Persist II
Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2020 1:52 pm
30th of Ash, 120 - Continued from here.
The trio; Arkash, Asmodei, and Fayeth were stationed atop one of the tall abandoned buildings of Lower Nivenhain that day. They were there primarily to test Arkash's senses, and they'd already found that his sight was greater than it should have been, for a monitor lizard, but subpar to an ordinary human's. His sense of touch was average, but he didn't have the armored scales that most monitor lizard's lived in, which further suggested to Asmodei, the self-proclaimed rathari expert, that Arkash was a Neoalt. Arkash didn't particularly care, but he went along with their schemes and tests all the same. He was asked to describe what he could smell in the area, but the wind interfered with his senses. Still, he listed off what he could, and Asmodei seemed caught up on one of the items in his list.
"Where do you smell the blood?" Arkash thought for a moment, then pressed to his feet and wandered over to the edge of the rooftop. Asmodei was very quick to follow, and even fayeth took an interest. Again, he breathed in through his nose, then pointed a claw to one of the alleyways. outside which, the street trailed deep red. "There, I think some'un wuz kill't recen'ly." He looked to Asmodei with a furrow to his brow. "Can'ya smell i'? There's a lot."
"I can," affirmed Fayeth. "But Asmodei's sense of smell is about as strong as a human's. You have a gifted nose, Arkash," spoke the siltori with a grin, and she lowered her hand to rest on his shoulder.
To that, Asmodei nodded. "It's a pretty strong sense of smell, but that's fairly typical for monitor lizards... just... with their tongues, not with their noses." Asmodei crossed one hand over his front and held his chin with his other. "I did think it was strange that you don't flick your tongue often, but hey. This makes sense." The giant then slapped an open palm with his gauntlet-wrapped fist. "There are a couple more tests we can do to see if you're really a Neoalt, then..." He paused as he looked down at Arkash, who peered off the edge of the rooftop. "Ark?"
The building was tall, among the tallest in Lower Nivenhain. Five flights of stairs had brought them to the roof, and the drop appeared immense from where he stood. If he were to fall then, it wouldn't be such a tragic loss. His sad story would surely come to an end, or he'd wake up in two months paralyzed from the neck down. While his thoughts of self-pity and suicide circled, Fayeth's intuition struck again.
All of a sudden, he was ripped from his thoughts as the hand on his shoulder wrapped itself around his throat, and lifted him off the ground. Unreal, primal panic wracked his body and mind as he was made to dangle off the edge of the building by Fayeth's hand, which gripped him by his skinny neck. He could barely breathe. Fear filled his eyes as he kicked about and searched for the ground, and simultaneously lifted his claws to grip her arm. "Is this what you want, Ark?! You wanna die?!" She more or less screamed at him, and only deepened his terror. "SAY IT AND I'LL MAKE IT EASY FOR YOU!"
The rage in her eyes, the burning hatred. He'd never seen her like that. Though he'd believed that he wanted to die, that he no longer wanted to exist in the world or play its arbitrary game, he found himself terrified of the drop, the fact that Fayeth could just release her grip and end him. "P'-ease..." he choked while he squeezed her arm.
With another explosive burst of fury, she shook him. "PLEASE WHAT?!"
"Stop..." He croaked again. It was becoming increasingly hard to speak. He didn't have much breath left.
"STOP?! JUST LET GO?! IS THAT WHAT YOU SAID?!"
"Fayeth.." Started Asmodei with a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
"Not now, Az. We can barely trust him with a knife. This ends here." With that, she squeezed his neck a little tighter, and Arkash's flailing intensified. "What's it gonna be Ark? Life or Death?"
He wanted to live. He didn't want to die. She was right, he was being foolish. Every self-preservation instinct he had screamed for breath, begged for the safety of the floor. "L-IEF!" he spoke with the last of the air in his lungs and pressed his claws into her skin. She glared at him a moment longer before she hissed, and threw him with force back onto the rooftop.
He tumbled and rolled before he collapsed in a pitiful heap, and began to cry. He wheezed, coughed, and retched. As his system flooded with body-quaking adrenaline, everything began to hurt and a painful headache wormed its way into his skull. There, on the floor, he steadily regained his senses. He was alive, by his own choice. She'd made it easy for him, as she said. All he needed to do was speak a word and it would have been over, but he chose to persist. It was his choices alone that he had to blame or thank for his continued survival.
When the pale siltori knelt before him, Arkash held his tears and stared at her wide-eyed from his sighted side. What came next? "When you make your mind up properly, we'll see you on the street." With that, she stood, and Asmodei fell in at her side. "Whether you take the stairs or jump, I don't care. Just leave your weakness on this roof." He could do little but stare up at her in disbelief as she glared at him from above. As she left, his eye fell upon Asmodei. The avialae looked upon him with remorse for a brief glance before he pressed on to follow the siltori to the stairwell. He was left alone with his thoughts and frayed nerves.
How could she be so cold? He'd just lost his father, his whole world had fallen apart. And she called him weak for it? Did Asmodei feel the same? No, there was pity in his eyes. Though he made an effort to stay Fayeth's wrath, he didn't fight her. Her judgment was law. Arkash coughed again and sputtered flecks of venom, spit, and mucus while he gathered himself. A brush of his sleeve wiped the viscous fluids from his lips, and he swallowed hard to clear the inside of his maw. A deep exhale preceded a sniffle that saw him wipe his tears from his cheek, and he pressed to his shaky feet once more.
In the heat of the moment, he'd chosen to live. But Fayeth offered him a second choice. Of his own will, he could throw himself from the building... Or descend the stairs to rejoin them. Did he want to rejoin them? After a moment of hesitation, he approached the edge of the rooftop and shakily peered over the edge to the street below. Stood on the broken cobble streets was Asmodei and Fayeth, both of whom looked upward at him. They said nothing but anticipated his decision.
Arkash stared back at them with his one yellow eye, then lowered his gaze to the stone street below. If he did jump, what would happen? He'd be left in the open for rats, or thrown into some alley somewhere. Maybe someone would use his scales to make boots or a belt? Asmodei and Fayeth would carry on to do... whatever it was they planned long term. His story would end unresolved in his darkest chapter, and nothing would change. And if he went back to them? They were... Revolutionaries, strong people with the will to force change. They had ideals, codes, honor... So much more than Arkash could ever hope to be. But maybe he could learn from them? They'd supported and built him back up from his lowest, maybe they could help him be more than a spineless weakling?
It was that day that Arkash found a glimmer of light in the darkness, that he considered the future through what he believed to be a realistic lense, unclouded by his pessimism. They hadn't given up on him, but they wouldn't tolerate his whining and weakness any longer. That was fine, he'd learn to stand on his two feet again, he would keep up with them. So, he turned away from the ledge and proceeded to the stairs. A short walk through the ruined, decrepit interior of the leaky, water-damaged building led him to the street, where he stood before Asmodei and Fayeth both. With her arms crossed, Fayeth raised a brow. "So?"
"...I'm sorry," started Arkash.
"Why?"
"I took 'ew fo' gran'ed, both of 'ew." He paused and considered their expressions. "I... thought I'd lost everythin', an' I still kin'a do, but..." Again, he paused. It was difficult to find the words.
"Arkash," spoke Fayeth, and the rathari focused solely on her. Had he said something wrong? After a purse, she continued. "I'm not insensitive to what you're going through, you lost your father quite suddenly. But you have to understand, Asmodei and I have devoted a lot to see your rehabilitation through, we've put in endless hours to help you back to your feet, feed you and nurture you." She began to walk toward him, and Arkash held firm despite the nag of uncertainty that urged him to back away. "So when you behave as though everything is lost, and you have nothing left, we can't help but feel... Sidelined, forgotten." She looked to the ground in a display of sorrow, a string of bait Arkash took with ease.
"No, Fayeth..." He closed the gap with her and brought his claws to her arm, where he saw the marks in her skin, the cuts and scrapes of his claws. "I'm... I kno', I've be'n selfish. I p'omise I won' think like 'at anymore. I'm jus'... I'm really torn up abou' Cojack. I need time t' heal." He looked up to meet her red eyes, which smiled down at him with gratitude. As she drew him into a hug, Asmodei approached from her side and joined the embrace. They didn't say it, but he knew. They'd forgiven him for his selfishness. "Thank 'ew, both of 'ew..." he spoke through a tearful smile.
The trio; Arkash, Asmodei, and Fayeth were stationed atop one of the tall abandoned buildings of Lower Nivenhain that day. They were there primarily to test Arkash's senses, and they'd already found that his sight was greater than it should have been, for a monitor lizard, but subpar to an ordinary human's. His sense of touch was average, but he didn't have the armored scales that most monitor lizard's lived in, which further suggested to Asmodei, the self-proclaimed rathari expert, that Arkash was a Neoalt. Arkash didn't particularly care, but he went along with their schemes and tests all the same. He was asked to describe what he could smell in the area, but the wind interfered with his senses. Still, he listed off what he could, and Asmodei seemed caught up on one of the items in his list.
"Where do you smell the blood?" Arkash thought for a moment, then pressed to his feet and wandered over to the edge of the rooftop. Asmodei was very quick to follow, and even fayeth took an interest. Again, he breathed in through his nose, then pointed a claw to one of the alleyways. outside which, the street trailed deep red. "There, I think some'un wuz kill't recen'ly." He looked to Asmodei with a furrow to his brow. "Can'ya smell i'? There's a lot."
"I can," affirmed Fayeth. "But Asmodei's sense of smell is about as strong as a human's. You have a gifted nose, Arkash," spoke the siltori with a grin, and she lowered her hand to rest on his shoulder.
To that, Asmodei nodded. "It's a pretty strong sense of smell, but that's fairly typical for monitor lizards... just... with their tongues, not with their noses." Asmodei crossed one hand over his front and held his chin with his other. "I did think it was strange that you don't flick your tongue often, but hey. This makes sense." The giant then slapped an open palm with his gauntlet-wrapped fist. "There are a couple more tests we can do to see if you're really a Neoalt, then..." He paused as he looked down at Arkash, who peered off the edge of the rooftop. "Ark?"
The building was tall, among the tallest in Lower Nivenhain. Five flights of stairs had brought them to the roof, and the drop appeared immense from where he stood. If he were to fall then, it wouldn't be such a tragic loss. His sad story would surely come to an end, or he'd wake up in two months paralyzed from the neck down. While his thoughts of self-pity and suicide circled, Fayeth's intuition struck again.
All of a sudden, he was ripped from his thoughts as the hand on his shoulder wrapped itself around his throat, and lifted him off the ground. Unreal, primal panic wracked his body and mind as he was made to dangle off the edge of the building by Fayeth's hand, which gripped him by his skinny neck. He could barely breathe. Fear filled his eyes as he kicked about and searched for the ground, and simultaneously lifted his claws to grip her arm. "Is this what you want, Ark?! You wanna die?!" She more or less screamed at him, and only deepened his terror. "SAY IT AND I'LL MAKE IT EASY FOR YOU!"
The rage in her eyes, the burning hatred. He'd never seen her like that. Though he'd believed that he wanted to die, that he no longer wanted to exist in the world or play its arbitrary game, he found himself terrified of the drop, the fact that Fayeth could just release her grip and end him. "P'-ease..." he choked while he squeezed her arm.
With another explosive burst of fury, she shook him. "PLEASE WHAT?!"
"Stop..." He croaked again. It was becoming increasingly hard to speak. He didn't have much breath left.
"STOP?! JUST LET GO?! IS THAT WHAT YOU SAID?!"
"Fayeth.." Started Asmodei with a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
"Not now, Az. We can barely trust him with a knife. This ends here." With that, she squeezed his neck a little tighter, and Arkash's flailing intensified. "What's it gonna be Ark? Life or Death?"
He wanted to live. He didn't want to die. She was right, he was being foolish. Every self-preservation instinct he had screamed for breath, begged for the safety of the floor. "L-IEF!" he spoke with the last of the air in his lungs and pressed his claws into her skin. She glared at him a moment longer before she hissed, and threw him with force back onto the rooftop.
He tumbled and rolled before he collapsed in a pitiful heap, and began to cry. He wheezed, coughed, and retched. As his system flooded with body-quaking adrenaline, everything began to hurt and a painful headache wormed its way into his skull. There, on the floor, he steadily regained his senses. He was alive, by his own choice. She'd made it easy for him, as she said. All he needed to do was speak a word and it would have been over, but he chose to persist. It was his choices alone that he had to blame or thank for his continued survival.
When the pale siltori knelt before him, Arkash held his tears and stared at her wide-eyed from his sighted side. What came next? "When you make your mind up properly, we'll see you on the street." With that, she stood, and Asmodei fell in at her side. "Whether you take the stairs or jump, I don't care. Just leave your weakness on this roof." He could do little but stare up at her in disbelief as she glared at him from above. As she left, his eye fell upon Asmodei. The avialae looked upon him with remorse for a brief glance before he pressed on to follow the siltori to the stairwell. He was left alone with his thoughts and frayed nerves.
How could she be so cold? He'd just lost his father, his whole world had fallen apart. And she called him weak for it? Did Asmodei feel the same? No, there was pity in his eyes. Though he made an effort to stay Fayeth's wrath, he didn't fight her. Her judgment was law. Arkash coughed again and sputtered flecks of venom, spit, and mucus while he gathered himself. A brush of his sleeve wiped the viscous fluids from his lips, and he swallowed hard to clear the inside of his maw. A deep exhale preceded a sniffle that saw him wipe his tears from his cheek, and he pressed to his shaky feet once more.
In the heat of the moment, he'd chosen to live. But Fayeth offered him a second choice. Of his own will, he could throw himself from the building... Or descend the stairs to rejoin them. Did he want to rejoin them? After a moment of hesitation, he approached the edge of the rooftop and shakily peered over the edge to the street below. Stood on the broken cobble streets was Asmodei and Fayeth, both of whom looked upward at him. They said nothing but anticipated his decision.
Arkash stared back at them with his one yellow eye, then lowered his gaze to the stone street below. If he did jump, what would happen? He'd be left in the open for rats, or thrown into some alley somewhere. Maybe someone would use his scales to make boots or a belt? Asmodei and Fayeth would carry on to do... whatever it was they planned long term. His story would end unresolved in his darkest chapter, and nothing would change. And if he went back to them? They were... Revolutionaries, strong people with the will to force change. They had ideals, codes, honor... So much more than Arkash could ever hope to be. But maybe he could learn from them? They'd supported and built him back up from his lowest, maybe they could help him be more than a spineless weakling?
It was that day that Arkash found a glimmer of light in the darkness, that he considered the future through what he believed to be a realistic lense, unclouded by his pessimism. They hadn't given up on him, but they wouldn't tolerate his whining and weakness any longer. That was fine, he'd learn to stand on his two feet again, he would keep up with them. So, he turned away from the ledge and proceeded to the stairs. A short walk through the ruined, decrepit interior of the leaky, water-damaged building led him to the street, where he stood before Asmodei and Fayeth both. With her arms crossed, Fayeth raised a brow. "So?"
"...I'm sorry," started Arkash.
"Why?"
"I took 'ew fo' gran'ed, both of 'ew." He paused and considered their expressions. "I... thought I'd lost everythin', an' I still kin'a do, but..." Again, he paused. It was difficult to find the words.
"Arkash," spoke Fayeth, and the rathari focused solely on her. Had he said something wrong? After a purse, she continued. "I'm not insensitive to what you're going through, you lost your father quite suddenly. But you have to understand, Asmodei and I have devoted a lot to see your rehabilitation through, we've put in endless hours to help you back to your feet, feed you and nurture you." She began to walk toward him, and Arkash held firm despite the nag of uncertainty that urged him to back away. "So when you behave as though everything is lost, and you have nothing left, we can't help but feel... Sidelined, forgotten." She looked to the ground in a display of sorrow, a string of bait Arkash took with ease.
"No, Fayeth..." He closed the gap with her and brought his claws to her arm, where he saw the marks in her skin, the cuts and scrapes of his claws. "I'm... I kno', I've be'n selfish. I p'omise I won' think like 'at anymore. I'm jus'... I'm really torn up abou' Cojack. I need time t' heal." He looked up to meet her red eyes, which smiled down at him with gratitude. As she drew him into a hug, Asmodei approached from her side and joined the embrace. They didn't say it, but he knew. They'd forgiven him for his selfishness. "Thank 'ew, both of 'ew..." he spoke through a tearful smile.