(no subject)

[monolike]

[The first thing Sorey thinks as he falls is what Lailah said as they left Camlann; that without his domain, all of them would instantly be hellions. The ground collapses beneath his feet, the wind drake behind him snaps up his cloak in its jaws and he sees the terror on Mikleo's face just before Symonne's laughter shrieks out and he and the drake fall together.

If they're too far away from me-

He can still feel their connection. He can still feel them, even if they can't go to him, and Sorey prays that's enough.

Wind rushes past them and Sorey tries to wrench out of the drake's grip (It's gotta be a wind seraph, Zaveid had shouted as they were thrown into the thick of battle in the tight corridors of the fortress), twisting and turning, sword in his hand. They'd weakened the drake considerably as a team but he's not sure he's powerful enough on his own to purify it, not even with all the strength he's gathered. Not without the others.

Hopefully, because Rose is there, they'll be okay. Please, please, I can't lose anyone else-

They fall far but hit a collapsed spire at an angle; in the mess the drake releases Sorey (or maybe his cloak tears, he can't tell) and he tumbles, bumps against it and hits the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth in his head and jar his bones. He pushes himself up, ignoring the bruises and aches, the constant, thumping worry of his heart and puts his sword between he and the drake as it sways up to its feet.]

Don't worry, [he promises the poor thing, because thank god, thank god it's not a dragon yet. There's still hope.] I'm going to save you. Don't worry, it'll be over soon.

Comments

[sylphystia]

[The drake takes a moment to get to its feet, and it lets out a pained roar when it does. One of its wings is ripped and torn and bloody, crumpled uselessly against its side; its tail thrashes and sends part of another broken column rolling into the darkness. There's a voice, echoing-- where is it?

Where is the enemy?

The drake turns, trying to find the source of the voice. Everything is echoing and the air is dead down here. It can't find its way. It needs to eat, it needs to fight, it needs to protect... protect something...

What did it want to protect?

The light slanting in far above gives a better glimpse of dark silvery scales and green horns, but the drake's eyes are a lifeless milky silver-white. It looks right at Sorey, but it doesn't see him; instead, it sets its snout down and sniffs around, trying to find some trace of its escaped prey.]

[monolike]

[When the drake doesn't immediately lunge for him, Sorey takes a careful step back. Its head jerks in his direction, but when he's still it snuffles in agitation and growls low, a wet-sounding series of clicks in the back of its throat. What is it waiting for? Symonne wasn't controlling it before, but it was going straight for-

The slivers of sickly light from above catch on its eyes and colors its silvery pupils pink.]

You're blind, [Sorey breathes out, dread settling into his stomach as his heart makes a realization before his mind can. Blind? Did someone attack the drake's eyes? Will it affect the seraph? But there aren't any wounds, and if someone had used a light bright enough to blind it then it would've been obvious in battle. Was it already blind?

It's gotta be a wind seraph

The way Symonne had laughed when they'd fallen, like she hadn't just lost her own battle, having to face Rose and the others alone- like she knew something, like it was going in her favor and all she needed to do as escape-

That's enough, I think.

Sorey almost drops his sword when he realizes. The tip of it taps to the broken stone below his feet as he sucks in a painful breath, watching the drake (silver and black and jade scales shimmering as it moves, blood oozing from wounds in its flank), listening to it whine and huff as it tries to find him, listening to it snarl and understanding, with sudden clarity, that he knows that cadence of sounds. He's heard it before; at his back, in battle, in his own head and heart.]

Dezel...

[sylphystia]

[The drake thrashes violently, tail smacking into another column but not knocking it over. It's getting frustrated. It can smell the human as much as its own blood, but it can't find him. It lets out a choked roar and turns, slams its head into the nearest bit of stone and sends some more bricks flying harmlessly. Everything is searing pain and blood and it can't... it can't find...

It lurches in Sorey's direction and gets about five steps before its legs give out from beneath it. Its torn, useless wings lay spread on the floor at strange angles. It paws weakly at the granite floor as if that might bring the human over-- the human it lost, the human it

knows

The drake snaps its jaws on empty air. Maybe if it fills the room with fire-- but nothing happens.]

[monolike]

[It is. It's him. The drake is Dezel. How is it possible? How can-

Later.

Sorey sets his jaw. Questions later. He pulls up the flames of purification, tugs gently on his connection with Lailah and feels it resound, however sluggishly, to his call. The others are still within range. Probably searching frantically for him, if he knows his friends. Mikleo's really going to let him have it.]

Dezel...bear with it for a moment, [Sorey begs, then lets loose as much fire as possible over him. Wind submits to fire so it should work, it should burn away all of the malevolence, please, please don't let it be too late.]

[sylphystia]

[It hurts. It burns and it sears and it tears the wind away from the drake like a limb, like losing its sight all over again, like its very breath. The dragonkin roars and screams in pain, a horrible noise that echoes along the walls and sends little things skittering into the darkness. It thrashes violently with the last of its life as the darkness melts away into ashes like paper set aflame.

And, as Sorey expected, it leaves a familiar figure laying motionless amidst the destruction. He's never looked so defenseless before; even when he was on the edge of death, there was a fighting smirk on his face. In the absence of that, he looks as young as he truly is-- just a scant few years older than Mikleo, really.

And then he takes a heaving breath.]

[monolike]

Dezel. [It's really him.

Sorey drops to his knees, grabbing Dezel and hauling him up against his chest, as if he could pull him inside of himself if he just held on tightly enough.] Dezel, quick, if you can you have to reinstate the pact. Can you connect it again? [The malevolence here is too thick; it'll be a constant cycle of purification, and Dezel won't survive that, not in the condition he's in. The sooner he can rest in Sorey's domain, the better.

And. Yeah. Sorey's not clutching him this tight just for Dezel's sake. He can still remember how it felt, how Dezel had been ripped right off of his soul to make that attack, how he'd left with a breath and a whisper of goodbye and how it had taken everything Sorey had to actually pull that trigger. He's never let go of that. Not guilt, not a disrespect for Dezel's decisions, but regret, god, so much regret. If there just could have been another way- If he could have done something different, then maybe Dezel would've...]

[sylphystia]

[Sorey seizes him and pulls him into his arms, but Dezel still isn't totally aware of what's going on. The world feels... strange, wishy-washy, like it might melt away from his hands. The darkness is familiar-- that hasn't changed-- but he feels like he's forgetting something important.]

Ss... Sorey?

[The name comes half-choked from a mouth dusty with disuse, a mouth used to forming snarls and growls instead of words. This might be another trick. He doesn't want to believe it just in case it is, but there's something undeniable about the Shepherd's warmth. Even Dezel, naked without the pact, can feel his purity. It's the only light in the hellish malevolence pressing down on him, the hatred making it impossible to breathe.

He doesn't recognize where he is. Some kind of underground courtyard, or something. Whenever he tries to remember, his head screams at him, and his heart feels sick. It comes back to him in brief flashes: Symonne dragging him away from the town; only recovering enough that he could survive becoming a hellion; wandering in a desert alone, with only illusions to torment him; wings ripping up out of his back as he finally gives up hope--

He sucks in another breath, pained, and his trembling fingers find the front of Sorey's shirt. The reason why Sorey wants the pact--]

I became a hellion. I-- I don't deserve--

[monolike]

There's no time for that! You're going to become a hellion again and probably kill me if you don't make a pact right away, so hurry, Dezel!

[He probably wouldn't kill Sorey; Sorey wouldn't let him, wouldn't allow him to do that sort of thing to himself but that he could become a hellion again is a very, very real worry. He can already see the way Dezel's straining, not just from his injuries but from the way the malevolence, thick as fog is pressing down around them, seeping into his pores, seeking out a being made of mana to twist and pervert into a monster of its own design.

Whatever they need to talk about, they can do it later when Dezel is safe.]

[sylphystia]

[He can feel his spirit wavering even as Sorey clutches at him, pleads with him to reform the pact. It's difficult to do that with his heart racing and his head still so full of doubt, but Sorey's tone brooks no argument. Dezel still feels mostly dead. His life has been one series of unfortunate events after another, and he has spent so much time alone lately. After finding out it was his fault, he...

For someone still injured, he's terribly quick when he reaches for Sorey's sword and presses the blade's tip to his own chest, securely above his heart.]

It's all right. I won't let that happen. [He's smiling.] I just need... some time.

[He searches through the darkness for the threads of old magic that form the pact. He can't see the Prime Lord's at first, though he can see the oath wrapped tightly around Sorey in his mind's eye. The malevolence is building, tearing at him with dark whispers, and he knows if he lets the panic overwhelm him then it really will be the end. There won't be a second chance. Death knows him intimately, now.

The cacophony of hatred starts to pull him in, but then he finds the pact and hangs on from the same thread he cut so long ago. His eyes open wide as the malevolence falls away like shedding layers upon layers of lead clothing. The world has a new color, a color he can't see, but he can feel it like the difference between air and water.

He's home.]

[monolike]

[Dezel presses the tip of Sorey's blade into his chest and Sorey's hand shoots out to grab it, to yank it away because no, not again, never again will a weapon he wields be used to kill Dezel but then he feels it.

He feels it like fingers creeping across his hand in the dark, feeling their way into his palm, pressing there until they can lace together. When Dezel reforms the pact Sorey shudders; Dezel is wounded, but still powerful, and the addition of an additional wind seraph unbalances him slightly until his soul and the pacts find an equilibrium. He feels, distantly, the alarm of his companions, most noticeably Lailah and Zaveid and he sends out a pulse of what he hopes feels like fine okay he's back fine safe. As the pact threads itself stronger he shoves the sword away, sends it skittering a dangerous distance away but he can't help himself.

A small, ever-bleeding wound in his heart is finally healing up. He had never managed to stop it up, that aching lack in his soul that represented Dezel's abrupt departure, and Sorey's guilt over the part he played in it. Now with Dezel knitting himself back into Sorey's soul it finally feels like it's healing and it really hits him, really sinks in all the way to the very core of himself that it's real. He's real.

Dezel is alive and real, and back where he belongs.]

You're alive, [Sorey says a little uselessly, choking on his tears as he bends over Dezel. Already he feels stronger, steadier, more powerful just by having Dezel back with him, and it's not all just the pact. Sorey lets his head tap against Dezel's chest, listening to the th-thmp of an imagined heart as he weeps as quietly as he can manage.]

[sylphystia]

[Dezel feels utterly spent after the hellion fight and reforging the pact. It's one thing when he's at full health and running on adrenaline, but after being worn down for weeks and weeks, he feels so heartsick. It's easing, though. He can feel it like sun on his face, like wind in his hair. Sorey's pure domain washes over him and the darkness ebbs, leaving his soul raw and red but clean.

There's no more sword at his chest and he isn't sure where it went, but that isn't important right now. He doesn't need it anymore. He isn't sure what he needs, actually. They should probably talk about this. They should reorient themselves and find a way out of here, but Sorey is bent over him like a grieving son.

Ah.

Not once has Dezel ever expected someone to grieve for him. But Sorey is crying, sobbing really, and there are hot tears sinking into his shirt. Dezel still doesn't quite believe. If he could see Sorey's face, that'd be one thing... but he can't, so he's left somewhat lost and without context.]

H-- hey...

[He reaches up with half-gloved fingers and touches Sorey's cheek, as much a gesture of curiosity as it is fondness. His fingertips come away damp.]

You don't have to cry over me.

[monolike]

Are you kidding? [Sorey laughs, the sound of it wet and he straightens back up to scrub at his eyes with a corner of his cloak, other arm strong around Dezel's shoulders.] We thought you were dead. I thought you were- I felt you leave my soul, I never imagined you could...

[Oh no. So that means Dezel wasn't dead, and they just let Symonne take him and twist him into a hellion. Sorey allows the guilt to pulse sick through him just long enough to acknowledge it before he packages it neatly away. He won't be poisoning their connection with any of that, not today, no sir.] I'm so happy. I'm so happy you're alive.

[Did you think he was done hugging you? Surprise he's not.]

[sylphystia]

Yeah, well... [His awareness is starting to return. The malevolence is still thick, awful thick, but it isn't going to turn him anytime soon.] You don't shoot yourself and expect to survive.

[This is real. This isn't another one of Symonne's ploys to turn him against his friends. This is real, with Sorey's warmth all-encompassing, and his words and tears straight from the heart.

I'm so happy you're alive.

He bites his bottom lip as he's crushed into a hug. Damn, he never expected... to hear that. Not ever. He's done so many terrible things and he regrets them all, but he never regretted saving Rose. He never regretted joining Sorey, either.

He's tired and overwhelmed, so the usual fight he'd put up is gone. He rests his forehead against Sorey's shoulder and relaxes just enough to be called pliant.]

I tried to come back, [he whispers.] The one time I got close, he stepped in and...

[The memory itself is enough to make him suck in a wincing breath and shudder.]

[monolike]

[Heldalf.

That Heldalf got involved and Dezel didn't turn completely into a dragon... Sorey wants to hug Dezel harder, but the guy is wounded. Probably should dig out a couple gels, actually; Sorey pats down his pockets.]

You're incredibly strong, you know that? [Ah- here's one. He nudges Dezel with his shoulder gently, holding up a grape gel for him to take.] Here; we should probably get moving in case Symonne shows up. Take this and get inside to heal up. [They're going to need each other in top condition if they're going to survive this place long enough to make it back to the others.] For the record, Dezel? If we knew- if we had any idea, if Rose had any idea, we'd have gone to you in a heartbeat. I'm so glad you held out. You're incredible.

[sylphystia]

[He's still pretty out of it. He barely registers Sorey shoving the gel at him, but talking through it helps.] It was-- my fault. I should never have broken the pact. [How can Dezel rejoin now and act like nothing happened? Like he didn't almost get Rose killed? Is he really forgiven? Sorey doesn't seem to be lying, but the others-- they'll probably be angry.

More importantly, Sorey is going to need help getting out of here and Dezel is the only seraph around. He doesn't have time to mope. He has to heal up and fight.

That's fine, he thinks. He's been fighting all his life.]

If you keep buttering me up you're gonna regret it. [He chokes down the gel obediently regardless, then orbs back into Sorey to curl up for a while.]

Besides, I didn't hold out. I tried to eat you.

[monolike]

[Give him a minute.

Sorey crouches there on the ground, a hand pressed to his chest, eyes closed as he just revels in the feeling of Dezel inside of his soul again. He needs to grab his sword and get moving but he just- he has to have this moment. He has to take the time to compose himself, to readjust so he's not yo-yoing between giddy and desperately clingy while they're trying to survive.

It's both wonderful and terrible, being responsible for other people in this way. Sorey has never felt so strong and protected, but he's also never been so scared in his life.]

I must've looked tasty. Mikleo always did say I am what I eat. Of course, [pushes himself up with a grunt and goes to fetch his sword,] that's when I was begging him for ice cream every other day.

You all right in there? [No fighting for room against Zaveid? Sorey doesn't know how it goes with multiple seraphim of the same element, but he feels fine at least. Better than fine. Then again, Dezel has some kind of vendetta against Zaveid anyway...he might be hurt that they brought him into the fold.]

[sylphystia]

I'm fine.

[He doesn't laugh at Sorey's joke, but not for lack of trying. He's just... so tired. He's going to need a rest after this and not just in Sorey's happy little heart. He can tell, a little, that Sorey is trying to calm himself down. He's overwhelmed just like Dezel is.]

Zaveid made the pact?

[That must be who this is. He can feel the thread.]

... I guess I should've expected that, after he handed over that gun.

[He's not going into a screaming fit. Being replaced? That's... well, that's just life. He left them first.]

[monolike]

Then you definitely know him better than I did. I had no idea he'd try to join up with us. [Sorey hadn't been particularly welcoming either, something he's not ashamed of, but wish he'd done differently. Zaveid had been trying to help in his own awkward way. They just...hadn't been able to accept it.]

He approached us, actually. Just outside Pendrago. [So, yeah. The very definition of 'too soon,' but considering the world is at stake they didn't have the luxury of taking the time to properly mourn.] Rose said you'd told her that if we didn't keep going, you'd...what was it? Kick our asses? [oooh he said a bad word]

[sylphystia]

You didn't have anyone else. He's a pain in the ass, but he's not stupid. He saw you needed help.

[He stretches his awareness out a little. He's recovering fairly quickly thanks to Sorey's pure domain. There's a sort of bone-deep exhaustion that won't go away until they've properly rested, but it's nothing he can't handle. Not with Sorey at his side.

... God, it feels good to know that. To know he isn't alone. To know he's-- valued. He still can't quite believe it, and he probably won't believe it until he's back with the others.]

Don't swear.

[DEZEL YOU JUST--]

[monolike]

Hahaha, sorry. [He doesn't really like swearing either, but he thought that might rattle Dezel a little bit. The atmosphere's a little too heavy right now.

Sorey gazes around at the floating, crumbling platforms around them and makes a decision, sheathing his sword.] Are you strong enough to help me make the jump over to that platform over there? I think I can climb that wall back up to the main walkway if I'm careful.

[sylphystia]

[It's true. Dezel realizes that, probably, but it's still weird hearing bad words coming out of Sorey's mouth. He's way too pure. Mikleo is the ten percent meaner twin.]

I'm good for it. Let's go, Shepherd.

[He concentrates and gives Sorey a little boost. He'll feel his feet are lighter and swifter than usual, which only serves to help propel them across the gap.]

[monolike]

[Sorey's never said anything aloud, for fear of hurting anyone's feelings, but Zaveid and Dezel's wind is completely different. He'd almost lost himself once; he'd gotten so used to how Dezel controlled the wind with featherlight touches, razor precision, piercing and lilting that when Zaveid came along with this thousands of years of knowledge and his brute-force gusts that Sorey was almost bowled over. It had taken a lot of adjusting, and it made Sore almost sick with heartache, missing Dezel as fiercely as a prisoner misses fresh air.

Sorey lights on the platform as gently as if he'd been carried there and he almost cries. The breath he sucks in is shuddering and grateful, and his eyes sting though the tears down fall. He doesn't say anything but he knows Dezel must feel it, the way Sorey's heart beats with the sound of home, home, home like he was born to be Dezel's vessel.

The crumbling rock wall is less than ideal as a ladder but Sorey is slow and careful, testing his handholds as he pulls himself up.]

Dezel...I don't know- gh- I don't know if you want to come with us to fight Heldalf. If you don't- if you don't, that's fine. The plan we have is kind of an 'end of the line' thing. [Sorey sniffs.] I'm probably not going to be coming back from it for a while, at least.

[sylphystia]

[Sorey's having trouble with his emotions, and even a blind man can tell. It's in the way Sorey's breath hitches, in the way he furiously blinks as if to will the tears away, in the desperate, faintly-trembling fingers gripping at the wall. Dezel halfway considers orbing out just to help him up, but he decides against it. Sorey will need him if he starts to fall.]

Don't be stupid. [The words are somehow less sharp than they seem.] I'm not scared of what he can do to me. I never was. [In the end, what turned him was the fear of what Heldalf could do to Sorey and Rose, and everyone else.]

... You going somewhere?

[monolike]

Well, then plan is to bring down Heldalf, [oops, that handhold is crumbling, better side-leap to another one, catch him please] and then I'll be Maotelus' vessel to purify him. The others want me to- to use Siegfried against Heldalf, but I'd r-really rather not. If- oof- if it can be avoided.

[sylphystia]

[Dezel gives Sorey a foot up via a puff of air. He's not going to fall. Dezel won't let him, or anyone. The wind trial had proven that, hadn't it?

... Using Siegfried against Heldalf, that's... risky. Dezel makes a soft noise of disapproval. Being shot out of that gun hadn't been a pleasant experience, and in fact, any one of them could actually die if they're too badly injured.]

You... want to become Maotelus' vessel?

[Maotelus is already corrupted. He's gotta be a dragon half the size of the world by now, and Sorey thinks he can tame him?]

Sorey-- you'll be giving up your life. You realize that, right?