déodat,Restored, he had been restored to the truth of his mission. He felt as though Illynx was meant to be his guiding light, the beacon in which led him back to the Basin, to his plight. He had met a skull-faced girl called Confutatis and she had somehow led him astray but now that her hazy grip had been lifted from his mind, he felt free and much more like himself. In part, he would have to plead the fifth because he did not know what had corrupted him while in her presence but he was glad to admit that he had been returned to the safety of the Basin’s cold clutches of superiority. He was dignified, empowered by the cause that had once pushed him to join their ranks. Pegasi and Equine alike were inferior and he was ashamed to admit that he had ever been convinced to think otherwise. They had ruined his family, destroyed the Nobleclan and brought him so much pain that he could hardly bear to remember it.
The past had shaped him and now it was a solid reminder of exactly who he was.
“This ice knows nothing of my intent then, for it is hardly honorable.” His words were followed by a lazy grin that indicated his comfort with her representation of authority. Though he did not trust her completely, Illynx had encouraged a sense of belonging in the bloodied stallion. She was part of the Basin, part of his family and while he wanted nothing more than to deign her commendable, that was something that took time and effort on her part.
Déodat wondered what compelled her to lead the Unicorns of the Basin or what hidden secrets had made think ill of those unlike her. She had certainly been able to prove herself upon the grounds of war if she had been blessed with the title of Corporal, but it would take a little more than position and title to convince the veteran of her rightful standing. He would need proof as illegitimate as it might be. “I don’t believe in this warmth you speak of Corporal… The cold is just as much a part of me as it is these icy caverns.” He did not speak out irrationally, but instead with the utmost truth- at least as much truth as he deemed appropriate in this particular circumstance. He was not a warm-hearted creature and he would be damned if anyone thought to be foolish enough to forget it.’
The soldier watched her shift and squirm under his gaze- was it possible that he had made her uncomfortable beside him? Either way, he remained drawn alongside the crystalline wall of ice, content to keep a fair distance from the mare. Had she been any more affected, he might have left but for the sake of entertainment he stayed. Perhaps he thought her weak for her discomfort, but maybe he had simply taken her by storm and given her much more to consider outside of her usual prison within herself.
In any case, it would have given her good reason to exchange the topic of conversation for something less primitive and more philosophical (not that Déodat minded). He was an intellectual creature when he wanted to be, seeing that war was not often a priority for a herd that dwarfed literally every other opposing herd land in Helovia. “So you believe us to be ice…” He is inquisitive and perhaps a little amused by her use of comparison but he is eager to see what point she is trying to make through such tentative evaluation. He wonders why ice would ever be used to describe such power and brilliance, but he listens all the same. He wants to understand her, better yet come to know her if he is to serve her without question and trust her without restriction.
“If I must choose between one or the other, I would believe that I am ice Corporal. I have not come to the Basin in order to waste away like rotting flesh- surely you can see that. I have not endured the painful memories of my past only to sit blindly before you like some pup waiting for a bone… I am a soldier because of my ability, because of my strength… I would hope that you do not feel the need to question that.” His words ended on a slight hiss as his eyes gleamed with a hurt akin to betrayal. Surely to the Gods she had not questioned his loyalty, his ardor for their mission. With that he swung his immaculate tail to-and-fro like a snake waiting to attack. She had angered him yes, but he was in no position to test her patience.
He clicked a sculpted hoof upon the glass floor and as it rang out against the long tunnels of their eminent demise, he wondered if she had been right on the target by pressing him for such answers. Thoughts of Confutatis came to mind and suddenly he was more than adamant about ridding himself of her memory. She would be the death of him if he wasn’t prepared to annihilate her from his life entirely… He had been taught much better than that. |
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[O] the land of ice and stone; [Deodat]
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