Chapter V
As he was lead into the bedroom, Talon's eyes didn't stray from the Prophet's figure. He stood against the far wall, watching as Malzahar placed the basket of goods onto the bare bed. His curiosity was evident on his face, by the way his dark eyes were alight as he stared at the sheets that were neatly folded inside.
Before he made any further movements towards the basket, Malzahar quickly lifted the chains that once restrained Talon to the room, and dragged them towards him. Talon didn't have much say in the matter as he was soon once again lacking his brown cloak, collar removed, and chains swapped out. Normally one would be grateful for the change, considering the chains in the room granted him more freedom to move his arms, but they were also clamped around his wrist a lot tighter than the others that were used for traveling.
To say they were a tad uncomfortable would be an understatement.
"Now... can you take a guess as to what those sheets were for?" Malzahar asked, watching Talon shake his head, "Look around."
Watching the prophet's eyes carefully, Talon saw the bright pupils gesture towards the bed. Indeed, it was bare, aside from a cover sheet that swept over the mattress for protection. So, if his theory was correct...
"Bedsheets?" He asked, receiving a nod and a gleeful smile from the Seer. "We went all that way just for bedsheets?"
Talon received a small sigh, eyes not leaving the floating form as he moved over towards the bed once again, "Not just those... you are hungry as well, are you not?"
Admittedly, yes, he was quite famished. He had eaten nothing but a single loaf of nearly stale bread this morning that was rummaged from the kitchen pantry. Ever since he became a resident of this home, he had not been fed properly.
"Here."
Barely having time to react, Talon fumbled as a small package was thrown at him. Managing to catch it, he then examined the contents. Inside were two large slices of cooked meat, though he couldn't exactly identify what type of meat it was, so he was rather hesitant to consume it.
"And this meat is...?" Asked the assassin, looking towards Malzahar with a very unsure expression.
"Shurimian Scarab meat." Came the reply, only managing to baffle Talon further, "The scarabs that reside under the sands of this desert are as large as a mule. If you ever find one, you can easily crack open its shell and eat the meat that's underneath. ...After cooking it, of course, considering they have been known to carry a variety of diseases."
A small smile swept over Malzahar's lips as he turned and calmly stared at the assassin.
"Worry not, however. The meat has been checked, and it is clean. I made sure of that before I bought it. I trust it shall also suit your taste buds, considering the... odd taste it has."
Odd taste was certainly right. As Talon lifted a slice and took a bite, his mouth was filled with the taste of pork, mingling with a slight taste of... pear? Sweet, but savory at the same time.
It was good, and he soon found himself scarfing it down without thinking to offer the prophet a share.
"Delicious." Talon replied through a mouthful of food, the prophet chuckling at the muffled sound.
"Very well. I shall have to recruit him to hunt for some more scarabs in the morning... but, for now, we should focus on the matter at hand."
...Him? The assassin noticed the emphasis the Voidian put on the word. It was tempting to ask what he had meant, but upon noticing Malzahar carefully and accurately pulling the soft purple and blue sheets over the bed, he decided against it. The focused look he held didn't allow Talon to intrude.
As he finished the two slices of meat, Talon set the package down onto the sill of the only window in the room, deciding to discard it at a later date. Then, he stepped towards Malzahar, lightly running a single gloved finger over the bedsheets that now lay neatly across the small, welcoming bed. They were soft, like clouds, and he knew that they would also be very warm.
"Prophet, tell me something." Talon began, gaining the other man's attention immediately, "why do you go through so much trouble for me? If I am to be sacrificed to this... deity... as you said, and become his vessel, what point is there in taking such good care of me?"
"Your physical body shall remain the same way it was at the point of sacrifice. Any scars or abnormalities you hold will be removed, however... but, your body shall remain the same. I cannot allow you to freeze to death, and I cannot allow you to die. The dead are not able to traverse into the Void, you see, so keeping you alive and healthy is an absolute must. I am only doing so because the Void wills it - if not for that, I wouldn't have a care whether you lived or died."
"Is that so...?" In a way, disappointment held in Talon's voice upon hearing the final statement of Malzahar's speech.
He couldn't exactly place why, but he had hoped for a different answer. He had hoped for the prophet to say that he actually cared about him, considered him a friend after the weeks they had spent together, even if it was forced. Not even his mind could explain why his heart felt heavy from Malzahar's words, almost aching... this feeling was odd, and certainly not something he had felt before.
Since he and the prophet met, the assassin had felt an odd connection between the two of them. While it started out as a game of hunter and prey, it had evolved into something much different, at least to him. Were they friends? Acquaintances? Talon couldn't place his finger on what they were, or why he felt rather angered that Malzahar didn't seem to truly care about his wellbeing.
It infuriated the assassin; he felt no better than an object.
"Why are you upset?"
The sound of Malzahar's voice broke Talon from his thoughts, snapping his dark eyes to attention as he snarled and looked away towards the window.
"Upset? I'm not upset in the slightest. Don't have time for such things." Came his reply, though he had a difficult time masking the hurt that was evident in his voice. "Why should you care, though? My emotional state has nothing to do with my 'physical body'."
The words were spat in a much more venomous way than even Talon had expected. Even Malzahar blinked in surprise, crossing his arms and staring in surprise at the assassin. Neither of them had expected such venom, even the one that had spoken it.
"Such hostility, Talon... I apologize if my words have upset you, but they are the truth."
"...Honestly, screw you." The rogue growled, low and quiet enough to where he thought the prophet wouldn't hear.
Wrong he was, however.
Quickly, his chin was held in a tight grasp, head lifted and eyes locked with those of brightly glowing orbs. Unfortunately, the Seer had picked up on the quiet comment, and he was none too happy of the harsh phrase. Talon remained still, his ground held as his sharp eyes refused to falter.
"You know what? My words are true too. 'Sorry' if they upset you." Talon snarled, allowing his anger to be vocal. For once, he didn't care of the consequences. If Malzahar chose to punish him for this, then so be it.
"Assassin. What is it that you wish?" Glowing crystal orbs remained locked with darkened eyes, staring unblinking with an equal amount of force.
What it was that he wished? Not even he knew. His heart and mind were conflicted, and neither were giving a straight answer to the simple question.
"I don't know. But I am not inclined to tell you, should I arrive at an answer." Talon said in an undertone, his dark eyes darting away from the Prophet's.
"You wish to be acknowledged by me." A sudden response, a smile gracing the Seer's lips as he noticed the rogue's eyes widen in surprise. He had gotten him, once again. "You are quite easy to read, Talon. I was merely hoping you would come to such a conclusion on your own, without my guidance."
No matter which way Talon looked at it, Malzahar was correct. His feelings were begging to be acknowledged as something more than just a rat, or a vessel, to his current caretaker. To be seen as something more... be seen as a friend, perhaps it was all he truly wished for, no matter how temporary it would be.
It would at least make him feel less like a prisoner, and less alone.
If his mind were to be replaced by a greater being in a matter of days, being cherished, even if it be by the Seer, would allow him to rest easy. As easy as he could, at any rate. The thought of death still plagued his mind, and bore a heavy weight on his shoulders.
Yet... was being seen as a friend truly all he wished for?
"You are quite an interesting young assassin, I can certainly say..." Malzahar began, releasing his hold on Talon and floating back a few paces, "No wonder you have been chosen by the Void... You are strong, yet sheltered. The iron wall that is still presently concealing your heart is built high. ...Yet, your poker face is currently faltering."
Talon growled, immediately turning his back to the Prophet, only being graced by a low chuckle as he moved to stand in front of the window. The dunes outside were howling, a harsh wind blowing the air about as large birds of the night screeched overhead. Seems the two of them had made it back in a timely fashion... being outside now could bring about certain death.
"Turning your back to me will not shroud the expression that you hold, assassin..." Talon's eye twitched; his annoyance growing from the smug words. "Right now, you are weak. You are allowing your selfish desires to rule your thoughts. ...Your precious General would be ashamed if he saw you right now; his right hand reduced to a sniveling, emotional little girl."
"Shut up." Talon growled, menacing as his head turned to glance back at Malzahar, dark eyes glaring daggers underneath the veil of his hood. "Just shut up, already! Your words are doing nothing but irritating me, you insufferable Prophet!"
Since he had arrived, Talon's voice had never held so much venom – but there was a first time for everything. The other's words would not be so easily excused, especially when drawing the General's name into play. Simply mentioning him in such a negative manner left Talon furious, snarling as he whirled around and stalked towards the Seer.
"You've no right to speak of my master, nor do you have any right to look into my mind and see my thoughts!" His deep voice boomed, nearly shouting in rage as he spoke, though Malzahar didn't even so much as flinch. "Don't you get it?! When you showed such courtesy to me, I imagined, for once in my life, that someone was going out of their way to actually care for me. Despite the chains, I could accept it! Your actions earlier today made me feel like I was worth something, worth anything to someone else!"
His hands rose, digging themselves into Malzahar's scarf, pulling him closer to him so their faces were mere inches apart. The snarling assassin's eyes were sharp, and filled with nothing but anger. His eyes, in this moment, spoke more than his words ever could.
Deep brown eyes filled with hatred and sorrow; the eyes of a trained killer that had been denied the warmth and love that every human required.
"You're just like the rest of them – just like the scum that litter the streets of Noxus. You don't care, you're simply using me to further your own cause." Just like that, Talon's voice began to grow softer, hands sliding from Malzahar's scarf as his eyes stared into confused turquoise orbs. "I was a fool for thinking you would be different. That you would care for me in the time that you have kept me here, but I am no more than an 'item' to sacrifice to your precious Void..."
A silence befell the room, leaving nothing but the howling gales of the desert to break the silence. Talon's heart ached, his harsh words already being regretted by his mind. But, they needed to be said... if they had not, it would have left the assassin bitter and cold towards the other male.
Not that he wasn't already.
"Assassin- ...No, Talon." Malzahar began, his glowing eyes lowering in a calming look, gloved hand gently grasping onto Talon's. The Rogue's hands were cold, chilled, just like the air in the room. "Do you wish for me to genuinely care about you? As though we are... 'friends'?"
Such a strange question, one that made Talon scoff. "...It would not be genuine if it is forced. Have you not had friends before, Malzahar?"
Silence was his only answer, eliciting a sigh from the assassin as his head lowered to stare at the ground.
"...Nevermind. Just forget I even spoke."
With that, Talon moved away from the Seer. He lay down on the bed, reveling in the softness of the cotton sheets; he was grateful for them, but couldn't bring himself to voice his gratitude at the current time. The Rogue's body shuddered as he felt the ethereal eyes still watching him, gazing at him as he lay comfortably on the bed. It was a little unsettling, but he forced his mind to ignore it as his eyes fell shut and a content sigh escaped his chapped lips.
"...Good night."
The quiet murmur caused Talon's eyes to open halfway in surprise. As he shifted to look at the foot of the bed where he had left the Prophet previously, an even greater shock befell him. The room was empty, and Malzahar was once again nowhere to be found; it was as if he had vanished as soon as he spoke the friendly words towards the blade.
A sigh and a huff was all that Talon managed as he lay back down, slipping himself underneath the warm sheets and once again shutting his eyes. The friendliness of the other was unnecessary, and felt odd considering their previous conversation, but... Talon welcomed it. In a strange sense, he welcomed and embraced the friendliness of Malzahar, even if his reasoning for requiring it may be... odd to the Prophet.
Before slumber took him, his voice hesitantly murmured to the thin air around him.
"...Good night, Prophet..."