#sunnys ocs

Asher is no stranger to death. 

He’s literally a Dark Arts User that experiments with death energy. He dived in headfirst knowing he was rushing to his own death. Dark Arts Users die easily, especially weak ones. He’s had the pleasure of being acquainted with ones that aren’t weak, although he still has to wonder about Linh. Aidan was only past the edge because he went uncontrolled for so long. 

Regardless, he’s used to death, is prepared to hear about the death of anyone around him. That’s what it was like being part of Vlad’s army and what it’s like being a Dark Arts User. He thought nothing could shake him anymore. That’s how he was raised. 

But some part of him had closed its eyes and ignored the flashing warnings. 

It had hit him when he was running after the Silver Twins and then saw Vien propped against the wall. His body slashed brutally in several places. He had been stabbed through the stomach thrice. Everything had gone very quiet, he had dropped his sword, walked over to Vien, bent down and put his hands against Vien’s cold and dirty cheeks. He had pulled away right after, something inside his chest shuttering. He had picked up his sword and had run, forgetting about the Silver Twins. He had to find Aidan and Linh and protect them. 

He hadn’t made it on time. 

Aidan’s mangled body had been on the battlefield, forgotten and trampled upon. He had found Linh with his lover who had all but abandoned him before war had broken out and he had snapped. 

The empty part in his heart hadn’t been empty after all. And before he could realize it had been filled, it had been ripped away from him. Zander Flamouria was the only reason he hadn’t managed to fight Linh’s lover then and there and he hadn’t been able to stop screaming and crying for hours after, bent over Vien’s body and face pressed into his still chest. 

He had been numb when Princess Ebony Nijik and Zander Flamouria had offered to put him under her control so he wouldn’t die. He had nodded along, remembering that Zander Flamouria was still a specimen he wanted to study. 

Some stories are never told. 

Asher refuses to let the memories of his roommates fade away. 

He tells the magic rogues about the shy but determined boy, the boy who had lost part of who he was and the boy who was friendly and loud mouthed. It surprises him how much he knew of them. He thought they hadn’t been important and so had decided to not pay much attention to them. But now all he can remember was nights where Vien would do their hair, food fights at breakfast, patrols that had led to disaster, sneaking into the kitchens in the middle of the night, the times they had treated him like one of them even though he hadn’t done the same for them. 

He knows where he went wrong and he’ll repent. 

He doesn’t know if Linh’s lover or his killer have the same thoughts. He doesn’t care. They’re the only magic rogues he refuses to associate with. 

Asher is a selfish person. He’s not a good person. Linh had once called him a good person when they had met and Vien had tried to dissuade the boy from such thoughts. Asher had thought it was too troublesome to correct him. He isn’t a good person. He’s selfish through and through. He doesn’t care who’s good, who’s bad, who’s right or who’s wrong. That’s why he’d joined the Vlad Order, why he’d switched over to the magic rogues side without a second thought. If Vien were around he’d been shaking his head at him. 

The point is, he doesn’t care what Linh’s lover or her sister’s reasons or stories are. All he knows is that they hurt and robbed him of part of his heart and he can’t learn to forgive them for that. 

Linh had deserved to live a long life while smiling next to Vien and Aidan in that small room in Izar Palace that had felt like a coffin and yet like home. 

So he tells stories, tells the magic rogues he works with about Linh’s obvious nervous quirks, about how Aidan had once tried eating a rock, about how Vien used to dance during his night patrols. The magic rogues always ask him about himself, but he has nothing to tell them. His life is boring. All he’s ever known his entire life is a thirst for knowledge that was passed onto him by his father who had been just as thirsty for knowledge. A boring and lackluster life. Aidan, Linh and Vien had been the ones to splash color onto his black and white canvas. And now that they’re gone, he’s painting in black and white again. 

There’s nothing to him and he’s too scared to let anyone touch his life again. 

He holds everyone at a distance, throwing himself into work and dealing with everyone professionally as a researcher. The sparkle he’d felt when he’d ask Vien to try something out is gone now. 

He’s closed off his heart now. 

He’ll remain empty for the rest of his life. 

How could he possibly love someone ever again? The mere thought makes him sick.

“Tylna-” Asher looks up and sees Brinley freeze as she meets his eyes. She draws back for a moment, an ugly look of pain crossing over her face. Asher simply looks away and back at his notes. “Tylna isn’t here, let’s go.” He hears her say to whoever is with her.

Once he’s sensed that her magic signature is gone, he leans back in his seat. 

He knows that Linh and Vien would be yelling at him right now, the way they always did when he did something that put him in a bad place and he was  hardly bothered by it. Aidan would probably just roll his eyes and go back to whatever he was doing. 

But Asher is a selfish person. 

He’ll hold the dead close in his heart and keep the living far away from him. 

He’s no stranger to death. He welcomes it as a friend. He’s a Dark Arts User and all that he loves is dead.