Heroist
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-I'm home! -Adilika, with a noticeably emptier bottle of murky liquor in one hand, kicked the entrance door to her small room, causing it to creak slightly and almost come off its hinges.
-Shhh. -the Thiliian hissed to herself, cautiously looking around. -Everything is okay! Everything is in its place! No need to, you know, accuse me of anything!
Collapsing into the empty room, the rogue stumbled over an old cabinet, let out a piercing scream, and swore loudly. Then, sighing with relief, she plopped down on the bed, raising clouds of dirty dust, sneezed loudly, took another swig of alcohol, tossed the bottle aside, laughed, and stared at the ceiling, which was covered in cobwebs.
-Roma for me! Yo-ho-ho! -coughing, the Thiliian banged her fist on the tilting table, although, over time, they had stopped paying attention to this call in the tavern. Her dirty hair was tangled at shoulder level, her eyes were dull and had lost their usual playful sparkle, her cheeks were sunken, her face was noticeably pale, and the first wrinkles were beginning to appear. It seemed that the assassin had aged several years in the past few weeks.
-What's the news, captain? -Adilika asked, staring questioningly at the window, which was covered with tattered pieces of dark fabric, as she somehow managed to put her feet on the bed. Supporting her head with her hands with difficulty, the Thiliian lost touch with reality for a few minutes. Then, suddenly jolting awake, the rogue came to her senses, a flash of pain crossed her face, she turned over to the other side, and, burying her face in the crumpled blankets, began to tear at her hair.
-You're crying again! Stop it, do you hear? I'm fed up! Be quiet! Shut up!
This continued for some time before moments of absolute emptiness and inner exhaustion replaced the fits. During these times, the Thiliian simply lay there, having neither the strength nor the desire to get up. What was ahead? What was in the past? What was happening now? Only emptiness, almost no thoughts, emotions, or feelings swirled in her head.
"I'm sorry, Lady Ayri. And you too, Lady Ea," Adilika thought during rare moments of clarity. "I lost your gift. I lost my treasure. And I lost you too. And I couldn't save you. And I lost you too. I lost everything. What should I do now? There's nothing left. Only darkness. Yes, ha. Nothing left. And yet, I don't want to die either. Why? Because nothing is left? Oh, well, what difference does it make."
-Shhh. -the Thiliian hissed to herself, cautiously looking around. -Everything is okay! Everything is in its place! No need to, you know, accuse me of anything!
Collapsing into the empty room, the rogue stumbled over an old cabinet, let out a piercing scream, and swore loudly. Then, sighing with relief, she plopped down on the bed, raising clouds of dirty dust, sneezed loudly, took another swig of alcohol, tossed the bottle aside, laughed, and stared at the ceiling, which was covered in cobwebs.
-Roma for me! Yo-ho-ho! -coughing, the Thiliian banged her fist on the tilting table, although, over time, they had stopped paying attention to this call in the tavern. Her dirty hair was tangled at shoulder level, her eyes were dull and had lost their usual playful sparkle, her cheeks were sunken, her face was noticeably pale, and the first wrinkles were beginning to appear. It seemed that the assassin had aged several years in the past few weeks.
-What's the news, captain? -Adilika asked, staring questioningly at the window, which was covered with tattered pieces of dark fabric, as she somehow managed to put her feet on the bed. Supporting her head with her hands with difficulty, the Thiliian lost touch with reality for a few minutes. Then, suddenly jolting awake, the rogue came to her senses, a flash of pain crossed her face, she turned over to the other side, and, burying her face in the crumpled blankets, began to tear at her hair.
-You're crying again! Stop it, do you hear? I'm fed up! Be quiet! Shut up!
This continued for some time before moments of absolute emptiness and inner exhaustion replaced the fits. During these times, the Thiliian simply lay there, having neither the strength nor the desire to get up. What was ahead? What was in the past? What was happening now? Only emptiness, almost no thoughts, emotions, or feelings swirled in her head.
"I'm sorry, Lady Ayri. And you too, Lady Ea," Adilika thought during rare moments of clarity. "I lost your gift. I lost my treasure. And I lost you too. And I couldn't save you. And I lost you too. I lost everything. What should I do now? There's nothing left. Only darkness. Yes, ha. Nothing left. And yet, I don't want to die either. Why? Because nothing is left? Oh, well, what difference does it make."
Whatever