Undone, unwound, and Fever feels it within every inch of her body. Like this, she cannot be dislodged, and to be so rooted and sunk into the earth means that when something gives, it will not be her. Once, his roots sunk deeper than hers. Once, this was only his flesh, his blood. But she can make it all her own, if only he is torn out of her. Nothing can or will be spared, for the utter hatred he would have had her wield on the world is turned in his direction. The spark of life he gave chased from every connection, every piece of her, to finally pry his hand off her heart. Where her spirit lies, where the Figment Blade pierces to, where something explodes, Fever plunges in, and knows what to do.
It takes a lifetime. It takes heartbeats. It is clawing herself to shore, hands outstretched, and shedding a cocoon, her own skin, a corpse. Being struck by lightning, standing in the snow. Rifling through different consciousnesses, before regaining one's own. Pulling away and plunging into the unknown, many shapes and ever mutable chaos, erasing a purpose and opening up the world's gates instead. It is severing a blood line, and joining it to another, binding fate anew. It is casting Bhaal away, so that new things might grow, and grow strong. And then there is no more room for him, and he is out, gone. Unbound and swept away, spark extinguished, not even the last howls left in the air.
He's gone. He's finally gone.
The surge of energy that was fueling her, the magic that pushed forth and filled her - it retreats, dies down once it knows. Movement returns to her fingers, and Fever feels a familiar ache behind her ribs. Of course it would be there, after everything, if she can but ask them-
Except it doesn't stop there. It keeps growing, into her throat, into her head, until it has no choice but to finally, finally find an exit. Fever's body shakes, and a strangled sound rips itself out of her throat before any words might, before the Blade drops from her grasp as she falls to tears. Everything collapses at once, in the absence of the usual stress and pain, and she feels so much. The fear, the sorrow, anger, regret, anguish. All that was lost, for all the times she couldn't before. But there is also relief, down to bedrock. If not happiness, then a chance at it, a chance to do better, be better, have a future.
She sobs, feeling fragile, exhausted, new and overwhelmed by the world, finally allowed to rest after a long, long fight. Finally, her hands are safe.
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It takes a lifetime. It takes heartbeats. It is clawing herself to shore, hands outstretched, and shedding a cocoon, her own skin, a corpse. Being struck by lightning, standing in the snow. Rifling through different consciousnesses, before regaining one's own. Pulling away and plunging into the unknown, many shapes and ever mutable chaos, erasing a purpose and opening up the world's gates instead. It is severing a blood line, and joining it to another, binding fate anew. It is casting Bhaal away, so that new things might grow, and grow strong. And then there is no more room for him, and he is out, gone. Unbound and swept away, spark extinguished, not even the last howls left in the air.
He's gone. He's finally gone.
The surge of energy that was fueling her, the magic that pushed forth and filled her - it retreats, dies down once it knows. Movement returns to her fingers, and Fever feels a familiar ache behind her ribs. Of course it would be there, after everything, if she can but ask them-
Except it doesn't stop there. It keeps growing, into her throat, into her head, until it has no choice but to finally, finally find an exit. Fever's body shakes, and a strangled sound rips itself out of her throat before any words might, before the Blade drops from her grasp as she falls to tears. Everything collapses at once, in the absence of the usual stress and pain, and she feels so much. The fear, the sorrow, anger, regret, anguish. All that was lost, for all the times she couldn't before. But there is also relief, down to bedrock. If not happiness, then a chance at it, a chance to do better, be better, have a future.
She sobs, feeling fragile, exhausted, new and overwhelmed by the world, finally allowed to rest after a long, long fight. Finally, her hands are safe.