"No, Crim!" Askier screamed, the Roe with the flaying knife in his hand. Askier's tail, the pain, the peeling flesh. "Please no, stop! I'm begging you! No!"
Askier jerked up, cold sweat running down his face, his eyes flung open wide, the flicker from a nearly spent candle reflecting in the golden orbs. Askier grabbed the sheets around him, clung to them, and wrapped them around him as he gazed around in terror.
There was no Crim, no ship, no flaying knife. Only a simple inn room with a bed, a desk, and a candle. The Garlean pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them with his one arm and he let out a pained groan.
It hadn't been a nightmare, it had been a memory. It had actually happened, and in the depths of sleep the memory had forced itself upon Askier, made him remember...
Askier swung his tail around and placed it in his lap. The tail was hairless currently and covered in pale, fresh skin. Skin Kanaria had replaced through long, drawn out healing. She had regrown so much skin, re-attached Askier's pulled teeth, mended bones. And yet Askier's entire body still hurt, afraid to take a deep breath least this all be a dream and he be back on the boat with Crim.
"Crim..." Askier moaned. The Roe was gone, forever, physically. But the foul monster was trapped inside Askier's head, trapped on Askier's body with every tattoo the Roe had inked into his flesh, with the metal in Askier's tongue, with every scar upon his body. The Roe would haunt Askier for the rest of his life.
The Garlean shuddered and felt his breaths quicken and tried to calm himself. He felt more flashbacks coming.
"No, no, no." Askier sobbed, trying to get his mind off the coming tsunami of tortured memories. Askier tried to think about those whom loved him. His sister, Osric, Kahn'a, Kanaria, Hound, Drumstick, Lei. Think about his work that Kahn'a was going to give him, about how he was safe, how those whom loved him had come for him.
It didn't work. The wave of terror slammed into Askier and he started screaming and sobbing as he hugged himself. The Garlean screamed for a long time, and the innkeeper who came to his door to see what the fuss was about, did not enter and disturb the miqo'te. No one with a heart could hear that amount of anguish and not feel pity for the broken Garlean.
Askier jerked up, cold sweat running down his face, his eyes flung open wide, the flicker from a nearly spent candle reflecting in the golden orbs. Askier grabbed the sheets around him, clung to them, and wrapped them around him as he gazed around in terror.
There was no Crim, no ship, no flaying knife. Only a simple inn room with a bed, a desk, and a candle. The Garlean pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them with his one arm and he let out a pained groan.
It hadn't been a nightmare, it had been a memory. It had actually happened, and in the depths of sleep the memory had forced itself upon Askier, made him remember...
Askier swung his tail around and placed it in his lap. The tail was hairless currently and covered in pale, fresh skin. Skin Kanaria had replaced through long, drawn out healing. She had regrown so much skin, re-attached Askier's pulled teeth, mended bones. And yet Askier's entire body still hurt, afraid to take a deep breath least this all be a dream and he be back on the boat with Crim.
"Crim..." Askier moaned. The Roe was gone, forever, physically. But the foul monster was trapped inside Askier's head, trapped on Askier's body with every tattoo the Roe had inked into his flesh, with the metal in Askier's tongue, with every scar upon his body. The Roe would haunt Askier for the rest of his life.
The Garlean shuddered and felt his breaths quicken and tried to calm himself. He felt more flashbacks coming.
"No, no, no." Askier sobbed, trying to get his mind off the coming tsunami of tortured memories. Askier tried to think about those whom loved him. His sister, Osric, Kahn'a, Kanaria, Hound, Drumstick, Lei. Think about his work that Kahn'a was going to give him, about how he was safe, how those whom loved him had come for him.
It didn't work. The wave of terror slammed into Askier and he started screaming and sobbing as he hugged himself. The Garlean screamed for a long time, and the innkeeper who came to his door to see what the fuss was about, did not enter and disturb the miqo'te. No one with a heart could hear that amount of anguish and not feel pity for the broken Garlean.
