#edxnian

❛❛ ... ❜❜

new blood, fresh blood. something powerful. he could damn near sense it the instant the power reached his domain. few things got him to so swiftly leave the darkness that he so often found himself drowning in. his movements were swift, as he moved through the shadows of the castle to the valley below, anxious to greet whomever held such delightful power. with a swiftness he descended upon the stark empty streets, darkening the dirt roads beneath him. a woman, the source of such strange energy, inhuman and nothing of earth he had ever experienced. oh, he must know more. it didn’t take long for him to move himself to appear before her.

His only light is from dimly lit tourches that sit outside against the cell walls. It smells like rusty pennies, mildew and piss down here, with the stench of death not far behind it. Erron sits, bloodiesd, broken and beaten up against his dungeon cell wall, head against the cobblestone, cursing himself. 

If he had just kept his mouth shut, he wouldn’t even be here. 

He’d be up on the surface, miding his buisness, maybe being sent on another mission or another hunt. Being kept busy one way or another. His employers always kept him busy.

When they weren’t locking him in here like it was their own little version of tme out.

But no. He’s here. He’s here because the princess failed her own little mission, and Erron decided to take the blame. Like he was some kind of bleeding heart. She was there being hollared at, right in front of him, by her daddy, the Kahn. The whole thing was akward as hell at first, watching family members squabbling in front of him. Up until at one point, the Kahn raises his hand to strike her, does Erron decide against better judgement, to interject. Saying it’s his fault things went South.

He knew damn well it was hers. Yet he said something, and got sent into a wall.

And look what got playing the hero got him. Hours in a nasty dungeon, waiting for either the Kahn himself or one of his many lackey’s to cut him loose. Who knows how ever long that would be. So he closes his eyes, tries to let himself maybe sleep some of this pain off, when he hear the dungeon door open, and he thinks for a minute Shao’s come to gather him. But instead of thunderous footstaeps, he hears the click of heels, and a flash of blue appear behnd his cell doors.

–and the Kahn bit back the comment of how it would likely look better on the floor. By the Elder Gods, what /was/ that impulse to say such a thing?