Men who play games of war and soldiers born from circumstance...
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Kso’ppghiel groans as Io’fayl’s spell begins to wear off, leaving him disoriented and in pain. Bright light filters in through his fuzzy vision and he shuts his eyes moments after his attempt to open them, finding quickly that he wants nothing more than to fall back asleep. What’s happened to him? He doesn’t remember what he did to hurt himself or where he is. The blonde haired man moves to sit up, little coming from the effort when he realizes that he’s restricted, bound by his hands, feet and wings. It all begins to come back to him in disturbing clarity and immediately, he renews his struggles against his bonds only to find them better secured than they’d been during the travel that’d brought him where he now knows he is. His swords… where are his swords? His vision begins to focus and he looks around, trying to get his bearings. He’s still in that room and apparently he’s been cleaned and dressed in flowing robes by who knows who. It all serves to anger him more. He doesn’t exist to be anyone’s anything. A small movement to his side catches his attention and Kso’ppghiel’s head whips around, practically seething to find the Captain that took him sitting in a chair next to the bed. Pupiless, white eyes narrow and his tone is filled with pure hatred as he speaks. “Where are my swords?” The slightest of smiles forms on full lips when the other man’s demanding voice breaks the quiet of the now empty room, Bal’thial amused probably a bit more than he should be over his Queen’s new Harbinger’s one track mind. “Safe.” he answers simply as his gaze remains as steadily calm and soft as his voice. “For the time being anyway…” Uncrossing his legs, the white haired man leans forward to rest his arms across his knees, a few long braided, blood stained plaits spilling over his shoulders as he makes a motion with his head. “I want to know why those weapons are so important to you, especially when not even your own life seems to compare.” “It is not your concern.” Kso’ppghiel snaps. “They are my property, my reasons are my own. Let me go or I will kill you as soon as I break free.” He struggles futilely in his bonds while the other man simply looks on. After several minutes of trying he finally tires, weak from a lack of food, water or real rest. The blonde slumps over in reluctant defeat for the time being and the moments of silence drag on between them before Kso’ppghiel finally speaks again, the exhaustion apparent in his voice. “What is a Harbinger and why does she want me to be one? Why am I here?” Bal’thial continues to stare at the other man for a few seconds longer without answering before he smirks softly and pulls is arms away from his knees, sitting back in the chair once more. “You are here because Queen Io’fayl wants you to be here.” Sliding clawed fingers up to push his hair back over his shoulders, his mismatched gaze travels towards the opened terrace beyond. “Your skill at fighting, your unrelenting determination, I am sure it all contributes to her reasons in why she sought you out. Harbingers are her omens in a way, the ones that lead her armies into battle and by sight alone become a tell all for all that oppose her of what fate awaits them.” blue and green eyes slide away from the orange red light and back over to lock again with pupiless white, the tall Captain narrowing his eyes just a little. “Many would consider it quite the honor to be where you are now... it is not a position she offers lightly…” “No, apparently it is a position she offers in blood with little choice by way of involuntary abduction. I oppose her and I would rather die than to be forced to bow. I do not want her offer, I serve no one.” A half-cocked and tired smile bleeds through his determined anger. “You say many do, but from your tone and expression you do not.” Kso’ppghiel’s head turns up and his eyes close before he falls back against the pillow. “Captain, is it? What kind of captain allows a female to dictate his actions?” Bal’thial blinks at the question, silent for a moment before a short bout of amused laughter slips free of his lips. “One who knows the full measure of value on his own life apparently… especially when it is this particular female we speak of.” Shaking his head, the white haired man’s expression straightens and the laughter fades as he turns his head back towards the suns shining bright outside. His voice falls low, all the lightness gone and only a seriousness carrying in his tone as he continues “I care little whether it is a male or a female I serve under… strength is the only true determinant in the end, and this one… she has it and more as you will soon see.” “I would not care if she were a god, she does not rule me .” the weakness Kso'ppghiel is feeling begins to show more and more in his voice as he continues to speak. He’s exhausted and run down. He’d use magic to break free if he could, but his energy is gone and it’s leaving him with little in the way of options. He’s also thirsty, very thirsty… The blonde may wither and die of dehydration before any of them have a chance to kill him, something of which he’s beginning to resign himself to. If that is the way he leaves this world, then so be it. He only wants his swords with him when he goes. “I need my weapons, even if I cannot touch them, I need them near me. Please.” A mild amount of desperation shows through in the bound man’s tone despite his attempts to mask it. “So desperate for your swords that you have come to plead with me now?” Bal’thial starts quietly before sitting forward to pull himself free of the chair he’d been seated in. Moving back towards a heavy marble pedestal strewn with various drink and food at the far end of the room, the white haired man continues speaking as he goes. “This lowly Captain who takes orders from a female...” A small amused smirk forms on his lips as he reaches down to retrieve some fruit before moving again towards the bed. His footfalls come to a halt just before Kso’ppghiel’s bound form and as white eyes open to meet his mismatched gaze, he quirks an eyebrow and holds the food up. “Those weapons are a weakness to you… one she will find rather quickly and use against you. Once she does, you will be ruled whether you like it or not…” “They are… all I have left in this world.” Says Kso’ppghiel quietly, ignoring the hard pangs of hunger as the sight of food makes his exhaustion feel even more pronounced. He turns his head away, closing white eyes just as the heavy doors to the room swing open, held by the guards just outside for Io’fayl as she steps through. The blonde haired man keeps his eyes shut, refusing to look up at his captor when she approaches the bed or bother anymore with the Captain now standing at attention in her presence. The soft sounds of metal clinking in her hand that matches that of the adornments that line Bal’thial’s horns resonates out into the room as she turns to address him. “Thank you Captain. I trust he was… cooperative.” A small smirk forms on her lips as she turns to the immobile Kso’ppghiel, lifting what she holds for the white haired man to see. “This will make him more so.” Held within a delicate hand is an intricately carved metal mask and hanging from various places throughout are charms containing strong enchantments. Slender, clawed fingers reach out, gently pulling her new Harbinger’s chin in her direction. Kso’ppghiel does not react to her words or her movements, simply keeping his eyes closed in tired defiance. Cold metal covers his mouth and nose, the chains quickly snapped in place behind his ears. A second after the mask is secured the bound man bolts up, each enchantment taking hold in a rush of weight and pain. He tries with all he has to break free of his binds so he can tear the thing away from his face, crying out in frustration when he finds himself too weak to actually do it. He feels as if he’s suffocating beneath it and it takes little time for the understanding of what he wears to set in. His magic is nullified and he knows that any words to leave his lips will only be words so long as the mask is in place. Bal’thial stands still as the Queen’s Harbinger continues to thrash about in an attempt to free himself of the newest binds and he can’t help the slightest twinge of sympathy that shifts through him at the sight. Io’fayl simply remains as she is, a pleased look painting her pretty features and her rust colored gaze taking every movement Kso’ppghiel makes in. The Captain knows she’s enjoying watching the other man’s futile attempts at freedom and he wonders mildly how long he will be able to keep the defiance up. He also finds himself wondering how long it will be until he breaks just like her previous chosen had broken before him or whether the blonde’s words hold truth in that he’ll die before he willingly bends to her rule… He’d be a little surprised if Kso’ppghiel doesn’t give in sooner or later, no matter the circumstance, all fall for his Queen’s wiles in the end… “Your work is done, leave us.” She waves her Captain off without ever taking her eyes away from the masked figure on her bed and Bal’thial bows in the slightest in response, taking his leave by turning to move through the opened doors at the far end of her room. Amusement dances over Io’fayl’s face as she continues to watch her new pet tire himself out and eventually he slumps in his bindings, his breath leaving him in exhausted pants. The Queen walks slowly over to the bed and sits down at his side, her fingers moving lightly through tangled blonde locks even as he tries to pull away from her touch. Mithghiiel took everything from her and so she will do the same to him through his son. She will start with his name. Io’fayl kneels up on the bed, ignoring his movements of protest as she reaches over to latch onto his horns, pulling his head over to face her. Her rust colored gaze is met by pained white, the defiance he holds clear even to the very end. “Your given name will not suit you here.” She smiles slyly. “You are no longer Kso’ppghiel under my rule. You will go by the name of Kincaid from now on. Do you understand?” “That is not… my name.” He frowns, speaking through tired pants with words slightly muffled by the mask. “You will accept it in time, as you will come to accept my rule.” She answers simply “They always do. I wish you to understand, Kincaid, just how much of a privilege this is for you. Anything you want can be yours.” “I want… my freedom and your death…” he tries again to pull away and finds his movements useless. “-And that is not my name.” Io’fayl frowns slightly, shoving his head back down in her annoyance. “Neither of which you can have, child. I will leave you here to contemplate your new position, perhaps when I return you will have a better understanding just how little control I will afford you should you continue on like this. I can parade you around like a slave or you can stand willingly by my side. The choice is yours but I can assure you Kincaid…” A vicious smile crosses her lips as she rises from the bed. “I do not treat my slaves very well.”
 The soft chiming of metal resonates into the air, steam pouring free of the arched doorway leading to Bal’thial’s bathe as he steps free and light linen robes trailing behind him while clawed fingers pull away from the ornamental caps re-adorned on long winding horns. Wet, snow-colored locks cling to his back and the smallest trail of water drips from his tall frame as he moves towards his bed where the Harbinger's swords sit propped up against the large marble platform beneath it. Seating himself at the edge of his bed, he slides his fingers along the leather wrapped hilt on one of the twin blades before wrapping his fingers around it to pull it up and examine it. Blue and green eyes narrow as he twists the weapon slowly in his grip; his gaze sweeping over every small detail until the familiar sounds of skittering footsteps begins to ring beyond his closed doors from somewhere out in the hall. Small, clawed hands knock rapidly on his door until Bal’thial calls out to the one he knows to be there, telling him it is okay to enter. The feathered creature pushes the heavy wood open, closing it quickly behind himself before rushing over to the Captain as he remains lost in thought with the longsword he holds. “And? And? And?” Sav’real fidgets around impatiently. “There are rumors going between the ranks that Tir’snin is dead. Did our Queen replace him with that Kso’ppghiel? What happened, how did it go? I also heard she was out looking for a powerful binding artifact.” His questions are rattled off quickly in a way that makes the white haired man laugh. “Calm yourself, friend” Bal’thial says before setting the longsword in his hand back in its place next to the other, motioning for Sav’real to seat himself down. “Tir’snin is indeed dead.” leaning back against the headboard, the tall Captain crosses one leg over the other while the small feathered creature hops up before him as settles on the plush fabric below. “She killed him for Kso’ppghiel’s benefit with myself as a witness and he did not bother to struggle through the act as it was done.” A smirk forms on his lips and the metal adornments dangling from his horns clink quietly when he shakes his head in slight disgust. “It was a rather pathetic death in all truth but strangely fitting I suppose. Kso’ppghiel has taken his place… though he is not willing and so she has him… bound, in more ways than one.” “At least we won’t have to see him all whiny and forlorn anymore. I’m honestly surprised he lasted as long as he did. Boredom maybe. She doesn’t let most get as pacified as him before she culls them.” A small laugh leaves the feathered creature's mouth. “I didn’t think Kso’ppghiel’d be willing.” he stops, debating for a moment in silence about his words to come before he speaks again. “How did she… you know, react to him when she first saw him?” Sav’real has been worried that his near identical resemblance to his father may trigger some deeply buried emotions that would not leave poor Kso’ppghiel faring too well once she got ahold of him... “She was surprisingly… emotional.” Bal'thial says quietly, a distance creeping into his tone and mismatched eyes narrowing as he stares beyond Sav’real out into his room. “Volatile as always… but there was something else there when she first saw him. It was quick to come and gone even faster… but there. Her anger towards him was great, so much so that I wondered if she truly planned to make him her Harbinger or just kill him like it seemed she would do…” the tall Captain’s gaze slides back over to meet serpentine blue and he smirks. “Of course the moment she had ripped Tir’snin’s throat out, I wondered no more.” Sav’real shakes his head. “I’m not surprised. Like I said before, there is so much more going on. She may kill him yet though, depending on what he does, there’s always that possibility.” He wants to say Mithghiiel was the only one he’s ever seen get actual emotion out of her but he thinks better of it... There is entirely too much he wants to say that he knows he can't. His only hope is that Bal’thial figures it out soon so he can actually converse with him about it instead of holding it all inside like he's been doing. Before the small creature can speak again, a loud commotion filters in from outside the closed door. Shouting and the sounds of metal clanging against marble erupt as both the Captain and Sav’real whip their attention towards the source. “That doesn’t sound good…” “No, it does not.” Bal’thial says even as he’s pushing himself up and off his bed, moving swiftly towards his large wooden doors. Within moments he’s flung them open and is moving out into the hallway to find his Mistress’s newest Harbinger at the far end, spilled against the marble at the base of the long winding stairs with a group of guards moving down in order to surround him. “Leave him!” He calls out as he makes his way towards the fallen man, the others pulling immediately back at his command. “I will take care of this.” His subordinates nod hastily as Kso’ppghiel struggles to pull himself up and moments later, only the tall Captain and he remain in the wide hall. The many enchantments that dangle from the mask securing his face clink loudly against one another as the blonde lashes out when Bal’thial bends in towards him; only to spill forward immediately when the other man shifts to the side and causes him to miss his mark. Linen robes rustle as the Captain slides easily behind the struggling figure and clawed fingers wrap around his arm right after to quickly hoist the Harbinger up. “You are in no shape to gain yourself freedom if this is the best you can do…” “Kill me.” Kso’ppghiel whispers while the Captain begins the task of bearing both their weights as he slowly ascends the staircase at their fronts. Leathery wings fall limp behind and the blonde-haired man spends the last of his energy tearing at the metal that covers his face, only succeeding in lacerating his own skin instead. Without stopping any movements, Bal’thial reaches over to secure his hands and prevent him from doing any further damage. Kso’ppghiel finally relents as they continue to climb the stairs, falling into the other man’s grip while finding himself unable to hold anything of his own. Sav’real peeks out from behind the doorway of Bal’thial’s room as they slowly disappear up the stairs and soon, taloned feet are clicking quietly against the marble as he follows at a safe distance from behind. “You are well on the way to killing yourself.” Bal’thial says quietly, the steps back up towards his Mistress’s chambers slowed for the other man’s benefit. “You refused to eat during travel, and now… this is the result.” Mismatched eyes slide to his side to meet pupiless white. “Is this what you truly want? To rely on someone you have said you plan to kill for strength?” the tall Captain smirks as his gaze slides back to their fronts just as they clear the last step and emerge onto the upper level hallway. “If you keep this up, you will die before you ever reclaim your swords from me...” At the mention of his swords, Kso’ppghiel thrashes weakly, throwing Bal’thial off balance and sending the blonde unintentionally crashing to the ground. He brings himself up to his knees in an attempt to rise, only to end up hunching over towards the cold floor when his strength completely fails him. The dangling bits of metal drag and clank over the marble as he works a hand out below himself. “I can barely breathe in this thing… how would you suggest I eat?” He gasps between his breaths as he works to fold his wings behind his body. The initial pain the mask had caused him have begun to leave an almost overwhelming sense of nausea inside, one that he’s sure isn’t helped by his lack of food or drink. “Get it off my face…” Squatting down, the white haired man reaches out to lift one of the embossed enchantments, spending only a moment twisting it in his hand before he allows it to drop and sets his arm over an upturned knee. “Removing it is something you will have to take up with our Mistress.” Pupiless white eyes narrow, rising slowly to meet his gaze and when he speaks again, his voice leaves him so low that it's nearly a whisper to ensure his words are only heard by the one at his front. “I would suggest, Kso’ppghiel… that you control yourself in her presence and play the game for the time being. Queen Io’fayl can be a generous woman when she feels she has gotten her way… but for all her generosity, her cruelty is equally so… ” Kso’ppghiel says nothing as he stares exhaustively into the mismatched eyes of the Captain. The words are understood, but he's having too hard a time in allowing himself to give in to what's being said. The silence is suddenly broken as Sav’real skitters up the steps a little too quickly. “Mistress is coming.” He says in a frantic, hushed tone before running off so as not to be found with them. “I have been told…” Io’fayl’s voice fills the hall outside of her chamber as she approaches the pair from below, both her tone and her gait unhurried. “That our new guest does not like his accommodations despite being strapped to them. What would you suggest we do to prevent this incident from repeating itself again, Captain?” “Perhaps Mistress,” Bal’thial starts as he rises to his feet and turns to greet her rust colored gaze with his mismatched own, “your new Harbinger needs time to understand the full measure of benefits his accommodations will bring…” bowing his head in respect as Io’fayl draws closer, blue and green eyes drop. “Or perhaps he is simply in need of a leash.” Io'fayl's face practically lights up in amusement at the suggestion of a leash. “Perhaps you are right." she muses, "Though if he does not allow our presence, he will never live to see these benefits at this rate. Has he had water or does he refuse even that?” Io’fayl looks down at the pained figure below, smiling a little wider as he fights so hard simply to remain upright and a delicate clawed hand reaches out to piece through the adornments that hang from her Captain’s horns soon after. “Sav’real mentioned in his report that with him you procured two longswords our dear Kincaid here seemed rather attached to. I have yet to see these swords…” “Do not touch my swords…” Kso’ppghiel strains through the mask, causing a wicked smile to spread over the lips of the woman above while Bal'thial's eyes only narrow in the slightest. “Fetch these swords for me, have them cleaned as I am sure that as their owner arrived to us, they are filthy. I want to see them.” Io’fayl’s attention turns to two larger guards standing outside her chamber and she points to the blonde. “Bring this one inside.” The tall Captain's mismatched gaze shifts briefly down to meet the Harbinger’s own the moment their Queen’s back has been turned, the briefest of nods given to her a moment later before Bal’thial turns completely away. Metal adoring long, winding horns chimes softly as he moves back towards the stairwell that leads down to the levels below while her guards move swiftly to bring Kso’ppghiel back into her chambers as they’d been instructed... |
