#ashbringer

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

That was a phrase Alexandros had heard often throughout his life. Yet he wondered how to apply the phrase when life had turned him into a haunted blade meant to kill unholy creatures. Was the blade the lemons? His soul? The undead? Fuck, he wasn't poetic like Tirion, and trying to brood in silence while the old man slept was making Alexandros feel like he had ants crawling on him.

Peering over at the still figure, Alexandros reached out to wake him so they could go for a walk, but retracted his hand and cursed himself for even thinking of it. Tirion had barely slept in weeks and had barely just found time tonight to actually rest. Too much was happening all around, and the man felt compelled to keep it all straight somehow.

With a sigh, Alexandros stood up from his seat. A courtesy Tirion always made sure to give him, even though it was unneeded. Chairs, beds, cushions, blankets. All that mortal shit Alex no longer could take full pleasure in, always there like he'd suddenly sprout skin and need it. Alexandros froze in his spot as the chair creaked at his movement, causing him to suck in a not-needed breath as he waited to see if Tirion awoke.

Thankfully, the older man was dead to the world, and Alex released his fake breath before finishing to stand. Turning around, he cautiously pressed a hand onto the back of the chair and was delighted to see it budge ever so softly.

Corporality was like the sun for Alexandros. Sometimes it was high in the sky, and he could move freely, grab books to read, and feel things. Other times it was the moon, and he was damn near blind and deaf to the world.

Peering over to where the Ashbringer sat propped against the right side of the bed, where Tirion could easily grab it, Alexandros couldn't hide his smile at knowing his walk could be more imminent.

Moving from the left side, a position where a clear view of the door and exits was seen, Alexandros reached out to what remained of him physically and quietly lifted the blade. Both of them had become keenly aware of the dangers of midnight assailants and fallen into a rhythm to keep each other safe.

Feeling his feet make contact with the wood floor grounded Alex as he moved, relishing in the quiet sound. To be seen and heard by the world, even if momentarily, was one of the few blessings he was afforded. The Ashbringer lifted as if it weighed nothing and willingly slid into its position against Alexandros's back like a familiar shirt worn into his shape.

It took only four wide steps to make it to the door, the knob turning silently and hinges blissfully remaining quiet as the apparition of Alexandros made to leave. Only to hesitate before quickly flicking a hand Tirion's way and set upon him a blessing of protection so that he need not worry while away.