User blog:CorinTraven/Letters of Exie Elignt

This are memors to Corus Bolton.

Death bed.

 * In a thin, shaky scrawl, from a hand unused to holding something as delicate as a quill, a note was written, perhaps the last words of Lady Exie Elignt. The black ink bled, and dripped in some parts of the paper, smudged with age, a few drops of dark blood left, and it smelled like the inside of a tomb. The paper was folded into thirds neatly, and seemingly with care, before it had been placed upon the chest of a dying woman. At the top, it began with.* Dear Sir Corus Bolton, It saddens me to think that out of my order, I address you on my death bed. Yes, I am dying. I know not how, or why, but I’ve realized, and come to terms with my death. By the time you receive this, I’ve long passed, hopefully committed back to the soil, and laid peacefully to rest. I have died before, haven’t I? Is the shudder within my chest from my breathing, or from the maggots that burrow in. You wouldn’t realize the pain, it’s like some unseen hand rips at my very core, tearing and pulling at my flesh. I was able to peel my armor away from my skin, or whatever’s left of it. There’s spots, everywhere, like dark bruises, where the blood has settled. My heart isn’t pumping, I checked, and I’ve managed to hold my breath for hours without any discomfort. Why? What kind of twisted half-life is this? For now, my mind is still intact, I don’t know for how long though, each day, memories fade, my eyesight weakens, my movements falter. I doubt I could carry a blade. What use would that be anyway? I wish to end my life now, but I cannot stand, and I had the misfortune of placing my sword across the room. I might crawl there. I doubt it though, when I am truly dead, I do not want to be on my stomach, like some fool. Ha! How honor still troubles me, it won’t matter in a couple days, this half-living corpse my mind now resides it will die, and with it, me. I never thought it’d be like this-..that I’d die alone, within a dark house, without my only companions, my brothers in the Knights. I’ve done it to myself though, after I lost my husband, I lost everything. I’ve always been involved with my work-..but after that, it immersed me. I pushed my son away, perhaps that’s why I haven’t seen him in three years. He’s twenty-six years old now, I forced him away when he was just seventeen. He didn’t want to be a Knight, I shouldn’t have tried to make him. Then, I wouldn’t die a lonely widow. How pathetic, to cry over something so trivial of just being alone. I’ve been alone for years, it’s never bothered me. But it shakes me to my very core to think-…I’m alone, no one will no I’m dead, you might never receive this letter! What will happen to Exie Elignt? Will her name die with her, to never be remembered, no grandchild will recall their grandmothers name, no one to recall that she even existed? That’s what frightens me, and really, that’s why I write this to you. I do not trust the Baron, nor the Baroness, I hold only my allegiance to them, not my friendship. I hope I could call you the closest thing to a friend I have. Do not forget me Corus, please, don’t let my memory die with a small pathetic gasp. That’s all I ask, hopefully death will treat me well, I still regret choices I made, but there’s no time anymore to fix those now. Tell the order, I’ve died, because I surely will, I can feel it, death tugging at me, toying with my mind, beginning to shut me down.  I don’t wish to die, but I have no choice, and I’m going to die, plan and simple. I wonder how I died before, I don’t recall anything deadly that could of happened. Curse the Baron, and his dark magics, I know what he is. A Mahjarret. I never thought myself to become such a fiend as a zombie, my mind living in my vacant corpse. Why did no one tell me so I could slay myself before It came to this?  Perhaps I will join Frankie. He always hated that name, I really shouldn’t refer to him as that, but I hope I do get to see him again, if there is such a life after death. Maybe I’ve done enough to see him, he was always a better soul then me though. All I’ve ever done is brought death, never anything constructive to life, after thinking it over, it’s true, I will probably rot, undeserving of such a reward.  I’ve read over what I’ve written, it’s awfully grave, I don’t wish my last words to be so dark, my life has been dark enough. My life was complete I suppose, I’d accomplished my goals, and now, perhaps it is a fitting end, though untimely, It may be better then slowly dying as an old, senile woman. I’ve managed to find my dagger now, before I end it, I wish to rid myself of that dreaded mark, then, the pain shall go away, and I might fuse my mind with my dead body, at peace. Don’t forget me. Exie Elignt.