Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140205203111/@comment-3293219-20140208005403

Lott had escorted Nepht back to the chapel. They had spent the night together as she, slowly, shuffled along, hugging herself to contain the feelings in her gut. She wasn't unlike Corelas in the way she moved, something that neither of them had noticed.

They ended their stroll by walking through the scenic gardens, behind the chapel. It was a beautiful area that the Count fought tooth and nail over to preserve but many would argue that there's nothing particularly grand about it on paper, just two bridges that ran over the stream at the center of town but if one was to see it for themselves, they would be at least moved by its beauty.

They stopped at the center island; Nepht walked over to the stream and glanced into the water, seeing a young, dunmer girl staring back. She looked sad, gloomy, trapped under the ice with no form of reality to claw back through, no method of escape. Lott was hesitant to go over to her, eventually, he build up the nerve to go over to join her. He stood next to her and smiled but she didn't notice him or maybe she was just tired of keeping up this pretence of happiness.

Lott sighed and began to talk to her, his fears were disregarded. "I wanted to ask you something, though you don’t have to answer, I just wanted to know..."

Nepht turned to him, wondering what it could be as he began to ask his question.

"Back at the fort, when you were in that closet? W-what happened?" Lott was truly curious; he'd never seen such fear in a normal person before. He had seen such fear before at the strangest of things but he couldn't place where he had seen it.

Nepht sighed, she really didn't want to answer this... she'd never told anyone.

After returning to Cheydinhal, Nepht was quiet, to say the least and after nearly being killed in the chapel she was muted. Veneficus provided counselling for several weeks, until she came out of her shell. Their sessions weren't ever feeling oriented, not once in five years did she ever talk about Edgar, that god forsaken pit or the chapel. She used Veneficus' sessions to distract herself and any attempt to discuss the breton, brought her to tears. In fact, the only thing that she was able to talk about, to a great extent, was Daniel Howe. Her childhood hero and idol, who came into her life and showed her a new way of living, one that she had never thought of before.

Dragons, ruins, scary witches, scurvy pirates...

She could go on and on, listing ever adventure she lived, under the sheets of her bed as a child. The many scribblings that she did in her notebook of her and Daniel saving the orphans from an evil witch, who disguised herself as a teacher, securing their places as legends of Nirn.

She sighed heavily, coming back to Lott's question.

"I... i-it's..." She was fighting a flood of emotion, it did everything it could to her mind to derail her and keep it inside and she had to push through. "I... Something happened to me, when I was a kid. To me, my mum, aunt Tabith and my grandad..."

She hung her head, unable to say anymore as Edgar's influence took hold of her. She wanted to talk to him about it, she did but she just couldn't. She, slowly, began to sob to herself as Lott pulled her in and let her cry into his chest.

He gently hushed her to calm her down as they stood at the center of the island, the moonlight fixed on them both.

