Remorse… from the Dawn of Magick

Innycines wailed inconsolably and sat forlorn upon the rocky ledge outside the ancient cavern.
His anguished cries echoed off the canyon walls and traversed the wide expanse over the tumultuous waters that raged through the thousand-foot gorge far below him. There was no need to fear an enemy in this place. His greatest foe at the moment was not from Koorlost but his anguished mind. In his torment, he was unaware of her approaching footsteps. The svelte female brushed her long orange-red hair aside and silently touched his shoulder.
He sobbed and asked, “What is the word of the boy?”
Maranna answered, “He has not left the lad’s side since the Cloudmares ferried them here. He will not rest though it’s been three days. I know you arrived shortly thereafter and you have not also sought the peace of sleep. Your wounds are deep. You should take rest.”
“I have taken innocent blood. There is a stain upon me that no amount of rest, waters, or atonement shall ever remove,” the muscular male answered.
Tears fell from his injured eyes. Having removed the arrows from his eyes, his remarkable healing abilities had them well on the way to recovery. He did not look at Maranna but instead glanced to the area where the three smoky gray almost translucent steeds grazed on the thick foliage that surrounded the cave’s entrance and covered the small plateau to the left of where they sat. Similar to elves’ tears, small iridescent droplets fell from his eyes, and struck the stone at his feet, and burst into an array of colors.