The steady shink of steel against stone created a steady rhythm inside the beaten down tavern room, the bright silver blade humming from each stroke of the sharpening stone down it's length. Outside, the rain beat down in heavy sheets, turning the streets to mud and puddles.
Allion watched the rainfall with distant eyes, his mind wandering as his body moved through the patterns of sharpening the blade in hand, the intricate carvings in the blade, filled with tiny white ore, reflecting the candlelight.
Despite himself, he fiund his mind drifting to the young girl, Elenoir, and her brother. There was an aura around the girl, a familiarity. Another man might have thought of reincarnation, but Allion was no fool. Despite how alike to Cillian young Elenoir might feel, despite the flutter in his heart every time he thought of the young woman's face, her hauntingly beautiful voice, there was no point dwelling upon it.
Cillian was gone, stolen away from him by the cold hands of Fate, and there was no other. The void in his heart was an eternal one, alike to the life he had been reduced to, punished by. It was his due justice for his actions, all those years ago. But that didn't make the emptiness any easier to bear.
The candle at his side blew out in a rush, the gust of wind blown through the window, cracked ajar to allow the scent of the rain inside, extinguishing it in one fell swoop. He sighed, stared at the smoking wick for a moment before sheathing the blade and tossing the sharpening stone onto the small desk in the corner.
Despite himself, he found the melody Elenoir had sung drifting into his mind, humming the tune softly as he moved to close the window. In the old days, when the words had been not a foreign language, but common tongue, at least to his people, the song had been beauriful tenfold, the words touching on his heart every time Cillian sung it, her voice soft and beautiful.
Sighing softly again, breaking off mid-verse, he sat on the edge of the window sill and stared into the dark night beyond.
"I still miss you, carissime, I fear I always shall. Such is my cursed existence."