Poleaxes, Daggers, Assassins, Oh My! (Angster)

[Elloria]

Genji felt immensely satisfied by the effect of his words. The shock that bloomed on the Vorthain’s face was sweeter than any nectar and more warming than the natural hot springs on the volcanic slopes of Sariatus. It was a little too satisfying, really. Perhaps because the Vorthain was not a typical Alagaesian. Perhaps because he was beginning to walk a dangerously thin line between that which delighted Yawata no Kami and that which delighted Zhayu. His threat had been rather cruel, even by his exceptionally lax standards. Was he behaving more rashly? More in a fashion pleasing to Zhayu than to Yawata no Kami? The thought was troubling. He would need to meditate on the matter later – perhaps even pray to Yawata no Kami for guidance. Yes…that would be wise.

“Yes, I lied to you. But I don't see how I could have avoided it. The first I had ever heard of you was from your bodyguard this morning. For all I knew, upon first hearing my name, you could have been swept up in a fervor for justice and put my head on a pike before I could even say a word.” Genji finally tuned in to what the Vorthain was saying as the man sighed wearily. Now for the justifications of the man’s lies. He really didn’t want to listen to them. If you tried hard enough, you could make excuses for anything – even genocide. “I did not become what I am today by choice. I have no one to rely on but myself. Put yourself in my position; would you have done any differently?”

Yes, perhaps his threat had been somewhat rash. Genji exhaled sharply. He was unnecessarily alienating a potentially useful tool and ally in his battle against the Harlot. How to backtrack on his threats without seeming to? This was so incredibly frustrating. And he was so tired of playing these games. They were fun enough in the beginning, but some days he felt incredibly old for his 35 years.

Now what? He had surely put the man on edge with his threat and the current conditions. And there was little doubt that the Vorthain would do everything in his power to escape at some point. It was the logical thing to do. And from everything he had seen and heard thus far, believing the Vorthain was a logical individual was a safe assumption to make. But how to make the man think an escape was not immediately necessary? Or at the very least not immediately within reach? …Perhaps showing his weariness would lower the Vorthain’s own defenses?

Genji sighed again, albeit far more gently, and rubbed tiredly at his face. He lowered his hands and looked the Vorthain in the eyes again, allowing his face to settle into an expression of weariness. It was clear he was unused to such an expression…yet perhaps it would seem more genuine for that? “Few are granted the choice to become what they are, Vorthain,” he murmured. “Not even a count.” He crossed his arms and turned his head towards the darkened window. He could just barely see the sky, speckled with stars. It was already so late? He sighed again. “Perhaps we are both making hasty assumptions.” Genji spun on the spot, the hem of his kimono flaring out slightly around him, and he strode over to the door without even glancing at the Vorthain. He yanked the door open, then paused. “I shall consider your words, Vorthain. For tonight, at least, you shall remain in this cell. We will discuss the matter again tomorrow.” He exited the cell and shut the door behind him. “Rikuto…you will keep an eye on the Vorthain tonight,[/i][/color]” he said as he passed his guards. He made his way out of the dungeons, trailed by Mami and Hiroshi whilst Rikuto locked the door with the jailer’s keys. Now he needed to deal with Raiden.

Rikuto peered through the barred window in the door at the Vorthain. “Sleep well, Vorthain,” she murmured before heading towards the jailer’s room.

[Angmor]

Teiris hadn't been expecting much of a reaction, which was why he was so surprised when the Count's usually impassive face crumbled into a tired frown.
“Few are granted the choice to become what they are, Vorthain,” he murmured. “Not even a count.”
Teiris looked on as Lantieri turned away, feeling his eyes narrow. What was this, then? Out of all the possibilities he had considered for this conversation, this had not been one of them. How could it the man could go from cold captor to weary man of the world in bare seconds? It simply didn't make sense... Or then, perhaps it did. From what he had observed so far, Lantieri had been motivated by purely by personal gain. The man himself would probably claim it to be more complicated than that, but semantics aside, everything Teiris had witnessed so far indicated a simple desire for greater power. If that was true, the only reason the Count would act this way was if he had suddenly decided that he could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
He just wants to use me, just like everyone else.
Teiris was quite used to being considered like a commodity. Besides Myrei, everyone in his life had tried to control his destiny in some way. It was for that reason he held back the details of his eidetic memory, a decision for which he now felt vindicated. If the Count knew just how useful he could be, he doubted he would ever leave this place as anything less than a personal agent. He brushed the thoughts away, steeling his mind.
That won't happen. I'm going to get out of here, or die trying. I'm sick of being used. All I want is the freedom to decide the course of my own life. Is that really so much to ask?

“Perhaps we are both making hasty assumptions,” The Count said suddenly, as if deciding. Wheeling around, he strode confidently to the cell door where his bodyguards waited. Halfway out, he paused as if suddenly remembering his new, less dismissive attitude. “I shall consider your words, Vorthain. For tonight, at least, you shall remain in this cell. We will discuss the matter again tomorrow.” With that, the cell door was shut, the bolt sliding home decisively. Teiris waited, listening as the Count exchanged a few Itasan words, then to the sound of several slipper-clad feet receding down hallway, taking the torchlight with them. Suppressing the instinct to relax, Teiris waited in the darkness, listening. After a moment, his patience was rewarded.
“Sleep well, Vorthain,” He heard a woman whisper through the grate, probably Rikuto, before another set of feet padded away. At last, there was silence.

Teiris' shoulders slumped as he blew out a long, shuddering breath, expelling all of the pent up tension in his body. Cradling his aching head in his hands, he allowed all of the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders to crush him, just for a moment. His body felt sore all over, especially his back and shoulders where they had impacted with the wall; he could feel the bruises already forming. Even the effort of closing his eyes sent little lances of pain through his head where his face had struck the cobblestones that morning. That seemed like such a long time ago, he realized. When he had woken up that morning, his greatest immediate concern had been groceries. He had seen, done, and learned so much since then it almost sent his mind reeling to recall all of the details. He needed time to decompress, to think and meditate on events.
Well, now you have it. It's over. This long, crazy day is finally over.
Looking back over his actions, he could at least be certain of one thing; he had done the very best he could with what he had been given. He had played his hand, and held nothing back. He could rest in relative peace, knowing that there was nothing else he could have done.

He stood to his feet, hissing through his teeth at the pain the movement brought him. He thought to his usual nighttime rituals, but quickly dismissed the idea. He had no weapons to get ready, no alternate escape route, and it would do little good to barricade a door that was already bolted, even if he had the materials to do so. Hobbling to the other side of the cell, he lowered himself laboriously onto the bed of fresh straw he had been laid down for him. It was prickly and uneven, but at that moment, he could have been on the best of goose-down mattresses at his uncle's estate.
"Rest up," He could hear Tierce saying out of the past,
"It will be another long day tomorrow."
"Yes uncle," Teiris murmured. Wrapping his jacket more tightly around himself, he closed his drifted almost immediately to sleep.

To Be Continued...

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