Singing waves crashed against the shifting hull, resilient wood groaning through the rush of a silent, aquatic night across the ocean. Far above, hanging from the thread of space, did the great celestial moon slumber in the mattress of stars; whimsical in its everlasting watch. And ever so far below - where its gleaming rays were to purvey the night - was another watcher that dwelled so deep in the dark. Onyx mane twirling in the bristling gales, voided amber glared down into the golden glint settled into her blighted palm: an ornate comb unmoving against the roughness of her marred skin. Even as she let her vision fall into the depths from leaning over the stern; the grip remained steadfast and firm, unable for even the mind to consider letting it sail away and smother its immortal shine.
Velvet stood empty in that starlit night, as if the chilling breeze was brushed off by fortress walls and its biting wind rendered useless, while the daemon felt her thoughts spill out again and again. The journey had only just began, and already had their group been pulled apart by one, with the assault of violent dangers and growing hostilities all that remained upon the horizon: Velvet could not deny the new pit of emotion burrowed into her gut from their lost ally and what had transpired in his moment of sacrifice.
One of sickly remembrance, only spurred on by the humane actions he always took; Velvet wanted to reach for that ember she had torn away from her, the one Sarid still kept. Humanity. But nonetheless, a body writhing with unbridled vengeance could not accept it, and as the thudding of steps against boards behind resounded, the daemon inside stamped out that vulnerability once again.
She knew immediately who awaited attention, the soft patter gave it away, in addition to the hum of hunger that itched the back of her subconscious. "...Velvet?" Number Two tried again to call out, the inherent oceanic chill ruffling his youthful skin. Inside, the daemon hated looking past those blonde golden locks, yet the village girl could not ignore his familiar voice no matter the pain it would do. So, all Velvet would bear, was the minute motion of her head turning to the boy: only allowing the flow of bangs to signal her focus on him. The hinting clink of metal, as if steel tilted onto steel, told of what sat in his comparably small hands. A sigh of shame, then two words she did not expect. "...I'm sorry," the young malak whispered in sorrow.
Velvet's back straightened, and eyebrows narrowed sternly, she turned on her heel to finally face away from the ship's gradual wake to see Number Two's head lowered to the ground. His gilded orbs of green did not rise to meet the hallowed gaze, staring deeply into the compass sat upon his palms. And so, with a huff of contempt, she kneeled to meet his sight with that reoccurring firmness. "If it's that important to you, keep it safe. You wouldn't want to lose it again," the daemon 'softly' relayed, attempting to calm his fearful regret of what had happened. Even still, she could catch the hesitation in those viridescent spheres, and proceeded to pull her gaze up and catch the sharp shape of the Reaper lent at the wheel side.
"And..." the boy began with a heavy heart, "I'm sorry about Sarid." The daemon bit her tongue, and allowed her eyelids to snap closed with a deliberating pause.
Inwardly, she had wondered and wished the half-malak had vanished without a trace, his lasting presence already procuring a slight shift within the group dynamic. However, Velvet couldn't disgrace his deed at the fortress, and only let a hefty word slip through tight lips. "Don't," she ordered with a shake of her head; crossing arms to accent the hard expression and deny the effect the man had wrought. The sooner he was forgotten, the better. "It was his choice," she eventually continued, "No one's fault but his." Number Two's mood did not change, but the self-doubt and mild loathing was lessened by her reaffirming words.
However, soon was the quiet moment disrupted by a heavier collection of creaking upon the ship planks across the stern, and the conversing duo noticed their new arrivals stepping up to have finally caught Velvet out of her brooding state. A billow of the sunset's flapping colours upon cloth, and the fantastical prancing of a jester up and over the stairway revealed the rest of their allies had decided to join them. Even Eizen had now stepped forward in the encompassing shadow with a snap of his fingers; setting a lantern alight to cut through the dark. "Wowzers! Seems the kid's special after all!" The first to shatter the silence was the ever outgoing and bombastic Magilou, having her mischievous grin aglow in the emerging light. "I never thought you would get out of your little brooding state, Miss Daemon-muncher..."
Unsurprisingly, the cackles of the colourful witch had brightened the ship far better than the lamp ever could, yet only succeeded in lighting a fuse on the party's patience for the discussion ahead. However, the samurai began next in order to dissuade the growing growls that seemed to emanate from their now standing wolf. "I will say, what a battle! Truly a shame about Sarid, but oh well, I figured humans would never get too far unfortunately." Rokurou stepped close, the yaksha inside still billowing with adrenaline at their siege, but no less regretful over the supposed loss of a valuable ally. Nevertheless, his hungry grin still burned fierce, only fuelled by another fallen soul he was taking a liking to. "So, next stop is Loegres, right?" he suggested with a hand upon his chin in thought at their next - even grander - target.
As a collective, the group nodded to affirm the choice, and Eizen neared the boy with an outstretched hand and a stern focus on the great journey to the Empire's Jewel. "Give it," he ordered without hesitation, the boy turning with the archaic yet gold compass he clung so tightly to, "I need to set a course." And still, Number Two snapped his head back with stubborn denial of that of a child. Grumbling at the refusal, the pirate didn't bother to push it, and sank back to another option; hiding the humorous smirk that bit through the persona. "Fine. You read it for me then."
Number Two's widened globes of a glistening verdant shone with with joy at the compromise, confidant in newfound independence to manage such an important task. "Yeah!" the boy accepted, smiling contagiously from ear to ear.
"But listen, kid," Eizen began with crossed arms to affirm is stern tone. "Give me one false reading, and you're shark bait." In shock, the malak stepped back with a yelp at the pressure of responsibility, and that once smoky, anguished voice hummed at his side with the sprinkled inklings of humour.
"Better work hard," Velvet softly affirmed; care piercing like sunbeams through that of a cracked wall.
Number Two turned to face the daemon that had wrenched him from the grasp of isolation, and a particular memory sprouted from the forefront of his mind, her primal and desperate shout still echoing in those innocent green eyes. With childlike ignorance, the boy pulled his question up to the face of someone who's gentleness was oh so rare and valuable. "Um... What's Laphicet?"
Velvet could feel her blighted heart freeze.
"Arthur, save us!"
"Velvet!"
"LAPHICET!"
"How could you..."
A shaky breath, and tensed fists behind a moment of self-contempt belied the innocent look with those terribly, indistinguishable eyes. A moment of stillness, and she recollected what she was in that moment. Cold and bitter, was the melody her heart beat to once again. "...It's a name. Your name." Vacant orbs, retreated of light, held the malak's unknowing look; irrefutable.
Number Two's mouth hung open, the dawn of realisation overcoming his features despite the cape of darkness cast over the world. "My... My name?" The word trailed on his tongue for a long while few heavy moments. "Laphicet."
"It's a fine name," Rokurou admitted with hoisted arms at his side, grinning at the newly indoctrinated malak of his identity.
"Well, it's no Magilou."
"We're long through the channel. Give us a course, Laphicet!"
With the rallying shout of the Reaper sending the gales of confidence into the boy's sails, Laphicet nodded with bright, beaming smile. "Aye-aye, sir!" Jumping up, the young and joyful malak turned to face the grand bow of the Van Eltia, raising his hand to point along the seamless deck to gesture at the brimming horizon of crashing waves. "We're heading straight for Loegres!"
~~~
Gemstones twinkling in the great dark, was the blanket of night that soared above. Guards to the stained celestial body that overlooked their corrupted world, with the flooding plumes of gathering clouds far below: dark smog with the rumbles of fearsome thunder soon to arc upon the once calm and steady horizon. And upon rocking waves of roaring waters, did the infamous Van Eltia soar; a bird of prey to the ever expansive ocean. Onboard, the deck was ghostly and silent, the sharp bow splitting the swirling currents with ease while the crew rested soundly in comfortable quarters. Even the Captain's wheel was left unmanned, confident the ship would stay dead on course towards the incredible exorcist Capital. However, the creaking boards and rolling depths below did nothing to stir the one who never left the deck unwatched.
As dregs of the imminent torrent rapped against the resilient wood, the formidable roar across the smothered skies swayed the silent daemon resting at the stern, her flowing mane matted across soaked boards and back to the short maroon walls erected at the sides. Velvet creaked her leant head up from a bent knee, unfolding firm arms from around the lone position known for 3 whole years. The shredded onyx jacket flapped in shearing winds as she stood against the gales; a resolute routine performed against her will of many sleepless nights. And yet, that golden glare never wore heavy as she scowled down at the brewing storm surrounding the headstrong ship in the wallowing sea.
Velvet paid no mind to the steady increasing barrage attacking her figure, the chilly droplets of the crying rain nothing in the face of what burden was bore. But, it did not matter, when that familiar shimmer of hopeful white cloth darted across and through curtains of firing sprays. "Velvet!" The woman winced inwardly, as his innocent face became full in the filter of spilling rain and fogged weather, "Come inside, it's way too cold and wet out here!" Laphicet stated with mildly pleading eyes under quickly soaked strands of blonde.
Paying no mind, the daemon waved off the boy with a flick of her hand, directing attention to the everlasting deep below once again. "I'm fine. I need to watch the wheel anyway," she dismissed with a blank stare through the droplets seeping from winged bangs. With another howl that rumbled the unshakeable world, the voluminous hair swayed and flailed in its dangerous blow; the faultless texture under layers of water evident to the kind emerald irises.
She could hear him step closer. "But, your hair is really nice, you wouldn't want to ruin it-." And that was it, as those similar words came from that voice, with that face, Velvet didn't want another word of it for the night.
The daemon could feel the sneer etch itself onto her face, and without turning to the boy, she relayed calm yet cold words to cut this conversation to a close. "I said, I am fine," she growled. However, that rush of tension came as fast as it left, and the softess returned with a hint of vile bitterness slipping into the tone at her very own actions. "...Laphicet..." the woman regretfully began with a tired sigh. "Go get some rest. I mean it." Velvet didn't spare another glance to his retreating form that waded through the battering storm.
Another cacophony of thunder wracked the sky, a choir of destructive natural force, casting vibrant hues to erupt across encompassing clouds above. Reverberating screams of striking whites and crackling blues raging along and gouging the wrathful waves. Nevertheless, the daemon's eyes didn't shift from the rows of lightning that spooled over this ocean, until something flashed across the roars of nature; a new glow to mingle with that of the rallying electricity. A golden bolt, flashing just from the very corners of her acute vision. She waited. She waited for what felt like hours in the meaningless haze, yet only minutes flowed by in the disruptive droplets rattling the deck. And at last, she could feel it once again, that visceral pull of hunger. Velvet sighed, a simple gesture of a thousand words once she recognised who specifically had arrived. Or, more accurately, had come back. "Took you long enough."
"...You should get inside, that storm looks pretty dangerous."
That cool, mildly accented voice was clear as moonlight in the roaring darkness.
"I am dangerous, to you. Why did you come back, Sarid?"
Thud
Silence. Even as the carnal rage of the weather waged all around, she could catch the barely audible creak of boots landing upon boards, and a reflective sigh creep out from the figure that had landed at the stern; presumably watching from the swaying mast above. "If you want to talk, then let's just do that out of the storm..." the returning half-malak requested; a tired weight beginning to tug on the trails of his voice.
Rapid taps were scoring the very wood she led against, a lone, bandaged finger decorating the side with small craters while the mere presence of the man being near began to itch at a side reserved only for battle. Something was different, and it only pulled at her irritation even more. Eventually, the silence became ridiculous for her to bear, and she turned against the tide of assaulting weather, letting the winds wash away the shuttered sight and sweep her coat violently at her back; hair flailing in tandem. Velvet could feel the storm slam into her front, skirting over soaked skin while barely trying to blink away the unyielding barrage, and focused solely on the bringer of her indecision. "...What did you do?" she spat lowly: lidded eyes of aurous staring into him with an emotion he had yet to decipher.
A sigh. "Went for a little swim and woke up in wonderland..." His arms rose in a shrug, the pointed targets of ire clear in the storming haze. His brows narrowed, and the weary look turned sharp. "Seems everybody is after my secrets."
It was a contrast to her enveloping coat of darkness, just as torn and crude as the one who wears it, and the trail she leaves in her destructive and lifeless wake. This long haori adorned by the corrupted paladin once of peace and unity, still relays that solemn yet kind man he remains through its crisp white and golden accents; a symbol akin to that of his lightning. And yet, underneath this pristine jacket of change and resilience, were trails of distinct autumn under its cleanly white; crimson, akin to that of newly kindled fire and the blood spilled to retain it.
Sarid still kept the mildly charred slim grey tunic and lower black attire of his old outfit; holding tight onto the pieces that symbolised this harsh new path. However, the headband he wore so often was nowhere to be seen, and the only accessory that stayed above, was a silver necklace: the glinting ring it held so tight, dangling from around the neck.
His grip was firm on the scabbard, holstered at a belt wound around his jacketed waist, staying the tail to its lonesome flapping while the rest sat barely disturbed. A hand opposite rested casually atop the silver buckle.
Despite this drastic change in attire, Velvet did not care for random clothing he now has or discarded, what did catch her attention was the striking amethyst that now lay in place of those once innocent blues. Confident, unwavering and resilient; like that of a sudden bolt in the clearest day, yet understanding, calm and human; eyes of which could sooth that of a frightened child. And lastly, was one change that would bubble confusion in her mind even if it was explained to the fullest. Oriental, amber forearms which appeared so artistic they could have been tattoos, if not for the claw-like nails that had become of his once completely normal hands. Distinct, and draconic.
The aureate crest etched at the coat's side seemed to bore into - and through her.
Storm raging ever fiercer, slathering the deck in a thin layer of pooling water that surrounded their footwear. Slowly, the daemon stood up straight and fastened her posture, a sign Sarid would soon begin to recognise, before Velvet narrowed her eyes dangerously; tension welling up in the thunderous atmosphere. "...Explain." Her voice sparked with threatening anguish, almost predatorial growls rumbling from her throat while the half-malak retained his composure.
"I will-"
"Now."
"Oh Empyrean's above-I will later," he breathed with a hint of annoyance, but deep down the man could understand her sudden spike in caution. Sarid began to take a few steps off to the side, attempting to de-escalate the situation and push his point across. "It would be better for me to explain to the group I assume is still alive, now let me past-".
Shing!
However, with a strike of lightning that hammered into the ocean surface, did Velvet draw her wrist-blade in a split-second; raising its edge to the half-malak's throat and catching him frozen in his tracks. Drops of chilling rain steadily cascaded from the blade's cleanly edge, the reflection of the suspecting moon above resting deep in its shining surface, as Sarid dared to only breath carefully with the lick of fresh steel splayed at his vulnerable neck. Velvet did not let a hint of her reasoning slip, choosing only to let her glare grind across the metal and puncture the man just as well as any weapon. It was a deadlock in the dead of night, and the tension only arose akin to waves as Sarid refused to back down at her show of power. "I would prefer not to eat you at the moment, but you are giving me reason to change my mind," she stated resentfully, still silently demanding an acceptable answer.
"I'm not really in the mood to fight with you, Velvet," he eventually admitted with his own scornful frown, grimacing at their seemingly natural confrontations. Even still, her steadfast grip in the roars of the storm refused to waver even slightly, the golden glare of disdain only heightening in severity at his constant refusal.
"Would you?" she darkly asked, body language daring for the half-malak to eventually raise his own weapon against her. All she needed was a single excuse. And yet, the man did not directly respond to test her, but nevertheless the slight narrow in his lavender orbs told the woman enough of what he would do. So, Velvet couldn't stop the dry chuckle from slipping out of a humourless expression. "Interesting," the daemon remarked still with her fierce look, and Sarid finally understood.
"...You want me to fight back-oh, of course you do..."
Velvet's face did not change. The swirling storm howled.
"Will you run again?"