Rogue Firefury

LOST

Despite Camnath having said he believed in her, Tiene could not see her way forward anymore.

Enveloped in grief, she drifted aimlessly every day through the rooms of the Spire. She would barely acknowledge any of the servants or anyone who passed through on state business. She wandered like a lost spirit.

Muttering, Tiene often sat in the gardens, her fingers toying with the wooden butterfly gifted her years before from Louvel. Her eyes would drift to the meadows in the desperate hope of seeing Camnath, waving, waiting.

Sometimes, her grief escalated to the point she wailed, mournfully crying out for her beloved husband. Her sorrow led to frustration and anger, where she would start throwing things around in her room. Camnath should not have died. Belaen should have listened to Brett, but instead, he led his squad to a grim and grisly end.

Such thoughts were endless, tormenting her every waking moment. The silence which followed such incidents was deafening; her despair was swallowing her whole.

Several times Lor'themar had ordered her room broken into for fear she had sunk so low as to take her own life. Eventually, he ordered locks removed. For good measure, he also insisted her weapons were kept secure in his study; that door was locked and guarded during his absence.

Called upon to attend important meetings throughout the land, the Regent Lord was often away from Silvermoon. His responsibilities were extensive with the absence of the elves' monarch altering the direction of Lor'themar's role. Tiene, however, was glad of the peace - her brother fussed so when he came home.

She regularly refused to join him for dinner, closing herself off in her room, leaving plates of food barely touched, outside her door. The maids, while sympathetic, shook their heads in frustration; their efforts to keep her strong and healthy seemed futile.

Camnath's family visited frequently, but Tiene would rarely spend time with them. She knew they suffered terribly from losing a son and a brother and therefore reasoned her reluctance to join them was to spare them her misery too.

Not even her friends were able to reach her. Fyn, Louvel, Lexie and Brett would arrive and try to force her out for walks and picnics. She would go occasionally, but she barely spoke and never ate much, only enough to sustain her - which was pitiful. She would accept a glass of wine, but it too remained unfinished, tipped over in the grass as she sat, staring out over the meadows before the never-ending tears flowed again.

Tiene was becoming painfully thin; her pallor was grey, her once lustrous hair, lank and dull.

One person eventually took it upon herself to deliver some home truths. Her actions would either jolt Tiene out of her depressed state or, finally drive the dagger home to end it all. One way or the other, the ghost which Tiene Firefury had become was about to be exorcised.

Lexie approached the Spire, a bag over her shoulder, fully prepared for a showdown with her best friend. Staff, now familiar with seeing the undead woman visiting, nodded a salutation as she strode through the corridors to Tiene's room.