Men who play games of war and soldiers born from circumstance...
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Scroll 02 : 05
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“Mistress.” Bal’thial’s quiet, even tone sends rust colored eyes flying upwards to settle on the only figure left standing in the room. Mismatched pupiless fall away in respect, the metal adorning winding horns chiming softly as the white haired Captain lowers his head. “You… are injured. Please allow me to tend to your wounds…” Io’fayl stands in silence, simply staring at her Captain and doing all she can to quell her anger before she takes it out on him as well. “While your concern as appreciated, Captain, it is obviously unnecessary.” She says in a tone set low as she pulls her gaze away and slides it over to settle on the empty brackets that hang above her bed. She needs to remove herself, this is becoming too much and it upsets her she cannot control her emotions around this man. “Remount the swords, tend to his wounds and stay with him until I get back.” Io’fayl continues simply, not bothering to look at Bal’thial as she moves to exit her chamber. Blue and green eyes slide back to watch the Queen as she disappears out into the hall, immobile until her echoing footfalls have faded mostly away before his gaze slides back to settle on the fallen man laying broken before him. Narrowing his eyes, the tall Captain sighs heavily and moves forward, leaning down to retrieve the Harbinger’s swords from the place they still hold against his back. Within moments, clawed fingers have replaced the weapons on the mounts above Io’fayl’s bed, Bal’thial hopping down soon after to return to Kso’ppghiel’s side. The sounds of tearing fabric resonate out into the otherwise still air as the white haired man rips a strip of silk free of the robes that cover him before he slides forward to pull up a long cracked piece of marble from the pile of rubble that surrounds the blonde. Sharp fangs bite down on the fabric, the cloth held in place between full lips while he carefully positions the Harbinger’s broken wing. He slides severed bones into place and secures the makeshift marble splint together with one hand, while the other reaches up to pull the long silken strip partially away. Snow colored braids spill over his shoulders as he leans down, maintaining his mouth’s hold on the binding while he makes a few quick twists around the leathery appendage with the opposite side. When he reaches the end, Bal’thial allows it to drop away, pulling back to secure it in place soon after. Slipping strong arms beneath the bleeding man’s frame, the Captain carefully lifts him up and the metal enchantments of his mask clink with every move made as he turns to carry him back towards the waiting bed. The movement stirs the broken man slightly as he is set down on silken sheets, Bal’thial leaving to grab a wet cloth and returning shortly after to carefully press it against torn skin, causing Kso’ppghiel to flinch slightly with each touch of the cold fabric. Every flinch causes more pain to radiate throughout his form but he is unable to stop himself despite it. White eyes never open as he speaks, his mind swimming in such a haze that he’s unsure if he’s even really conscious. “I want to go home…” The words are barely a whisper and even the white haired Captain has trouble hearing them. “You are home…” Bal’thial frowns after the quiet plea sinks in, his response flat and very low. “Queen Io’fayl has no intention of letting you go and the sooner you realize this, the better off you will be.” Kso’ppghiel flinches when the cloth slides away from his face and over to the abrasions riddling a muscular arm, the taller man narrowing his eyes while allowing his voice to drop even lower. “It does not have to be this way… there are freedoms you can gain if only you would learn to control yourself a little better in her presence. The more you fight, the tighter she will pull your chain.” “This is not home… home does not exist anymore.” Kso’ppghiel turns his head away, wincing as his horns hit the plush pillows below and send the chained enchantments on his mask jingling. “It has to be this way… there is nothing else... everything is gone. Pull the chain until it snaps my neck.” A soft breeze flows through the room, and the two men sit in silence for several long minutes longer before the tall Captain’s voice breaks the quiet that surrounds them. “Only a few weeks’ time and she has already taken the life from you...” Bal’thial shakes his head and pulls the cloth away from marred skin before sliding himself free of the bed and turning away from the prone figure still lying below. “Or is it that there was never any life in you to begin with? How shameful…” Pupiless white eyes slowly open at the other man’s words only to be hit with the waning sunlight but he refuses to shift away from it even as it shines in from the terrace windows until the Captain’s footfalls begin to fade away. Gritting his teeth and taking in a deep breath, the Harbinger shifts his head over to find Bal’thial’s tall frame emerging from the open bathe doors with a fresh cloth in hand. “Even when faced with the greatest loss imaginable,” he continues as he returns to the blonde’s side, “there is always something.” “No… faced with the greatest loss imaginable there is nothing. You know nothing of me…” Kso’ppghiel’s words come out almost venomous. “Unless you have had to bury the only ones who ever meant anything to you with your own hands, you know nothing.” Mismatched eyes narrow as he stares down and when Bal’thial speaks, his tone carries a spark of hallow anger the Harbinger has not heard in him before. “It is you who know nothing. You are not by far, the only one to have loved ones ripped from your hands, nor will you be the last. We have all suffered losses Kso’ppghiel, some more so than others true, but eventually we all must learn to fight past the pain loss brings and find a way to carry on. You are no different in that despite what you seem to think.” Kso’ppghiel’s gaze soon matches the Captain’s, neither man willing to look away. “Do you see those swords up there? That is all I have left of my family. My mother, father and sister are all contained in some form on them. The sword my father gave me and the one I took from his corpse after he was killed in front of me by abominable creatures, sent forth by an organized army. I am taunted with them daily, what is left of my life dangled in front of me, unable to be reached by an insane woman who thinks she can tame me for fun. Would you willingly comply with that?” Bal’thial’s gaze finally pulls momentarily away, sliding up to rest on the swords hanging up above the Harbinger’s head, the very ones he’d placed himself. No wonder the other man has been so intent on regaining them, they aren’t simply weapons given to him by his dead father, they are in essence an actual piece of Kso’ppghiel’s father… Mismatched eyes remain on them for a few moments longer before meeting pupiless white once again, the taller man simply shaking his head. “I would not.” He says quietly. “But then again, I would have never allowed such a weakness to show in the first place. Our Queen uses them against you because she knows she can… intentional or not, you have essentially handed her the means to control you. And she will continue to do so Kso’ppghiel, until you learn to control yourself in her stead.” “It is not so easy.” The blonde says quietly. For him to go from almost ten years of nothing but self-sufficient solitude, even amongst others, to suddenly complying with the wishes of a woman he would like to kill with his bare hands is not something he feels he can do. He does not play games, he does not pretend. Every emotion is plainly written on his face and has been for nearly a decade. “I am not a toy or a pet… she is insane, she will kill me, it is only a matter of time and I would prefer that time be sooner than have it drag out.” He sighs. “My father would have never wanted me to give in or back down.” “Your father…” Bal’thial starts, pulling the Harbinger’s white gaze back up. “Would have wanted his son to live… I am sure.” Though he highly doubts, from what he’s learned, that Mithghiiel would have chosen this particular path for that same son. “Just as I am sure he would tell you to think carefully, know when to choose your battles and when it is prudent to give in… as most fathers tend to do” His own had said these very same words on the day he’d chosen a sword over the subdued life of a farmer and he hadn’t listened then in his stubbornness just as he’s sure the blonde won’t listen now. “My father died without standing down… he died protecting me… knowing he couldn’t win. That was not the first time he stood against impossible odds, it was only the first time he didn’t prevail against them.” Kso’ppghiel retorts before his gaze falls. Why is he even talking to this man? He’ll probably only use the information against him like his swords are being used against him. “If I had only…” he cuts himself off. If only he had gotten the confidence to fight before his family had been ripped away, they might still be here and he would be home. His life would be simple, quiet and happy with no blood or war, is what he wants to say… but he won’t, especially to this man. Bal’thial stares down at the now silent broken figure when words filled with regret trail before he finally shifts back to the edge of the bed with a sigh. “And would you now negate what your father died to protect, then?” he asks quietly as his blue and green gaze slides back over a broad shoulder to meet the other man’s once again. “What good will it do to give in as you are after he fought to save you the way you have said?” sliding his eyes back to his front and narrowing his them towards the empty doorway beyond, his voice falls low. “Who will remember the names of the ones you buried, carry on their memories and prevent the accomplishments of their lives from fading across the winds if you go against what he wanted by choosing to die now? What will be the point of all he fought for if there is not at least one of his offspring to carry on his name?” metal ornaments adorning long winding horns chime softly as he flicks his head in the slightest, a distance creeping into his quiet tone. “Regret… it sticks with you always and there is little you will be able to do to rid yourself of it, but you do the ones you loved a disservice by allowing it to consume you to this point.” “No one remembers their names, who they were, what they did.” Kso’ppghiel’s eyes close as the headache that had begun starts throbbing. “I have searched…” he tries, but he’s finding that his thoughts are having trouble connecting and the world has begun to spin around him. “I cannot find who sent that army…” The light of the room even behind closed lids becomes almost unbearable. “I-I need… I cannot think very well… the light hurts. I need to sleep… please…” His own clawed fingers come up shaking, tips grading against the mask as he absently tries to remove it in his delirious state. Bal’thial’s hands move swiftly to grasp around the Harbinger’s wrists, long white plaits spilling forward as he leans in to carefully pull Kso’ppghiel’s fingers away from the mask in order to prevent further injury. Glazed pupiless eyes open briefly to stare up into the calm mismatched gaze of the one above before he slumps completely in the Captain’s grip. Turning his head towards the other man’s side, his white eyes are rolling before he realizes it as he slips from consciousness and falls into the darkness waiting below. The tall Captain maintains his hold for a few moments longer, silent as blue and green eyes sweep over the blonde’s features before he finally pulls himself away, quickly shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Setting Kso’ppghiel’s hands across his chest, he removes himself from his Queen’s bed soon after and with his thoughts locked on all that had been said, his footfalls resonate softly throughout the empty chamber as he exits and leaves the unconscious Harbinger alone.
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