1st of Glade, 121
Through the snowy streets of Lower Nivenhain, Arkash, more formally known as Derek Egon in his Humanoid Form, made his way to the Outer District. It was a strange thing, to look upon the dilapidated streets from the outside. He'd always looked upon citizens with envy as a hatchling, and watched as they strode through the streets without care while the rest of his caste cowered in the shadows in fear of being struck down by a hollow or one of their own kind.
In those moments, however, he looked upon the nameless while he made his way through. He was the citizen, dressed in fine clothes, walking through the ghetto without care or fear. He knew that if any one of them touched him, they'd be executed. They knew so too, and so they kept a wide berth. Of course, it might have been a different story if he didn't change clothes before entering the city, but even then, he was sure he could fight and kill any number of his fellow caste with ridiculous ease.
[indnet=20]That wasn't something he really had to worry about, though. He was dressed well, well-groomed, and better-fed than a lot of those that he spied. The only thing that set him off from a regular citizen was the pig he led on a leash, the baby Wrogon Wildboar. It was a cattle animal, towing one around no doubt implied he was a farmer or something low born like that. Fortunately for Arkash, even farmers were Citizens of Lorien.
Why was he towing the boar? He'd been training the beast in the woods with Asmodei, and the swine threw up. He believed it was sick, but Asmodei suggested otherwise. The two had gotten into a fight over something menial and nonsensical, and he opted to head into the city alone as a result. Even half an hour after the spat, he maintained his begrudging anger at the Velsign. Alas, he had to compose himself a little, as he soon approached the gate that barred him from the rest of Nivenhain's Citizens. There, stood a pair of Chevalier with their hollows at their sides. Arkash looked between them, and cleared his throat of the leftover venom and mucus that his rathor form had left, and swallowed.
"Halt," spoke the knight in crystal clear common. Arkash paused and pulled hard on the lead to stay the pig. "Advance one pace to be recognized," they ordered. Arkash's gaze fixed squarely on the hollows at the order, and his legs turned to lead. "Sir," the knight called, and Arkash's heart raced.
[indnet=20]"I'm... I'm sorry," he spoke in his best common with a ragged breath. "The hollows," he clarified with a bow of his head, and choked a breath.
The Chevalier merely laughed with a glance at his colleague and took a few paces toward the 'guised rathor. "Foreigner, eh?" he asked as he looked his fellow human up and down.
Arkash furrowed his brow and focused squarely on the knight. "Do I sound like a foreigner?" Indeed, his common accent was spot on Rien, and most of the lowborn in his dialect had been expunged. "Derek Egon, twenty-three, Lustrian," he recited, then handed the knight a scroll.
The Chevalier accepted the declaration of naturalization, then nodded his head a bit. "Recently-made Lustrian," he affirmed while reading over the contents. "That's why you're jumpy about the hollows then, aye." To the nameless, the hollows were a symbol of death and oppression. They were the executioners that descended upon Lower Nivenhain whenever one of them stepped out of line, like his mother, like himself. Arkash nodded a bit, then accepted the scroll as the knight handed it back to him. "Nothing to be scared of, kid. Stay out of trouble and they'll stay clear of you. You get used to them," he assured, and pat the disguised rath on his shoulder.
"...Please move them," he asked sheepishly.
Again, the knight laughed and shook his head. "Come on, don't worry about it," the argent assured, then put an arm around Arkash's back and motioned him closer to the gate. Arkash tried to hold fast, but the knight was miles too strong.
"Wait," Arkash started as his heart began to pick up and his breathing quickened. The knight didn't wait. "WAIT!" he cried and turned to bolt. The Pig followed with him as he slipped beneath the knight's grasp.
Surprised, the knight looked to his hand and furrowed his brow beneath his helm. "Slippery thing," he spoke, mirroring all the knights Arkash had killed in days gone by. "Kid, this is the only way through, and we can't move the hollows," the Argent spoke definitively. Arkash took a moment to catch his breath while his heart raced. He didn't even look in their direction while tears welled in his eyes. Part of him wanted to run, to forget about the pig's medicine and leave the gate behind, but another part of him stood firm, resolute. It wavered, but it was there.
"Okay," he spoke with a nod, and his heart sank. "Okay, I'll do it," he swallowed and tried to catch his breath before he turned around to face the dogs and their teeth alike.
The knight grinned and shook his head. Arkash hated that smile. He knew the terrible things those monsters had done to him and his kind, but they still paraded them around freely. The false human swallowed hard and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Come on," the knight spoke with some glimpse of pity and extended his hand to the neoalt.
Arkash's hands were sweaty, his body trembled and his mouth was dry. He didn't want to, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself to move, he couldn't. He wanted to cry. "If needs be..." The Chevalier started with a deep breath and a sigh, "then you can close your eyes and I'll walk you and the Wrog through," he spoke before he peered at the false human's eyepatch. "Er... Eye. Close your eye," he corrected, earning a brief chuckle from his colleague.
Arkash's lips wavered at the offer, but he quickly nodded all the same. He was too weak to do it himself, he needed help. The knight stepped forward and took him by the hand as offered. Arkash held fast, then looked up at the Chevalier with concern. He'd not touched a knight without the intent to kill them before. "Alright," came the Argent, "now close your eye." With a begrudging exhale, Arkash lidded his eyes, then quickened his breathing as he was pulled forward. His heavy leg hesitated but took a step forward all the same.
After the first, more steps followed. One after the other, he was pulled toward the source of all his nightmares. His legs straightened, but he still willed his body to step as the knight dragged him on. Behind him, the Wrog followed the rath. He clutched the lead tight as the beast squealed and oinked on its way by.
Closing his eyes, admittedly, helped. He couldn't see the hollows approaching, he couldn't tell when he was close to them, but he did have a good idea in his mind's eye. He focused hard to imagine when he was close, and his knees locked in response. "What now?" Asked the knight. "We've already passed them, just a few more steps and you're good," they assured most persuasively.
If that was the case, then that meant that Arkash was nearby the hollows at that moment. His hand tightened around the gauntlet, and his legs loosened considerably. With ease, the Argent walked him the rest of the way through the gate, then stopped some couple dozen steps away. Arkash flexed his brow in confusion, he didn't need to be that far, did he? Unless the Knight wasn't leading him beyond the wall, and instead lured him somewhere else...? Naturally, Arkash's mind went to the worst-case scenario, but opening his eyes didn't reveal that. He was in Outer Nivenhain, a dozen paces or so from the gate. Arkash looked back, startled, then reeled a bit with a few happy trots from the boar in tow. The knight laughed a breath or two, and let the disguised rath's hand go. Arkash furrowed his brow. "You said we were already past them."
"I lied," the knight spoke with a shrug. "You figured we were close to them with your eye closed, I had to convince you otherwise," he spoke with a turn of his gauntlet-clad palm.
Arkash shuddered, then looked to his free hand, the one that had held onto the knight's gauntlet for dear life. "...Was I?"
"-Close to them?" The knight asked in affirmation. "Right on top of them, kid. 'Couldn't just tell you that, could I?" Certainly not, the young rath would have burst into panic at such a revelation.
The disguised rath laughed a scoff at that, then bowed his head. Should he have been angry? Grateful? A knight had never done anything so nice for him before, but then, he'd always been a nameless lizard. The knight wouldn't have been so nice to him if he was his real self, even if he wasn't a publicly known anarchist revolutionary and the lizard that killed Catherine Florent. "...Thank you," he spoke with a careful nod, still starstruck. "What's your name, Sir?"
The knight grinned a bit, he could see the glint of his eyes under his helm. "Hildebrand," he spoke with a bow of his head. "Volker Hildebrand. Is there anything else you need, Derek?"
Volker Hildebrand, the name ran circles in his head. He would kill that man someday, he supposed. So, he resolved to hate him. "No, thank you," he returned with a gentle smile, then bowed. "I appreciate your help," he affirmed, then looked to the Wrog and tugged on the leash a bit to guide them along. "Come on, pig," he spoke with a click of his tongue and turned away from the knight and the scene both. As he walked along, however, he felt the Knight's eyes follow him, and the uncomfortable dread that he might have stirred suspicion squeezed his chest tight.
