Tainted Palette

After all those months on the Dark Island, being home again was a surreal experience. Had Sheshin Keep, his childhood home, always been this quiet?

Kai poured a porcelain bowl of water over his head; warm rivulets streamed down his body, and he set the bowl aside to wipe soapy water from his eyes. The bar he used was coarse and tinted yellow: simple, inexpensive soap that was typically used by soldiers. He'd requested it specifically for the reason that it was unscented. The cloying smell of his old soap reminded him of the oils Overlord had used in his baths.

He pulled his hair, dripping with water, back from his face and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, steam rising into his nostrils. It had been so long since he'd last bathed in anything as luxurious as hot water. Not since he'd been in that cursed keep beneath-

Kai didn't have time to enjoy this luxury right now. He opened his eyes and- with a stab of pain from his healing ribs- reached under the water for the chain, which he pulled, draining the water.

In the short time between Overlord's defeat and Cyrus' letter, Kai had dared to imagine what it would be like to go back home. He would be a hero. Not that the fame mattered to him, but maybe it would be enough for his father to welcome him back home. Perhaps there would finally be peace, both within his own family and throughout the country. The thought now made his chest ache with sorrow.

Kai stood, water streaming from him, and reached for his towel on a nearby table. In the old days he'd had a servant do all of this for him: take his bowl when he was done washing, give him his towel, even pull his Host-cursed plug for him once he'd left the room. Now, the mere thought of allowing a servant into his washroom sent a shiver through him. He glanced about, half fearing he'd see one such servant watching him quietly from a corner of the room. But, of course, he was alone. (He'd made sure of that almost before setting down his bag.)

Kai wiped his face with the towel, then stepped out onto the plush rug, the drain gurgling behind him. Tying the towel around his waist, he pushed open the door and entered his bedroom.

The sky outside his window was dark and clouded; starless. The clock on the mantle indicated that it was just after five in the morning. He had about an hour until his meeting with the South's leaders. Among their ranks were Queen Misako, Zane, Cyrus' lieutenant, and of course Kai's mother. Bless her for gathering everyone at this early hour.

As Kai walked to his wardrobe he paused, noticing the clothes that had been laid out on his bed while he was in the washroom. Leaving them for now, he swiped a comb from his bedside table and sat on a cushioned stool by the fire to work through the tangles in his hair. Even if the bath was a little too luxurious, it did feel good to wash away the filth from his time aboard that ship. It felt…normal. And somehow also not.

Will I ever get used to this? he wondered. This close to the fire, his wet hair sweeping around his shoulders was comfortably warm. Will this way of life ever feel completely normal to me again?

Somehow, he suspected not. How odd it was for a lifetime of habit to be upended by a few months of chaos. Kai felt like a servant trying on his master's robe. A slave sneaking treats from a tray during a feast.

Once his hair stopped dripping water he stood to examine the clothes that had been laid out for him. Stiff, fawn pants and white undershirt. Long red coat, split in the back. He fingered the gold embroidery on the breast.

A firm knock came at the door. Kai pulled his hand away from the coat, startled, and glanced behind him.

"Kai?"

It was Cole's voice. Kai slipped into his pants and opened the door.

Cole's hand shook visibly on his cane. "Hey," he said, and pushed past Kai.

"Hey," Kai replied, narrowly stepping out of the way. "You okay?"

A beat in which Cole looked embarrassed. "They tried to make me take a bath," he admitted finally.

"Mmm," Kai grunted. "Well, in their defense, you do smell."

Cole shot him a glare and continued striding deeper into the room. He paused at the sight of the shirt and coat draped across the foot of the bed.

"Its not right," he said.

Kai shut the door. "What?"

"The uniform. It's not…" He gestured with his free hand. "It's not you."

Kai frowned. Cole's own outfit was of a similar make, but the coat, a dark violet-gray, reached only to his waist.

Cole looked around the bedroom with soft green eyes. The eyes of a Prince.

"If you're worried about the meeting," Kai said, "you don't have to go."

"Yes, I do," Cole said firmly. There was a moment of silence. He shook his head. "I can't believe this place."

Kai moved back to the fireplace and sat in a more comfortable chair to lessen the ache in his ribs. Lately, he couldn't even manage to dress himself in front of Besai without a sense of shame and embarrassment. So it made him pause when he realized that he felt comfortable only half-clothed in Cole's presence.

"It's a little tough to swallow," Kai agreed.

"No, it's not that," Cole said. "I don't condemn riches. It's just hard to believe that you live this sort of life."

"Lived," Kai corrected. "And I'll be honest. I never really fit in here." He gestured to his tattoo, quieting. "I'll fit in even less now."

Cole's eyes never wavered from Kai's. "Do you want to fit in?" he asked.

The question caught Kai off guard. "I don't know," he admitted. "But this isn't about what I want. They need me."

Cole said nothing to contradict this. As he shifted on his feet, Kai noted that the tremble in his hands was lessening.

"There's still some time before the meeting," Kai said. "Would you like me to help you wash?"

Cole's eyes dimmed with resignation. "No," he said. "Can I do it here, though? The servants in my room…"

He trailed off, but Kai understood. "Yeah," he said, gesturing to the washroom door. "Go ahead."

Cole nodded his thanks and, with a quick glance at the clock, retreated to take a bath.

Kai leaned back in his chair with a grimace and a sigh. Overlord messed us up good, he thought. He really did.

After a few minutes of quiet Kai heard flowing water in the washroom. He touched his face, realizing only then that he'd forgotten to shave. He'd just have to do it when Cole was done. For now, he really didn't want to keep sitting here, staring at the fire: it was dangerous to lose himself in his thoughts for too long, since every trail of thought ultimately found its way to the same grim destination.

So he stood, wandering over to his desk. A small stack of his artwork lay on top, and he tilted his head, spreading them out to examine more closely. Charcoal sketches, many of nature, drawn with loose, angular lines. Paintings and chalk drawings splashed with a rainbow of color.

Something felt distinctly wrong as he looked at this small sample of his collection. Easing himself into a chair, he opened a drawer and selected another portfolio. He found much of the same. Vivid colors, bright subjects. Kai remembered where many of these had been made; the various materials he'd used. The places, people, emotions which had inspired him.

So why did it feel as if another man had created these pieces?

…He remembered riding on horseback beside his sister through autumn leaves, cold wind whipping through his hair.

There was a pull at Kai's soul- an indistinct but powerful desire- and he put away all of his old artwork. He selected a fresh sheet of thick, earthy-colored paper. This was something he'd had around for many years, but never used: he'd always preferred a paler medium. But the earthy tint seemed to call to him, so he spread it flat before him on the desk, then opened a cupboard next to his head, filled with dozens of little jars of paint. The loudest colors crowded the front, as if screaming to be used, but these were not what Kai wanted. Where was it? He knew it must be here somewhere…

…He remembered laying strapped to a table inside Overlord's fortress, powerless, as a slave- timid, damaged, and beautiful beyond measure- marked his breast with the tattoo.

At last Kai found a handful of suitable colors. He laid them out next to his paper, then chose a fine-tipped brush from a jar- a slapdash piece of pottery which he'd formed and painted when he was a young boy- inside the paint cupboard. He hesitated, glancing at the blank paper, then selected instead the widest, thickest brush he owned, along with a half-dozen others of various sizes and shapes.

…He held a knife beneath an orange tree, teaching that beautiful once-slave how to peel the overripe fruit. Desperately trying to remember how much he loved her, but the fear had made it so hard. So hard…

Kai scooped with a trowel his selected colors onto a wooden tray. Mind racing, heart shuddering as though it were wrapped beneath the coils of a mighty serpent, he swirled his paints until he had found all of the correct shades.

…He trembled in the dark, naked body covered with bruises from a brutal hand.

It takes only a bit of black to taint the whole palette, Kai reflected as he mixed. But once that's done, it takes so, so much white to turn it back again… And even then, it's never the same as it was before.

He held his brush with reverence, spinning it between his fingers on the palette, relieving it of excess paint before caressing its tip across the paper.

…He lay in a hospital bed, feeling a stirring in his chest as Ahlie called him "Daddy" for the first time.

He danced beside a warm fire, holding Besai so close, so carefully, so dearly, the song of a violin resonating in his heart.

He embraced Cole in the snow. Determined, unwavering, but also with quiet fear. Because if he let go, then Cole(- the slave, the friend, the brother-) would be lost forever.

He wept on the stone steps before Sheshin Keep as his own blood coursed through his sister's veins, a terrible poison.

He beat himself against a tree, screaming, pleading for Moonsong to make it all stop. Make me stop feeling. Make me stop hurting. Make it stop… Make it stop… Make it stop-

"Fire," whispered Cole, and Kai lifted his head, startled. His hands, smeared with paint, were shaking. Sweat beaded at his temple. His bare chest was cold; gooseflesh rippled up and down his arms.

He looked at paper on the desk in front of him, somehow surprised to see that it was now marked with a hundred wet, shimmering hues of dark, shadowy colors. Gray, blue. Violet, orange, crimson.

Sanguine. All of it surged together across the sheet like a strong, chilling wind in the hours after twilight.

"Wh…what?" Kai's throat was parched. How much time had passed?

Cole's wet hair was pulled back in a loose, careless braid. Hand gripping his cane, he examined Kai's painting, a deep, pensive, intense look in his eyes.

"It's fire consuming a forest," he whispered. "It's water swallowing a ship. It's…" He seemed shaken. "Hosts, Kai."

Kai could see nothing that distinct in this painting. Indeed, as he looked at it again, he saw only primal feelings: rage, and fear, and pain. Oh, so much pain… Kai averted his gaze from the horrid paper. Why was Cole looking at this so intently? How could he bear to-

"It's a sunrise after a storm," Cole said.

"It's nothing," Kai muttered, setting down his brush so he could take the paper in both hands. "It's a mistake. I'm going to burn it."

Cole grabbed his wrist, a look of panic crossing his face. "It's a song, Kai!" he said. "It- it's a flower growing in the middle of a rocky mountain path. It's that feeling of warmth when you hold the one you love. " He gasped, as if out of breath. "It's life, Kai."

Kai looked at the painting in his hands, frowning.

And then he saw it, there, in the streaks of red flowing between eddies of gray.

"It's your scars," he said, looking at Cole's hand around his wrist.

"And it's my healing." Cole let him go. "Don't burn it, Kai. Please."

Stop holding on to the pieces of what you have lost.

It was Moonsong's words, and with them, the cold serpent around his heart shuddered and loosened its grip.

Let it go so He can build you a stronger, more beautiful heart.

You're a prisoner of your own mind. You hold the key. Just open the door. Let Him pull you out.

He had done so, all those weeks ago, and had felt the immediate relief of a weight gone from his soul.

Why, now, did it feel like he had again picked up the burden?

Kai glanced at the crackling fireplace, then at the painting in his shaking hands. How? How had he managed to pour so much of himself into this little sheet of paper? Nothing of this world could hold this much agony: he half expected the painting to wither and fall like ashes from his quivering fingers.

"How do you do it?" Kai whispered as Cole eased the still-wet painting from his hand and set it back on the desk. "How…how do you get rid of the pain?"

Cole regarded Kai with a sorrow that surpassed all understanding. "I don't," he said, and swallowed. "You've just got to find a way to live with it."

That didn't sound right. That isn't what Kai had done when he'd gone to the Way on the day of Overlord's defeat. Kai opened his mouth to say so when a timid knock sounded at the door.

"Ah…Hosts, I'm not…" Kai glanced between his paint-covered hands and the shirt and coat on his bed. "It's time to go, isn't it?"

"I'll get it," Cole said. "Go wash up."

Kai nodded his thanks and rushed to the washroom while Cole walked with his uneven gait to the bedroom door.

Kai hastily scrubbed his hands in a flow of water inside the tub, dried them with a rag, and went back into the main room as Cole spoke to whoever was calling.

"He's…getting dressed?" That was his mother's voice.

Caught in a blind panic, Kai looked behind himself. He was relieved to see that Cole had the door open only a crack. He didn't want anyone- especially his mother- seeing his mark. Not yet. He wasn't ready to explain to her…

"Well…I'll wait, of course." Why did she sound so confused? Kai slipped his shirt over his head, then shoved his arms into the coat as he rushed to Cole's aid. He thew the door open, breathless, and managed a smile, swiping a loose strand of hair from his still-sweaty forehead.

"Hey!" he said. "I'm sorry, are we late?"

Driniah blinked at him, looking bewildered. "Ah…no. Not yet. I just wanted to give you something."

"Sure." Kai stepped back to let her in. "Is everything all right?"

Driniah glanced between Cole and Kai as she entered. "Yes," she said, but her red cheeks betrayed her. "Yes, I'm fine."

Kai shut the door, then tucked in his shirt and straightened his coat. He fastened the buttons as he stepped up to his full length mirror. He paused, staring with surprise.

How long had it been since he'd last seen himself in a mirror? The man who looked back at Kai through the glass was straight-backed and tall. The uniform fit him like a glove: just the right measures of power, practicality, and style.

But then Kai met his own eyes, and he faltered.

Without a word, Driniah came up to the mirror and held out her hand. Inside her palm was a long, black leather ribbon threaded with the colors of the South.

The serpent in Kai's chest bared its fangs as he reached for the beads. He tempered the beast and took them hesitantly. Driniah, looking relieved, helped him smooth his hair back and tie it in place.

I always knew this day would come, Kai thought, hearing the little beads click faintly behind his ears as he completed the knot. I have to do this, whether I want to or not. The South needs me.

"I prayed for so long that you would come home." Driniah seemed to have recovered from whatever had flustered her upon her arrival, and looked up at him with a thin, sad smile. "You look so much like your father. I wish you could have had a proper ceremony…"

"This is fine," Kai said. He looked at his face in the mirror, covered with a week's worth of stubble. "I need to shave…"

"There's no time, now," Cole said. He tugged at Kai's collar. "Besides. I kinda like it."

Kai turned to him, quirking a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really! It's rugged. A perfect look for the homecoming hero of the four realms."

Kai snorted, and for some reason his mother's face reddened again. "You sure you're okay?" he asked her.

"Yes," Driniah answered hastily. "I uh… I'm sorry, I don't want to be rude. But what happened to Besai?"

"That's what's bothering you? She's fine. She stayed on the Dark Island."

"…Oh." Driniah smiled, but Kai could see that something was still troubling her. She hesitated a moment before patting his arm. "Let's go," she said. "The others are probably gathering now."

I am so happy to finally post this chapter, you have no idea.

SO. A long time ago I mentioned that I was working on my characters' personalities, as defined by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I keep forgetting to do that in the A/Ns, and it's actually been super frustrating, though I'm sure none of you remember that I promised to start showing you my results. XD I'm thinking I'll do one per week, just to keep things simple. If you want to learn more about these personalities and perhaps take the test for yourself, just look up "16 Personalities." I suppose it's only right to start with Kai, eh? He's ENFP-T: the Campaigner.

I think that's all for this chapter. Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated. Have a great week!