Revenge used to be all that there was to have.
Mayrin had given up, on some level, of personal revenge; it had boiled down to taking on the revenge due for Eillyne, instead. It mostly turned to chasing away strangers that she'd be averse to, or tearing up the hopes of the men who fell for the blind woman, but there was on particular line of interest that carried most weight for May to take care of.
Oldur.
She had encountered the man twice in the past, both times of which were conflict over Ellie herself. The first time, she'd make to seek revenge by tossing ale over the man, escaping without further conflict arising. The second time, she'd only just start a small scene that'd have him crawling away.
It was months before her third encounter. It was the last encounter she'd ever want.
How clever she had felt...Knowing the man to be within the House, the very one she had joined, she used such information to her advantage; bought an ale, came behind him, calling for attention.
I 'ave a question.
His annoyance was clear, as was his slight distraction to the horrid state of her face. Oath-Keeper's mark, his curse, his blessing. She couldn't help but wonder if Oldur would immediately think of the man. She'd grin, deciding last-second to toss in a taunt of this.
Don't mind m'face. Our good friend Oath-Keeper gave me this.
He'd show reaction to this right away, seeming shocked to hear such a name slip past the woman's lips; she wondered if he even recognized her. A lot of people didn't, with how mangled she had become.
She gave him no chance to respond, soaking him over with the ale, a cackle cracking into the air.
Oops! Fergot, I didn't 'ave a question. I jus' wanted to do tha'!
How clever, how clever, how clever she thought herself. She didn't expect him to strike back so soon, though. She didn't expect a single punch to send her sprawling to the ground. He didn't stop with her down, sending another round of harsh punches over the sensitive burnt portion of her face, blood welling as skin split inside of her mouth.
He accused her of misdirecting revenge of sorts upon Oath-Keeper, which she'd quickly retort.
It ain't 'em! It's—Ellie! I'm 'ere fer Ellie!
Perhaps that was a mistake.
Perhaps she would have escaped the sick fate of events that he probably saw as a joke if she hadn't said that.
A woman was with him, blond hair, watching eyes; in the back of May's mind, she couldn't help but realize that it may have been the very same woman Ellie was sure had been there.
It didn't matter, though.
It didn't matter who it was, as the scene would change to the very same woman forcing May's arms behind her back and towards the ground, bringing her upperbody immobile. Oldur in front of her, his cruel face grinning, waving a knife in front of May's single eye.
He gave her plenty of time to sear his image into her mind, intending for it to be the last thing she ever saw.
And so, it was.
She didn't realize when her arms were even released, when she was bent over the ground, sobbing, her voice broken from having pierced the air, splitting it in her pain, in her fear.
Light was there.
Light was gone.
The world became much more lonely and large. Only then, she'd begin to realize the fear that gripped constantly over Ellie.
The blind lead the blind; it's always been so.
