4. Promises (kept?)

"I just don't understand."

Jirall sighed as he leaned against the wall, looking up at Asthar. "Why would my father disown me? I...I lived my life to please him and now he's cut me off. I don't understand why."

Asthar frowned as he listened to Jirall. All he'd learned from the noble was that Jirall did not have a good life. Being the only child, his father had pushed him, day and night, to fulfill the role of being the one in charge of the House of Rambaldt one day.

And that left Jirall with bitter childhood memories and the desperation to be loved. He'd never been taught how to be truly good to someone, let alone his own ex-fiance. No wonder there was hurt draped over his being.

"I don't understand either. And, I'm sorry to hear all of this. This shouldn't happen to you." The General responded grimly. He didn't know what else to say. Nothing could change Jirall's disownment.

"Thank you."

Asthar blinked, looking up at Jirall. Did Jirall just...thank him?

"Thank you," Jirall repeated, obviously noticing that the General missed what he was saying, "For...talking to me. Rather, letting me talk at you."

Asthar couldn't help but smile slightly, reassuringly. Maybe there was still hope for Jirall to get something right, that he he came to the realization that there are better ways to solve things.

"You are welcome, Jirall."

Dagran wasn't expecting to see Arganan so soon again. He'd assumed that the older man went all crazy after being so unnerved earlier.

Dagran also wasn't expecting for Arganan to give him a punch in the face after entering Dagran's cell and locking the door behind him.

"You have screwed me over in more ways than one." He heard the older man hiss, before another punch was delivered to Dagran's face.

Dagran caught the punch after that, raising an eyebrow as he looked straight into the older man's eye. Arganan looked angry, but there were traces of sadness left in the one good eye of his. But at least he hadn't torn himself at the seams like earlier.

"Like in what ways, Count?" The mercenary leader challenged softly.

Arganan didn't punch him again but still kept staring straight at him.

"You already know, Dagran." He replied firmly. "I know that you already know what ways exactly you've ruined me. Using me for your own damned plans is one thing. I'll never be able to sleep without imagining myself grappling onto you. I won't be able to look at myself naked in the mirror without imagining you right there with me. How you told me those nights that I could trust you with my most intimate secrets and desires. But I made a promise, didn't I...?"

Dagran stared. "Promise?" He repeated, but then he remembered right afterwards—

The two lay in bed, tangled up in the sheets, Arganan clinging onto him.

"Dagran?"

Dagran looked to him. "Yes, Count...?"

The older man heaved a soft sigh, his wavy hair all messy, sticky from sweat but still lovely as always. He turned his head to gaze at Dagran, the scarred side of his face showing. "Promise me something. Please."

The mercenary leader wasn't sure how to react to this. "Why?"

"Because everything feels like it's slipping away." Arganan sat up in bed, Dagran helping him and sitting up also. "I barely have a hold on my niece. She'll rebel no matter what. And..." He looked to Dagran. "And I don't want to lose her. Of course, I don't want to lose my own status as Count because of...what we have either. But I don't want to lose you all of a sudden. People just keep passing through my life and I'm sick of it. I'm just so sick of it. I want something that I know I can hang onto."

Dagran held his hand of flesh with his own, squeezing it gently. "Then I promise to stay." He spoke quietly. "I'll stay here in Lazulis somehow. Stay close to you."

Arganan smiled lightly. "And I promise you the same."

"You remember now, Dagran?"

Dagran blinked out of the memory, slowly nodding.

"When you said you promised to stay with me, you meant more than that, didn't you?" He nearly started laughing, out of mortification. He looked regretful, sad. "You actually loved me, Count. Is that right? That wasn't a lie. You actually meant it."

"Yes. I meant it." The older man heaved a sigh, looking out of the cell and then to Dagran. "I should know better. I shouldn't even be talking to you. Hell, I should be ordering an execution if my heart was hardened enough."

"And yet you're not doing that at the moment." Dagran pointed out.

"Yes," Arganan responded, "I'm not. I'm talking to you. Because..."

His metal hand came up to grab Dagran by the fabric of his vest, pulling him close and kissing him firmly, tenderly, but roughly also. He pulled back after a moment, gazing straight into his golden eyes.

"Dagran." Arganan took a bit of a breath, before speaking. "I...love you. I don't know how else to say it, you idiot, but I love you."

Dagran looked surprised. Arganan wasn't sure what else to say, or do, until Dagran kissed him in return. The older man welcomed it, and everything that accompanied it afterwards, from the footsteps leading from the cell to his chambers, to the tender warmth that came only later afterwards, stripped down to a world where there was no Gurak, no war, nothing broken, just..

A world where only they existed.

Both men panted slightly, kissing each other, tangled in the sheets.

Dagran couldn't help but chuckle slightly, tiredly, grinning up at Arganan. "Can't believe you actually came back for me, you know." He spoke up quietly.

"Really?" Arganan pulled Dagran close to him, kissing at the corner of his lips. There was something good about having someone close to you like this, even if said someone had hurt him before. Like something got put back together. "I had to fight with myself for a bit. I think you only said those...hurtful words to try to push me away from realizing how much you might be hurting. That you still feel something for me. I couldn't just sit there and stew away with anger. I want to try forgiving, for once."

"I'm glad to hear that." Dagran sounded a bit soft. Perhaps Arganan might have taken things a little overboard, but they'd been desperate at the time to feel what they could between them, to hold and touch and embrace one another—

Prick. A needle touched his neck.

—It was only then that he realized something was wrong.

"D-Dagr—" He started, but the younger man gently shook his head, placing his hand firmly over Arganan's mouth. Arganan whimpered, tried to bite, but he found himself feeling incredibly groggy. What in the hell was happening with him? Something was wrong!

"I didn't want to do this." He heard Dagran speak. It seemed like the younger man's voice was fading, becoming ever so softer, no no it was getting clearer. "I really didn't want to do this, Count. Though you did give me an opportunity, and I had to take it. Wasn't it you that said, 'great men take opportunities when they see them' or something like that? Though I doubt this makes you think I'm a great man, seeing as I poisoned you just now."

Poison...?

He tried to speak, but couldn't get himself to. It was like his throat closed up on him, nearly beginning to burn.

He grappled at his own throat, frantic, but his arms felt slow, moving through water.

Dagran was beginning to look blurry, too...blurry, so...

"Heh. I tampered with the dosage, Count, so it shouldn't necessarily be as painful. I know you killed your brother and you're going to die exactly the same way as he did. I read your diary last time we slept together, before I got caught attempting to kill Asthar."

Dagran's voice was the only thing loud and clear, and everything felt warm too warm and

The shuffling of clothing indicated Dagran dressing as Arganan tried to get himself to move, to reach for him, but he was so tired and sore all over, his throat refusing to let him speak...

"Sleep tight, Count. You'll be with him soon. I didn't want to resort to this, honestly, but I couldn't just let go of the opportunity. Sometimes you have to make a sacrifice to get to your own goals. Unfortunate that said sacrifice had to be you, right? We really could have been something."

No.

No no no no no no no no no Dagran please nooo

slam.

Zael felt his Outsider's mark warm up. He looked to his hand.

Something wasn't right at all.

And he ran straight out of his room, headed straight for the Count's chambers, because he could just sense that something was wrong.

"Zael?" Calista tried her best to catch up with himi. "What's going on?"

"Something isn't right," Zael answered as quick as he could as the two rushed down the hallway. "I...I think it's your uncle."

Both her eyes looked horror-filled at that. "No. It can't be. My uncle can't be on the verge of killing himself given his state when I last saw him, couldn't he...?"

"It's not that!" He turned to face her fully, for a second. "It's not that. Someone...is trying to hurt him. Kill him."

Neither one of them said a word until they reached the Count's chambers. Zael threw open the door, Calista running inside—

And there lay Count Arganan, his good eye closed, incredibly pale as he lay in his bed, nothing covering his naked form save for the sheets. Death seemed to surround his being, his last moments being fear and misery laced over his face.

"Uncle?"

Calista took a hesitant step forwards, before rushing to his bedside, grabbing onto his hand of flesh. "Uncle..."

She was at a loss for words.

Therius stepped in, his emerald eyes widening. "L-Lady Calista?"

Calista looked to him, heaving a breath. "Th-Therius, my uncle..."

The white knight quickly rushed over to them, putting his hand to Arganan's neck for a sign of life. "I don't feel a pulse. He's...passed."

"But how?" Zael blurted out, before he saw Therius pull his hand away to see a purplish marks at Arganan's throat, but one of the marks was a darker blue. The dark blue mark looked strange, but those other marks—

"You heard me, Zael. I fucked the Count of Lazulis. Did it to get his trust, get him to pay me the extra one thousand coins or so..."

Zael bit his lower lip, shuddering slightly. "I-I...I think Dagran killed him."

He didn't want to say those words. He didn't want to think of his friend as a killer. But after catching Dagran attempting to murder Asthar, and now having just murdered Calista's uncle, well...

He let his right hand hesitantly ghost over Arganan's throat. "He seduced the Count into trusting him again, and then..." He looked down. "Killed him."

Calista had gone quiet, but quiet rage rested in her eyes. She placed her hand over the dark blue mark on Arganan's neck, touching it gently.

"I saw this same mark on my father's hand when he was dying." She spoke quietly, thinking back to her uncle's journal. "I think it's an effect the poison had, when my uncle killed him. Dagran killed my uncle the same way, but he administered it through the neck. Probably to make him die quicker...o-oh, uncle..." She clutched onto her uncle's hand of flesh, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't get herself to say something.

Zael gently put his left hand on her shoulder, to try to comfort her. "I'm sorry." He whispered quietly. "I couldn't save him."

Therius quietly stood there, watching the three of them; Calista crying, Zael trying to be strong for her, the deceased Count lying in bed.

Then—

I see his loneliness...his sadness. He just wished for love, but found all the wrong ways...

"What the...?" Therius looked around. "Who's there?"

Zael gasped, looking to Arganan, then to his own hand. "It's the Outsider. I recognize its voice!"

Yes, it is me. The Outsider's voice was soft, tender. His heart is like mine...full of loneliness and sorrow also.

Zael's hand grew brighter, and Arganan's body began to glow softly, glowing the exact same colour. The three were silent, looking to Arganan, then to Zael's hand, listening.

I will give him another chance...he will live, but he will pay for his naivete. He will learn to trust those who truly deserve to be trusted...and possibly find love...he will be my mouthpiece and see my pain and understand it.

The glowing faded. The Outsider's voice went silent after that.

"Be its mouthpiece?" Therius repeated. He looked to Arganan, then to Zael. "What does that mean?"

Zael sighed softly, looking to Arganan. "I have no idea."

That was when Arganan's good eye shot open, glowing blue, before it faded slightly. He gasped, his metal hand going to his throat, before he shuddered, closing his good eye again. "H-hurts—"

"Uncle!?"

Calista squeezed his hand of flesh, relief in her voice. "Uncle, it's okay! I-I'm here, please, calm down..."

Arganan heaved a few breaths, opening his good eye again. Turning his head, he looked to Calista. He was obviously bewildered, confused. "C-Calista?"

Calista looked to Zael and Therius, then to her uncle. "I..." She took a deep breath. "Are you feeling alright?"

Arganan let his metal hand touch his own neck again, shuddering slightly. "Still feeling a bit out of it, but otherwise f-fine. What happened? I hear voices in my head. As far as I remember," He sat up, not caring that he was naked at the moment as the sheets covered him waist down (all these whispers, these strange words, why did he...?), "I-I don't recall this happening before."

"That's because it never has." Therius managed. "Until now. Count Arganan, the Outsider saved you. Or rather..." He looked to Zael. "Zael saved you."

Zael shook his head, looking to the mark on his hand, then to the bluish mark on Arganan's neck, seeing that it transformed into a complete copy of the Mark of the Outsider, too. "No, I didn't, Therius. The Outsider did its work. Not me. It's...we'll need to explain things to you about this."

Arganan looked down, shuddering slightly before a weak laugh escaped his throat.

"He tricked me again." He whispered.

"Dagran, you devil...I was a fool to trust you again."

Author note: Two things. One, I understand that this came out seriously late...*sweatdrop* Aah, I'm sorry! I've been so busy lately, so..yeah. Expect updates to be super slow until December at earliest for a bit. XD Thank you for your patience! XD

Second: This is a birthday present for ShitanePaiko. So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIKO! XDDDD I really hope you liked this as your gift! XDD