LIAR, LIAR.

“What do you think?” Was that the right question to ask? Tatl, since meeting Jahliqai, had been wondering just how to get under his skin in a multitude of ways. Of course, this was only meant by words alone. Jahliqai had been very interesting as far as people go in Tatl’s eyes - surprisingly, it was hard to fully get his interest. But with every day that passed, Tatl began to ride the highs of the challenge that was Jahliqai Oronir, someone that he was so sure detested him until this very moment. The viera was about to spar with him, his scythe in hand, when this question had slipped out so loosely, so jarringly, that Tatl felt his grip on his weapon slacken. What sort of question was this? Coming from a man who he was so sure hated every fibre of his being. Tatl wasn’t shy to speaking his mind, of course. There were a lot of things he could have said before, but chose to restrain himself, if only because he’d wanted to continue this little game they’d been playing. After all, he does love a good chase.

“ You dare ask! ” How preposterous — humored as he is, and seldom does he pass up the opportunity to fawn.  “ Should anyone hold a flame brighter than yours I’d surely burn. Suffice to say, this back and forth wouldn’t happen were I not interested in some way — Oh, did I mean to say that out loud? ”  Yet no signs of embarrassment sear his skin, still smiling, never one to shy away. “ Heh, though, were this conversation to stretch further, I might have to change my plans tonight. ”

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playing hero again.    even so much as the mention of the word left an unsettling feeling in the pit of tatl’s stomach.    something twisting and turning,  and he looked at zenos with an expression that was indescribable.     apart of tatl felt there was something else - a sort of venom that stuck very personally with him compared to others.    zenos’s words were like an arrow coated in poison,  and tatl simply allowed that poison to spread.     why?    because he still liked the way it hurt.    it was something,  and any something was always better than nothing with him.   tatl wanted to laugh in response,   the sort of bitter chuckle that was also dripping in his own sort of venom.   because zenos was right.   tatl was no hero.  he was probably worse than the last warrior of light.  incomparable,  despite what most others said about him.  and worthless.   well,  tatl wasn’t going to judge his standards.  he gave zenos a smile in return,  one that was laced with irony.     “      you think i’m playing hero?     ”    tatl asked.   was that it?   he paused,  and then said,  both quietly and carefully,      “      or not the hero you wanted?     ”    not the hero that everyone else had come to know.  tatl was told time and time again that he could be one if he tried,  and time and time again tatl would insist otherwise.   in that respect,  perhaps zenos knew that about him better than others.   what an unfortunate outcome.

Where the drawl of a lax nature coos beside him, does Jahliqai’s face twist in a way that suggests the unease he knows they both feel (the depth of that anguish is still smothered – a buried choke that he struggles to swallow). The wind rips through them in violent currents that tell of the ruthlessness they witness below – no end, as it were (this was their end). “ …It’s as you say, “ comes the reluctant agreement, because Jahliqai wishes he did not have to. But wishing will not bring these emptied shells back with souls intact. Wishing will not relieve them of the misery they would not want to inflict on their own people. Complications upon complications – always muddled with the grays of morality and forsaking the blacks and the whites. 

Thus, Jahliqai surrenders to the inevitability of struggle – and adopts it into himself as he’s always done. When he lifts his greatsword from the earth, it’s with a resolve that bleeds from the grip of his hilt (always tight, never threatening to loosen). A short breath, and Jahliqai follows in Tatl’s footsteps – allowing the thrill of battle to overtake him too.

     “ …So we will thin them out. “ The lid of his eyes, and a dark power yields to the curator within the swell of his chest, “ ––and I will carve your path. “

Tatl hated admitting to any vulnerability. No matter how obvious it was, no matter if he was scared or disgusted deep down. If anyone was to even try and make him admit to it, he’d always dismiss the opportunity. So, at Jahliqai’s expression, Tatl’s smile only grew wider, something forced but given with so much practice that it was hard to tell otherwise. Better to get going than linger on the absence of what once were living beings. Tatl knew loss, but not intimitely. There had only been one time, and since then, he’d always been running. This situation was no different. It was better to allow himself the luxury of madness than to succumb to the ever encompassing wave of grief. He didn’t want to go back. Refused to go back. At Jahliqai’s next words, Tatl let out a low chuckle. That was right. It was better to simply clear the path before them as swiftly and as quickly as possible to avoid that wave of grievence. Tatl would allow his weapon to guide him and carry him through flesh and bone, and he would smile whilst doing it. After all, ignorance was bliss.