Eizen "The Reaper"

@whxrlwxnd

He had been putting this off far too long, Edna was resting now. Safe, but he and Zavied were far from done. This was in their nature, things wouldn’t feel right until they really did something about it. He wouldn’t feel right until he said what was on his mind, and as much as he wouldn’t like it- hear what was on Zavied’s.

It’s late, the red lights of this district giving off a pale glow as he pulls out his cell-phone and types.

[To:] Zavied, oathbreaker [From]: Eizen, The Reaper

Where had he vanished to…?!

Azazel scowled as he frantically searched the crowds milling about around him, slipping easily past some groups, pushing more forcefully through over throngs–whatever allowed him to move forward more than a few steps.

Where could Lucifer have gone…? He’d been standing right next to him just a few minutes ago–maybe even less than that–yet the second Azazel had turned his back, he’d up and disappeared. How was that even possible…?! He didn’t even have his wings! How far could a wingless seraphim have gotten in a place so densely packed with people as this?!

“… Tch…!”

This hadn’t been the plan. He hadn’t intended to be out for more than an hour or two, yet here he was, scrambling from one end of the festival to the other like a panicked parent searching for their lost child. Ugh… Was it even worth searching this area? It was quieter and less crowded, which was a relief for him, but a simple look around was enough to tell him that Lucifer wasn’t–

“How’s it going, demon?”

A hand landed on his back, a little too close to a still-healing injury, and Azazel wrenched away before pivoting towards his “assailant”: a tall blonde human man decked out in yukata, much like the rest of the festival attendees. The fallen angel didn’t recognize him in the slightest. 

“Do I look like I give a damn about ‘people’s moods’?” Azazel snapped, already brushing past the stranger back towards the main hub of the festival. Humans and their ridiculous penchant for nosiness…to say nothing of their poor timing! 

“I don’t have time for this. Stop talking and stay out of my way.”

Did he look like he gave a damn about people’s moods? No, not really to be fair, typically Eizen wouldn’t either- but something was clearly rubbing him the wrong way.

As the non-demon walks by, almost bumping into him Eizen instinctively reaches out, grabbing hold of his arm. Why did he care? This wasn’t his business really, was it? Yet, this festival, the happiness brought by it.. . Something about the lack of respect for the other people there sets him off.

He squeezes the arm, turning the person towards himself somewhat roughly. He had good muscle mass- probably a fighter of some kind. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that though.. . Again.

“You don’t have time for this? Look, dude. I don’t know who you think you are or what gives you the right to think you’re not allowed to care about other people’s moods but I’m not gonna let something like that slide.”

The earth spirit is glaring now. He wasn’t sure who this clown was but they were going to stop.

“Were you here for any of that destruction- how many people were injured during that fight while the city was rebuilding? These people just want to have a good time, it’s pretty hard when you got a big ball of gloom and doom standing right behind you. I don’t know what’s got you in such a hurry but I doubt it’s anything good- the way you’re acting is pretty suspicious you know. What exactly are you looking for?”

Lucifer’s fist met its mark, sending the man careening towards the back of the bar. Though there had been enough strength behind the blow to knock a normal mortal out, the man merely came out of the hit with a stumble and a bit of blood. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed; the man was intent on fighting him, but was also content with taking a drink? When Lucifer was standing right there?

“…?”

Had Lucifer felt anything when he punched the man? It was a strange question. Lucifer had only ever fought for the sake of protecting, to end conflict before any lasting damage could be dealt. Indeed, Lucifer’s presence on the battlefield had always signified a swift end to enemies of the skies, and though that was hardly a case with the loss of his wings (as indicated by the fact that he had not, in fact, been able to end this conflict with the man already), he still approached battle as he always had.

Mechanical. Simply something he was created to do–something he was a means to an end to use for.

“What do you mean? I merely struck back in retaliation. I’ve no reason to–”

–before the bottle the man had been drinking from came sailing at his face. Lucifer tilted ever so slightly and it crashed into the floor behind him, but then–the floor suddenly gave way under him. Rather, it wasn’t so much that it had collapsed under his weight, but a loosened board lifted Lucifer off his feet for a split second, and he stumbled forward. 

“…!”

The man rounded on him once more, and Lucifer just barely managed to catch his balance, ready to intercept the punch that was aimed at him…but it never came. At least, not when Lucifer expected it. The man slammed into his abdomen, sending Lucifer flying back again and crashing onto the floor. That…had knocked the wind out of him, leaving Lucifer coughing painfully as he slowly rose to his feet again, his head lowered as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

“…..”

Fighting for the sake of it… Lucifer had never considered that. Then again, he had rarely ever considered anything other than the role he had been born into. But no matter what Lucifer’s intentions were, the man probably wouldn’t stop until one of them could no longer stand. And if Lucifer simply fled, the man would only hurt more people…

With barely any indication of the heavy hits he had just taken, Lucifer lunged at the man again. He threw another punch–and if that didn’t land, he would simply pivot on his heel, and his other leg swung in a wide arc for a devastating kick sent towards his opponent.

Again Eizen will take his stance, cerulean eyes locked onto the other- turned so his left hand is behind his back. Something changed, ever so slightly in the man’s movements. He was a little more aggressive, it felt like there was a little more purpose in his attack.

Another punch, quick like the first one but he sees it coming- no need to take the hit- he feels wind brush against his cheek as the hand flies by. He’s ready to move forward, attack in-between movements but the pretty boy is admittedly quick- possibly quicker than him. Already turning into a kick.

 . . . !

He moves his right arm to his chest- for all the good it does the attack still sends him tumbling back. He was more sure of it now, this guy, whoever he was- wasn’t human. The way he moved, how fast he could react to things.

He didn’t feel malevolence off of them though. Not a demon, he couldn’t sense a dominion- not a spirit?

He shakes his arm a few times- a bruise and welt already starting to form. Having his powers taken away was getting more annoying every day. If he had any of his artes available to him- any of them he might stand a chance.

“What are you? A human can’t take hits like that from me and keep going.” It’s direct, straightforward- as he always is. “You’re not a demon either. . . . Nor a Malakhim.”

His curiosity was starting to get piqued, there were all kinds of people in this city but . . . “Locked away from everyone else . . . That what you said?” What did that make him? “Some kind of god or something?” He grabs hold of the table split apart by his earlier attack. “After I knock you out maybe I’ll listen to your story but first- let’s see if your first for the Reaper’s company.” 

Festivals and parties are far from the reaper’s top priority and yet . . . He seemed to run into it no matter where he went. Well you could only fight fate for so long when you had luck like his.

If nothing else at least it gave him an excuse to wear some summer clothes. Most people seemed in high spirits which was a welcome change considering . . . Everything. He had slowly been recovering since that incident- albeit he’s still avoiding risky parts of town for now. He knows there’s far too much malevolence in him currently.

Another fellow seemed to be trying to avoid the festivities too, white hair . . . Horns. . . . He had learned his lesson though this man probably wasn’t a demon. No need to go and knock the wind out of him- albeit he did look somewhat . . . Grumpy. Typically it’s not his business to get involved with others but even Eizen knows sometimes you gotta make the happiness come out.

“My words are ‘weak,’ you say…?”

The mans words offered no explanation in the way of his unprovoked hostility, leaving Lucifer confused still–though it didn’t show on his face. To understand how the man felt, he had to know his pain…? His fists…? Lucifer was already very lacking in emotional comprehension, but this was certainly a huge deviation from anything he had ever known.

He continued to watch the blond blankly, expression unchanging, though his eyes instinctively followed the gold coin into the air–

“–!!”

–as the man successfully drew his vision up and away from his preemptive strike. Sharp pain shot through his foot, the man had stomped on it hard, and Lucifer stumbled. Another fist followed and slammed into his side, the force of it sending the primarch crashing through a table. But rather than the dizzying pain now throbbing in his ribs, Lucifer could only dwell on the fact that he still didn’t understand a thing about the man’s intentions. 

One thing was certain, though. Lucifer had given the man the chance to re-consider, but he hadn’t. Lucifer would show no mercy either. 

(Perhaps he would understand too, if he also played the part of the aggressor and traded blows with the man. Living was about the learning experience, wasn’t it?)

In one fluid motion, Lucifer grabbed hold of the overturned table and flung it at the man. Whether it met its mark or not didn’t matter–the real attack came in the form of Lucifer’s fist, flying at the man at lightning speed.

“That’s right. Weak.”

He’s about to take a step towards the other, that connected hit felt pretty good at least. So this guy was quick but not infallible. Holding out his hand he catches the coin just as it passes down near his waist. Putting the precious vessel back in his coat.

“Now . . . !”

He immediately takes his fighting stance, as the table flies at him- a natural reaction even if he can’t use any of his artes- well almost any of them. His left hand flies out hitting the table dead in the center- it cracks straight down the middle- now in two pieces flying behind him.

His eyes move back to where the man was- WAS. Again he scans the area quick and he just barely sees it, a fist flying at him.

“Shi-”

It connects, and despite seeing his strength previously it still surprises him. A clean hit throwing him back to the bar, a slight stumble before he regains his balance. He can taste a little blood in his mouth, quickly spitting the excess to the side.

He wasn’t joking when he was talking before- sometimes exchanging hits like this was the best way to get to know someone . . . Aifred . . . Even Zavied. So what did this man’s fist tell him? They lacked something, the wildness of the previous two, it was a good punch quick to hit its target, thrown well. . . Eizen relaxes his stance slightly.

“I’m starting to see, you really must’ve been locked away for a while huh? Where’s your feelings guy? Did you feel anything when you threw that? At all?” He reaches out, grabbing one of the open bottles of whiskey, taking a quick swig. He’d pay for it later. Probably. Again he glances around him, the floorboards the tables, the bottles- as if a pirate would fight fair.

He throws the bottle just to the left of the man, it’s aimed to hit if he doesn’t dodge but-  He brings his foot down again, on a slightly loose floor board connecting just under the others foot-  meant to lift the other man up and throw him off balance.

Lucifer’s own hand moved on reflex, and the other man’s fist slammed into his open palm before it could connect with his jaw. He definitely felt the impact of it–the man was strong, probably not any normal mortal, if he was mortal at all. 

And yet, Lucifer remained unfazed, staring at the other man. His grip on the fist was firm, yet loose enough to pull away from, should the man choose. And Lucifer wanted to give him a choice before he got serious.

“…I told you that I have no quarrel with you, provided you are not my enemy.” And he saw no reason for him to be an enemy. He didn’t even recognize this person. He definitely wasn’t a primal beast, as strange as his aura was. 

“And yet…you are attacking me unprovoked. Why is that? I would like to understand, as I mean no harm.” 

The fact that this man reacts to his punch isn’t that surprising- it’s hardly his best given how much of his strength has been taken away. Yet it’s just that, he does stop his fist, even without his seraphic strength he was probably stronger than most humans.

He does attempt to pull his arm back once- the man wasn’t letting go. Although he doesn’t look it, he’s got some power. Was he one of the residents who had just been around forever or . . .?

“Not bad. Whatever you are.” What had he said- his previous job, locked away in an office away from everyone else? Now Eizen was a little more curious. Again he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the same coin he flipped before. “No quarrel? The way you talk is weak. You don’t need to understand everything, not my enemy? Why does that matter.”

He moves the coin for a few seconds between his fingers, balancing it carefully- the reaper’s face showing itself every time it moves. “Sometimes words just don’t cut it, to know someone you have to know their fists their pain. Wanna know how I feel?” In a quick motion he suddenly flips the coin high into the air, ideally the man would be distracted by it. “Square up pretty-boy.”

The wrong place at the wrong time? Unlucky? Lucifer didn’t quite understand. The man spoke as if his actions had been uncontrollable, circumstantial, as if it had truly been a rampage…but that didn’t appear to be the case. After all, unlike maddened beasts, the man was still able to hold a civil conversation with Lucifer.

That description wasn’t entirely inaccurate either. Holed up in an office away from every other living thing? That wasn’t all too different from what his duties as the supreme primarch had been like. 

“You were able to discern my former role from just a single glance… You are quite formidable indeed.”

Lucifer probably wasn’t supposed to take that seriously, but alas, he didn’t know any better. Sarcastic intent flew right over his head.

“I had thought that this was a place that specialized in coffee, but I appear to have been mistaken.” He glanced at the shattered bottle at his feet. Definitely didn’t look like something that mortals used to store coffee. “You say that I am unlucky. Will you attack me next?”

“Former role?” Eizen relaxes ever so slightly, not out of comfort but confusion. What the hell was this guy talking about? “Formidable . . . ?” That he could agree with, after everything the earth spirit had been through he was very formidable.

Eizen had to admit, he was a little slow on the up take sometimes . . . He’d been teased about it before by his sister and friends. But if he was a little slow then this guy was just outright late.

“Coffee . . .?” He glances around them, ignoring the broken things and people- the style of the this place did not look like a coffee house at all. “You can’t be serious.”

“You say that I am unlucky. Will you attack me next?”

“ . . . Good question.”

Edna flinches, forced to step away as Zaveid throws his chair back into the table, sending it and the glasses atop it to the floor, glass shards showering her boots as they shatter. She doesn’t want to hear these words. She wants so badly to cover her ears. To block out the hurtful things they’re saying to each other. And for what reason? Because of her? Because Eizen left to protect her and Zaveid promised to kill him to protect her as well?

Instead she’s left clutching her umbrella so tightly she’s half worried she’ll break it, watching as Zaveid grabs Eizen by the back of the coat and punches him in the face. She knows Seraphim don’t generate Malevolence on their own, but the atmosphere is so tense, it’s causing a tight feeling in her chest. It’s getting so hard to breathe. She wants to go outside, to get as far away from humans and this fight as possible, but she can’t. She can’t. She can’t leave them.

“Please–” 

The words are hard to get out, because her chest is gripped with anxiety as the feeling of tears burns the back of her throat and the corners of her eyes. But she can’t stand to see them fighting. Not again.

Futilely, Edna tries to push them apart; to get in between them with her tiny body without using Giant’s Strength to force them apart. After that fight with dragon Eizen, she’s in no shape to be using it. And the toll it will take on her is too great for her to use it when she’s not even sure it will work.

“Stop it! Brother–Zaveid–stop fighting! I said I’d explain, don’t–don’t say that shit about each other. Come on, please. We’re together again, we don’t need to do this.”

But she knows her words will fall on deaf ears, and she’s doing her best to fight back the tears she didn’t want them to see earlier. Those two were too hard-headed for their own good, and they wouldn’t stop fighting until they were satisfied.

@clear-path

Yeah he realized this was a possibility. There was a good chance this would happen, even if he tried to avoid it. So be it. He grimaces a little at the words of the wind seraph. They hurt, it’s something he’s asked himself thousands of times was he doing this for himself or for his sister?

He had always said it was for his sister. Always.

But sometimes it felt like a lie.

The weight of those words was far heavier than the punch that knocks him backwards- stumbling for a few steps before regaining his balance. A few drops of blood exit the corner of his mouth- he spits the excess to the side.

“What would you know about that!?”

A lot, a thousand years more

“You weren’t there!”

And neither was he.

“You think this curse is an EXCUSE!?”

It only existed because of his own foolishness. His own over-protection in the first place. It was his fault. One of the only chances he had to get rid of it was to kill a friend’s loved one- dragon or not. He refused to disrespect that person’s life like that, the memories Zavied had of her.

He takes a step towards Zavied again, there’s no way he’s getting off with that hit unscathed. The floorboards creak underneath the weight as he launches himself forward, he swings his fist inwards, but rather than just connecting his punch, he grabs hold of the wind seraph’s side lifting him up- throwing him at the bar.

He wants to follow it up, that would hardly keep Zavied down, even worn out as they were but something stops him- a small hand pushing him back. Edna. Why was she standing there- what was she saying? We’re together again? We don’t need to do this?

A thousand years . . .

He wasn’t there for any of it. He’d only returned to her as a dragon, isn’t that right? He returned to her, because Zavied hadn’t killed him . . .

A thousand years later . . .

He can’t process it- what he’s feeling, everything is too much at the moment, all these feelings- this anger he needs to get rid of it. Is it anger at himself, at Zavied- at whatever event caused all this to happen in the first place. He just doesn’t know.

Then something catches his eye, something on Edna’s face.

His fist tightens for a moment, before relaxing. Irregardless of how he felt about all of it. It didn’t matter how angry he was at Zavied, or at himself. If this was all for her- if this was for Edna’s sake, then why would she be crying?

Selfish.

He always was, he always had been. He’s angry still there’s no denying that, he doesn’t want to walk away from this, however . . . He reaches a hand out towards Edna, ruffling her hair a little. Instinctual.  

What would be the point of any of it if he ended up hurting her anyways?

“Edna . . . I’m sorry.” His eyes are downcast, not quite looking at her at first but eventually he does. “I’m . . .” So sorry, but the words don’t quite come out as he pulls his hand back. He shoots Zavied one last glance- neither of them were done here but he won’t do this now. Not with Edna here.

“I have to go.” He pauses a sudden wave of familiarity about this situation. He doesn’t particularly like it. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” If he could apologize with just his eyes he would, but that’s impossible even for a spirit. Almost immediately turning away from them both afterwards, heading towards the exit.

He’s done enough for one night.

Ah, Lucifer thought with dull surprise, as a body sailed past him. His expression didn’t change even as the man face-planted into the pavement behind him. This is the wrong place… I was mistaken.

Blankly, he observed the wreckage around him. Smashed tables, broken bottles, and fallen men strewn all over the place… It was the scene of a localized disaster. And the cause? A tall, burly man in the middle of it all who seemed to be radiating hostility. An enemy to mortals? Or simply someone in dire need to blow off some steam? Lucifer couldn’t really tell, alas–he didn’t have the emotional sensitivity.

And then, the man addressed him with a gaze that could pierce through steel. Lucifer returned it with a blank stare of his own. The man before him… Was he mortal too? There was something different about him.

“At ease. So long as you are not my enemy, then I have no quarrel with you.” He took a glance around at the destruction that the man had apparently single-handedly wrought. “But I must admit, I am curious as to what prompted such a rampage. Did those mortals anger you?”

Perhaps the way he worded his question would answer some things about the man…

Ugh . . . What was his problem, who looks at a mess like this and has zero reaction- who takes a threat from the Reaper and pretends its nothing? He almost seems like he would’ve carefully tip-toed around this entire situation had Eizen not called him out.

But what the earth malak hated most of all was this odd sense of calming. Something about this man radiated peace- he . . .Eizen’s eyes narrow for a moment. Was he some kind of magic user? No, in fact . . . Was he human even?

He didn’t have enough of his abilities unlocked to be sure and this pain in the back of his head was going to drive him up a wall if he continued to think about it.

She took the coward’s exit. To avoid talking to her brother she ran to the bathroom, leaving Zaveid to face his wrath alone. To answer the questions neither of them want to answer. It’s taking every bit of her willpower not to break down in tears, and when she locks herself in the bathroom, she finally allows herself to slip. A few tears, likely fueled by the alcohol in addition to what she’s just been through. But she needs to push on. 

After all, leaving Zaveid alone with Eizen for that long was just…cruel. Even for her. 

Once she’s satisfactorily composed herself, Edna exits the restroom, heading back to the table where she left Eizen and Zaveid. But she knows immediately something is wrong by Eizen’s stance. He’s standing up, defensively, glaring down at Zaveid, and she hears what he asks.

“Did you keep your promise?”

She remembers all too well every time she’d see Zaveid on Rayfalke. The shit she’d given him on a near-constant basis. But seeing him yelled at by Eizen over his promise… And knowing now that Zaveid was facing the wrath of warring siblings who both just wanted stupidly and selfishly to protect each other. 

He didn’t deserve that. After all, he was trying his best to keep conflicting promises to both her and her brother.

“Brother, stop!” 

The words are out of her mouth before she even realizes it, and now both Eizen and Zaveid are staring at her. She’s almost certain they didn’t notice her return. But she can’t let this continue. She can’t let Zaveid take everything for her. It’s not his responsibility. 

“If you want answers, I’ll–I’ll give them to you, but don’t take it out on Zaveid. It’s not his fault. He was only trying to protect me.”

From you, she leaves unsaid. 

@whxrlwxnd -> @clear-path

Eizen’s head snaps to the side, he hadn’t expected Edna to take long but, she was back already. He’s angry but as soon as he looks towards her his face untenses a little. Not that the rest of his body does- fist still tightly clenched.

Answers . . .? Of course he wants answers.

Not Zavied’s fault . . .? Protect her . . .? Protect her from what exactly? The whole reason he had made that agreement so long ago. Zavied was the only one he could trust, he was the only one that would be around as long as he was- and he was the one that should understand more than anyone else. The pain of a loved one becoming a dragon.

The pain of chasing them around . . .

Knowing that they’ll never be what they once were.

His fist finally un-clenches, relaxing somewhat. He reaches down to the table- picking up his glass and downing the rest of whats in it. The burn feels pretty good.

He can’t look at her any more, he can’t knowing what he does in the future.

What he does in the future . . . And the man who lets it happen. His movements are steady, and clean, although they’re far from calm. He sets the glass back down on the table and approaches Zavied. Cold sky-colored eyes would stare the wind seraph down.

“Don’t make me laugh.” His jaw clenches a little, he can’t help but let some of his anger- and his frustration out. He doesn’t hate Zavied, he doesn’t. Yet. . . “This guy? Protect? Last thing I saw him protect died right in front of him. The time before that they got taken away by exorcists.” He doesn’t move his eyes from Zavied’s, a pause letting those last few words hang in the air.

“This guy? He’s never protected anyone in his life.”

Finally the contact breaks as Eizen turns away. He had barely gotten to his drink at all. He hadn’t intended on stuff breaking down like this, he hadn’t intended on losing control. The shadows gnawing at his soul, becoming ever more painful. He can’t look at his sister right now- no he doesn’t deserve too after saying words like that to their friend.

“I’m going outside, the smell in here is awful.”

He doesn’t look back as he heads to the door. If Zavied followed him outside he couldn’t guarantee he won’t do something reckless. The feeling that’s persisted since meeting the dragon, he can’t be near Edna either he can’t- won’t hurt her. He can’t, why would he have done, everything he did if . . .

 He has to get away, he has to calm down.

He had a shitty week to say the least, with all the events bringing the city back together as one full thing you’d think he’d be happy. No more Reaper’s Curse again, no more monsters, his sister was safe . . .

But no, everything was going wrong, that dragon, that conversation, he needed some stress relief- and a bunch of drunk humans are better than perfect for something like that. He’d remind himself to say sorry to the owner of this bar eventually, as he throws another one through a table shattering it.

More of his friends start to get up, all red-faced, all shouting. Alright, good this would keep his mind off of that. At least, it seemed that way until the door opens, whoever it was wasn’t trying to make an entrance. It was quiet, most people wouldn’t even notice and yet somehow everyone seemed drawn to the action, staring dumb-faced for a few seconds.

As if that would stop  him now though.

Another fist thrown, clean hit into the guys face, sending him flying into the previously smashed table.

“Pay attention or you’re gonna get hurt.” He didn’t care who had walked in, though he does give him a quick glance. Typical pretty-boy. Zavied would be all over him-

A pang of irrational anger (as if he wasn’t angry enough), at thought of the wind Malak- that feeling swirling inside of him, pain so intense he doesn’t want to move but he needs too, if he wants it to go away, so he takes a step in, moving his body to the side to dodge the next blow- bringing his fist into their gut.

He shakes his hand off, it was mildly more annoying to fight as ‘a human’, before pulling out a coin. Eyes locking onto the newcomer. He flips the coin upwards.

“Got a problem?”

It never felt good to get punched. Baozhai figured that it wasn’t much different for humans even though their lungs were smaller and fatter by comparison. His instincts helped him at least not bang his head on the concrete, but the rest of his body flumped sadly and he sucked in a sharp breath as half his lungs were emptied.

As he groaned, he began to ball up into a mass of coils and oddly flexible limbs. He hadn’t asked for this and he was trying to control the urge to sink his teeth into this attacker and probably devour his putrid flesh for nutrients. Bluh.

“Yeah, well, you try getting punched in the lungs,” Baozhai wheezed. “Those are my guts you’re assaulting.”

As he coiled tighter into a ball, he poked his head out, flicking his tongue partially in annoyance and partially to taste the air for possible intent. He was fully prepared to flee or withdraw if he had to. Biting the other was a last resort mostly out of fear.

“You gonna kick me too?” Baozhai asked. “I’m not one of those monsters. I’m just a regular person…bitch.”

The earth malak considers again, leaning down to help him up- as he coils up though he decides it’s best to stay back just . . . Let him get it all out. Thankfully, most of the nearby monsters were still cleared out, he wouldn’t have to waste any of his precious five minutes of power.

Or well, in this case chances are his Reaper’s Curse might just finish the poor thing off. He isn’t sure how to respond, by all means this creature had every reason to hate him, or even want to hit him back. He had already said sorry. . . So?

“To be fair I’ve been punched in the gut plenty, it’s sort of like, my thing.” Was . . . He sticking his tongue out at him. “Anyways, I said sorry didn’t I? Do you . . . Uh. Do you want help?”

NOW that the creature has seemed to be less . . . Writhing in pain it might be fine to kneel down, hold out a hand. Again, it insults him but again he absolutely deserves it in this case.

“No I’m not gonn-” A deep breath, alright just, try to help the creature. “I am not going to kick you or anything and, my name is The Reaper” Ah, right that title didn’t matter here. “I mean, Eizen. Well, what it’s just not. Bitch.”

A short pause, okay he introduced himself so now . . . Ask the other person their name right? Fresh start here we go, like he didn’t just bash in his lungs.

“Don’t mention it. I’ve been around the block a few times, I know ‘what’s up’ as the kids say. Glad to know it all worked out. I’m uh . . . Happy for you. I’ll treat you and your partner to drinks sometime.”

＞　Zaveid really wishes that Eizen had just hit him instead.

  “There’s…” He struggles to start, draining the rest of his glass before trying to continue, gaze glued to the table. “There’s no easy way to answer that.”

  Maybe he hadn’t hurt her physically, if you didn’t count the dragon today. He wasn’t actually sure. Edna was smart enough to keep away, even if she would never leave him alone. But mentally? Emotionally? He knew Edna felt responsible for him, even though it should have been Zaveid’s burden to bear; his oath to keep.

  He feels like he might break the empty glass in his hands if he holds it any tighter. The anxiety and alcohol knotted in his stomach was making him nauseous. He wants to apologize; over and over until he goes hoarse, but he knows it wont fix anything, and most of all he knows that Eizen wont accept it. 

  Doubt gnaws at him. There was no excuse for taking 200 years to fulfill his promise, nor for dragging Edna into it. He could place the blame on the Shepard, of course, and Sorey’s inane notion that he could purify a dragon, but that accounted for less than a year out of two full centuries. 

  Zaveid realizes that he’s been silent for far too long, and glances up to find Eizen still avoiding his eye. He makes a pained sort of sigh before shoving his empty cup into the middle of the table and shaking his head when the server moves to approach—he’s done. Didn’t even hit three before the anxiety took over.

     “I—”

  He can’t get the words out. They catch in his throat, threatening to choke. Maotelus, he wishes Eizen would look at him.

     “It’s over. It’s been over.” It comes out quiet, wavering. He’s trying to keep the unspoken apology out of his voice. “Isn’t that enough?”

He’s quiet, Eizen still won’t turn towards him of course. He doesn’t know if he’s angry at Zavied or angry at himself, he just knows he’s . . Angry. Everything that’s been hidden from him, surely he could’ve prevent it.

He gives Zavied his time to answer the question, he’d wait- that was fine. Even as his hand squeezes the glass hard, he has to actively force himself to loosen his grip and it’s not easy. 

‘Damn it Zavied. Just tell me already!’

His breathing is steady, it’s taking all of his energy to keep it that way though, keep his body as motionless as possible. They were all hurt it would do no good to start a fight now. . .

“I-”

He starts to turn to him, instinctively finally lets put this to rest-

“It’s over. It’s been over. Isn’t that enough?”

He grits his teeth, He wants to slam his fist down on the table. Stop beating around the bush, even if you have to lie to him- just do it, give him something fake or true it doesn’t matter!

It’s no good he can feel his blood rushing again- he’s definitely angry at Zavied now. So he pushes away from the table. Stands up. Staring down at him- his friend.

A thousand years in the future . . . How many of those were spent with the wind seraph? How many foes did they fight in that time, how many more lands did they explore? And he couldn’t tell him this? He couldn’t tell him this bit of info that was more important to him than his own life?

He takes a deep breath. His voice is cold when he speaks again. Fine, give him a question he has to answer. Give him a question he knows he won’t dodge.

“Zavied.” He wants to hide the anger but he can’t hide all of it, his cerulean eyes, brimming with the rage of a thousand year old brother. “Did you keep your promise?”

@clear-path​ > @earlybloomerseraph​

＞　Zaveid’s grip on his drink tightens, setting it back on the table untouched. He grits his teeth as Edna speaks, but looks up in surprise as she gets up to leave. Three drinks down - well, more like four - and still injured… sure she can take care of herself, but those factors combined with what was an emotionally unstable setting had him worried. 

     “Edna, wait-” He moves to stand, but doesn’t follow, one hand with a vice-grip on the edge of the table. She can’t do this; she can’t leave him with this, not now, not after everything that’s happened.

  He sits back down with a pained huff, swiping his drink back off the table and downing it in one gulp. 

     “She’s right.” There’s a weight to the words he doesn’t like. “Been about a thousand years. Can’t say much more than that, though.”

  The empty glass is raised in the air to signal another to be brought to him. He’d have to remember to tip well, if this didn’t end with him splattered on their nice floors. 

  There was no telling Eizen. It was out of the question; no matter what Eizen did, or said, Zaveid wouldn’t break his promise to Edna. No matter what. 

     “Sorry. That’s really all I’ve got for you.” he sips the new drink set in front of him, giving the server a little wave and a smile. “It’s a long and embarrassing story, and as much as I know you’d love to hear about me making a fool of myself…”

  He takes another long gulp, draining most of the glass. The wind seraph gives Eizen a playful smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Go ahead and call me a liar if you want! Hit me, even? Just get it out of your system so we can move past whatever this is.” He winks. Maybe if he could annoy the other man into just pummeling him instead of talking, and save him the (metaphorical) pain. 

  This was going to hurt either way. He’d rather it just be physical.

A thousand? He’s definitely surprised by that- he’s been around awhile but. . . Another thousand? He watches Zavied move to stop her, he almost does himself but it’s clear she’s still not ready to talk about . . . Whatever this is.

But that finally, absolutely confirms it doesn’t it- the way they’re acting the dragon. Something did happen and it was his fault. He takes another drink- downs it all. Fills his glass back up again. It’s all he can do to calm down. His fingers unconsciously tighten around the glass.

“Is that right?” His voice is calm even if he’s not entirely, he glances in the direction his sister had left, she was long gone for the moment. . . Which is what he wanted actually. “Normally you love making a fool of yourself, I’m surprised you don’t want to tell this story.”

Another drink, he doesn’t down the whole thing this time- but he won’t look at Zavied, he’s staring outwards towards the beach . . . The sea. It had been a few months since he had seen it before coming to this place and it was still as beautiful and vast as ever.

“Zavied.” 

His voice sounds a little tired, but serious, he thinks he knows whats going on and as much banter as he could toss at the other Malak and pretend nothing is wrong, he trusts him. The only other person aside from his sister to learn his true name- he had hoped to tell it to Aifred one day but . . .

“You can’t tell me what happened but you can tell me what I did.” A small pause before continuing, he still won’t make eye contact, he doesn’t want it to be true after all and for whatever reason Zavied doesn’t want to say. So he’d phrase it differently. “Did I hurt Edna?” 

When I became a dragon, is what he would finish that off with if he thought he could get away with it.