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Submitted By: Duhwan
All Characters Involved: Duhwan, Roland

Submitted Log

Duhwan grins, his teeth still blacker than ever. It was more noticeable now, though, the guns around each black tooth also turning a blue and a bit black. His life was not long. Even if his organs did not die to the rotting, his brain would soon become victim if not already. "Come, then. We've a long walk, and I've grown rather tired." He speaks softly, adjusting his arm again. He frowns at it, opening and closing his hand, as though making sure it worked. [Duhwan]

Roland nods, walking forward to make sure he can walk alongside his friend. Though he tries to hide it, the subtle intent is that, should he become dizzy or trip, the younger man can catch him. "I enjoy these outings with you. I've rather grown to like you, you know that?" He speaks with a smile on his lips.

"I've grown to find something in you as well. Perhaps the son I never have. But don't you get all mushy on me. I don't need..." He coughs violently this time, and frowns. He takes a hold of the power again, and begins to pull water from the earth, and gingerly bends down, going so far as to use Roland as a way to keep steady. A sign of the weakness growing in the man, as he rarely accepts help of any sort. He leans forward and begins to drink from the water. [Duhwan]

Roland supports the man easily, astonished at the lack of weight. Almost like a child. He fills his canteen in the small pool of water, in case the man should need more of it after he moves on. "I wish there was some way to help. But...You're beyond Healing even if I took you to Tar Valon, aren't you?" he asks sadly.

Nodding slightly, he makes his way back to his feet. "I believe that to be so. Besides, if it were not, there would be no way for me to get there in time." He chuckles. He feels weak. Dizzy. He makes his way to his feet, and breathes deeply, before taking a few more steps. His hand moves to massage his temples, only to stumble again. He coughs. "Hmm..." He breathes deeply, the raspy sounds flowing through his throat. [Duhwan]

Roland wraps an arm around the elder man, holding him up. "Come on, now. We'll be back in Cairhien in a couple of hours, Duhwan, and then you can rest and have a nice cup of tea." he says, ignoring his preference to be called by a false name. "It's not that far." But his words ring hollow, as though he knows it's false.

"Not too far..." He speaks out, smiling at the boy shaking his head, "You really are an optimist. Tea would be nice though." The pressure against his body should have been enough to hurt, but it felt numb. Everything was starting to feel numb, and his vision kept flickering. He took hold of the one thing he knew he'd feel. Saidin. The Ice and Fire sensation fills him. Pure joy, and pure filth, and still, it made him feel something more. His body grew weaker, and he smiles faintly, trying to walk on his own. "Ah, Roland...." Blue fills his vision as he glances at the sky, blue fading to white... to a dull grey, then black. "The sky really... is... beautiful... to.. day..." He drops to his knees, the power still flowing through him. His body thrashes, though his mind is lost to it. All he can think about is that flow moving through him at this point. Eventually his body grows still, the raspy breath filling the air, and despite the pain his body must be racking, he holds a small smile. [Duhwan]

Roland swears vehemently as the thrashing begins. "Damn it, Duhwan. Blood and bloody ashes, you can't die yet. Come on, you just have to make it back to Cairhien." He speaks, but he knows his words aren't heard. Instead, he is just desperate, and panic sets in. He fills himself with saidin, not knowing what it will do, just thinking it necessary. "Come on. With all my strength, I have to have a way to help...But how?"

Even the power begins to slip from him, and the last thing he tastes is the taste of the rot on his breath, the air in his lungs becoming expelled. A final cough, and he finds oxygen no longer flowing through him. Tears touch his eyes, eyes wide open staring at a sky he can no longer see. He body then brings in a sudden flow of different sensations. Pleasure. Pain. Fear. Joy. Conflicting, changing, flowing, moving he becomes lost, consumed. He hears a voice. A voice far away. Who was that? He can't remember. He can't remember anything at this point, but that voice brought a reassurance to him. His hand raises. He thinks he raises his hand, stretching towards that unseen unheard voice, and he smiles. "Be at ease..." He says, though it comes out thin, no air to support the words, and with that, he feels the power slip away. Everything slips away, and his soul is reabsorbed into the pattern. [Duhwan]

Weaving almost on instinct, he lifts the body. His mind is far away, thinking about what just happened. His friend died. He had very few friends in this world, and what was possibly his best friend died. Here. Now. Of the same thing that may eventually kill him. "Blood and bloody ashes..." he says, his voice small. Walking in silence, he proceeds to the nearest cliff, his eyes glazing over. He is glad he is alone, it comes as a relief; solitude being preferred right now. Laying the body on the edge of the cliff, he releases the flows of air that hold it. The corpse is dangerously close to the edge: Any further and it would slight of the edge. Grimly, he begins to weave his strongest flow of fire, supported with air. A ball of flame hits the body, and instantly bursts into flame, obscuring the body from view for a moment. Without waiting to see the results, he weaves another fireball, and another, and another. After several minutes, all that remains is a pile of ash and a red-hot sword, almost warped from the heat. He uses a small flow of air to scatter the ashes over the cliff, muttering as he does so, "Goodbye, my friend. And thank you. For everything that you did for me. You'll be remembered." He walks forward to the edge, and leans over to get the sword. "I suppose...It ought not be left here." he says in a voice sounding almost strangled. Ignoring the searing pain in his hand from the heat, he turns and walks away from the cliff, deciding that he would never see that cliff again if he had a choice. [Roland]