Part XII: Loss

By Dagoth Nevena, Acolyte of the Sixth House

My dreams after the Sacrament were unlike anything I had ever experienced before, even with Cerebel. They were something more than real, but I can’t describe it; I don’t think anything I say could make someone understand without having first experienced it, but what I witnessed was beautiful in ways that defy description. How can one describe what it is to bask in the presence of a god? The only way I can describe it is like laying out in the sun and feeling completely safe, but even that fails to encompass what I felt when Lord Dagoth laid hands upon me. What I felt with him, it just can’t be put into words; the trappings of language are too frail to explain what it is to stand in the presence of a god and to hear him welcome you into his house, but I will never forget it. I’ll never forget what it was like to feel Lord Dagoth’s presence and to know that he has welcomed me into his house.

As for Milos though, I am growing concerned. He has soaked through all of his bandages and the scraps we rip off from our clothes are doing little to halt the bleeding and I worry his time is nearing its end. He tells me not to worry. He tells me that Lord Dagoth will protect me and guide me if he is to die, but I’m not ready for him to go. I won’t allow it. But he says that some things are meant to be and that if it is his time, it is his time.

I hate that about him.

I hate that and I hate how much I’ve come to care about him.

I remember in Kirinibbi when I first met him. I remember the look in his eyes and how he told us that the only thing that saved us from death was the good grace of Lord Dagoth, but that’s not the man lying here with me in this cave. That was someone else. Someone I don’t even know anymore. I don’t even think he knows him anymore, but that’s okay. He doesn’t need to worry about his past right now; he needs to worry about his future.

He tells me not to waste my energy on him anymore, but I can’t just leave him to die. I can’t. He’s my friend. More than a friend. He’s someone—I don’t know—someone I think I love? Not romantically, but he’s special. I just don’t know how to save him and I can’t lose him, not like I lost Cerebel. Not like I lost Eno. I can’t keep losing people. I just can’t.

He keeps telling me that attachments are a dangerous thing unless they are to the right things, but he doesn’t understand. How could he? Who or what has he ever lost? I suppose I don’t know the answer to that question; I’ve never really probed much into who he was before Kirinibbi, but I don’t want to accept that he’s right, even if I know he is. I hate it. I hate knowing he’s right about attachments, but I can’t just not care. Asking that of me is like asking me to stop breathing or to stop eating; I just can’t do it. But I don’t know if I can save him either. My magics have done nothing to staunch the bleeding and we’re running out of clothes to rip apart to stuff the wound.

I just don’t want to accept that this might be the end for him.

I don’t want to lose him.

Please, Lord Dagoth, save him. I beg this of you as your humble servant and I surrender myself to you in all that I am, just please, do not let Milos die like this. Please. Hear my prayers and save my friend. I beg this of you, please, don't let him be taken from me like all the others.

-Dagoth Nevena, Acolyte of the Sixth House