64th of Searing, 120
Some things, it seemed, were just not meant to be. It had taken Arkash years; his entire life, to get where he had been. In one fell swoop, it was all taken from him. All his savings, all the money he would have used to buy his and his father's freedom had been stolen some two weeks ago. In an effort to make up what he lost, Arkash turned to thievery. Thieving led to violence and violence led to murder and wrath.
Now, there was nowhere to run. Arkash had killed a man of a higher caste and bit another barely older than he was. Even though countless lessons enforced the idea that it was wrong of him to use his venom on others, that his instincts were to be fought, his chin hung with clear-red flecks of spit and scraps of cloth. The tang of blood stained his palette.
The Rathari had tasted blood and fear, and for once, it was not his own. There was no remorse, besides the fact that what he'd done would end in his execution. If he could have gotten away with assaulting the savant boy, he would do so many times over.
It wasn't just because Cojack, his dear father, was in trouble, either. Some darker part of him in the recesses of his mind enjoyed the power, the rush. Such a wonderful feeling had always been beyond his grasp, like a forbidden fruit that he'd always denied. That was, until that evening.
Darkness had fallen on Outer Nivenhain, and Arkash had finally stumbled into an Inn with Cojack's bloody, beaten face resting on his shoulders. The Errant Knights that patrolled the roads questioned him, of course, but Arkash merely explained that his father was injured in a tavern brawl. News hadn't caught on just yet, it seemed, as they allowed the two Rath to pass. Who cared if a few nameless had killed one another over a few drinks, after all?
As the light of the Inn filled his vision, the scene became clear. The building was a tavern of sorts, and humans of all shapes and sizes sat among the tables in the foyer. Some were stocky, some were thin. Some were tall, some were short. Dirty and clean, needy and fine. No matter their background or appearance, their eyes settled on the lizard with bloody jaws and the beaten horse that had wandered into their otherwise pleasant night.
Arkash paused, and his yellow eyes glanced about the room to meet the silent glares, but he hadn't the time to deal with them. He searched for one pair of eyes, in particular. The set behind the counter. When he found the woman, a comparatively short human of blonde hair and fair, clean skin, he approached with Cojack resting the majority of his weight into the smaller Rath.
"I need a room," spoke Arkash in the quiet inn with his thick, lowborn common accent.
"No vacancy, love," she spoke simply. Some of the patrons of the bar shifted a bit, and Arkash could have sworn he heard chuckling among them. His keen eyes fell upon the key hooks, many of the rooms were available.
""Ou've got keys 'angin' there," retorted the lizard as he pointed. Something about calling the woman out on her lie made Arkashs heart beat faster, but no venom filled his palette. Perhaps he'd used it all?
The woman looked to the set of keys, then returned her puzzled gaze to the two Rathari. "Those are for people, love, the stables are full." An uproar of laughter followed her mockery as if it were light-hearted banter. Arkash glared at the woman, who laughed with some of the men that sat at the bar. The others that sat there may very well have seen her cruelty as humor, but Arkash saw the repulsion in her eyes. The xenophobic hate.
He hated her too. The longer he stared at her in the chorus of laughter, the darker his thoughts turned. He did hate her. He hated that she was born human, that she was born with a caste, and that she walked over the less fortunate, like himself, as though he was nothing. He thought of the knife on his belt. He thought of the rush he'd experience if he attacked her in front of all those laughing men. The frightened silence, the smell of blood...
Cojack interrupted his warped thoughts with a pull to his sleeve. Arkash looked to the beaten horse as he whispered a weak, "let's just go..."
Arkash looked to the sleeve that Cojack held, and found that his claws held the hilt of the dagger on his belt. The sight was puzzling, as he hadn't meant to grab the knife, but he hadn't drawn it yet. What was he doing? If he attacked the lady there, the gathered men would just kill him. "Alright," replied the lizard as he stepped away from the encounter, and drew a deep breath to steel himself.
As he walked out, the woman called after him. "Wait! If you ask one of the boys, I'm sure they'll move their horse out for yours!" More laughter rolled on, but Arkash paid them no mind. Instead, he pushed through the doors and began to snarl and growl in the temperate night air.
At the first opportunity, Arkash turned into the nearest alley, and led Cojack to a nearby crate, where he sat the older, worn horse. There, he set his bag down and began to fiddle with his medical supplies. The stone walls would do well to shelter them from the harsh, frigid winds, and it wasn't snowing at the time, so Arkash could remain there for a while before he had to light a fire.
Once he'd soaked his rag in alcohol, he pressed the cloth over Cojack's cut brow. The sickly horse hissed in pain and pulled away from the sting. Arkash seized his wrist firmly and stared into the older Rathari's eyes for a long moment or two before he lifted his hold to Cojack's upper arm, where he hung his head. "...I'm sorry, Dad," he exhaled deeply, and fell into silence before he relaxed his grip on the horse, and broke away. "I'm so sorry..." He muttered as tears began to fill his eyes.
Cojack didn't reply immediately as he looked down at the killer his son had become. Instead, he brought his hand to rest on the young Rathari's shoulder, and gently brushed at the fabric of his tunic with his thumb. "Why?" He asked, at last, his voice calm and firm.
"I fucked it all up, I always fuck up!" He cried in Ithmi and leaned forward into his knees as he sobbed. "You were right! I shouldn't have stolen. I shouldn't have ignored Barry or threatened those boys, I-.."
"You did what you had to," hushed Cojack.
Arkash sat, whimpered, and sobbed in a pathetic lump on the Alleyway floor until Cojack shifted his hand to lift Arkash's gaze by the chin. The younger Rath sniffled but looked to his Father's eyes all the same. He didn't see disappointment there, neither did he see any anger or frustration. In Cojack's eyes, he saw compassion, acceptance, and sorrow.
"...You were in an impossible position. That money was everything to you... Wait, no. It wasn't."
Arkash rubbed his eyes into his sleeve and looked to his father with confusion and upset. "What...?"
"I think the money, the trip out of Nivenhain... Neither of them meant as much to you as helping your mom and dad."
Arkash fell silent as a few tears clung to the broken, stretched scales of his cheeks.
"You don't ask about other cities or the world outside of Nivenhain. Even fresh out of your egg, you weren't all that interested. Everything you did, I know you did it for me, for your mother."
What did any of it matter? He wanted to leave Nivenhain too; he hated the wretched city. As long as he was with Cojack, nothing else mattered.
"So, I can't be upset with you, my boy," Cojack smiled, and his eyes began to water in turn. "As much as I wish you hadn't hit Barry with a pipe or bit that Savant boy's arm, you only did it because I was too weak to help you. For that, I am sorry, Arkash."
The lizard shook his head. "No, Dad..." The horse was wrong. He did hate Nivenhain. He hated the humans, the higher castes, all of them. But even so, he couldn't deny some sort of pull, tugging on the borders of his mind. Something deeper than his desire to leave required him to stay where he was. He could ignore it though, despite the building strength of his urges. Cojack was more important. "I want to go with you, we can still go!!" He cried.
Cojack didn't immediately reply. Instead, he sniffled, and carefully dried his tears as they mixed with the dried blood on his cheeks. Arkash collected the rag again and applied more rubbing alcohol before he lifted his claw to the horse's face, and began to clean the dried blood. "We can both just head for the gates right now, they won't catch us. The agents might send their hollows but..."
"No," replied the father, who had yet to meet his son's eyes.
"No?" Arkash asked in turn.
"...We won't make it if I go with you," spoke the older Rathari, and Arkash's heart sank. "So," he added. "You need to run ahead on your own. I'll catch up."
"What do you mean?" Asked Arkash, then his eyes flashed with realization. he continued to work on cleaning Cojack's wounds and the dried blood that clung to the thin fur of his face.
"I mean, you need to run. Get out of the city and hide in the forest outside the walls. I'll make my way over in the meantime. Stay hidden until I make it, okay?"
Cojack had taken quite a beating to the head, and the idea that he might be concussed concerned Arkash, especially if his father was to be traveling alone. Without considering how his question would be taken, he asked a simple. "Is your head okay?" in response to Cojack's instructions.
The older Rathari took hold of Arkash's wrists part-way through his cleaning and stared into his son's yellow eyes with a quirk of his brows. "I'm fine, Ark. You need to go."
"R-right," he stammered and pulled away from his father. At once, he began to gather the alcohol and the rag, but his father spoke over him.
"Forget the bag, I'll get it. You need to run. Now!"
Arkash broke away from the task he'd decided on and stood at once. "Alright, alright... Can you carry all-?"
"I'll be fine! Why are you still here?!" barked the horse, who then broke into a coughing fit.
"Right-! Okay! I'm going!" He called, then turned on the spot, and ran to the other end of the Alley. It would be easier to make it to lower Nivenhain through the alleys, as he wouldn't have to deal with the Errant Knights on his way there.
The gates were far, all the way through Outer Nivenhain, out through Lower Nivenhain and far across town. It would probably take Cojack all day to make it with the weight of his bag, And Arkash would probably need to take a break or two on the way there. But, it was a matter of life and death. If he was too slow, the Hollows would find him. He couldn't waste time.
Some things, it seemed, were just not meant to be. It had taken Arkash years; his entire life, to get where he had been. In one fell swoop, it was all taken from him. All his savings, all the money he would have used to buy his and his father's freedom had been stolen some two weeks ago. In an effort to make up what he lost, Arkash turned to thievery. Thieving led to violence and violence led to murder and wrath.
Now, there was nowhere to run. Arkash had killed a man of a higher caste and bit another barely older than he was. Even though countless lessons enforced the idea that it was wrong of him to use his venom on others, that his instincts were to be fought, his chin hung with clear-red flecks of spit and scraps of cloth. The tang of blood stained his palette.
The Rathari had tasted blood and fear, and for once, it was not his own. There was no remorse, besides the fact that what he'd done would end in his execution. If he could have gotten away with assaulting the savant boy, he would do so many times over.
It wasn't just because Cojack, his dear father, was in trouble, either. Some darker part of him in the recesses of his mind enjoyed the power, the rush. Such a wonderful feeling had always been beyond his grasp, like a forbidden fruit that he'd always denied. That was, until that evening.
Darkness had fallen on Outer Nivenhain, and Arkash had finally stumbled into an Inn with Cojack's bloody, beaten face resting on his shoulders. The Errant Knights that patrolled the roads questioned him, of course, but Arkash merely explained that his father was injured in a tavern brawl. News hadn't caught on just yet, it seemed, as they allowed the two Rath to pass. Who cared if a few nameless had killed one another over a few drinks, after all?
As the light of the Inn filled his vision, the scene became clear. The building was a tavern of sorts, and humans of all shapes and sizes sat among the tables in the foyer. Some were stocky, some were thin. Some were tall, some were short. Dirty and clean, needy and fine. No matter their background or appearance, their eyes settled on the lizard with bloody jaws and the beaten horse that had wandered into their otherwise pleasant night.
Arkash paused, and his yellow eyes glanced about the room to meet the silent glares, but he hadn't the time to deal with them. He searched for one pair of eyes, in particular. The set behind the counter. When he found the woman, a comparatively short human of blonde hair and fair, clean skin, he approached with Cojack resting the majority of his weight into the smaller Rath.
"I need a room," spoke Arkash in the quiet inn with his thick, lowborn common accent.
"No vacancy, love," she spoke simply. Some of the patrons of the bar shifted a bit, and Arkash could have sworn he heard chuckling among them. His keen eyes fell upon the key hooks, many of the rooms were available.
""Ou've got keys 'angin' there," retorted the lizard as he pointed. Something about calling the woman out on her lie made Arkashs heart beat faster, but no venom filled his palette. Perhaps he'd used it all?
The woman looked to the set of keys, then returned her puzzled gaze to the two Rathari. "Those are for people, love, the stables are full." An uproar of laughter followed her mockery as if it were light-hearted banter. Arkash glared at the woman, who laughed with some of the men that sat at the bar. The others that sat there may very well have seen her cruelty as humor, but Arkash saw the repulsion in her eyes. The xenophobic hate.
He hated her too. The longer he stared at her in the chorus of laughter, the darker his thoughts turned. He did hate her. He hated that she was born human, that she was born with a caste, and that she walked over the less fortunate, like himself, as though he was nothing. He thought of the knife on his belt. He thought of the rush he'd experience if he attacked her in front of all those laughing men. The frightened silence, the smell of blood...
Cojack interrupted his warped thoughts with a pull to his sleeve. Arkash looked to the beaten horse as he whispered a weak, "let's just go..."
Arkash looked to the sleeve that Cojack held, and found that his claws held the hilt of the dagger on his belt. The sight was puzzling, as he hadn't meant to grab the knife, but he hadn't drawn it yet. What was he doing? If he attacked the lady there, the gathered men would just kill him. "Alright," replied the lizard as he stepped away from the encounter, and drew a deep breath to steel himself.
As he walked out, the woman called after him. "Wait! If you ask one of the boys, I'm sure they'll move their horse out for yours!" More laughter rolled on, but Arkash paid them no mind. Instead, he pushed through the doors and began to snarl and growl in the temperate night air.
At the first opportunity, Arkash turned into the nearest alley, and led Cojack to a nearby crate, where he sat the older, worn horse. There, he set his bag down and began to fiddle with his medical supplies. The stone walls would do well to shelter them from the harsh, frigid winds, and it wasn't snowing at the time, so Arkash could remain there for a while before he had to light a fire.
Once he'd soaked his rag in alcohol, he pressed the cloth over Cojack's cut brow. The sickly horse hissed in pain and pulled away from the sting. Arkash seized his wrist firmly and stared into the older Rathari's eyes for a long moment or two before he lifted his hold to Cojack's upper arm, where he hung his head. "...I'm sorry, Dad," he exhaled deeply, and fell into silence before he relaxed his grip on the horse, and broke away. "I'm so sorry..." He muttered as tears began to fill his eyes.
Cojack didn't reply immediately as he looked down at the killer his son had become. Instead, he brought his hand to rest on the young Rathari's shoulder, and gently brushed at the fabric of his tunic with his thumb. "Why?" He asked, at last, his voice calm and firm.
"I fucked it all up, I always fuck up!" He cried in Ithmi and leaned forward into his knees as he sobbed. "You were right! I shouldn't have stolen. I shouldn't have ignored Barry or threatened those boys, I-.."
"You did what you had to," hushed Cojack.
Arkash sat, whimpered, and sobbed in a pathetic lump on the Alleyway floor until Cojack shifted his hand to lift Arkash's gaze by the chin. The younger Rath sniffled but looked to his Father's eyes all the same. He didn't see disappointment there, neither did he see any anger or frustration. In Cojack's eyes, he saw compassion, acceptance, and sorrow.
"...You were in an impossible position. That money was everything to you... Wait, no. It wasn't."
Arkash rubbed his eyes into his sleeve and looked to his father with confusion and upset. "What...?"
"I think the money, the trip out of Nivenhain... Neither of them meant as much to you as helping your mom and dad."
Arkash fell silent as a few tears clung to the broken, stretched scales of his cheeks.
"You don't ask about other cities or the world outside of Nivenhain. Even fresh out of your egg, you weren't all that interested. Everything you did, I know you did it for me, for your mother."
What did any of it matter? He wanted to leave Nivenhain too; he hated the wretched city. As long as he was with Cojack, nothing else mattered.
"So, I can't be upset with you, my boy," Cojack smiled, and his eyes began to water in turn. "As much as I wish you hadn't hit Barry with a pipe or bit that Savant boy's arm, you only did it because I was too weak to help you. For that, I am sorry, Arkash."
The lizard shook his head. "No, Dad..." The horse was wrong. He did hate Nivenhain. He hated the humans, the higher castes, all of them. But even so, he couldn't deny some sort of pull, tugging on the borders of his mind. Something deeper than his desire to leave required him to stay where he was. He could ignore it though, despite the building strength of his urges. Cojack was more important. "I want to go with you, we can still go!!" He cried.
Cojack didn't immediately reply. Instead, he sniffled, and carefully dried his tears as they mixed with the dried blood on his cheeks. Arkash collected the rag again and applied more rubbing alcohol before he lifted his claw to the horse's face, and began to clean the dried blood. "We can both just head for the gates right now, they won't catch us. The agents might send their hollows but..."
"No," replied the father, who had yet to meet his son's eyes.
"No?" Arkash asked in turn.
"...We won't make it if I go with you," spoke the older Rathari, and Arkash's heart sank. "So," he added. "You need to run ahead on your own. I'll catch up."
"What do you mean?" Asked Arkash, then his eyes flashed with realization. he continued to work on cleaning Cojack's wounds and the dried blood that clung to the thin fur of his face.
"I mean, you need to run. Get out of the city and hide in the forest outside the walls. I'll make my way over in the meantime. Stay hidden until I make it, okay?"
Cojack had taken quite a beating to the head, and the idea that he might be concussed concerned Arkash, especially if his father was to be traveling alone. Without considering how his question would be taken, he asked a simple. "Is your head okay?" in response to Cojack's instructions.
The older Rathari took hold of Arkash's wrists part-way through his cleaning and stared into his son's yellow eyes with a quirk of his brows. "I'm fine, Ark. You need to go."
"R-right," he stammered and pulled away from his father. At once, he began to gather the alcohol and the rag, but his father spoke over him.
"Forget the bag, I'll get it. You need to run. Now!"
Arkash broke away from the task he'd decided on and stood at once. "Alright, alright... Can you carry all-?"
"I'll be fine! Why are you still here?!" barked the horse, who then broke into a coughing fit.
"Right-! Okay! I'm going!" He called, then turned on the spot, and ran to the other end of the Alley. It would be easier to make it to lower Nivenhain through the alleys, as he wouldn't have to deal with the Errant Knights on his way there.
The gates were far, all the way through Outer Nivenhain, out through Lower Nivenhain and far across town. It would probably take Cojack all day to make it with the weight of his bag, And Arkash would probably need to take a break or two on the way there. But, it was a matter of life and death. If he was too slow, the Hollows would find him. He couldn't waste time.
