Chapter Text
Between the starry speckles of dew, nestled in the grass, there was blood.
Oddly enough, they weren’t used to the sensation.
“Halt, state your name and business.” The other at the end of the sword glared at them and as Lucien turned to glare at them, they couldn’t help but freeze.
A breeze fluttered by, threading through roots fading white as his gaze softened. “Nei?”
The other stiffened, before shaking their head and jabbing the blade to Darsh’s throat. “Who told you that name? My commander did not mention any guests passing by.” They hissed, glowering down at Darsh.
He narrowed his eyes, studying the other for a moment before sighing. “My apologies. I’ll try to make this as quick as possible. Genesis 3:24.” Fire bursts into his palms, quickly forcing the other back. The fire spat and narrowed against an invisible blade, hissing at the other as Darsh calmly raised his weapon to the other. “So may I get the name of my adversary?”
They scowled. “And if I refuse?”
He smirked. “Then I hope your commander may be able to recognize you off your mangled remains alone.”
“I hope the same for your family then, fiend. You’ll refer to me as Kai, nothing more, nothing less.”
An odd request, but one easily fulfilled nonetheless. He considered forgetting, ending their battle and letting her memory float namelessly through a lonely sea, stuffed brim with bodies. Yet staring at the other, meeting that challenged reflection, he held her name, considered it.
Perhaps Gara was right.
Darsh rushed her, blade raised to slash her upper arm. Ready to sear her flesh raw, he figured he must’ve gone soft.
The old Darsh, the part bubbling somewhere in the back of his mind, watching with silent disdain, would’ve never entertained such trivial fights.
She was quick, stepping away nimbly in clunky armor that should’ve slowed them down. It was a distraction, now, he realized. To subconsciously deter any thoughts of the speed she was capable of. The speed that was the only reason to explain the blade hacked into his side.
It was messy, likely nothing more than an impulse breaking through untrained hands. It could’ve even been an accident judging by the wide look in her eyes. Then light danced through her shock. It was simple pride.
If she wasn’t careful, Darsh might grow fond of that childish naivety.
It was almost painful to watch that cheer turn to horror, as the wound cauterized around the blade, flames darting up the metal and melting it down. Curses spilled from their lips and for a second she almost released their blade. Her reactions were quick, but Darsh, no he was beyond that.
His hand caught their wrist, and pulled her down against him. It was cruelly unnecessary, and yet he always had found himself as such when injured. So at that moment he didn’t even blink as she cried out to the heat exerting from him. It pressed against the metal of their armor and turned the silver to red, baking them from the inside of their own protection.
They tried to pull away from him, only finding the hairs on the back of their neck singed as the sword, clutched in Darsh’s hand crackled at the back of her throat.
“Don’t move.” He tilted his head, observing her and seeming to consider something. “And maybe, I won't really hurt you.”
They made a slightly pained noise of acknowledgement, words hidden through gritted teeth as she glared down at an apathetic Darsh.
He allowed the heat simmering their suit to cool, watching her shoulders relax slightly before quickly jumping back on guard. “You said your commander was Nei?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” They snapped, their eye twitching.
“Yes or no? Don’t forget where you are.”
They grumbled, glancing out the corner of their eye. “Yes. She does go by that name.”
He hummed tilting his head. “And where is she now?”
Their expression twisted and they shook their head. “I’m not telling you.”
Darsh grumbled, quickly raising the temperature until he could smell her burn. “I don’t have time for this, where is she and how long will she be staying there?”
Kai cried out, their anger contorting to pain as she struggled to choke the words out. “I- I don’t know! The last I knew she was meeting with the Ninja Master and to wait here for further instruction but I haven’t heard from her since!” They sobbed.
He sighed, releasing her and returning his sword to his side.
Kai fell back, panting to catch their breath, while their hands shakily went to strip off their armor. He turned his back to her, considering their words carefully. He hadn’t minded that he missed her as much as the risk he killed her in his blind fury while inside the damned tower. Then again, he hoped she wasn’t that easy to kill.
“Hold it, fiend.” The words wavered out of their mouth as Darsh sighed.
He turned to her, narrowing his eyes at them. “You are not serious.”
Their hands clasped a crystal tied around their neck that he hadn’t noticed before, likely hidden beneath the now stripped away armor.
“I’m not done.” They grit, squeezing the crystal. “I won’t let my commander down. I am going to kill you!” They screamed the words, gripping the dirt beneath them with a fire in their eyes that rivaled the heat of the fires glowing at Darsh’s palms.
He guessed they were more formidable than he originally thought. Which was solidified even more as the ground began to shake.
He managed to take a singular step back as the ground erupted, dirt flying as a sharp whistle sound breaking into a loud cry. Overlapping it came the deranged laughter of none other than Kai.
Maybe he underestimated her, maybe the old Darsh would enjoy fighting against them.
He jumped back readjusting the grip on his sword as the dust settled, absently he noticed it wasn’t colored as dark as the dirt, no, instead it fell gray.
A hiss echoed through the valley as Darsh looked up to meet the eyes of a cockatrice. Normally a fatal mistake, he was grateful to find a more common version of the already rare serpent. However its glare was sharp enough to consider it not knowing its look wouldn’t kill him.
He wasn’t given long to analyze the beast as it quickly began charging him, the pouches on the side of its throat swelling with a sharp whistling inhale. Darsh scrambled away, new plan. Smoke bloomed behind him and as Darsh passed the statues, it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. He rolled behind a cluster of statues, quickly casting an illusion spell beneath his breath before escaping, a plume of ashy gray covering his escape.
Distantly, Darsh clambered his way into a tree resting atop a thick branch and glaring at Kai riding the giant cockatrice. Kai was careful to examine the statues where Darsh had last been seen, leaving behind a convincing statue of himself struggling to escape. The beast had its head lowered to the ground, letting Kai view the statues without having to let them get off. Not that Darsh would be stupid enough to try and charge them anyways.
The tree at least offered a moment of safety, giving time to comb through the best spell to handle this thing. If Darsh’d fought a cocktrice before, his memory was completely failing them. The beasts were rare enough that Darsh wasn’t sure there even was a way to defeat them.
“Mirrors are good.”
Darsh jumped and turned to the little dragon beside him, happily wagging his tail as he stared down at Kai and their cockatrice. Lars looked back up to Darsh. “Mirrors are usually a good way to kill them.” He repeated.
Darsh gave a quiet hum, nodding his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He whispered, his eyes focused on another possible weak point.
Suddenly the cockatrice whistled, quickly lifting its head, lashing its tail in irritation as it seemed to look around frantically. Kai placed their hand on it carefully, speaking to it inaudibly whilst gripping their crystal with her other hand.
The beast hissed, turning its head to the tree in which Darsh was hiding. He stilled, feeling sweat start to bead on his forehead.
He didn’t want to kill it, but his spells weren’t built to do that. His magic was offensive, and so rarely defensive. Yet as the cockatrice’s pouch began to swell he doubted he’d be given a choice.
“Distract it.” Darsh commanded, jumping out the tree, still cloaked in illusions not even giving Lars the chance to respond.
Lars gave a confused squawk, turning his attention to Darsh before quickly realizing he needed to get out of the way. Lars barely managed to fly away as a cloud of gas fired at the tree.
The cockatrice was undeterred to see Lars fluttering away, huffing the air and opening its mouth to reveal uncanny human teeth beneath the shell of its beak.
It was tracking him, he realized, his illusions only buying him seconds of time before the cockatrice would eventually sniff him out. But those seconds should buy him just enough time.
Lars knew better than to glance at Darsh, yet the support would’ve been nice as Lars dove to the cockatrice. It’d just released the petrifying gas, and it would take at least 3o seconds to properly refill its pouch, giving him maybe 20 seconds to attack and then escape to a far enough distance the gas wouldn’t reach.
Taking a breath, Lars dove at the cockatrice, going for its comb and biting at it, earning a pained shriek as Lars practically tried to rip it off.
Kai cursed under their breath, unsheathing their sword to prepare and strike at the dragon.
As Darsh processed the sound of metal scraping against its sheath he released his illusion magic. Dripping off of him like water and accumulating in his sword, darting beneath the beast he raised his sword, slashing upwards to the left pouch of the beast.
The cockatrice turned its head down to Darsh, arching its back and bucking Kai off as the blade pierced its flesh, earning a pained cry.
Kai fell back into the ground, dirt and rocks bruising against their barely cooled flesh, still agitated from the burns.
Darsh kept the flames cool enough not to cauterize the wound, watching powdery snowflakes drift from the wound, sprinkling around him. A flake fell to his hand, hardening into less than a centimeter of his skin. For a moment he was too entranced to be worried.
It took Lars ramming into him to realize he should probably move.
The dragon desperately flapped his wings to deter the dust, slamming his head against Darsh’s shoulder. Darsh scrambled away, making sure Lars was close behind as he ran.
The cockatrice slammed its head to the ground, beak stuck into the dirt as they released a low hiss, gas seeping from their still intact pouch and the gaping wound, beginning to clog with blood and mingle the powder.
As Darsh made his escape he fell, tripping over the other on the ground and earning a sharp cry from them.
The cockatrice practically broke its head out of the ground as it rushed to Kai’s defense, carefully pulling the knight away by her collar.
They stood over Kai defensively, lashing its tail and glaring down at Darsh as he rose to his feet. He noticed the cockatrice had stopped fuming powder, careful to stand over Kai without its mingled ash dripping onto the other.
His eyes flickered to their hands to see the crystal had been released and it was simply delivering this act of protection of its own free will.
Cockatrice were a rare, mystical species, everything he’d ever known and learned about them had been skeptics and whispers. It’d make sense to preserve the beast, to spare it simply to protect the species.
But there was fire itching at his palms and the monsters blood would surely be enough to douse them
He raised the sword to the air, speaking underneath his breath. “Holy fire, cast these sinners out.” The blade split into several slimmer blades, spinning fire into a wicked halo as it lifted from Darsh’s hands and began to target it on the cockatrice. The beast only made an effort to shelter Kai with its wings, turning its head warralily to the nearing fire.
Kai perked up at this movement, looking up to see the halo spinning above the cockatrice, blade’s tipping to point to its throat. As Kai processed the events they turned to Darsh with wide eyes. “Wait!”
Darsh faltered at the cry, only freezing completely when they felt a light tug on their hair. He paused, sighed and looked at the dragon hovering beside him with his hair in his teeth.
“What are you doing?” His voice was completely drained as he met Lars' eyes, his gaze seeming even colder than the reptiles.
Lars gave another tug to Darsh’s hair, glaring at the other with the best angry expression a dragon could muster. “Lucien said to get you when you started acting funny. That’s what I’m doing.”
Darsh blinked. “Did they?”
“Yes. And right now you are acting very, very funny!” Lars exclaimed, pulling even harder at his hair.
Darsh made a grumbled noise of complaint, waving his hand at the dragon and inadvertently, canceling the spell. He glanced back to see the swords rise over the cockatrice’s head and clink together, a surprisingly silent sound before crumbling to ash, sprinkling over the beast and its owner.
Lars relaxed at this, releasing Darsh’s hair and landing on his shoulder, almost knocking the man to his feet before quickly hopping off. Darsh stumbled forward, gripping his head before glancing back up to Kai, watching him warily.
They reached out to him, beginning to speak before presumably thinking better of it and resting their hand back in their lap.
“We’ll call it a draw this time around.” They announced instead, keeping their head low as they instead turned their hand to ease the serpent guarding them. “We’ll fight again another time, fiend. Go lick your wounds and dare not return, not unless fate declares it.”
Darsh huffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” He turned his back to her, keeping his arm close to his injured side, he was sure he tore back open while fighting. It would certainly explain the warm liquid he could feel growing against the side of his shirt.
___
“Good morning, Darsh.”
Darsh grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as a gentle warmth tickled along his cheek.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can’t sleep in the woods.” The other’s chuckle reverbated in his chest like his own heartbeat, or perhaps more like the buzzing of a fly too close. He forced an eye open to see the man looking down at him with a teasing grin.
“Fuck off, Gara, it’s too early.” Darsh shut his eyes close again, pulling the bodies of warmth beside him closer.
The man laughed again, the pressure against his cheek leaving as Darsh processed it to be his finger, pushing back a loose lock of hair. Only for warmth to quickly return as a flick to the forehead.
He reopened his eyes, glaring at Gara furiously as he still refused to move. “Why wake me first?”
Gara snickered. “Cause you’re the most fun, of course.”
“Gee, thanks.” He replied dryly, struggling to shift up as the others against him refused to budge. “Nei, get up, you’re crushing my shoulder.”
The younger girl, yet still managing to be way taller than possible, only grumbled in response.
“Nei, you’re killing him, you’re killing Darsh, you know he’s not that strong.” Gara said flatly, earning a much quicker reaction from Nei.
“What the hell?” Darsh grumbled. “I can literally pick you up, Nei. You weren’t killing me, we just have stuff to do today.” He stretched his arms out, narrowing his eyes at the girl as she only yawned and gave a dismissive wave to him.
“I can never be too sure with you.” She smiled lazily, sleepiness still sticking to her movements and slowing her just slightly.
He rolled his eyes, going to the boy still snoozing in his lap. “Come on, you too, get up.”
He only grumbled in response, speaking completely unintelligibly.
“Come on, wake up. I gotta make breakfast.” He shook him gently, earning an exaggerated whine.
The boy slowly forced himself up, shaking his head. “Are we having eggs?” His voice was groggy and hoarse, almost unheard through Darsh’s own sleep muddled ears.
“Sure, why not.” Darsh hummed.
Gara clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Ah, no dice, we ran out yesterday. All we got is hashbrowns.”
The boy wrinkled his brow before flopping his head back down on Darsh’s lap, causing the other to huff. “Today’s no more. Gara, go get eggs. It’s the only way I’ll be able to survive.”
“I am not supplying your egg addiction.”
He groaned. “I hate it here, I’m running away…” He paused, taking a content sigh. “After one more nap.”
Darsh laughed, sleep slowly slipping away. “Of course.”
“You think I’m lying. You don’t believe me, do you?” The boy grumbled glaring at the other.
“Of course I don’t, you say that like five times a week.” He scoffed.
“Just you wait-” He yawned, already seemingly drifting off. “When I do run away, you’ll eat those words.”
Darsh snickered, ruffling his hair, leaning his head back comfortably. “Of course, Lars.”
___
When Darsh opened his eyes, the grass was still damp and it was soaked through with more than just dew. He fluttered his eyes, flexing his fingers to find small scales and feathers beneath them. He glanced down to the small dragon on his lap, nose pressed against his bleeding wound, covered in torn cloth and producing a dull ache.
He’d almost forgotten those times. The more tame part of being alive, the peaceful moments. Why he had bothered with life for so long.
Darsh gave a small huff of laughter, thumping his head back against the tree he didn’t even remember passing out against.
It was funny, even past death, Lars was still trying to keep him alive.
Even when he was the reason he was like this in the first place.
The thought immediately turned on itself and Darsh quickly sunk it away, his gaze softening on the dragon. It wasn’t his fault. Not really, and it hurt to try and blame it on him. No, it was that stupid high priest. Valuing his own life more than others, corrupted with fear and paranoia, willing to do whatever he deemed necessary to attack any whisper in the dark. Despite whether that whisper was even real or not.
He was aware he promised Yoko not to kill Geo anymore after their last scuffle, but maybe he could just get one more last punch in.