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She's been missing for a few hours now.

She didn't tell me where she went or where she wanted to go, she just stormed off. Nobody around has seen her and nobody heard of her going anywhere. I searched around for a while, was close to giving up and then I decided to look around our backyard just for good measure. There I saw the door on the old toolshed half opened with a strange glow peeking through.

My God.

She was sitting on the ground, covered in her blood, in a strange circle drawn on the rotten wooden floor with a knife deep in her chest right next to a locket producing that glow. At first, I was filled with confusion, then regret, then sorrow and then confusion again. She saw me, stood up and hung that locket onto my neck.

I've never felt like this before. I could feel a deep warmth within me, as if my own body was trying to keep me from going cold. I could feel my own weight pressing upon my legs. The confort of my shoes and the coldness of the air. Sensations I could feel, but that I couldn't experience or savour.

"I gave you a piece of myself, of my soul, so that if I ever go away something will always keep you warm and so that if you ever go away I'll rest safely knowing that you'll always carry a piece of me".

And from that day forth, I always wore it no matter what I did. Wether it be swimming, riding or sleeping I always wore it. Wounds hurt a little harder and my nose has been getting runny, but I don't care. I love her.

"Oh I have no soul"

She was clearly taken aback by how casually I broke it down to her, but starting like this only makes it easier to get her used to the idea. I was never a normal man. Always was somewhat distant towards others and I always seemed to be out of touch with what was normal and whatnot. Some called me a sociopath, but I was still too "alive" to say the least in order to be one. I care and have always cared for others which is why I was able to marry My'rrha when we were younger. She always told me she fell in love with how I just resonated with her.

"What do you mean, are you undead??" she asked in shock as she stood up from our table. I told her "No. Not undead, just soulless". I cannot blame her for feeling confused. The only ways elves are taught in most of their cultures that one can lack a soul are by being reanimated as a walker or having it shattered and spread into items. I wasn't like this. Believe me, I'd know. I'd feel. But I don't. My flesh doesn't decay and I can't feel the faint warmth I once had in my chest.

Of course, she then asked me how I am still alive or rather how can I still exist. Truth be told, I don't know either. Most things have a soul, an identity or a heart as they tend to say. A hammer will have a spirit that resonates to those akin to its first user or creator. A sword once used by knights of yore will only allow itself to be possessed by those with brave hearts. A dog would only lick the face of a man with a kindered spirit. I don't have that. I don't think I can ever have that again either.

As to how it happened, it did when I was still a teen. Many winters ago. Many before even My'rrha was born. My village was attacked on a summer day by 4 dark knights, followed by 2 liches. They killed everyone and raised them as undead slaves and forced them to attack and slaughter the neighboring towns all the while I was still out to play in the forest all by myself, bathing my bare legs in the cold river water.

Hours passed by without me even realizing it as my father usually went after me to grab me home for dinner, but this time that didn't happen. I only noticed that It was late once the water became too cold and the sun began to set. I rushed home, being afraid of getting scolded and going to bed on an empty stomach only to find a desolate burnt field where my home once was.

I got pinned down and I could feel them ripping my flesh apart. The undead can generally hear the beating of a heart from hundreds of meters away. I got ambushed. Fortunately, the adrenaline kicked in and I could feel nothing as my mind eventually faded away.

In what felt like an instant, I woke up to a knight wearing bright armor riding a white horse. As he watched me, giving what I assume is a thirty yard stare as his face was covered he began talking on an intrigued tone: "Curious. I have been watching you for years. Every time you fell and hit your head. Every time you caught a cold and every time another kid hit you with a rock a little too hard. I was always there, watching you and only you. You reek. You reek of something that does not belong among the rest. You're not of our devine creation and now that you died your soul was claimed by something else and not by my blade. Pestilence reanimated you, but it died once it finished among any other plague that touched your body. You are mind without soul and are therefore out of my jurisdiction as you're neither dead, undead or alive". As soon as he finished, he quickly left.

From that point on, no plague ever touched me and no ammount of time ever left an impact neither on my skin nor my hair. Every strike I felt healed as if it never happened and every child I bore died soon after birth, usually together with their mother. I roam the world waiting for whatever is my creator, to finally let me rest. To finally accept me as their child.

As soon as I told her everything, My'rrha left our house feeling the need for some fresh air and some space. I cannot blame her, I cannot blame her in the slightest but I still feel deep regret for making her feel this way. She makes my eternal torment bearable and I know she can be here for me untill the end as her elven kin does not die due to age.

That thing prolly gives good head