((This is going to be a major hypothetical right now, so this is so incredibly not canon!))
No… No, not her. Not her, too!
Natharai stood before the redhead, her usual warm countenance cold, her gaze disgusted, in abject disbelief. After months of careful consideration, Vandrysse, the woman who knew him best, better than himself, had finally passed judgment upon him and found him wanting.
“You are a monster.” Those four words continued to ring inside his head, dulling his senses and muddling his judgment on how to respond. All he could do was slowly, if not deliriously, shake his head as he backed away from her. No words came, nothing aside from doing what he has always excelled at in his many years: Running away.
He did not know how much time had passed, or how exactly he got home, but judging from the disarray his usually composed appearance was in it was obviously by foot. Oddly, he was still in his human form…
Aren and Japhet were out to market for the afternoon and Cadence was out for a ride on Keystone. The house was quiet, all save for his frantic movements and Haifeng’s concerned warbling from behind the coatrack he cowered behind.
For twenty-five years, Natharai has wrestled with his inner demons, of the strangeness of his genesis, and the profound guilt from countless misdeeds and poor decisions. Yet the warlock managed to push through it all with cloaking himself in lies and fabricated stories almost desperately, clinging to the life that was wrongly given to him.
Though four simple words managed to undo more than two decades worth of delusion and the stillness that Natharai felt within mind was keen. He was done… All of this time searching. All of this time clinging to a life that should not be… And for what? Nobody understood him. Not even Arenvald, not even himself.
With a calm sweep of his hand, Natharai pulled out the seat before his desk and moved to pen a letter. He had all of his affairs already in order – a small mercy of having an almost neurotic need to make sure he was prepared for the absolute worst case scenario. The thought of leaving those he has grown to love over the years behind brought tears to his eyes, but he was so tired… Even with the medicine Ellister and Vandrysse were testing on him, he probably did not have very long left. Why prolong the inevitable any more than he has?
Once an ink-laden quill was brought to paper, Natharai began to pen his final letter to his husband – errant tear drops blurring some of the words. Once it was finished, Natharai would have been long gone before Arenvald and the rest returned. He would never be seen again, his fate ultimately confirmed in his letter but the whereabouts of his passing undetermined.
Many years ago, one dear to Natharai called his fierce drive to live “a brave thing”. Though in the end, all he would become is yet another coward in his bloodline’s terrible legacy.