Solitude | [eng]

02/18

Einar had not yet fully recovered from the events of February ninth. For a few days now, he had been waking up late in the morning, going through the motions of the day with little enthusiasm, and then retreating to his study. It had been about a week since he had been behaving like this, and Eldur had noticed something strange in Einar's behavior. But being a dog, the only way to show him support was to stay by his side even in the darkest moments.Like the eight days before, Einar felt the need to retreat into the quiet of his study: his refuge, where he could try to sort out his thoughts and emotions. With heavy and tired steps, he made his way to the room, followed by Eldur, who watched him with concerned eyes.Once inside the study, Einar sat down at his solid wooden desk and lit a candle, illuminating the room with a dim, flickering light. The warmth of the flame enveloped him, creating a cozy and reassuring atmosphere. He took a moment to breathe deeply, trying to find inner calm.He picked up another one of his favorite books and flipped through it absentmindedly. His mind kept returning to that day. Einar couldn't shake off the thought of death that haunted him. He got up, opened a cupboard where he kept his spirits. He took one, Brennivín, a well-known spirit of his country. The bottle was a dark green color, shining almost like a black gem under the candlelight. He opened it carelessly and poured himself a shot, which didn't have an effect, so Einar, continuing to drink, ended up downing half a bottle. It burned slightly in his throat, but he was so drunk at that moment that he didn't notice. The spirit took its effect, and Einar couldn't think anymore, consequently his memories of that day vanished like smoke during his drunkenness period. He didn't feel anything anymore. He picked up the book again, and began to read it aloud, like an actor, and Eldur was his audience.— Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.But at my back in a cold blast I hearThe rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear— then he stopped, looking for a particular page. And he began again— Burn burn burn burnO Lord Thou pluckest meO Lord Thou pluckestburning—Eldur, who was listening intently, even though he didn't understand what the man was saying, approached and sat at his feet, emitting a reassuring warmth and a silent presence. Einar gratefully stroked his head, feeling the faithful company of his four-legged friend.