirely of the Olmakhan: charr who had left the legions long ago, rejecting the culture of a militaristic society and choosing to live amongst families rather than warbands.
Rox didn't hide her genuine interest in the Olmakhan, delighted that you three were remaining in town for the next several days. She was fascinated so deeply by the way they valued their connection to nature and others around them. Whenever you took a stroll around town, she was engaged deeply in conversation with one of the local charr. Braham watched on, having little to contribute to the interactions, only coming because Rox asked him to.
And every time you saw her again, she appeared more enlightened than the last.
You couldn't blame her for being so curious, though. She had expressed to you long ago about her fear of becoming a gladium: charr outcasts who had no place amongst the glory of the legions. She had no one left after she lost her warband in the mines, and struggled to find her place back in the world since. But now here was an entire village of people who would be considered gladiums in regular charr society, and they didn't care about any of that. You could only imagine her relief in seeing charr who welcomed her regardless of what caste she fell into, and you were happy for her.
Yet, in spite of all this, you felt a strange, uneasy feeling at the thought of her finding this newfound place of belonging. Your chest tightened at the thought of her experiencing this, and you thankfully caught yourself in realization of what was happening.
How flawed you were, to feel ill at the sight of others finding their own happiness.
You had to leave. Be by yourself. Just the thought of you feeling this way disgusted you. Others couldn't see you like this, how much you were truly a sick and twisted human being underneath the veneer of Tyria's hero and savior. How could you be so hateful against other people who were happier than you were about yourself simply because they didn't want to remain in the darkness like you had been for the last several years—
"Rrrr...?"
"...!"
A gasp left your lips as you regained hold of your senses. You sat underneath the shade of an acacia tree overlooking the village of Atholma, on a spot that wasn't too close to town, but not far enough to be out of reach from your allies.
Beside you, Aurene watched you intently, her presence having hovered just as never-too-near but never-too-far in your continued journey across Elona. Because of your bond as scion and champion, you were keenly aware that she could sense the ever-present turbulence in your soul... Possibly for a lot longer than you would want to admit.
"H... Hey, Aurene."
Both of you shared memories of sitting quietly together in Tarir. Often, you were consumed by grief and regrets, of what were and what could have been, and especially of the ones you had lost. And she, unable to speak or offer any words of consolation, would cuddle up beside you, giving you comfort the only way she knew how. She didn't understand the intricacies of why you felt the way you did, only that she felt it just as deeply, and wished to ease that.
Much like she was trying to do now, as she nudged her draconic head against you for nuzzles.
"H-Hey—" You placed a hand on her snout, trying to gently push her away. "Hold on, what's gotten into you? Uwah!"
One insistent boop was all it took to send you tumbling onto your back on the platform you were both on. When you opened your eyes again, Aurene was hanging over you, her expression full of nothing but playful cheer and blissful ignorance of the fact that she was a juvenile dragon no longer. You almost expected her to pounce over you and knead your stomach like a cat, as she was wont to do in her youth.
And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to be angry. You never really could.
For all the darkness that hung over your soul, the many days you yearned for your lost innocence, how often you thought about how life would have been much simpler if you just remained in a lost soul at Grenth's door... She saw through all of that. She saw only your kindness and good nature through the inner storm that never truly went away. She saw how all you wanted to be was the good person you always believed yourself to be.
Just like Caithe had, Aurene accepted you—scars and all—and neither of them held no reservations about reminding you just how loved you truly were.
That said, you objectively had no reason to be jealous of Rox. If anything, she was probably jealous of you this whole time because of what you already had.
Somewhere you belonged.
Rising from the wood, you reached over to Aurene's awaiting snout, returning the gesture with rubs and nuzzles of your own. She chirped happily, trying to soak as much of your affection as she could.
As the clouds briefly parted above the Chukara Sea, the storm inside you abated, and you were blessed with a moment of temporary sun and calm.
"I've missed you too."
She made returning from the dead worth it.
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I wasn't really intending to write anything at all associated with this. I was satisfied it being just a one-and-done type of situation, but it just felt kind of wrong given I've written something for almost every entry I've made thus far. 😅
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