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Something rankled within Erebos, pulsed and presided deep in the throngs of all the valor and gallantry he’d managed to build up, as Ampere spoke of attacks and assaults on Aithniel, the Sun God’s daughter, the kin they’d protected and comforted, then watched as she abandoned them in turn. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes or pin his ears back at the ridiculous revelations and lies - because he’d been there, had been the tiny little prince with the wide, eager eyes and the fervent rush to protect. It’d been the first time he’d ever set his gaze upon her, and she’d been beautiful, a sight to behold, ivory and fire, and he’d sworn to be her friend, even eons after, when she’d disappeared then flickered back to life, without them, sending her devotion elsewhere, indifferent, nonchalant, tearing them apart in her own deceitful way. Perhaps he hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t realized her capabilities, hadn’t even begun to believe she’d sunder the world she’d once lived within – but he was a loyal, steady, stalwart fiend, and maybe she just didn’t care about them anymore.
For an instant, his jaw clenched again, a vicious frustration rolling over his jaw, wondering why they gave a damn now and not ages before, why the world continued to unearth things he had no control over, why they barged in and craved information when no one else from their chilling world had done the same to them – they never asked why or how Gaucho had come to be possessed by the Moon Goddess, why she’d used his body to murder; drudging up old wounds again and again. This wasn’t looking ahead, but back, far, far back into the edges of the crumbling generation and the fledgling pieces turned chiseled and bestial before their very eyes – he didn’t dare look at Rikyn, for the prince was sure his eyes, his stare, would give him away. He breathed, forced himself into composure, into steel and fortitude, into might, and blended the veracity from his own experiences directly into the void – gaze never faltering from the dune sovereigns. “They’re gone.” Zikar-Sin had long since disappeared, vanished into the abyss like so many others before him, a Haruspex who’d clung to otherworldly beliefs (that their wings were murderous weapons, that heathens lay in their fiendish feathers). If there had been any others, he was uncertain to their whereabouts, the lies and pretenses muddled in between. His voice, calm and steady, lacquered with nobility and regal stature, continued, polishing over the days of youth and mishaps. “I was there. She was never attacked or tortured. I made sure of it.” How many other lies and embellishments had she extended into the sand? How many other times had she thought of them: Rikyn, Erebos, her family, and not given a damn, pushing them into the muck and murk for no reason at all? He couldn’t fathom it. He couldn’t comprehend it. “I see she failed to mention that,” he muttered, brows briefly narrowed, trying not to pulse in an incensed, ruffled conviction. He’d been nothing to her too, then. Not even worth an allusion in her half-baked truths and deceptions.
The General fell into silence thereafter, stewing, brooding, in his stony-faced features, any evidence of a smile fleeting and ghostlike - tossed aside just like he’d been. He listened here and there, perking at Wessex’s suggestion, pondering why he hadn’t thought of it (perhaps he was unfit there too, and here Orsino hissed something vile). “Sparring would be beneficial to everyone. I can discuss it with my soldiers and have them meet up with yours,” he nodded, only perking his ears again when Ampere twisted his adventures and sojourns back upon him. He could only shrug, casual, wondering why everyone was always in such a world of disbelief. There’d been no trickery or cunning behind his knowledge sharing, and still, they doubted. Maybe they’d just experienced too many snares and traps, too many lies in oaths, too many falsifications in creeds. But the youth kept his tone light, reminding them of the time within the Marsh, where fallen Gods had suddenly been reborn into a harsher, more unrelenting piece of persecution. “It was eerily similar to the bone monster’s sudden existence.”
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[O] Fire and Ice [AB DT relationship]
