"If you kneel to me, I will let you out." Le'garde has his hands spread wide; new left arm a sickly yellow where the bonesaw had cut him open. Cahara is pretty sure he could count every one of this man's ribs from across the void if he weren't so violently opposed to looking at him at all. Le'garde seems to have forgotten how to blink.
The girl is trembling. He's neglected his shield in favour of holding her hand, a stupid decision made hours ago that's probably going to get them both killed now. He gives her a gentle nudge and the trembling stops slightly; the mercenary is perceptive, he doesn't miss the way the girl moves closer to him. He also doesn't miss the way Le'garde watches them both - like a cunt.
He's waiting for an answer.
D'arce looks like she's about to fall over; there's a haze in her eyes and she's leaning on her sword. Cahara briefly admires the heroic effort it must take for her to remain standing at all.
The mercenary burns with indignation that feels like righteousness. "What's your plan?" His voice is surprisingly level, given the circumstances. "There's nothing to find down here but more monsters."
"I don't expect you to understand."
That wasn't an answer.
Cahara pointedly doesn't respond until he continues: "Le'garde the mortal has already fulfilled his duties. All that remains is for me to bring humanity into a new age - anything beyond that is none of your concern."
Self-righteous prick. Cahara has half a mind to tell him as much: but for all his claims of unconditional love, the new Le'garde is clearly reaching the ends of his patience. The girl clings tighter to his arm, head turned away from the conversation like she's trying to drown it out.
(Cahara never had much pride to swallow anyway)
He holds his tongue.
Kneeling is easy. One moment they're staring at each other across the void and the next - he's back at the dungeon entrance. A short gasp fills him with relief, the girl is still with him. D'arce is here as well, a little off to the side and hunched over, but alive. Le'garde is nowhere to be seen.
He slumps, groaning. Cahara's exhaustion has caught up to him and the idea of moving feels like a monumental effort. He does it anyway when the girl sits next to him; reaching up a little to ruffle her hair. "You did great, I'm proud of you."
She says nothing and Cahara supposes he can't fault her for that. Her little smile is enough to prove he's at least doing something right.
D'arce is sobbing. She's quiet: it takes him a minute to notice and a minute more to do anything about it. Cahara hauls himself to his feet, then just stands there. The knight is sat in the grass with her head in her hands and he doesn't really know what to do about that.
"You uh, alright?" Stupid question.
"No."
Great, neither is he. Cahara half-falls, half-sits down next to her. He has a bit of whisky left in his bag and he offers it to the knight. D'arce bats it away with one hand and glares at him - "Is that your solution to everything?"
Cahara shrugs, "Most things."
He takes a sip himself and lets it burn in his throat. D'arce has an expression that feels a little unfair given the circumstances. He's just trying to help. He tells her as much and she deflates, staring at the ground.
"That can't have been Captain Le'garde. The void must have done something to him."
"Really?" Cahara takes another drink. Dimly, he's aware he should let D'arce think what she likes, but he's frustrated - he's frustrated and angry and he's been making the good, 'correct' decisions all day and look where it's got him. "I'm pretty sure your Captain was a bit of a cunt long before he sat on that throne."
"You don't-" the knight bristles.
"I mean," Cahara continues, interrupting her: "men who've had their whole lives beaten out of them don't remember long words like amnesia. I figured he just didn't want to talk about his past, but then you showed up all worried and he kept at it? Dick move."
"He had bigger concerns than my peace of mind."
"He didn't care! He still doesn't. You followed him into hell and he didn't even have the decency to tell you why."
D'arce looks appalled, then angry. After a while her face goes carefully blank. "I'm useless to him then, is that it? Not to be trusted?"
"Look, I'm just saying you deserve better than that." Cahara sighs, suddenly awkward. "He betrayed me, but he betrayed you more - you actually gave a shit you know?"
"I still give a shit." D'arce frowns and brings her knees up to her chest. "This is all I've ever lived for."
He doesn't really have an answer for that.
The mercenary stands and dusts himself off. The sun is setting and all else aside the dungeon gates are the last place he wants to be after dark.
"I'm going home and the kid's coming with me, you're welcome to join us if you want."
The knight doesn't respond.
"My wife does a great stew; there might even be bread that isn't blue around the edges."
D'arce shifts a little to look up at him like he's said something insane. It's a step forward. "I can't just leave." She says after a moment, more to herself than him.
"You can always come back. Hell, if your boyfriend really is a god he can stand to wait a couple of days while you get some sleep." Cahara holds out a hand.
He's surprised by how much relief he feels when she takes it.
D'arce stands with some difficulty. She looks back at the dungeon and Cahara is almost afraid she'll leave anyway. It's a strained minute of staring before she abruptly turns on her heel and starts walking the long path toward civilization.
