Apollyon x Male Warden Reader

Chapter 9: An old Wolf

After the fall of the Blackstone Legion (Y/n) had to leave and was granted permission to stay in Valkenheim by the Vikings from the Raider who (Y/n) became close friends with as well.

Now (Y/n) lived in lonely self-exile. 

I hurt my self today

(Y/n) finally reached his small hut he had built and made his home. (Y/n) remained silent as he cooked his food silently ate and stared himself in a mirror he frowned at the man he saw.

To see if I still feel

He gently brushed his hand over the scar tracing the lines lazily the burn of the memory still fresh in his mind after all these years.

(Y/n) turned and stared at the longsword he had resting on his table.

Apollyon's longsword.

He had not touched it not since he put it there all them years ago.

I focus on the pain

His heart clenched as he stared at the blade noticing the dust from years of neglect.

The only thing that's real

As he stared he could recall the memories he shared with his friends...his allies.

His Apollyon.

The needle tears a hole

(Y/n) turned away and punched a cabinet breaking it not caring for how his hand stung and how his knuckles bled he wanted to feel anything but sadness right now.

(Y/n) ended up bandaging his hand and couldn't stand being in that house with that sword any longer.

The old familiar sting

(Y/n) wandered the woods which he did often he didn't have anything better to do anymore. (Y/n) would just sit and listen to the sound of the trees brushing in the ice cold wind, and the sound of snowbirds, the occasional yip of a fox..

Or the howling of the wolves.

Try to kill it all away

The wolves would howl in the distance singing their songs trying to sooth his broken soul. There was a particular wolf (Y/n) liked she came around often she was never afraid of (Y/n) nor (Y/n) of her they sort of coexisted if that made sense.

She had a black as night fur coat and stormy blue eyes that would pierce through the darkness.

But I remember everything

She didn't have a name. (Y/n) had not yet named her, he felt no reason to. He always knew which one she was and if she was near. 

What have I become?

Every morning when he rose from his sleep he could see her outside his window at the edge of the treeline staring in his direction before slinking off into the woods disappearing as quick as she appeared.