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year 5, quarter 3
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Mateus had been correct. A self pleased smile spread as he watched the nameless one enjoy the sliver of fillet he had gifted the man. He wondered if the man had ever enjoyed such a thing before the way his face was reacting. The man was having a reaction the one would normally find from finding a piece of art that overwhelmed the senses or a more carnal pleasure. Mateus hid his smile behind his palm as he looked away from the man out into the restaurant. He wondered if any of the others in the place would have had the same reaction.
Still the sensations passed and the man turned stoic as Mateus waited to see how he would take his offer. He began to feel foolish as the man stayed his own hands and a flash of anger passed over him. How and why would someone refuse such an offer? Mateus lips pursed in the moment, but undid themselves as the Warrior began to reply at last. The anger and fire in his eyes passed just as quickly as they came, and he gave his attention to the man's words and lack of action.
"A self proclaimed purpose or one forced upon you?" Mateus questioned quietly as the man seemed to struggle with his speech. He was thankful that man's face was easier to read then the actual words he was saying. When the man squeezed his hand, Mateus grimaced and turned his gaze downward as he felt the pressure applied too forcefully. His first instinct was to zap at the overbearing firmness, but he forced the feeling down. He remained quiet until the warrior was finished with his speech and plea and the over strong handshake turned limper more willing..
Mateus remained silent and the air felt thick and heavy between them. Mateus returned his gaze to the warrior's icy blue eyes and tried to gleam all the information he could from them. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he looked into them, and he did his best to repress it as he continued boring into them. In practicality, what the man asked was trivial, just a rapport of who he was and what he had done. Still, Mateus felt his tongue still and his throat dry. What would the warrior have to say about his life here and back in Palamecia. Mateus swallowed hard as the words struggled to come out, "Such intimate conversations requires a more intimate setting wouldn't you agree?"
Mateus pulled out his sack of coins and placed an abundant amount on the table enough to take care of the meal and enough the server would not have to worry for the rest of the day. "Come," Mateus waved the warrior to follow as he stood. He trusted the man would follow so he did not look or wait as he began to exit the building. The sun had begun to dip low behind some of the taller buildings of the area. He waded through the throngs of people making their way about until the sight of hotel came into view once more. Mateus waved behind him once more as he climbed the stairs to the room he had been staying in. He produced the key and bid the warrior in.
For him, it was comfortable compared to what he was used to from this world. Mateus cast a look to the warrior to see if he would be taken by the luxury of it all. A luxury he was putting on the table for the man. Mateus closed and locked the door behind him. The main attractions of the room were the oversized bed with more than enough room for three individuals lets alone himself. A large vanity with a large circular mirror was covered with the jewels and makeup he had been able to acquire sat near the bed with a over-plumped stool as the seat. Across from the vanity was a bookshelf filled with books Mateus hadn't touched yet. The door to the bathroom was open showing a claw-foot bath in its center. The room was complimented by a walkout balcony with two chairs and a small table overlooking the busy street below.
"Make yourself comfortable," Mateus said as he made his way over to the vanity sitting on the stool. He looked into the mirror at his own beauty for a moment taking the brush to his hair as he thought of how to begin his tale. Things were so different now. Mateus sighed a deep sigh as he kept his back to the warrior. He began undoing the jewels in his hair and detangling the elaborate setup of it all as he began to talk. "The past. Should we be burdened by such a thing. What was was, and what we have is the now." He mused on the idea as he continued undoing his hair. "But, I'll indulge you. I wonder what you'll think when the tale is done."
Mateus' hair fell straight and long down his back, a brilliant splay of blonde with purple tips, as he pushed all the hair from his shoulder back. He didn't understand why he was so reluctant to tell the man about himself. His flight instinct protested every time he opened his mouth. Was it because he had not allowed himself to be so open and frank with someone like this in so long? He persevered as he began wetting a towel. "Do you believe people are what they've done or do you think they are what they are currently striving for? We both know we're not from this world. I hail from a land called Palamecia: my homeland and my empire." He let the news of his own royalty settle as he wiped away at his makeup before speaking again.
"I was made emperor when I was just a man of eighteen. My father passed suddenly. I was no prepared for the reigns of a kingdom let alone the empire he had begun founding. You see our world was much like this one fragmented between different kingdoms and citiy-states. It needed unification even if those kingdoms did not agree. To unify the land, I needed power and power was I granted. Funny how people use the phrase, "to make a deal with the devil" if only they knew how willing Satan is to make such deals and what the price is." Mateus dabbed at his eyeshadow as he let the man think about what he just said. He didn't really think the man would trust him if he said how his father had died, and some details were best left blurry.
"Still, as hard as I tried to bring advancement and a united world, there were those who would rebel against the idea. Princess Hilda," the venom still lingered as he spoke her name. Her and those three meddlesome rebels. The more he tried to remember who they were the further they slipped from his mind's grasp much like every time he tried to think of them. "Hilda believed that every kingdom should be free even if that price meant staying undeveloped and ignorant of the world and advancement. An idea which birthed a rebellion against my empire. The Wild Rose Rebellion they called themselves. A weed of ignorance I needed to eradicate." Mateus wiped the shimmering lipstick for his lips.
"Weeds are harder to pull than one would assume. My armies and empire suffered great losses at the hands of three youth under Hilda's hand. Still, just when I believed I had the troublemakers in the palm of my hand, I lost everything and awoke in this world." Mateus looked at himself in the mirror. His face was still sharp and his bones jutted in beautiful angles, but without the dramatic visage painted on him he was forced to look at himself as he was. "No power. No aim. Nothing. I had lost my dark magic and my home. A fall from grace and power. I was just a normal man." It was true. That's all he had been since he came here. Here was just another person in the sea of strange otherworldly faces. A fate he was still unsure how he felt about.
"You speak of betrayal and your hesitance because of it. Although I don't believe I've been as deeply deceived as you have, there was one man whose agenda has been his and his alone. A mage named Kuja was the first soul I came across in this world. Our first meeting he proved helpful explaining how the world worked and which way I could find civilization and a start to finding answers." He stopped for a moment looking into the mirror hoping to catch the warrior's reaction. "After that I've had many an adventure in this strange world including meeting you, the last of which was ascending the tower we spoke of early. I won't lie, I had selfish desires approaching it. I was promised, and power is what I found there, but" he cast his gaze downward feeling ashamed, and odd and awful sensation he hoped would pass quickly, "I lost the one who had helped me acquire it, the maiden I mentioned earlier. Still, after this I happened across Kuja once more. Although he claimed he wished to advise me, it was clear he was more interested in the power I had acquired than my ideas or helping me. I'm not so easily fooled despite what others may think. We parted on less than friendly terms."
Mateus gave his unadorned vulnerable self another look in the mirror before turning on the stool to the Warrior. "I doubt he has good intentions for such power." He looked at the floor and the walls, anywhere the man wasn't. His flight response had returned at full force, and the feeling of shame still lingered in his stomach. "This world, the trials I've seen and been through, it's changed some of my opinions on some things and ideas," he mumbled realizing how true the words were. Would the Emperor of Palamecia ever have entertained this ordeal and chatter with one so beneath him, ever lowered his mask or felt anything for another person? He felt strange and weird, and he didn't like it at all. He felt sick and vulnerable.
"If the past is something you feel binds us and my sordid past offends," Mateus continued in his hushed downwards tone, "feel free to say so. You'd still be welcome to pass the night here and be gone in the morning's light. Still," he finally lifted his face to look at the warrior with a mix of fear and regret. He had laid his cards on the table and he wondered if the man would play it. "Your decision is yours."
Mateus appeared to be thinking over the Warrior’s plea. Something in the air had changed between them -- as if they had both simultaneously cast off their cheery personas in order to peel back at the truth. Under the surface, the knight had come to be more complicated in his emotions and demands than he ever had been before with the noble. For the first time, he asked for more than just Mateus’s attention. And the handsome noble had fallen quiet as well, his eyes suddenly piercing and thoughtful.
The knight stared into that gaze, entranced, almost certain he could see what Mateus was thinking if he would just stare a little longer.
For the first time, it seemed that the Warrior of Light had left the mysterious noble struggling for words. Finally, Mateus broke the silence in the air, requesting that they relocate to a more intimate setting. The knight quietly agreed, releasing his grip on the man’s fair hand. As Mateus dropped a generous portion of golden coins on the table, the Warrior stood and collected his things -- aching for his sword and helm to be attached to his side. He felt nervous, in a way. He truly wished that this meeting would serve the two of them well.
After all, he truly wished to help Mateus with his cause. It was similar to, if not exactly the same, as his own.
The Warrior silently followed the noble’s casual wave of the hand, more than used to following a man of higher stature obediently. It was the life of a loyal knight, after all. The sun had dropped considerably since they’d been in the building, and as the Warrior walked behind Mateus, his armor clunking on the stone paths, he couldn’t help but admire the way the golden-orange light danced across the man’s blonde hair. In a past life, perhaps, the nameless man wouldn’t have noticed such a thing on a person. But, in this land where he was free from the shackles of fate, he was beginning to learn. Beginning to see the enchanting beauty of mankind. Taking a moment, but just a moment, to try and imprint it on his untrustworthy memory.
The pair did not travel far through the crowds before stopping at an Inn, Mateus producing a key and leading him inside of the room. Or, well, was it a room? It was bigger than most houses the Warrior had been inside of back in Cornelia. His light blue eyes traveled from one wonder to another, taking in the large, colorful bed, the fine craftsmanship of the furnishings, the sheer overwhelming beauty of it all. He stared around the room for a moment with the innocence of a child, wondering if he’d ever seen a place with such elegant furnishings before.
Well, perhaps. The hotel room Mateus had been staying in during their stint in Sonora was dark, by the time the Warrior had gotten him there. Had it been as large and illustriously beautiful as well?
The nobleman requested that the nameless man make himself comfortable, and so he attempted to do so. He propped his beloved sword up against the wall near the door, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible. He left his helm there as well, casting one last, longing look at the set of horns before wandering away from the entryway. The Warrior wanted Mateus to see, to feel that he was trusting him, at least thus far. The kindness and friendship that the noble had extended him so far … he felt that it was more than genuine.
Yet, something in the back of his mind clawed at him -- don’t trust Mateus, don’t trust Mateus.
The Warrior wandered towards the balcony, taking in the sight of Torensten from such a beautiful frame. The city had recovered well from Chaos’s attack, as well as Kuja’s betrayal. For that, the knight was eternally grateful, as it helped to ease the overwhelming guilt he felt when he recalled the screams of the innocent people he’d failed to save.
Thankfully, he was quickly pulled from such a dark place by the smooth tones of Mateus’s voice. The knight turned, watching as the noble began to remove the mesmerizing, colorful beads from his golden hair.
"The past. Should we be burdened by such a thing. What was was, and what we have is the now…. But, I'll indulge you. I wonder what you'll think when the tale is done."
The Warrior stood still, watching and listening to his friend’s tale, just out of sight of the mirror. Mateus released his long, dazzling hair as he clearly mused of his words, and the knight’s blue eyes began unintentionally looking for answers within the captivating sight. His armor suddenly felt too heavy for the atmosphere, and though he normally clung to it for safety, for normalcy, he wished to discard it. He couldn’t, it would be rude as this wasn’t his living space, but he felt … out of place. Disrespectful, maybe.
He let himself be distracted, instead, by Mateus’s words. "Do you believe people are what they've done or do you think they are what they are currently striving for? We both know we're not from this world. I hail from a land called Palamecia: my homeland and my empire."
An interesting question, and a more interesting revelation. The Warrior of Light, of course, truly believed people were not always what they had been in their past lives. That was how he saw his own nemesis, the man who knew him even better than he knew himself, Garland. Lifetime after lifetime, the Warrior strove to save Garland from their fate to cross swords and end one another’s lives. Eventually, it worked -- the revered, humble knight of Cornelia was bathed in light and was able to live life normally once more.
He’d even met Garland, recently, and the man was not the slave to Chaos and the cycles that he once was. Anyone could change … They simply needed to try.
Perhaps the Warrior should have been surprised to hear that Mateus once ruled an empire. Palamecia; it sounded familiar in a way, as if he’d spoken it before, yet he could not have. He’d never been to such a place. The knight mulled it over as the once-emperor continued, taking a towel to the make-up on his face, and wiping it away as easily as a bad memory.
Mateus had been made an emperor at such a young age, it seemed. The nameless man was, honestly, a bit unfamiliar with that was normal at what age … He could not remember his own youth, if there was one to remember. It sounded as if Palamecia truly did reflect this world in a way, fragmented and scattered, and Mateus had taken it upon himself to attempt to unify the separate states.
A deal with the devil, the Warrior mused, frowning. No, he knew well what the emperor spoke of. Perhaps they had no being called Satan, but Cornelia had its own devil in hiding -- Chaos. Garland surrendered himself to the power of Chaos and the Four Fiends, in order to make things his own. Had Mateus taken a similar path? For a moment, the knight’s heart ached for him.
Power did terrible things to people, at times.
Mateus revealed that his attempts to unite his empire were thwarted time and time again by a group of rebels. Surely, if Cornelia attempted to take over the other kingdoms in their land, they would befall the same type of fate. The Warrior had traveled to the other kingdoms, had seen how independant and different they were from Cornelia. But the way Mateus spoke of the group -- weeds that he needed to eradicate. Such harsh words seemed to be reserved for someone or something he truly despised … The knight frowned deeper, coming to a realization that he felt he already knew, deep inside somewhere.
In Palamecia, Mateus had been the darkness that others sought to stop.
The Warrior hugged his arms over his own chest, gloves grasping the sharp corners of his armored greaves. For a moment, he turned his attention away from the pale, captivating creature in the mirror that had just laid bare his tale. Mateus was being honest, even though his tale was far from noble. He could have lied, and likely would have gotten away with it, but he had chosen not to. He chose to admit what he’d done in his home world. Who and what he was.
The once-Emperor explained how he awoke in this world as nothing but a normal, mortal man; stripped of everything that he once was. The knight gazed back at Mateus’s reflection in the mirror, and for a moment mused to himself, You could not appear a normal man if you tried. I still would have believed you ethereal.
Mateus began to speak of betrayal, the reason that this entire interaction had come to pass. He too had been stabbed in the back in this world, it seemed. The Warrior listening carefully, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open into a shocked, silent gasp as the noble man mentioned his name.
Kuja.
Without realizing it, the Warrior took three quick, heavy steps in Mateus’ direction as he listened to the rest of the emperor’s story, his arms falling to his sides, gloved hands balling into fists. In the mirror, he could see the anger flaring wildly in his own crystalline eyes, he could see the way his own chest rose and fell faster with each panicked, enraged breath. His jaw tightened as he resisted the urge to grab his sword and jump from the balcony, find Kuja and skin him alive.
However, the man staring back at him in the mirror would do no such thing. The Warrior of Light forced himself to take a breath, to try and calm his alight nerves, to relax and listen. Mateus was not finished with his story, and he could worry about asking further questions involving Kuja later. Knowing that they had a common enemy, though, helped the knight trust his noble friend, much more than he would like to admit.
Mateus spoke of the maiden he’d inquired about earlier, and as the nameless man let his gaze drift back to the noble’s in the mirror, there he could see it. He could feel it. Sadness. Regret. True, bare emotion that could not be faked, not even by the strongest of impersonators. Mateus had not just removed the makeup and jewels that made him up to appear as the Emperor he once was, he had laid himself out bare. Peeled away any layer of deception, any safety net to catch him as he fell into the dark, turbulent truths of his life.
Whatever man Mateus was before he came to this world, he had certainly changed. He was clearly a man that now cared for others, and who, at least it seemed, wished to bring some semblance of peace to a world that desperately needed it. And, perhaps, some peace to his own, fragmented spirit.
Though the Emperor had turned to look at him, the man’s gaze fell to the floor. The Warrior tilted his head, his eyes softened and mind heavy with thoughts and emotions to consider before making any moves.
"If the past is something you feel binds us and my sordid past offends, feel free to say so. You'd still be welcome to pass the night here and be gone in the morning's light. Still … Your decision is yours."
The nameless man stared into the blonde’s raw, emotional eyes. His breath was caught in this throat as he worked through how he felt, what he wanted to say. The Warrior had never been good with conversation, nor with expressing how he felt. At times, extreme emotion was still a new experience for him. He could only move on impulses that seemed to come straight from his heart in these times, as he attempted to untie the words from his tongue.
He stared into that gaze for too long, he knew, before the Warrior finally bowed his head. He moved forward, directly in front of Mateus, before bending down to one knee. It didn’t feel right to hover over this man who had willingly told him such a harsh and truthful story. Someone who had opened his soul to him. The nameless man acted on what little instinct he had, reaching forward and placing a gentle hand on Mateus’s arm.
“The past remains where it is. It is not who you were, but who you are now that matters,” the knight murmured, looking up to meet Mateus’s gaze, a soft, and kind smile on his lips, “You have proven to be an honest, kind, and strong man. Thank you … for telling me your tale.”
The Warrior knew that, while what he had asked for back in the restaurant seemed so trivial, it was anything but that. What Mateus had done for him was trying, it was difficult, and many people would likely have taken up their things and left him -- unable to trust who he was before he came to this strange world. No, this world had changed him … It had changed them both, in some ways.
The Warrior moved his gloved hand, gently grasping Mateus’s right hand with his own, before covering it with his left as well. He bowed his head, holding the noble’s delicate hand in his own strong, calloused gloves, his long, silver locks falling over his shoulders as he did so.
“I pledge myself to your cause,” the Warrior spoke strongly, yet softly as he needed no further time to think of a decision. He glanced up, pausing for a moment, his pale lips barely parting as he muttered, “No … No, to our cause.”
He still held Mateus’s hand in his own as a thoughtful look passed over his face. The knight glanced downward for a moment, his eyes darting anywhere else for a moment while he considered his next words. After a moment, he shyly glanced back up, taking in a moment to appreciate that Mateus looked just as royal with or without his adornments, before a small, genuine smile graced his lips, “That is, if you will still have me. I have not yet even admitted to any potential demons lurking in my own past…”.
Mateus thought he might be sick. The way his stomach churned and tightened with every second the man did not respond cause him to taste bile rising up his throat. He scratched at the back of his palm in repetitive swipes causing the skin to turn red and angry lines to appear marked onto his fair skin. He swallowed hard as he watched the warrior approach him from the view of the mirror. He expected a lecture at best, at worst he was expecting harsh vitriol and hasty exit. What he hadn't expected was for the man to kneel down beside him and take his hand in his own.
For a moment, Mateus could not do anything except look at the man. Words stumbled and fell flat at his lips as he thought of anything to say to the man. For once, he just sat and listened to what the man had to say. He glanced away as he was called honest, kind, and strong. He had never heard those words used to describe him, and he knew that he wouldn't use those words to describe him either. Words that described him and passed on lips that thought themselves unheard were cruel, narcissistic, callous, overbearing. Still, he wondered if the man's words held merit. Was he able to be those as well?
He turned his gaze back to the nameless vision by his side. This was a vision he was so familiar with: a beautiful man knelt down beside him promising fealty. Old memories and muscle memory had Mateus lift the man's head up by the chin to look at him more fully. He then used his finger to push the stray hairs from the man's face. Mateus traced the strong jawline and curve of the man's nose with his finger. Still as he began to lean forward, he stopped. The warrior was right, this was no longer his goal, it had become theirs. He would not take something that had not been offered even if he was so tempted. Mateus ran his through the man's hair instead and tutted as he felt the tangles and clumps in such a beautiful thing.
"Your words fill me with relief. There's no need to kneel before me. As you've said we are now of a common goal. We shall act as equals. Come,"Mateus squeezed the warrior's hand indicating they were going to move. Mateus stood grabbing the hairbrush from his stand and led the man to sit on the bed. "My first piece of advice is that your appearance is as much a weapon and defense as your sword and armor," Mateus explained as he began to part the man's hair to better groom it. "So, tell me, what demons could one with such an angelic face be hiding?"
Mateus was silent at first, and with each passing moment, the Warrior began to worry that he’d potentially overstepped. He was still learning social tact, after all, and perhaps he’d misread the scene? Still though, he held onto hope, sure that the blonde would be happy to accept his pledge of help.
Instead of words, the Emperor reached forward to touch him, a gentle, strong finger sliding under his chin and tilting his head up. The knight blinked his crystalline eyes, a flutter of his long lashes while the breath caught in his throat. Mateus brushed the stray hairs from his face, smooth touch gliding across his skin, unknowingly leaving a near burning trail in his wake. As his fingers measured the Warrior’s jawline and he leaned forward, the knight’s eyes widened, frozen to the spot. His breath came and went quickly, his heart beating so hard in his chest he was sure Mateus would hear it against his armor.
Even as the noble leaned back, his hands instead tangling themselves in the Warrior’s thick, silver locks, the nameless man couldn’t quite get his excited heartbeat under control. He breathed calmly, aware of how his face was burning, trying to control the look of elated curiosity in his gaze. What was that feeling? The Warrior was very inexperienced with intimacy of any kind, yet even he considered that a tender, intimate moment the two had just shared. But, what had he expected to come of it? He wasn’t sure.
His fingers were slightly trembling, and the Warrior forced his body to cooperate. For whatever reason, he was lamenting that Mateus had forced himself away.
However, relief flooded him as the Emperor accepted his declaration of loyalty, and a small smile replaced the look of curious confusion that the nameless man had been wearing. Equals. Though Mateus had said the word, the knight knew he would struggle to remember such a thing. With his allies and friends, he did consider himself an equal. But there were those, like Mateus, like the King of Cornelia and Princess Sarah, like Garland -- who the Warrior felt he would never stand on equal ground with. He would have to work on that, he supposed.
The Warrior moved as he was directed, sitting on the bed. It felt a little out of place in his armor, as he curiously touched the sheets with his gloved hands, wondering if he’d ever seen a bed that appeared so plush before. Yet, he was quickly distracted from such simple thoughts as Mateus moved his thick hair around.. His looks could be a weapon? The girl he’d watched over in Sonora had said something similar to that affect when she’d dressed him up for the very same opera he met Mateus at. He tried to imagine his appearance as sharp as a sword, yet as strong as a shield, but it was … strange.
"So, tell me, what demons could one with such an angelic face be hiding?"
The knight’s pensive look returned as he eyed his sword from across the room, sitting innocently by the door. Where to even start? More than once the Warrior of Light had attempted to piece together the bits and pieces of memories that flitted through his mind during the night, in moments of silence. However, by the day, it got harder and harder; memories becoming blurred and fading, replaced by new experiences. As if his mind could only handle so much.
“Much of my past eludes me,” the nameless man admitted, calmly folding his hands in his lap as he allowed Mateus to continue to fight with his hair, “There is much I do not remember. My parents, my home, my name. It is all a mystery.”
He furrowed his brows, attempting to find a place to start, “It’s as if … There are different events in my life that do not easily connect. For example, I recall some memories of fighting a war for the Gods of Chaos and Harmony. There were others there, but as time passes, their names and faces fade from my memory as well. However, I know that I was trapped in endless cycles of war, there. I have vivid memories of losing those battles, of dying and being resurrected. Aloud, it sounds like nonsense, but I dream of it night after night.”
The Warrior paused a moment, letting the dots connect in his mind’s eye, “Yet, I know it was real. I fought Chaos, the God of Discord, here in Torensten many moons ago. He recognized me, and I him, despite my foggy memories. He laid havoc to the city … I am relieved that the innocent people here were able to recover.”
But, that’s not all that happened here.
Squeezing his own fingers as a way of distracting himself, the knight pushed onwards, “I have memories of another endless cycle. I was chosen as a Warrior of Light in my new home, the Kingdom of Cornelia. My allies -- no, friends -- and I were tasked with many different trials while pursuing the corrupted knight, Garland. He eventually became Chaos, and attempted to cloak the land in darkness. In many of my dreams, we lose those battles. The names and faces of my allies change. Yet, sometimes I recall a victory, and training under Garland as a knight.”
His fingers found the clasps of his gauntlets, as he began to gently remove the smaller, easier to reach parts of his armor, sliding one glove off of his hand, “... This must all be quite confusing,” the nameless man chuckled softly, but without humor, “Much has happened that I cannot accurately recall, and trouble has followed me here.”
“The sorcerer, Kuja,” the name was bitter on the Warrior’s tongue, and just the mention of the tale forced his blood to boil, “I recalled him being caught in the cycles of war with me at some point. We had created a pact to learn about this world, assuming that it was another of the god’s cycles. I … trusted him, and allowed myself to be deceived. He used me, to obtain access to the Dragon’s Gate here, and despite my attempts to stop him, he was successful in unleashing the horde of dragons into the world.”
The nameless man couldn’t help but to hang his head for a moment; the guilt of what transpired in the caverns underneath Torensten haunting him just as they had months ago. His heart was heavy, but his resolve, at least, was strengthened.
“My desire for answers, my naivety, my willful ignorance of the darkness in others … Has caused the suffering, and end, of innocent lives. I would do anything to atone for the mistakes I have made here, to bring peace to these people…,” the Warrior trailed off, his expression somber as he thought of all the wrong he’d managed to cause in such a short space of time. However, he mentally shook the feeling away as swiftly as it had come. He had fantastic friends to help him in his journey to save this land. And now, another who shared a similar vision.
“My apologies,” the knight sighed, “I fear I’ve rambled far too long.”
Mateus tutted as he worked through the tangles and thickness of the warrior's hair. It was rough and course in his hand, and he thought his brush might break if he forced it through the entanglement for much longer or worse he would rip the hair from the man's scalp. Mateus switched to gently using his hands working each knot out like a small riddle as he listened to the man piece his own history together like a puzzle without all the pieces.
Matt hissed as a rather violent pang of pain shot through his temple as the man talked of cycles. Flashes of the horned beast, and calming woman on tower's summit melted away into the two in the sky above an empty plane. As fast as that vision came it passed only to be replaced by the reminder of the migraine that had struck him the day the light shot from the tower. That devilish bestial voice echoed like nails on chalkboards in his memory, but the words were not the ones he remembered from the tower. Still, Mateus stilled his breathing as the pain fluttered away. He hadn't realized that he had clutched the warrior's shoulder pad like a vice during the sudden pain.
Hoping the man hadn't felt the grip through his armor, Mateus continued to listen as the man jumped from one fragment of memory to another. Garland. That atrociously ugly sounding name again. He would not interrupt the man as he talked, but he wondered why he would use the name of his adversary to introduce himself to strangers rather than picking one of his friends'. Mateus just smiled in his bewildered amusement and shook his head running his fingers through the man's hair he had for the most part detangled. They could work on making it soft to the touch sometime later.
Mateus' nostrils flared as talk turned to Kuja. Those cycles again. So, it seemed he did the same to every person his path crossed. Agree to a truce of finding knowledge before negating it by seizing whatever information or power had been found. The man looked down once more as he recalled his own failures. Yes, it sounded like the man had walked right into whatever trickery Kuja and others had set for him. Still, Mateus whatever self righteous feelings he had for not being as naive fell away as something else took over as he watched the man stooped over defeated. It wasn't the pity he felt when he looked upon a dying animal, but something deeper. He wanted the man to know it couldn't all be his fault.
Mateus slid from his position beside the man to one next to the man. He placed his hand once more on the ungloved and rough hand of that man's before he lifted the man's chin once more to look at him. "You can not know the darkness that lives in men's hearts or their malicious thoughts," he soothed his voice softer than he was used to using. "Think instead of the light you've brought to others rather than what darkness you could not stop," Mateus paused as wished to speak the man's name to him. "I know you've forgotten who you are, but if you'd like, what would you have me call you. Warrior sounds far too harsh on my tongue."
He gave the man a sincere smile before his own demeanor fell, "I think the shame you feel should be reserved for me. For the sake of our transparency with one another, I believe you should know this truth. If it once more changes your opinion so be it." Mateus swallowed before looking away for a second. How would this man react to him having been used and given power by the very god he was at war with? Still, he looked back into the man's cold eyes. "I believe I've come across this Chaos here as well. He called to me, and I heeded its call to the tower. Although by the time we ascended to the summit, I had conceded the power I was promised to the Seeress, I and another were granted the power instead as the horned beast and a fair woman filled our senses and she was overpowered. I might have gained power, but at what cost? I lost the girl, and...." Mateus stopped as he felt his voice tremble and something watered at the edge of his vision.
Mateus got up quickly walking over to the vanity. He knew the man would comment, but he would change the subject quickly to divert the response for the moment. Going through the drawer, Mateus pulled out one his night robes. He wondered at the man's physique underneath the bulbous armor hoping he would fit. "You look uncomfortable in your armor," he said changing the subject quickly, "please feel free to use this to ease your comfort." He brought the robe back over to man laying it by his side. He hoped for a few things: that the man wouldn't outright leave, and that the man would go change in the bathroom and leave him for a moment to compose himself. He had heeded a call he would not again. Aside from the unknown fate of Yeul and the boy and the breaking of the seal, no one had died because of his actions, but he wouldn't allow himself to be used by discord again. Especially if it meant losing the man to his side.
For anyone wondering, Lior means "I have a light", in Hebrew. That's why Wolly feels drawn to it ksldfkdslk
Despite his attempt to shake away the feelings of shame and self-resentment, the Warrior couldn’t help but feel it creeping up his throat once more. An ache in his very soul, it made his shoulders feel impossibly heavy and he struggled to breathe properly. He tried to force such awful feelings back to wherever they’d managed to drag themselves up from, lock them in a tiny box and forget about them. But, there was something about sharing these failures with this man, Mateus, who had treated him so kindly from the moment they’d met. He could only feel disappointed in himself, and somehow fearing reproach though the emperor had confided in him his own dark past.
He felt adrift at sea, with stones tied to his limbs, dragging him further into the depths.
Though lost in his thoughts and broken feelings for the moment, the nameless man still sensed the shift in Mateus’s presence. The emperor moved swiftly, yet near silently, taking the Warrior’s battle-worn hand within his much softer grasp. The knight blinked his crystalline eyes, attempting to clear the fog within his mind as he gazed up at Mateus, resisting the urge to lean into the suddenly comforting presence. He wished that such a moment could be paused so he could experience it just a little longer -- no words, just silent emotion, soft gazes, and warm skin.
"You can not know the darkness that lives in men's hearts or their malicious thoughts. Think instead of the light you've brought to others rather than what darkness you could not stop."
The emperor’s words struck chords in both his mind and heart. A light flickered back into the Warrior’s gaze as he briefly smiled, a small tug of the lips. Mateus’s words were sound, and his soft, yet strong voice carried only the most innocent of intention. Many times before, others had called the knight out on his ability to hold onto the past for far too long, to brood on things that went wrong, things that he couldn’t change. He had a habit of letting the same wound be torn open again and again, instead of letting it heal into the battle scar it deserved to be.
The Warrior gave Mateus a brief nod of silent acceptance and acknowledgement. Despite the instances of darkness that had plagued him, the light warrior had saved many lives, and had helped many people. That was all he desired to do in this world -- vanquish the darkness, and spread peace and harmony. He should focus on his many victories, however small, instead of the major defeats. All men had darkness in their hearts, even himself. He would simply have to make it a point to acknowledge that in the future, and work to draw out their inner light.
"I know you've forgotten who you are, but if you'd like, what would you have me call you. Warrior sounds far too harsh on my tongue." That gave the knight pause. A name? Many people had asked him for a name in the past, but he’d always refused, wishing to recover his true name. To take on another name would be to forget the one of his past, wouldn’t it? Or, would he simply forget this one too, in time? Curiosity lit the Warrior’s eyes for a moment as he thought to all of the stories he’d ever been told, to all the books others had read to him, to all the names and their meanings he’d ever heard. He’d have to come up with something, but …
The sound of Mateus’s voice drew him from his thoughts, as he saw the blonde’s warm smile fade into something more sullen. The knight frowned with concern, and he gently gripped his friend’s hand in solidarity. They had shared with one another their failures and concerns, but such a well was endless.
There was more on Mateus’s mind.
But, the tale came as something the Warrior did not expect. His eyes widened as he realized exactly what the emperor was describing. The voice that had called Mateus to the tower -- it was Chaos. So, that’s where he had been, and what he’d been waiting to do. The knight did not feel the rush of anger in his heart, however, that he may have once in the past. No, he knew well what lengths the gods could, and would, go to in order to garner people to their sides. Promises of power. Abusing their ability to draw on the emotions of good people. Lies and deceit. He had lived countless lives learning to tune out Chaos’s promise of power, and eventually learned of Cosmos’s own lies and trickery buried within her own good intentions.
The Gods were cruel.
Chaos and Cosmos were still battling, even here in this world where they should have found themselves united in a common cause. It appeared Chaos had won this particular battle of sorts, but placed his trust and power in a man who’s heart carried compassion for others. The Warrior of Light felt the immense emotion that welled up within Mateus, he noticed the way the man struggled to breathe easily, the way his bright eyes covered with mist. When the emperor moved to pull away from him, the nameless man did not resist. He bowed his head for a moment, releasing the blonde’s hand and letting him take a moment to himself.
However, he couldn’t stay silent. He simply couldn’t More than anyone, perhaps, the Warrior knew how it felt to be used by Gods. What Mateus felt ashamed for, there was no reason for it. He didn’t intentionally line himself up to serve Chaos. He didn’t mean for the Seeress to potentially find herself in harm’s way.
It’s not your fault, he thought as he struggled to find a moment to speak.
Mateus busied himself grabbing something from the dresser, speaking again before the Warrior could utter a single syllable. A soft robe was placed next to him, and the knight simply glanced from the soft fabric to the burdened man who had brought it to ease him. Though the Warrior would always feel the most comfortable in his armor, he knew he was in the vast minority. That, and it seemed Mateus needed a moment to himself, to perhaps process all they’d spoken about. The nameless man had his own matters to consider as well.
Rising to his feet, the knight was acutely aware of the awkward sounds of metal on metal that his armor caused in the otherwise silent room. He grasped the robe in one hand and began to make his way to the washroom, but stopped short. The Warrior glanced back to Mateus, his eyes brimming with light, and the desire to comfort the man who’d brought him some peace as well.
“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” he murmured softly, blinking and casting his gaze to the floor for a moment, “At the top of that tower. Using people for their own desires -- that is what those Gods do.”
The Warrior paused, before giving Mateus a very brief, small smile, “I imagine Chaos will be infinitely frustrated to find one he gave power to will be using it for peace. It may only be a small comfort, I realize, but you have betrayed Chaos’s very essence.”
During Mateus’s story, he mentioned a fair woman, who was overpowered by Chaos. The knight knew well it was Cosmos, and though he currently had mixed feelings for the Goddess of Harmony, he knew well that, at her core, she cared deeply for any that she considered her warriors, those who would spread harmony. The Warrior thought of the girl, the Seeress that Mateus had spoken of so fondly, his companion that he’d been separated from.
“The maiden you spoke of,” the nameless man’s voice had turned soft once more as he considered his words, his heart beating hard as he recalled the familiar sensation of Cosmos’s light, even in the darkest of times, “She is safe. Cosmos may have lost her battle with Chaos, but she always reserved power to bless and protect seekers of harmony. I’m sure you’ll cross paths with her again, soon.”
With that, the Warrior moved into the washroom, gently shutting the door behind him. He released a held breath, suddenly aware that he was the one who needed a moment to decompress. His typically emotionless state was swimming with everything from despair to hope, happiness to rage. The knight felt overloaded and exhausted, and certainly, out of place. He was pleased that he and Mateus had become close allies, and close friends. However, things still felt so foreign, so strange.
Just … A moment. To try and wipe things clean.
The nameless man distracted himself by slowly, and carefully, removing each piece of his armor. The dark blue hues of his armor practically glowed against the white tile in the washroom as he placed each piece neatly into a corner, out of the way. However, the light also lit up every scratch and imperfection, every scar from battle. With the last piece of armor removed, the Warrior found himself feeling oddly light and exposed.
He touched the robe Mateus had offered him, almost suspicious of how soft it was. He’d never felt something so delicate and warm before. Well, a garment as such. Slowly, he peeled away his tunic and other garments, carefully folding them and setting them near his armor. There was a mirror above the basin, and the Warrior couldn’t help but notice how … different he seemed, from Mateus. His skin was rough, bruised in spots from a recent skirmish, littered with scars both big and small. One in particular, a gouge mark across his abdomen, was still sensitive. He shuddered as his calloused fingers danced across it for a moment, recalling the dragon that had pierced through his armor and nearly killed him.
The nameless man grabbed the robe and slid it on, fiddling with it for a moment in order to make it set right on his body. The sleeves were a little tight, but not uncomfortably so. He couldn’t hide the signs of battle on the skin of his slightly exposed chest, and the Warrior realized, he suddenly had a strange desire to. Since when had he cared about something like appearances? He pushed the thought from his mind, as he took a moment to wash his face in the basin.
Mateus wanted to call him by a name. He’d been stewing on that silently, and believed he’d picked one. Something he would only let that man call him -- perhaps he’d consider it as more of a nickname than a … name. It felt so strange, to consider that he would be called by something other than warrior. That’s all he could ever remember being called. That’s all he’d ever let anyone call him.
Until now.
Feeling that a sufficient amount of time had passed, the knight patted his face dry and headed towards the door. He opened the door slowly, giving Mateus plenty of time to arrange himself however he saw fit before the Warrior emerged. He began to make his way back towards the bed, but found himself unable to fully commit. Instead, he paused, feeling awkwardly out of place in such a fine environment, unable to choose what he should do with himself.
The Warrior quietly broke the silence first, his voice almost sheepish, “I’ve a name you could call me by,” he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, cementing the thought in his mind, “... Lior. It is the only name I have ever felt a connection to.”
For some reason, admitting to a name caused the knight to feel … relaxed. Like a knot within his gut had finally loosened. The name didn’t feel as foreign on his lips as he feared it would, though he knew it would take some getting used to -- especially hearing someone call him by such.
Mateus sighed in relief as the man took the garments offered to him instead of getting up and leaving. He sat back down on the bed as the other made his way to the bathroom. Good, he'd have time to breathe, to think without those bright blue beautiful eyes searing into his and tugging at some deeper truth. He had just begun to take a calming breath when the warrior once more turned back towards him. The breath caught in his throat as his chest constricted. This was it the reprimand; the condemnation of the man to tell him how malicious he truly was to be called upon by the god of destruction and chaos. Those words didn't come though.
Mateus was comforted to now that the goddess would save her chosen although it did nothing to alleviate the guilt. So, she and the dragon's helm would be kept from the clutches of Chaos for the time being. A comforting thought if nothing more. Still, it was the other words the man had spoken that caused his stomach to churn with self indignation. Although he could have gazed upon the warrior as long as the sun and moon tried to find one another in the sky, Mateus had never felt such relief in his own solitude as when the man finally went into the bathroom and closed the door. Still in the resulting silence the words still rang in his head: "Using people for their own desires -- that is what those Gods do.
So did he. That's all he had ever done. Even now wasn't that what he was doing with the man in the other room? Mateus stood and crossed back over to the dresser trying to push the thought from his mind but it bounced back as though tethered by a magnet to the forefront of his thoughts. He rummaged through the drawers looking for something more appropriate to match the gowns he had given the man. Finding something far less spectacular than the grand robes he displayed, Mateus quickly changed before the man would come back out. Air, he needed air, crossing the room quickly to the balcony bursting through the door to the point it bounced back as it slammed against the door
Mateus breathed deeply letting the cooling air of the evening filter through him chilling him slightly as his mind ran hot. Had there ever been anyone he hadn't used for his own amusement, pleasure, or personal gain? He looked down to the street below as he tried to burst his lungs with the cold air as his chest burnt with guilt. It had always been like this looking down on people, distant and disinterested. They were just pawns to use or insects to squash. What had changed? Looking down into the street, he couldn't make himself feel for any of the faces he couldn't see in the darkness below. Why then did he care so much for the Seeress, the same one he tried to bend to his benefit before the culmination of their actions. Why did he care so much for the man in the other room? It felt so weird and wrong and heavy. It wasn't comforting or warm like the disdain and hate he felt for the others he had come across in this place. It was awful.
The creaking of the bathroom door drew Mateus away from the balcony and his thoughts. Closing the door to the balcony and back inside, he waited for the man to come out as he busied himself with his hair and his clothes anything to distract himself. Then the man revealed himself and Mateus felt his stomach swirl again. Without all the armor, it was just Mateus and the man he had been speaking to all the day, not him and a warrior. It was obvious they weren't the same size, but the man still looked a vision his broadness filling the robes in a way Mateus never would. Mateus closed the gap the man seemed hesitant to and he stood arm length away.
Mateus still couldn't seem to look him in the eye still even as he began to talk. His eyes hovered on the man's chest a fresh scar still signaling as to the man's nature. "Lior," Mateus whispered back as he finally flicked his eyes back up the man's, no Lior's own. It came naturally to the tongue, and he said it again a smile on his lips that didn't match the stinging of tears in his eyes as he looked once more at the scar. "It suites you," Mateus commented.
How many scars had his own actions left on others? Perhaps he couldn't erase all the wounds he had ever caused, nor did he think some didn't deserve it, but just maybe he could make sure he didn't cause anymore for those he knew. His hand tingled with the cool curative magic of the mountain, but it felt even colder and even more foreign than it had when he'd used it before. Mateus closed the distance in between them taking his hand to the man's chest. He traced the length of the fresh scar wanting with all his heart to erase the cause behind it. Still, even though the cause couldn't be so easily done away with, his breath caught as the skin flattened and the scar vanished at his touch before his hand warmed again the magic disappearing once more.
Mateus looked back up into Lior's eyes feeling the redness on his own face flush and burn. It had been so spontaneous, so natural. He couldn't help as the tears finally escaped and all he could do was lay his head on Lior's shoulder, wrapping his arm around him tightly, and weep.
I was literally shaking when I typed this DSKFLSDJK
Lior watched as Mateus turned to face him. Again, the man’s eyes seemed troubled, clouded with emotions too thick and complicated to maneuver through. Like a forest of thick vines with sharp thorns. The knight was unsure what to say as the air stayed stagnant between them for a moment, heavier than it had been before. Now, as the sun had sank behind the horizon, and the darkness was beginning to bleed in from the outside, he was still lost for words. So much had been said between them.
The emperor began to close the gap between them, though, standing an awkward length away. Lior found himself searching for Mateus’s eyes, his tongue stilled, arms hanging uselessly by his sides for the moment. This was such a foreign feeling -- alien, without his armor, his sword across the room. He felt exposed, and his cheeks naturally tinged red as he realized the blonde’s eyes hadn’t quite found his, but they had found the visible scar that ran across his bare chest.
"Lior," the Warrior nearly shivered as he heard the name drip from Mateus’s lips -- his name, "It suites you."
Mateus’s smile was genuine, but for the few moments that his eyes locked to Lior’s, the knight saw the glassy reflection. His hands twitched and he began to raise his arms, worried that he’d upset the emperor in some way. However, before he could take hold of Mateus, the man touched him instead, tracing his fingers over the fresh, raised scar tissue on his chest. Lior shuddered, the touch cold against skin. A part of him wanted to pull away, to tell the blonde not to expose himself to such ugliness and pain. The Warrior was a man of many flawed scars, cycles of pain and death etched into his skin.
Yet, he couldn’t pull away. Mateus pressed his hand flat against his chest, and Lior watched him with wide, blue eyes, confused. Slowly, a warm feeling spread across his chest, and the skin beneath the emperor’s hand became less sensitive.
As Mateus pulled his hand away, Lior became aware of what had just happened. The scar -- it was gone. His wide, confused gaze met Mateus’s, his breath caught in his chest, his heart pounding.
“I …,” Lior couldn’t find any words, overwhelmed by the insanely kind gesture. Whatever precious few seconds he could have had for thankful words quickly vanished, as glossy tears began to drip from Mateus’s long eyelashes, down his flushed cheeks. The Warrior was stunned, as the emperor lay his head on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, letting the tears fall freely onto his shoulder.
This was a moment neither of them had expected.
Lior slowly raised his arms and wrapped them around the man who was pressed against him, holding onto him tightly. This wasn’t the first time the knight had ever comforted someone, however, the situation was just … powerful. Overwhelming. For a moment, he felt that he couldn’t breathe, slowly drowning in his own emotions. However, for the time being, he pushed what he could away from his mind. Slowly, he moved himself and Mateus to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding the blonde tightly against his form best he could.
There were no words to say. He’d learned that, from his friends. When someone was upset, they needed their time to grieve, to process their thoughts and feelings. No words could make it better, faster, but they could certainly make things worse. Lior released a shaky breath, rubbing one hand in small circles on Mateus’s back, lowering his head to lay gently against the blonde locks against his shoulder.
He couldn’t say what all Mateus had lived through, personally. The knight only knew the powerful story he’d just learned, and it seemed that the man in his arms had truly been through so much. Not physically, perhaps, but mentally and emotionally. A journey. What he needed now, perhaps, was rest. A chance to let his mental state balance out.
And it would come, in time. For now, Lior was content to hold Mateus tightly in his arms until he settled, eyes searching the stars in the sky he could barely see through the open balcony door. His own breathes came shakily as his emotions all battled for control, as his mind tried to piece together exactly what had happened during the day. When men became allies, they shook hands, and made promises to one another. When men became friends, they began to trust one another, perhaps letting each other into their lives.
Mateus and Lior had opened up to each other about everything, good and bad. The Warrior wasn’t sure he knew anyone as well as he now knew the blonde man in his arms, and he certainly had told anyone else everything he’d told Mateus that day. What … did that make them? Lior pondered that thought with one arm still wrapped tightly around the emperor, his other hand gently snaking into the man’s blonde hair to keep him close, to comfort.
Soon, they would have to clean up the mess they’d made of themselves. The world would not wait for them. For now, though, they could stay just as they were.
Mateus cried until there were no tears left to cry, and he was reduced to shaking. So much guilt and sadness over things he could no longer change, about the parts of him that would not not change, and the secrets laid bare in the brisk night. He had barely noticed as he had been brought to his bed, Lior now playing with his hair as his mother had once done, as someone else from his distant past had. Mateus swallowed the last of his sobs as the the world of pain faded and the one he was in came back into view with in silver waves of hair. He wanted to stay like this, his hair being played with and the musky scent of sweat playing at his nose, but as soon as he gained control of himself he felt the embarrassment light up his face
"I, uh," was all he could muster before a soft laugh as his face burned like a fire. It was very rare that Mateus had ever found himself lost for words and all he wanted to do was hide his embarrassment on the shoulder of the man beside him. Instead, he just looked down the sadness welling up in his chest again, but not near the breaking point anymore. "It's late," he lied even though the sun had just set only a while ago. Mateus busied himself with wiping away his tears as he stood walking to the door double checking if it was locked if only to be himself time. He wanted to curl up on the bed and think things over, but he didn't want to lose this time with Lior. Things could be faced on the morrow when the sun would stare harshly down and expose the shadows once more. For tonight he just wanted to bask in the shimmering dullness of the moonlight light and shadow mixed.
"We can perhaps find you your own room tomorrow," he said hoping that would be the only talk of the future for now, "for this evening, you can share my bed. It's plenty big." Mateus crossed back over to the balcony shutting the blinds and double checking the lock on that door as well. before crawling into the bed once more. "I just don't"want you to go were the ones Mateus wanted to say but he settled on something equally as vulnerable as he pulled his hair from out beneath him as he curled up still looking at him , "want to be alone tonight. If that's okay," he smiled shyly as he wiped the bangs from his face before saying the name he's been given once more, "Lior."
Lior wasn’t sure how long they had stayed together, with his strong arms around Mateus’s trembling frame, attempting to comfort the man with what little he had to share. Time didn’t matter, not at the moment, as the man in his hold shook less and less, his breaths evening out. The knight’s hand that had been comfortably stroking the emperor’s blonde locks gently drifted downward, pressing against his back, feeling the man’s pulse begin to slow as he breathed deeply.
As Mateus pulled away, the knight felt his arms suddenly chilled. Had he gotten used to the warmth they’d temporarily shared, in a few moments of comfort?
The curious thought fled his mind, however, as the blonde gave a shaky, timid laugh, his face flushing red. For once, Mateus seemed at a loss for words, and Lior struggled to think of what he could say, or do, to help improve the situation. Concern bled from his own gaze, his hands nervously set together in his lap now that he wasn’t using them for anything. He felt suddenly so … inexperienced, as a friend. Perhaps, Mateus felt the same way, their eyes narrowly avoiding each other.
"It's late," a lie, but the knight had no desire to say such. In all honesty, though his body felt alive and alert, his mind was tired, his spirit exhausted. Lior had never spoken so much of himself in one day, let alone of his failures, and taken in such a heavy story from another as well. He wanted to reach out and help Mateus dry his tears, but the blonde had already moved away from the bed, walking away toward the door, examining the lock in an effort to busy himself.
Lior glanced down at his own calloused hands for a moment, turning over thought after confusing thought, mulling on the well of emotions that stirred within his chest. He didn’t want to be left alone with this, but perhaps that was for the best. Never having had a good understanding of human emotion, the knight knew he could be difficult to deal with when silently processing his feelings. Distracted and distant, many found it troubling.
"We can perhaps find you your own room tomorrow," Lior was dragged from his thoughts again, looking up to see the blonde crossing the room, shuttering the blinds at the balcony and locking the door, "for this evening, you can share my bed. It's plenty big."
The knight opened his mouth to protest, but closed it as Mateus crawled onto the bed at the opposite end, curling underneath of the plush sheets. Before, he’d simply planned to sleep in the lightly wooded area outside of the city, contemplating his next move under the watchful gaze of the twinkling stars. However, something inside of him caused him to hesitate, when normally he would have simply crossed the room with a polite decline and slipped through the door.
"I just don't… want to be alone tonight. If that's okay."
“Of course,” the knight agreed, freezing at the sight of Mateus’s smile, and the way his name sounded on the man’s lips.
“Lior.”
Something seized at Lior’s heart, and though it took him time to decipher the way he was feeling, he realized what had suddenly grasped at his very soul. He didn’t want to be alone, either.. He had been alone for a very long time, unable to share the agonizing tale of his life with many that he’d met. Now, he had given a piece of himself to Mateus, and he felt … That he didn’t want to be away from the man. Not yet.
Carefully, the knight moved off of the bed, walking over towards the door, where he’d set his sword. He considered the weapon for a moment, before wrapping his fingers around the familiar hilt. He glanced back at Mateus, explaining, “I often dream of … terrible things. Having my sword nearby allows me to feel safe.”
Lior softly padded back toward the bed, carefully setting the sword against the wall on the side he would be resting on. Again, he sat on the bed, the softness and comfort foreign to his back as he laid himself down. It wasn’t the first time he’d shared sleeping arrangements with another -- he and his friends often had to share sleeping quarters with one another during their travels -- yet this still felt different. The knight couldn’t place the feeling, and he realized he was too exhausted to consider it further.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for some time, but Lior hoped that Mateus would be able to. The emperor had much more of a checkered past than the knight did, and it took quite the toll on him to admit how he used to be. Lior couldn’t imagine the strength that would take -- if he had ever been on that side, he couldn’t recall it.
“Rest easy, Mateus,” the knight mumbled quietly, a small smile on his lips despite the confusion in his heart, “Tomorrow is a new day. Perhaps, a less spiritually exhausting one.”
As the darkness took over the room, Lior curled up on top of the sheets in an attempt to get comfortable, his eyes half lidded as he turned his thoughts inward, muttering quietly to himself, “... I don’t want to be alone, either.”
