WE BECOME THOUGHTLESS

prologue

(i know this is weird placing but i'm too lazy to go back - here u go!)

prologue.

At first glance, Alistair wouldn't have been very noticeable at all. His cloaked body bled into the shadows and his pale face stayed hidden under the cover of his hood. If it weren't for the general in front of him, whom he trailed closely behind, he would've been almost completely invisible to the average eye.

He fiddled at the bottles strapped to his belt to have something for his hands to settle on. He would've scratched nervously away at the skin if not for the distraction, and he had the reddened, cut-up palms to prove it.

This would be the first time he would being allowed to go off by himself without the general for company. If he didn't do well, if he was at all not successful, he might never leave his line of sight again. The thought scared him.

They walked quickly passed preparing soldiers and unstacked crates. General Tobias didn't so much as glance over his shoulder as he spoke. "I'm too busy for these sorts of raids nowadays. There's too much going on here for me to head off into other territories."

Alistair nodded. "I understand."

"You do?" He said coolly. "You understand what this might mean for you, then?"

There was a beat of silence. Alistair's words got caught in his throat. He frowned and cast a look off to the side, where soldiers were strapping on armour and sheathing their swords. "I know enough."

"So you know you're going to have to carry out the cleansing without me there?" Tobias drawled, this time turning to glimpse at the boy behind him, following his step. Grey, too-sharp eyes tracked his movements, down to the very rhythm of his step. Alistair hated when he watched him like that. "I know you don't like it."

"I don't—"

"You don't. I know you don't," he said stonily. "You're going to try and get out of it, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't do that." Alistair snapped, immediately blanching. He wanted to shrink and hide in the darkness of his cloak, unperceivable, a shadow among the shadows. "I wouldn't try to get out of what I'm supposed to do. This is my job. I can't avoid it," then, with more consideration, "sir."

The general didn't say anything to that. Instead, the two walked in uncomfortable, purposeful silence, and Alistair got the sense that he had done something wrong. He was always doing something wrong. It was either the way he held himself, or what he was wearing, or at what time he retired to his tent. At some point he had decided that even if he were objectively perfect, Tobias would find something to critique him on.

The general stopped in the dirt and looked up at the great balloon ship ahead of him, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt and smoothing the creases in his jacket. Everything about him read I'm better than you. "This is the ship."

Alistair tilted his head up at the balloon. There were plenty of ships, all lined up in perfect rows, full of stacks and belongings and equipment. This one was no different, apart from the inflated size of the balloon, which was considerably more grandiose.

He immediately didn't like it, although he wouldn't say that aloud.

With a tight smile, he nodded. "It's big."

"Ships typically are," the general turned to regard him and narrowed his cool eyes on the cloaked boy. "You've got a soft heart, Alistair."

Alistair looked down with a swell of heat in his chest. "I can't tell whether that was a compliment or an insult."