Clay
in his Hands
/he's
been running for so long, it's starting to kill him
Word
Count:
481
Rating:
T-
Disclaimer:
Still not Kanthia's, try as she might.
Pairing:
None.
Kanthia
notes:
Dhaos is a breath away from Chaos, which seems to be his way of
castle design. That was a ridiculous final dungeon.
SPOILERS? PERHAPS.
x x x
The Eternal Sword is clay in his hands as they step through the door, the ragged and broken six of them. They have been racing through this Martel-forsaken castle since time immemorial, leaving a wake of blood in their path. He is not sure whether it is more the blood of monsters or their own, but he is starting to think more towards the latter.
Every step of the cold stone path is a trap meant to confuse, to destroy. He still remembers the singing circle laid to rest on the ground where he watched his friends disappear as though they were dying. The Derris Emblem had sank into his chest and bit hard, laughing at his misery- he had been lucky to be wearing it, and it wanted him to never forget the debt he owed it.
It had been hard work. He had slain the brothers who guarded the emblems, plucking the gold things from their gored corpses. He had done this five times before heading to the prison, bloody and exhausted, to find his tortured friends.
But he is not frightened. Dhaos sits inside this castle, and they must push on.
He reminds himself, as he slashes and springs and thrusts and calls forth the blades of chaos- he's not enjoying it- that soon he will have his revenge for all those people Dhaos slaughtered for reasons unknown. He can't lose his will now. The castle will fall open before him, its illusions ground to dust at his feet.
Chester calls for them to stop and rest. He is unwilling, but there are no trees in this terrible place and they must turn back to recollect themselves. Claus, in their need, calls forth the ruler of hellfire and Arche opens her hand to light a fire from the stones with its help. Mint finds a passable stewpot and starts cooking a meal from their paltry rations.
It's okay. Mint can find nutrition in anything, but they haven't had a decent meal in two days- at least, it feels like two days- and it's affecting their morale.
As soon as they finish eating and Chester returns with a full quiver, they push on. The halls of the castle are dishonest and conniving. Every step they take seems to fall in a different place than they intended, each hall a dead end. They slay eyes and ears and angels and demons and walk through walls without stopping, without thinking, without pausing to think about why.
They must. They simply must. There is no time for fear.
But as they step through a last door and suddenly they can see clear into Space he knows Dhaos is soon in front of them. He can hear a distant song like the moons singing a lullaby for his death, and for the first time since Toltus burned before his eyes, he is afraid.
x x x