A great many things have happened since the group's attack on the Kest hive. A maddened party, the deaths of comrades, the trip to the next destination, but above all of them, one stood out to the dark elf. Cythlla's defection. He cared not for her reasons, nor did he care if anyone hated her. He didn't care to hate her for doing what she wished. In all honesty, Kaathe had expected himself to care less about it.

But he didn't. He had grown weak. He allowed himself to grow close to her. To talk to her, help her, eat and drink with her...fall in love with her. He hadn't felt the need to care about anything but survival since he was a child, and the girl, for all her strangeness, had managed to capture his heart.

So, in reality, he was the one most devastated by what happened. Though he hid it, a good look into his eyes showed his depression. Kaathe was alone now. Cythlla was not there. Not even her familiar was there to cast him an evil eye. No, it was just as it was before. Kaathe was alone. 

Kaathe chuckled softly. In his laugh, one could hear an echo of sadness and despair. However, there was a hint of acceptance there as well. He paused a moment, and then spoke.

"[color=0054a6]All things are fated to end. I was such a fool, thinking that such a thing mattered.[/color]"

Kaathe leaned against a wall, and just let himself breathe. He watched. He watched the time pass, and the people traverse the hall. He watched the light brighten and dim, and the breeze push what it could. It was his way of recovering. Thinking of what was and what could have been was foolish. Anything that was done is in the Past now, and the future for anything was simply to fall and be forgotten.

He would never admit this, even to himself, but he'd dream of the day he and Cythlla reunited. Until then, he would settle to watch others do whatever useless thing they wish to do...The dark elf looked out the window and began to think.

[color=0054a6][i]Perhaps I should replace my equipment...[/i][/color]