mythopoeics

( save sorrow for the souls in doubt, bleed every care out... )

[After the battle, he hadn't lingered for long. He'd said a quiet prayer for the man and left. Old habits.

It was a long time after the fight, after getting his wounds treated and what celebration was going on that he picked up his journal. Troilus - that was his name - had asked him to tell the Trojans he was not upset. The possibility that this could end with dealing with other's emotions was high. However, a dying man's request wouldn't go ignored. He could give him that and once he had, it was over. It was done.]

[Filter: Trojans]
I am afraid I am not knowing any of you and this will probably not be something you are wishing to read. I am Erol.

Your...Troilus. He was wanting me to tell you he is not bearing me ill will. I would normally not be bothering, because words could...uh...make it worse and I am not having proof, but I am believing dying requests should be given. Even if it is making unpleasant responses.

I am...sorry for your loss. If you are being angry with me, it is okay. I understand.

[Filter: Leyla; language: Turkish]
See, cousin? Your confidence was well placed. I am mostly okay. A few cuts...but it's nothing.