SONDER : ALPHA, Leader of the Fallen

Part TWO : From the Ashes § 1 [ Briefly ]

Northeast of Emberley, beyond the grasslands

The Aezareth

        "It's just an arrowhead, he says. To the knee, he says. Where's the bastard at 'ey?"

Vi massaged the bridge of her nose as the annoying voice ranted at the gates. She waved her hand, and the others activated the mechanism and hauled the heavy, groaning gate open. More irritating sounds.

She did not wait for the most annoying of them all to enter Aezareth: Vi spun on her heel to march back to her work. But then, she caught the clacking sound of a crutch as the annoyance grunted. She hesitated. She did not have the wherewithal to deal with him today, but...

With an eye-roll, Vi turned with a scowl.

The sun was too bright: she shadowed her eyes with her hand so she could scan the men coming through the gates: no Azrael. No Luke. The others were accounted for. The supreme annoyance was walking with help and, indeed, a crutch.

Begrudgingly, she asked, "Where is he?"

"Great to see you too, Princess!" That voice. "Yes, I'm well, just an arrow to the bloody knee, just almost mauled to death by a frickin' beast, just about almost kille-"

"-Yes, yes, whine to Martha. Where is he?"

"Look at me," he mocked; "I'm all uncaring and mighty, the great Princess of a shite hole!"

Vi pinned him with a glare as the pest hobbled up to her. He moved to throw his arm about her shoulders, but she side-stepped him and crossed her arms.

"No touching," her nose wrinkled; "you're filthy."

"I'm a cripple here, your highness, you just about dumped me on my-"

"-Tell someone who cares. I won't ask again."

"Now, who could be the only person your stone heart could care about? Definitely not little old me. Does your golden-boy brother even enter your thoughts? No, it must be our hunk of a leader!"

"I will ask someone else."

The annoyance laughed, and Vi shivered at the sound. His voice made her want to peel the flesh from her face, but his laugh— his laugh was husky. She remembered it at her ear, in the dark— oh, she had been much too drunk. There was nothing appealing about this ape.

But of course, he had to spot the crack in her mask. The annoying pitch toned down, his voice dropping deliciously low. "Oh, you don't want to ask anyone else, Princess. You want to hear it from Mikey." Even with the crutch, the man was imposing, and he grinned at her with that cocky swagger only he could pull off. His blood-spattered ginger hair framed the greenest of eyes, bright jade. Those eyes seemed to glow when lights were dimmed. Dirt marred his face, but it gave him a wilder look, the warrior's look—

—But Michelangelo was an asshole and the biggest player in Aezareth. Oh, it was much too easy to forget his charms when she could remember instead how he handled the next morning.

Vi grit her teeth at the lying, scheming, dirty little man-child.

And, she decked him.

He fell, not able to balance with the unexpected blow on one working leg, and landed in the dirt with a grunt. But the asshole dared to laugh. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Princess, you aren't so cold, are you? Did you miss me?"

But Vi was turning away from Mikey as he scrambled to his feet to the laughter of everyone else. She marched to Sariel, his chuckles ending with her glare. "Report."