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"Cause and Effect"
Cause and effect: "You seem convinced that this is the right choice", the man said with a frown on his face. The woman looked up at him. "I'm sorry that I've kept it a secret from you for so long, but I didn't know how to bring it up", she whispered, seeming on the brink of tears. "How long have you been a student of... Necromancy?", he asked, spitting out the word as if the word itself was inhabited by a presence of evil. "Two months", she spoke. "Have you sinned yet? Have you taken an oath in front of the Gods and forsaken what it means to cherish the very lives that you vowed to protect?!", the man thundered. "I haven't taken any such vow, but if you were to just listen I'm sure that you would understand that Necromancy is more than the study of death", she proclaimed, her eyes full of resolve. In that moment he knew that there was no way that he would be able to talk her out of THIS decision. He could feel bile coming up to his throat. He felt sick. When had the woman that he had vowed to love and protect become like this? He also seemed like he was on the brink of tears. “Why would you forsake yourself..?”, and he pulled the woman close to him by her shoulders. “Have you practiced on anything living? Have you desecrated yourself be committing murder?”, he asked. She seemed to flinch. “No. I have only what I have read, and I have yet to put it into practical practice, but that should be sufficient”. He seemed to pause for a moment, seeming to relax a bit. “That is a relief…” “But you know that I will be practicing soon. I don’t have much time…The elements rejected me long ago. You remember, right? You remember when I had to pretend to be accepted by the Gods of healing magick? I don’t even understand how people could believe that. But I finally found something that I have an affinity for, something that I can do, somewhere I belong!” "You belong here, with your people”, he said. “I belong here with you, but I do not belong among the others. The reason that I find my truth in necromancy is so that I might help them in a way that they refuse to help themselves.” He seemed sad. A forlorn look appeared across his face, a look that did not leave him in his old age. “Is there nothing that I can do?", he asked. She shook her head. “ I want you to come with me. I don’t want to leave you, but you know how our people feel about the dark arts…” His face changed for a split second. The light in his eyes left, his features fell into a frown, and he seemed to steel a resolve of his own. He pulled her close to him and kissed her gently. She seemed hesitant at first, but she relaxed in his arms, taking the kiss as an agreement to all that she had asked him to do. The cloak covering her face fell, and Alamatari was stunned to see how beautiful the woman was. Her hair was kissed by fire, her green eyes shone with the affection that she felt for the man before her, before she closed them and gave herself to the kiss. A single tear fell down the man's cheek. He moved his hand to his sheath. She was too enraptured by this last kiss to notice. 'I'm sorry.' The elvish woman fell limp in his arms. She was badly wounded, but still alive. He had never killed anyone before. He must have barely missed one of her vital organs. “I’m sorry… But I cannot let you become a murderer. If I have to forsake the Gods, and our people, even, this whole world than I would. I'm afraid that I won't be able to meet with you in heaven like we promised so long ago." He was too busy monologuing to the dying woman to notice what had happened next. An elvish man was standing in front of him, cloaked in blak. He seemed very young, by elvish standards, he couldn’t be more than 50 years old, and his face was contorted with hatred. “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HER?” He pulled a dagger from his cloak and ran at the elf. He was unable to block on time, and a huge gash was made across his face.The only thing that he was able to do was to take a swipe at the other man, and it seemed like the younger elf was left with a gash across the left side of his face. The first elf fell back, holding his face, looking for something to compress the wound. The young, dark haired elf ran over to the woman. “Why did… you follow me?”, she asked weakly, extending her arm up. It was holding a handkerchief for his face. “I was worried… I… I wish that I could save you…”, he knelt down beside her and embraced her shaking body as the life started to leave it.
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