Two Days Earlier
Arkit was walking around the camp, making time to visit each of his soldiers before Liam suddenly pulled him away into another tent with a small hiss escaping the smaller man's lips. Even though Arkit was quite experience with battles, the cloaked man had a way of getting around that seemed to assure that he couldn't be heard. He had no idea Liam was around until he was on him and Arkit hated that. "You're such a bore, Arkit! When will you decide to produce any worthwhile results?" he shouted in a whisper. Arkit had a feeling he knew what Liam meant by that but he decided to ask for elaboration anyway.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well," he said, dragging the word out for as long as he could. "It's no secret that you're a sympathizer. You're not putting your all in these battles! You're just doing the bare minimum to get by and it's no fun whatsoever."
"I would rather not kill anyone. Half of the people in the rebellion could easily pass for a child. What do you expect me to do?" Arkit asked.
"Hurt them? Any child who fights loses their child status anyway so you gotta look at them like targets. Stop looking them as people because you're wasting our time. If you don't hurt the rebellion in some way next you meet... well, I know of someone in your family who is nearly drafting age. How do you think your son will do against rebellion?"
"You wouldn't," Arkit growled.
"You don't know who you're talking to, do you?" Liam said with a wicked grin. "You know what? I won't even have to draft him. It's just easier to slit his throat as soon he steps outside his home since apparently, that's what happens when most people meet the rebellion! Now Arkit, are you going to waste my time or spill blood? Your choice. I'm usually not so merciful as to give anyone a choice." Liam's voice turned rather dark, and with most of his face concealed with his green hood, he looked rather sinister when he said that. Knowing that Liam was actually quite bloodthirsty and only needed the smallest excuse to use his knives – it was quite a popular topic among the soldiers – Arkit agreed to spill rebellion blood. There was no way he could put any of his family members in harm's way.
They didn't deserve it. He had the perfect wife and she was a natural beauty and a great mother to boot. Her heart went out to everyone and she always thought of others. Arkit had four children, three boys and a girl, who were generally very well behaved. His oldest son was interested in pursuing the military life but at the age of fourteen, he wasn't quite ready to go for that kind of life yet. He wanted his son to still have some fun. He saw the consequence in that dark-haired halberdier, who was very talented for someone who looked so young and was probably very young, yet something seemed not quite right about him.
It was the small things about him, Arkit decided. He watched him dig his lance through flesh with no flash of remorse on his face and with no hesitations. It looked like another day when he had Crimean blood spattered on his face. The only time there was any emotion was when the small group was being chased by a larger group of Crimeans. When it seemed like one of them was in trouble, a look of panic and dread filled his face and all Arkit could do was strive to keep him away from that person. In that instant, he went from being an lifeless terror to someone who almost seemed human.
He didn't want his son to be like that.
Liam grinned. "Good choice and since I'm still feeling merciful, I'll even help you out. Come follow me," he said quietly before bounding away. He was a very quick person and Arkit had no idea where his speed came from. He was able to make long strides despite his shorter legs that came from a lack of height and he was able to leap long distances as well. Arkit had the feeling that Liam was probably a branded with the strength of a laguz but he didn't want to ask in case Liam would fly off the handle. He just didn't seem stable – he was seeing the good side of Liam and he wasn't sure how long the good side would be around for. The good side wasn't much better but at the moment, Liam seemed happy and somewhat sane and that was better than when he was giddy in murderous ambitions.
Arkit didn't know Liam well but Liam was also the only one who had contact with both the military commanders and the people close to the king. He was always the one to bring news and orders from Melior, and he was also the only one who brought news of the rebellion's whereabouts. Arkit and Liam met often enough for those reasons but outside of that, Liam didn't spend too much of his free time with the military. It was almost strictly business.
"It's in here," he mumbled, going into another tent. In the tent were crates filled with bottles. There was also a girl in the tent with very long, dark hair and Liam greeted her with a hiss before grabbing a bottle. The girl stopped him and Arkit got a good look at her face, which was surprising blank and void of emotion. It rubbed Arkit the wrong way but he knew better than to comment on it. It wasn't his position to and she was probably working on the same level that Liam was.
"Liam. Elymas sends his regards. It is his will that I saw these bottles get to you safely," she said dryly.
"Are you his slave girl or something? I thought he hated people and he never told me anything about you," Liam muttered.
"That is true and he does not often mention me," she mumbled. "However, he does not mind me. You may call me Daevala."
"Don't introduce yourself like you're more powerful or something. You're just his bitch," Liam growled, leaving his tent with his bottle. Arkit moved to follow him but Daevala grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
"Elymas believes Liam to be too rash for his own good. Carry this with you," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. She handed him a small green bottle which Arkit recognized as an antitoxin and pocketed away before leaving. He saw Liam waiting outside of the tent, tapping his foot impatiently.
"What's in the bottle?"
"It's a poison that's effective against laguz blood, so theoretically it would also be effective against the branded. Have all the soldiers soak their weapons with that stuff. If this doesn't help, then you're all hopeless," Liam said with a smirk. "And if you feel like you're more honourable than to stoop down to that than consider it as an order. You have no choice."
With that, Liam was gone, running out of sight before Arkit could reject. He didn't like the idea of having to resort to poison of all things in order to take care of the rebels but at the same time, he could accept the fact that his troops were feeling tired and they weren't above using poison. He knew that when they did have orders to seek out the rebellion, he was sending his soldiers to their deaths. Even his soldiers knew that and they had the look on their faces that told Arkit that they didn't think they would live another day.
If the poison was used, then it would give in those soldiers a moral boost and that could help them perform better since certain rebels couldn't bounce back like they often did. If the archers took out the laguz first, then the brandeds would eventually be found and they could have a chance. He took a deep breath and gathered his soldiers.
Present Day
Arkit knocked the cavalier away, hitting the kid in the small of back to stun him. He then decided to look around and see what exactly he was that he was dealing with. There were only two transformed laguz, meaning that he was missing what he remembered to be a brown cat and he wanted to say there was a small hawk as well – though small was a relative term. Even a child hawk was larger than a beorc when they were transformed. He could see the dragon in the very back but he didn't seem to be interested in the battle yet.
The raven was in the air, along with a wyvern rider who was spinning an axe in his hand while he moved his partner into position. The look on the boy's face – he was definitely one of the younger rebels – told Arkit that he was eager for battle.
The rebellion seemed smaller this time than the last time he faced them, though he did see a couple of new faces that he didn't remember. Not only were two of the laguz unaccounted for, but he knew that the rebel's leader was missing. He was sure there was more but he didn't quite remember how many rebels there were and what their names were. He preferred to know nothing of the odd collection of adults and children. After all, a name that could be connected to a face was a sign of life. There was a person behind that name, a person who had a story. A person who was a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister, a significant other... suddenly, that life meant something.
The less he knew of them, the easier it was to defend the family he did know and love and that was his own family. He couldn't afford to think about a family he didn't know who would be sad to know that their son or daughter died while in battle and that was assuming that a family even existed. His family was more important to him – selfish but true.
So long as Arkit's army could hit everyone once with their weapons, a means easier accomplished by surrounding them, then they could make sure to hit the hidden brandeds among them and hit the two laguz he could see. Then they just had to wait out for the poison to take hold and weaken the rebellion. However, there were a lot of things that could go wrong – namely the wyvern who only seemed especially sensitive to thunder magic and that fact that he was sure that halberdier was beorc and he was a lethal force. The cavalier was no push over either and he also appeared to be beorc.
But that was the plan he was going to go with. He signalled for the soldiers on either side of him to go around with some predetermined signals. His soldiers began to clash with the rebels. He also signalled for the archers to aim for the two airborne units. When the spray of arrows began to fly, they immediately hit the pair in the air. The raven screeched before transforming again, hitting the ground with his wings curled underneath him. The arrows didn't seem to bother the wyvern, and Arkit could see that the arrows didn't seem to penetrate very deep. The wyvern and his rider would continue to cause trouble.
"Don't let them surround us!" the cavalier shouted suddenly. He backed up and he switched to a lance, keeping the sword sheathed to his side. The cavalier was suddenly joined by the halberdier that Arkit was so wary of. His gait was defiant, his brown eyes locking onto Arkit's. His glare didn't move even when someone tried to attack from the side and he shoved the pointed end of his lance into the soldier's direction. His lance met flesh and he merely pulled it out, his gaze still looked with Arkit's.
"We meet again, don't we? Wait, this is my battle, Joel," he said suddenly.
"You don't get to claim a battle! We should do this together, he can't dodge both of us!" the man apparently named Joel said. He attacked with his sword, which Arkit defended with his sword in his left hand instead of his right. At the same time with his right hand, he retrieved his axe from the side of his horse and he threw it into the halberdier's direction. The terror noticed too late and tried to sidestep, but the axe managed to strike his side. The wound wasn't lethal but it was obvious that the wound was still deep, as blood was already beginning to seep through his clothing. He hissed in pain, holding his side. He gritted his teeth and then raised his lance. Arkit was kind of surprised. Was something wrong with the halberdier? He thought it would be much harder to take him down.
"You see what happens?" the cavalier asked, ignoring Arkit in order to harshly grab Terror's arm and haul him onto his horse. With one glance back, that halberdier growled but didn't make a fuss as the horse sped off, presumably to head to his healer. Arkit retrieved his axe and placed it back into its proper place on his person. He glanced up to see that the wyvern rider was still in the air, swooping down to stick his axe into someone's throat and flying out of range before anyone could hit him. He and his wyvern were a good pair.
His eyes also fell on the fallen raven. He got up but almost immediately collapsed again, this time laying on his side. The poison seemed to be have been working rather quickly, which while unfortunate for him made it easier for everyone else.
He signalled for his archers to strike again. The arrows flew into the air, missing the blonde tiger with the familiar red headed archer on his back. The arrows did strike a cloaked man and he merely pulled it out of his shoulder, snapping it in half before tossing it away. He drew a dagger but he kicked the soldier nearest to him away instead of using the blade in his hand. He staggered as soon as his foot touched the ground again. Beside him was a man Arkit didn't recognize. He was using a sword and his dark hair covered one eye. Beside him was a woman who seemed new as well, using wind magic to pick off any Crimeans that the two in front of her didn't.
Another arrow hit an archer who had a braid. The arrow hitting his shoulder prevented him from firing the arrow that he had. A bigger man was fussing over him.
Still, he needed more of the rebellion to be hit by the weapons. The more of them that was hit, the better it was for Crimea. He could already feel the mood changing on his side. There was more excitement in the air, less of the gloom and doom that he was feeling prior to the battle. His soldiers seemed to even being fighting better – they were dodging and blocking, giving the rebels more trouble before their life fled them. Arkit drew his sword and galloped towards the bigger man and the archer who was hit by an arrow. Some of the Crimeans withdrew, relocating themselves to a new battle with other rebels. The archer caught sight of Arkit and straightened himself up, drawing an arrow from his quiver. He aimed it at Arkit.
"The sooner you die, the sooner I can go home," he mumbled. He released the arrow but it went wide. Arkit didn't have to move to avoid being hit. The archer glanced down at his hands, which were beginning to shake and he dropped to his knees. "How did I miss? I'm a good shot!"
"Rylar, you were hit with an arrow. Just relax. I'll hand this man," he said, spinning the axe in his hand.
"Dad, I can do this. I can -"
"The arrows are poisoned, along with the rest of the weapons. I can see it's already affecting you," Arkit muttered. "You don't look like a laguz, so you must be branded."
"Poison? You are really scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't you? How dare you do something like this to my son?" the man asked.
"You understand, don't you? I am also a father. You would do anything for your son and I'm doing everything I can to keep my son safe as well. My three sons, my daughter, and my wife are all at risk if Crimean thinks I'm a heretic. Do you know of what happened to Misha's family as soon as she was labelled a heretic? Her family was forced to move to Daein or they would have been tried for treason. Her family did nothing wrong, unless you count being related to Misha. I've tried to be as sympathetic as I could but that is something I can no longer manage to do."
Something flashed in the man's eyes. Sympathy? Understanding? It was something between those two. They weren't talking from opposite sides of the battlefield, but it turned into a conversation between fathers who understood each other. They both had a family and that family meant the world to them.
"Arkit, right? My name is Duma. I understand where you're coming from, so you'll understand why I refuse to let you touch my son. You will do no more to him. I would die if I knew that would mean he would stay safe!"
"Then are you ready to make good on your word then, Duma?" Arkit asked. Duma answered by running forward, swinging his axe. It hit Arkit on the arm, though his armour managed to take most of the damage and his injury wasn't serious.
"Dad, stop this!" his son shouted. Duma swung his axe again, though Arkit saw this and he brought up his sword to block, moving his horse back. His horse raised himself on his back legs and Arkit quickly took his axe out from its place on the horse's side and he threw it at Duma. The blade cut his neck and embedded itself on the ground, the edge soaked in the man's blood. Blood sprayed from Duma's neck, already too much blood loss for survival that was lost in an instant. He covered the wound with one hand as if that would somehow help him but blood leaked from between his fingers and under his hand. If Arkit hit just a bit closer to one side, he would have died almost instantly, but though his death would be slower, he at least had the chance to talk to to his son.
His son screamed bloody murder and quickly crawled his father's side as Duma collapsed to the ground.
"Duma, you have my word that I will do my best o prevent your son's death," Arkit mumbled.
"Thank you," he mumbled softly, his voice already hoarse. He pulled his son closer to him, whispering something in his ear. The boy chocked back a sob as his father kissed his forehead, whispering a little bit longer before he closed his eyes.
"Why?" he said in a sob.
"Because he wished it – he doesn't mind death so long as it meant that you were alright. We came to that understanding as fathers. I promised him that I would assure your safety. I want my family to be safe and according to Liam, that involved tearing apart yours. It's the way war works – there is loss of life everywhere and you don't know if you're next."
Arkit wasn't sure if the boy heard him. A man with dark hair approached him. In one hand, he had a sword and his grey eyes were locked on the bloody body on the ground.
"Rylar?" Apparently the man overheard his words to the grieving boy. His eyes fell on the kid who was sobbing into his father's shirt. "Kid, we gotta go."
"NO! DON'T ACT LIKE YOU SUDDENLY CARE!" he screamed. "JUST LEAVE ME HERE YOU BASTARD!"
"Don't be stupid. We can come back for him. I'm going to take you to Nasir," he muttered, sheathing his sword. He looked up, meeting Arkit's eyes. "You'll allow me safe passage?"
"Yes, take him away." Arkit had no doubt that Liam would have a problem with that but he did just kill one of the rebels, a rebel who died clutching his son. He liked to think he still had some compassion by letting moments like these occur.
With that, the dark-haired man picked the boy off the ground. His face was covered with Duma's blood, except for where his tears washed it away from his face. It was a more haunting image than the lifeless bodies he saw with their guts spilled. It was hard to look at someone who was grieving like that. "Let him leave," Arkit ordered and the Crimeans backed off, letting the dark-haired man off the battlefield with the child. His attention was suddenly taken by the appearance of a small group of rebels appearing at the side of the battlefield. It was the missing rebels plus someone who seemed new. There was a female hawk that he never saw before, and she looked like she was ready to fight. However, the leader, with his arm up in a sling, approached the battlefield.
"Arkit," he said. "I believe you have done enough. Take your men away now." His voice was serious.
"I would listen. You don't know who you're dealing with," someone with green haired mumbled. He pulled his blade out.
"Am I worried about you or the leader who only has one arm to fight with?" Arkit asked. The leader glared at him. His glare was piercing and if looks could kill, the man would devastate armies. He suddenly produced a tome and began casting. Before Arkit knew what was happening, giant shards of ice materialized, striking several of his men at the same time. A green tornado appeared, sweeping the ice shards away, though letting bits of ice were in the tornado, striking the survivors with pieces of ice. It bruised and cut his soldiers before dying down and it was like it never happened. Arkit never saw a spell like that before.
The leader fell to his knees, gripping his arm. Arkit knew he could attack him in a vulnerable state like that but that man beside him and the laguz around him worried him a little. There was no reason to risk anyone else anyway – with Duma dead, his mission was basically done. He had hurt the rebellion. Three were poisoned and one was dead, maybe one or two injured beorcs out of that too. He was done and ready to leave before more of them died.
"Everyone, fall back!" Arkit called.
"I'll be the one who gets to decide when you can leave Arkit," Liam suddenly called, entering the battlefield. He was laughing. "I can believe you killed one of 'em. I didn't think you had it in you!"
"We're leaving. We've done enough damage and I made a promise to the man's son."
"Do you think I care about a promise you made to someone who isn't even alive to make sure you keep it?" Liam asked, his voice venomous. "I don't care for honour or for your stupid little promise. You killed one of them! Go on and kill more! You're already here!"
Liam sprinted forward with a dagger in his hands. The new hawk female, who had bandages strapped across her chest instead of a real shirt, suddenly popped out and kicked it out of his hand and then ripped her jacket off, leaving her pants and the bandages strapped across her chest. Arkit was surprised by her build – lean but very muscular, yet somehow still feminine. He had a hard time not looking at her. In a way, she was beautiful and he never saw a women so muscular before, so it captivating somehow. As soon she her foot was on the ground, she followed up with a roundhouse kick with her other leg. Liam crossed his arms in front of him to block her before jumping up to strike her face with his foot. It was a deadly dance between the two of them, done with their fists and feet. Liam long abandoned his dagger.
Suddenly, he was hit in the stomach with an arrow. When Arkit followed the path of the arrow, he found an archer with golden eyes. He was one of the ones who was wanted alive. Liam suddenly doubled over, holding his stomach. He didn't think an arrow would affect Liam so badly, until he realized that the archer who hit must have used one of the Crimean arrows that was laced with the poison. Did these people know that Liam couldn't have been beorc? The way he was being affected though told Arkit that he was probably a laguz but if that was true then what kind was he? He didn't look like he was a laguz.
Liam laughed. "Wow, this works fast. Impressive really," he said, pulling the arrow out of his stomach. However, he only had the shaft so he stuck his fingers into the wound and Arkit could see him digging for it, grimacing only a little bit. He grinned wildly when he pulled the arrowhead out, covered in own blood. He turned it around in his fingers before his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Arkit jumped off his horse and grabbed him, suddenly pulling the green bottle out of his pocket. Perhaps this was the worry that Daevala spoke of. He shoved it into Liam's mouth and poured it down his throat. Apparently, he was still conscious enough because he swallowed on his own. A violent shiver ran through his body and he opened his eyes little before closing again.
"Someone help him onto my horse," he ordered. "We're leaving now."
With Liam on his horse and Arkit behind him, he led his soldiers away from the field. He didn't lose as many as he thought he would. The casualties weren't heavy, not even when he the leader used that spell against them. There were many people who needed to see a healer but the battle could have gone way worse for them. They took a break to let the injured rest. He helped everyone he could, applying vulnerary to his arm first and then to Liam's arrow wound. When Liam was laying down on his back, either asleep or unconscious, Arkit walked around with vulneraries and helped others pitch their tent up so they could rest. He wasn't the only one, as the uninjured soldiers were able to help plenty of the injured, but as their commander Arkit felt that it was important for his soldiers to see that he did care about them and he wasn't above walking around, spreading vulneraries on the wounds, and helping them with their tent. He didn't want them to think that they didn't matter enough to not be able to see or talk to him. He understood that it could be hard for others to talk to someone who had a higher rank than they did, especially someone who was in a leadership role.
Arkit was there once, many years ago. He was once at the bottom of the military ladder, despite his heritage. His family served Crimea and the royal family for many several generations and Arkit intended to have his son and maybe one of his daughters continue that heritage as soon as peace was once again upon them. His heritage didn't mean that he could skip the 'breaking down' phase and he too was built back up. Arkit was perhaps a little broken in that regard but he was glad that he still had the capacity to care and that he was able to keep the military life out of his family life when he could see his family. He knew it wasn't exactly common.
His heritage was one of the reasons why he was stuck in the position that he was in. He didn't want to disappoint if his ancestors. He had a feeling that the current king, King Ramon, wasn't the one making these strange orders. He saw the king once and he looked young, a little lost, but at the same time he looked kind. He didn't think that he would really call for any of this to happen but if there was even the slightest chance that it really was Ramon's will, then he would to stick to such orders.
Liam stirred, so Arkit made his way over. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit but it's all good fun," he mumbled with a small grin, which was all he could really manage. "I guess that blew my cover though."
"You don't look like you're a laguz."
"Thanks for noticing," he said, rolling his eyes. He tried to sit up so Arkit put a hand on his chest and back to hold him up. The hood fell off his head, revealing the small cat ears that poked out of his hair. However, they were flat against his head. "No really, I prefer being thought of as a beorc. I hate being a subhuman. I cut my tail off so I can blend in better and shit like that. It took a while to actually figure out how to balance myself again. It was so annoying."
In that moment, Arkit felt like he could pity him for once. No one should have to be uncomfortable in their own body, especially to go as far as to crudely mutuality themselves. At the same time though, Liam pitied no one and therefore, didn't really deserve any pity. For all Arkit knew, Liam probably thought it was a good fun to cut his tail off if his reaction to the poison was of any indication. He laughed as soon as he realized what was happening. Not only did it seem to be that he liked to cause pain but he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was in pain. It was kind of disturbing that he was forced to help someone like that.
He laughed weakly. "It's obvious that you hate me, yet you're holding me up."
Arkit shook his head. "Do I have a choice?"
"Not really," Liam said with a chuckle. "I feel a little bit better though. Did you give me something?"
"Daevala gave me an antitoxin earlier. Apparently it's a gift from Elymas. I suppose he thought you would somehow get yourself poisoned."
"Ugh, those things take so long to work!" he whined. "What a sneaky bastard! He knew he could have sent a healer with a restore staff to deal with the poison quickly but no, he had to send an antitoxin. Those things have to catch up with the poison and then cure it... I suppose he thought he was teaching me a lesson. I refuse to be taught be him though." Liam laid himself back down, turning himself over. Somehow, Liam made that look defiant and it struck Arkit as rather childish.
He had children, he knew how they could he and he couldn't believe it took him so long to notice that sort of childish behaviour. Liam was really not right in the head at all and Arkit wondered just what he got himself into when he decided that he couldn't leave Crimea's side. There was a lack of sanity at the top.
If that was the case, then Arkit decided he had a new reason to stay with Crimea. Not only was his family at risk and his heritage at risk of being insulted, but he decided he also had to protect his soldiers. Somehow, he had to bend to the will of whoever Liam responded to and at the same time, keep causalities on his side to a minimum. If he had to be underhanded, then so be it, but someone had to be support these soldiers who were in some cases just as big of victims as the citizens were. He knew some of them acted out of line and those were mostly soldiers outside of his command, but he also saw the frightened and haunted faces of his soldiers who knew that they were probably next.
Liam suddenly forced his body up and he began walking away slowly. He had a slight limp to his gait and Arkit wondered if he had to help. He had a feeling that Liam would pass out on the road if he continued to walk. He needed to let the battle between the poison and the antitoxin settle before he worked himself like that. Arkit didn't like him but he was the only one who let them know everything they needed and was the only one who was really willing to communicate. Everything would be easier on both of them if he just let himself rest before he set off.
Suddenly, that women from before stood in front of him. "I will tell Eero of what occurred. You will stay here."
"There you go again! You can't be more powerful than me! Don't tell me what to do!"
"I am merely doing as Elymas asked of me. I will do what I can to help him and he wishes you to be safe. Rest and then return to Eero," she stated, her voice gaining a darker tone to it. Other than a new tone, there was hardly any life to her. She looked like a doll. It wasn't right. It was almost like she couldn't think on her own and Arkit doubt it wasn't because she was incapable of thought. That empty look in her eyes... perhaps some sort of spell changed her mental capacity but he had limited knowledge of magic so if he was far off, he didn't know. Something wasn't right about her and maybe that's why Liam reacted so much. He threw a punch but she caught his fist and twisted his wrist with a sicking snap.
"Fine, fine, I'll stay here and leave when these guys leave. Psycho bitch..." he muttered, sitting on the ground and playing with his wrist. Arkit was surprised. She was strangely fast and she was also strong.
Something flashed in her eyes. A sign of life. She seemed a little confused but she shook her head. "There is an extra tent and bedroll. Be safe and take care of yourself," she said. The last part made her sound kind and the darker tone from before was gone. She almost sounded like she cared. She turned and left suddenly. Arkit located the extra supplies and set it up for Liam, who simply watched him.
"Why do you do this all again?"
"You look like a child who caught the cold," Arkit muttered. "The father in me says to help, even if you're not going to take it and you don't really deserve any of it."
"You're strange. You show kindness to someone who doesn't care to show it or receive it. I would say you're wasting your time but for the time being, it works in my benefit. The kindness is going to kill ya one day though!" he said with a grin as he crawled into his tent. Arkit sighed. He didn't know what to make of him. He was cruel – a sadist and a masochist – yet he was so childish and sometimes, there was little hint of his brutal behaviour. When he was childish, he was kind of normal and Arkit was scared. He didn't want to give this person so much sympathy. He didn't deserve it.
But sometimes, he just looked so pathetic.
It's seven in the morning and I can't sleep, so I brought you the new chapter. The time skips that happened near the beginning probably won't happen again, but I felt that it was necessary to have a little bit of background to the battle. I hope that was clear enough. Also, if the description of the characters were good enough to figure out who was who, let me know and I'll stick into the author note for the next chapter.
Other than that, I feel like I lot happened in the chapter so I'll let it speak for itself.
With Arkit's chapter done, I think there's two more chapters for Kaetar and then Elli's chapter is up next.