A Deadly Bite

31.1 || Shattering Promises

A city is scattered across the horizon. Lit just barely by the breaking dawn, the buildings have become the corpses of fallen guards, armour strewn in piles of rocky rubble and the bodies themselves bleeding clouds of dust and smoke. A grey air of hopelessness, of defeat, hangs as thick as the early morning fog. Fiesi is sure he can taste it on his tongue.

His bones suddenly feeling heavy, he eases his horse to a halt and gazes out at the dim sky. Upon Oscensi's flat plains, there's been no denying the approaching Polevis for some time now, but as another day ekes into existence and the distance grows shorter, the sight of it now is painful enough to scratch at his heart. It isn't like he hasn't seen it before. During his time in Neyaibet's army, he hid at the edges of many a bloody victory, but none could hold quite the same weight as the destruction of Oscensi's capital. He can't quite believe now that he could be so numb to it at the time.

Maybe it's freedom that allows the feelings to seep in. Back then, his mind was consumed with Rigel's orders: a single-minded, undoubtable urge to stamp out darkness, and a surety that nothing else mattered much. The Cormé could kill each other around him, and it didn't matter. Homes and civilians could burn in their natural way as long as the world didn't catch alight.

His heartstrings twinge, a serpentine ache wrapping loops around his ribcage. He winces and twists his face to the side. Sometimes he begins to wonder whether heartless ignorance was a blessing. At least it had a path, a certainty. At least it didn't hurt.

"Fiesi?"

Sarielle's horse comes up alongside him, her gaze razing over his turned cheek until he swallows and forces himself to glance over. He isn't surprised not to see concern. Her expression is equally guarded and fragile, a mask put up to hide her emotions. She has never even seen Polevis in its broken state. When she was last here, it was her home.

"Maybe it's something we have in common," he murmurs before the words will stop, watching the patterns of dark smoke and crumbled towers. "Homes exchanged for ruins."

The thought flickers through her eyes, darkening her expression. She sets her jaw and nods. "Let's keep going. We're almost there."

They continue on together, sinking back into drifting, solemn silence. Dalton and Jaci march in the rear, just as wordless. In all the many hours they've been travelling since they left Lo Dasi, trailing too far behind the Neyaibet soldiers they track, it's odd how few words they've collectively spoken. It's almost robotic, like they're going through the motions of surviving without truly caring.

Tongue caught between his teeth, Fiesi steals another glance at Sarielle. She's sitting stiff and straight on her saddle, injured leg locked firm, not an ounce of the lingering pain she must feel visible. Her spring-sky eyes stare directly ahead at the fallen city. Despite the quiver in her hands, a kind of steel knits her features together. He looks away.

She cares. He reaches up to grip the clasp of his cloak, metal edge digging into his thumb. The only one going through the motions here is me.

If it weren't for her, for the stupid part of him that says he owes her something, he wouldn't be here at all.

- ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ -

Fragmented as he feels, Fiesi can still find it within him to hate riding. His legs wobble as he drops to the ground, and he winces as they cramp, holding onto his horse's saddle to retain his balance. The mikros snorts and buckles under his touch, jerking away sharply enough to nearly knock him over. He throws his arms out, anchoring himself with his flame, and growls a curse under his breath.

Sarielle has already said they should be grateful the horses had been left a reasonable distance from the town -- and therefore narrowly escaped Nathan's massacre -- and he's trying to be. They've kept up with Neyaibet far better this way. Still, he wishes the beasts wouldn't all take such a fervent dislike to him.