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Lute
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I'm not overstating for dramatic effect here - I'm afraid to tell you how I am in this carriage here right now without anyone being able to see me. If I tell you I'll get caught. Best to just leave it at that. As it is, I'm starting to feel better right now. We left Radia in the evening, got to Audiva Rocale in the morning via the Poet King's time magic. So while I've been in Audiva Rocale all day here, I've been in Radia as well, the entire time. We're used to stuff like that, mind you, but it still creates a strain. Existing a couple places at once is just hard on the body and the mind. We're trained to take it. We in the Shadow division are the most likely to have to do it, after all. Now we've actually made it past the time when we left Radia, though - which means there's only one of me at once. That's how I like it. It feels better, and I'm a Pure Armed, so the time stuff confuses me more than it would a Mixed.
This here is a nice carriage. Lots of black, but the Xaillyndessen tend to like black. Fair enough, they all look good in it. Pale, but good. And I like black too. I look good in it. Well, I think I look good. Most other people, they just can't see me in it. And I like that.
Nice wooden interior with black lacquer, black velvet curtains, plush wine-red carpet. Leather seating in the main riding compartment, with a rather spacious bed area through the back door. Two small beds back there in stacked bunks, so I suppose Jhe Thelea and Jhe Xen don't feel like bridging their relationship beyond the professional. Or perhaps they prefer to do it in the road. Hey, people have done crazier things. And the hell of it is, well - it's their country.
One tiny front room that has the tidiest, snuggest kitchen I've ever seen. The whole carriage is pretty damn big. They've got eight horses - fashionably black - out in front, though only six hitched up to pull it. The other two are for riding, I reckon.
So yeah, then there's Aaren. I suppose this is kind of like a family reunion for him, what with Thelea and Xen being right in here with him. And me, of course, in an undisclosed location in this itty-bitty room. I feel sort of like a magician. A magician with a tiny, tiny audience. Boy am I creeped out. I've been in some tight spots before, but all jokes about your mother aside, this has been the tightest of 'em. I don't know how I'll get out of here. I don't know if I'll live through this. But I do know that I'm gonna watch just what in the world is going on in here. Finding out what the hell your comrade's doing being dragged off and sat up in the enemy's carriage is pretty damn motivating, when it comes down to reasons to pay attention.
He's not tied up, you see. Thelea keeps brushing his hair out of his eyes and checking his forehead, as if she were his mother. She's not, we know that - he's a distant cousin or nephew of hers. Just as Jhe h'Logos is related to Xen distantly. And then there's Xen, just sitting next to Aaren and looking at him as if Xen knows a very hilarious secret about him. Finally, the Kommissar stops posing and leans over, reaching for Aaren's chin. He turns the boy to face him.
"Very nice, Aaren my son, but you can stop pretending to sleep now."
I almost fall out of my hiding place. My blood's rushing so fast in my ears that I can't hear for a few moments. Aaren? The Kommissar's son? Does Dad know that? How could the Jhe h'Akribastes not know that? But how could the Judge know that and still let Aaren work in our division? I feel betrayed. Not really by Aaren - by Dad. He should have told us. He should have known one of us would find this out on our own.
Of course, maybe he didn't know Aaren's true heritage. If he didn't...
Aaren opens his eyes. He didn't even flinch at the Kommissar's voice. He'd know it well, wouldn't he? "Father." He blinks up at his Father with those clear blue eyes. The Kommissar smiles down at him, then removes his hand from Aaren's chin. Huh. Right next to each other, they do look kinda alike. Looks like whoever Aaren's mother was, she managed to influence his looks just as much, though. They both have short black hair, but Aaren's hair is coarser and shaggier, and the Kommissar's is neatly-styled. Their eyes have the same shape, but Xen's are dark, almost brown, closer to black. Xen's a whole lot taller than Aaren is, even seated as they are like this. Aaren's pale as all fuck, but Xen looks like he could tan pretty well without turning into a dainty, crispy fairy. Not that Aaren's ever done that on a vacation. Not that I made fun of him for just that thing until he punched me sick in the guts.
I'm feeling sick right now, but it's not from that memory. It's just...well, he was my friend. And still is. Maybe. He'd better not be a traitor. If he's a fucking traitor, I'm going to fucking stab him. Right in the nuts.
Well, okay, I stab friends sometimes too. It's a different kind of poke, though. More... survivable.
Xen smiles, the corner of his mouth tucking up into his cheek like a concealed dagger. "Aaren? Honey? Why don't you ever write?" The voice is sing-song, mocking - but there's something deeper to this. Serious.
"I haven't had a chance to send something that wouldn't be screened." Aaren says it calmly, almost serene. "They're around a lot, you know. They watch me. I make friends." That sounds like it's almost a warning to Xen.
"I see." Xen's face is unreadable, though I can see just a touch of patronly sternness in it.
"Nothing's been of note, in any case. This is my first big mission as an Armed. And, well," Aaren shrugs, "I kind of got taken out pretty early on, so I can't tell you too much." There's the unsaid 'great going there, DAD' that I would have said, had it been my father. Of course, I'm getting the feeling that Aaren and I might have had quite different upbringings. He looks very relaxed and calm in that way that's actually tense as all hell. It's like he's in a fencing match.
"Oh, my apologies. I felt, as you were Armed now, that you would have the necessary reflexes to survive on your own." The Kommissar crosses his arms, looking down his nose at Aaren. "And how has that gone? Do you have them?"
Aaren breaks eye contact, looking straight ahead instead. "Have what?" he says with forced calm.
"Arms. Show me them. You're on a mission now, you're the real thing. You should have Arms by this point." Xen's voice is stony as well, but colder, with a steel edge to it. I'm starting to fear that Aaren's going to die. Hell, someone's going to die - the Kommissar just commanded someone to drop Arms, like he had a right to make that command.
My friend's face pales even more as he forces a calm, even expression. He even smiles a little. "Yes, Father, I am Armed now. If I show you them--"
"I'm protected," Xen says, his voice dead cold. "I fear none of the Judge's tools. I of all people shouldn't have to. Show me them."
Aaren bites his lip. I can't imagine what this decision must feel like. If he's not some chicken-ass, backstabbing traitor, then he's trying to pretend he is while surviving this mission to get back to Radia and report in. If he's a fucking traitor...well, he's scared to kill his boss/Dad. Actually, I know how that latter thing feels, as an Armed Akribastes. So, maybe I'm the one who can sympathize with Aaren the most, if I really want to feel sympathy for him in this situation. You know, I really do. Either way. I'm still his friend even if he's working for the other side. I think that's right and honorable. It should be me that kills him, if it comes down to it.
"Show me," says the Kommissar, his voice getting a dangerous edge to it. Heck, at this point I kinda wanna drop my Arms. That'd result in disaster, though. Hmm. Maybe I should do it, at that...
Aaren interrupts any really cool but way tragic fights I'm about to instigate by closing his eyes, saying "Yes, sir," and laying Schiphael very calmly across his own lap. (Guy's got steel balls. I don't often rest my Arms too near the family jewels.) He's got the calmest face in the world. There's silence in the carriage for a moment. Then, Aaren breaks it. "Father, he'll kill her if you let her stay in this carriage any longer."
It's like someone's just fingered the hairs on the back of my neck like piano keys. I skirt my eyes around the carriage, trying to figure out how they saw me. But I was so well-hidden! Then I notice that no one's looking at me, they're not even aiming at me, and Aaren's looking down at Schiphael with an intense concentration on his brow. I look at Thelea. She's white as snow, and backing towards the wall. Then she ducks out of the carriage, quick as a contract hit.
Xen raises an eyebrow at the Arms. "She was quiet."
"Justice knows the smell of a rat." Aaren clamps his hand over his mouth. Oh, shit, that was Schiphael talking.
Xen grins like he's got canary feathers lining his tongue. He knows what he's talking to? And he's not about to stick Aaren one through the chest? Holy shit, was he trying to do this all along? "And Justice isn't aiming for its counterpart? How strange that the Kommissar is in no danger, considering what I've done to your kind."
Aaren smirks, the expression not his own at all. I've seen that grin on my Father's face once or twice. I want to shudder every time I see it. It's the single expression that sums up what we all are taught - the Judge is not nice by nature. Quite the opposite, in fact. "The Judge doesn't worry about you, Jhe Xen. It's your job to fuck things up for everyone else. You'll get yourself caught."
Xen cocks his head, intrigued. "Strange. That's not what all the other Arms told me."
Aaren jerks, his Arms showing surprise through him. They're uncomfortable with being unsure of something. Hell, I'm having trouble myself. Other Armed have agreed to present Arms to Xen Xaillyndesse? There's no way. And then I realize what it is.
He's not telling the truth. I can tell through my own Arms. Why can't Aaren? Maybe...maybe he's already too far gone. Maybe he's really turned. How'd he keep his own Arms, if he turned? How has Schiphael not killed him for it? I almost want to ask Schiphael through my Arms, but that would give me away to Aaren.
"That doesn't matter," is all Aaren can reply.
"You won't attack me because it would endanger Aaren." Xen smiles, eyes glinting with malice. "I know how much you love your Armed. You want to protect him. They all did, in the end."
"WHAT did you DO?" Aaren lurches forward in his seat as he barks out the query. It's almost as if he's performing the interrogation, instead of the other way around.
Xen only smiles. "You'll see." He reaches forward slowly, making a point of leaving Schiphael an opening to attack or defend. He's showing off, the cocky bastard. Finally, he cups Aaren's chin. I see Schiphael try to struggle through Aaren as Aaren's shoulders twitch. He's being held still. Is Aaren restraining Schiphael, or is the Kommissar actually capable of restraining an Armed and his Arms with no visible effort whatsoever? What's the Kommissar been doing to those Armed, anyway? I don't know, but it's taking all my effort not to jump out and stop this shit right now.
I whisper in my mind to stay calm. Kuroroi's voice does too, its glacial tones helping to cool my nerves. I can't stand to watch this, but it's all I can do. It's what I must do.
Aaren stares up, his eyes calm, his nerves held back precariously. "What are you going to do?"
Xen smiles brightly. "Only what I must!" He tips Aaren's chin up, exposing his pale neck. "Swear allegiance to me, and the suffering your peers felt won't even happen to you."
"Never," growls Aaren in my Father's voice. Schiphael. That's Schiphael speaking, I remind myself.
Xen keeps his smile, then calmly reaches down and clasps Schiphael's handle. His other hand secures a grip around Aaren's neck. As he squeezes very gently, Aaren finally swallows. The whip twitches. "Now, now." Xen tsks, pulling the whip up, coiling it idly with that one hand. "There's no need for theatrics. You can play nicely like a good doggy. I'm only going to take your toy away for a little bit."
"My toy?" Aaren's eyes stare up very calmly. How can he let go like this? How can Schiphael?
"Your Armed, silly. I'll give him back. Once I'm done with him, that is-" His wrist twists just a little, the hand holding Aaren's neck squeezes, and then Aaren slumps.
The whip immediately slings around Xen's wrist, the bladed end flicking towards his throat. Xen only laughs, jerking his arm around so that the whip loops around it, throwing the trajectory of the knife-end off. It should have hit, dammit. The Kommissar shouldn't be able to dodge that at point-blank range! He does, though - wrapping Schiphael around his arm, then palming the blade in a black-gloved hand.
Fuck. That was tidily done. How was that possible? What's wrong with Aaren? Is he even gonna wake up? Why isn't Xen on the floor in many tiny pieces? All questions that I want answers to. Instead, I just see Xen smack Schiphael's blade against his palm, a content smile on his face.
"Let's introduce you to your friends," he says, then disappears.
Am I fool enough to follow him? It's funny that you ask. I am just idiotic enough to go off and do exactly that.
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