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When one meets the likes of Garen, far from their minds would they think any bone of ill-intent in that body of his. By the way he speaks, his mannerisms, his cheery smiles, his very demeanor… it was as though you had met with the sunlight itself even on darkest night. Many think him a kind and generous man, full of wisdom and incapable of harsh speech lest it be words of warning at best. The man had his vices and dislikes, true, but nothing would ever seem to dent that peaceful exterior of his.
Though… not so to those he truly scorned.
There was a particular type of person that Garen could never get along with. Those in which he sensed their malice and evil misdeeds, even if below the surface. He had a keen eye for these types. Oft would he turn on said folk and reward them an early grave. He cared not if they happened to find the light or had changed their ways—they were tainted. Only choking when their true colors revealed at long last and threatened punishment by their peers.
And every time, Garen desired retribution. Mistakes were mistakes. But genuine intent could not change a person overnight.
Yet he’d meet his match in a person he immediately sensed as deplorable, yet could not touch. Easily within reach to give them what for, yet safeguarded by their one and only family remaining, who happened to be one of his beloveds…
Pyshiro… an older man that Garen could sense from the get-go was a slimy, no-good man. A gil-penching Ul’dahn merchant of sorts that reeked of ill-intent at all times. And there was little to nothing he could do when his partner, Ryme, went to bat for his dear uncle.
He knew Ryme was not one to be able to sense any sort of danger or harm in others. Ryme was a good-natured soul who saw only the good in others and believed earnestly in their character. That’s why Garen had been assigned his guard and assistant in the first place—the man was absolutely daft when it came to these sorts of things and oft would Garen need protect him from those that wished him ill-intent.
That was his role in life when it came to Ryme and the rest of his partners. To serve as a fierce protector that would fend off any who dare attempted to hurt their lot. Ryme especially held a soft spot in Garen’s heart, though unrequited is their love, that he continued to cherish and depend on.
Thus was the game on. Against a most underhanded enemy who was using Ryme to his advantage. Garen knew it to be true and he could tell by the look in Pyshiro’s eyes when their eyes would lock that he knew just as well. Always hanging onto Ryme every second of the day while he was there…
But not this time.
When next Pyshiro had come to visit, it happened to be during a rather untimely period where Ryme was fast asleep for a bell or two’s worth of napping. Garen had ‘welcomed’ the uncle inside on his arrival, saying that Ryme would be right with him—only to sideline the man once he was trapped inside. Just the two of them.
“You may have avoided me for awhile yet, but you are unlucky on this day. Ryme will not be joining us for a time.”
Garen bore his blade. A sign that he meant business and harm should it come to it.
Pyshiro merely scoffed, hands on his hips. “I know not what problem you have with me, but it seems like someone’s envious of my relationship with my nephew, no? Do you feel no shame in badgering his true family?”
Garen inched closer. Pyshiro took an unsteady step back.
“You may fool Ryme with ease, but I know your true character. A coward. One who hides behind their nephew’s back while using them for whatever misdeeds you have planned. Never were you here to spend your so-called quality time’ together. Tis always been for one reason or another to pilfer from our pantries and equipment for your sketchy business.”
The older man held up his hands as if in defeat, but his expression said otherwise as he taunted. “So you’ve got a vendetta against me. How precious. Threaten me all you like, but you are just as much the coward for doing this behind his back. Or has Ryme secretly sanctioned you to proffer this display for me? Highly doubtful that you have his permission, little assistant of his.”
Garen’s eyes saw red. He had every right to strike this man down where he stood. But he couldn’t. Not against Ryme’s own blood. Not without torching himself and earning Ryme’s ire for doing.
“Mark my words.” He hissed, bringing his blade up one final time. Close enough to slide against Pyshiro’s skin if he so wished. A telling yawn could be heard from the other room, of his partner’s awakening. “Your presence will not be suffered for much longer. Once Ryme knows of the man you truly are, your life will be forfeit. I will bring your schemes to light and take justice into my own hands. Whatever machinations you have plotted—leave Ryme out of it. Or not even his word will be enough to stay my blade.”
“Hmph.” Pyshiro brought his hand up to slowly lower the blade’s tip away from his face. In so doing, Garen could see the slightest flinch in the man’s movement. He was nervous. Despite his proud display that might suggest otherwise, he would still think twice before being nearly as brazen as he had been acting of late. Fear for one’s life has a way of doing that.
“If you’ve had enough of your fill airing your grievances, then I shall take my leave. To the kitchen.” He had brought with him some special bags of tealeaves only found in certain reaches of the realm. Today, Pyshiro had actually come bearing gifts for his nephew to enjoy his company. A rarity. But one that would likely end with a request for a favor or another.
Garen gave him one last scowling look before removing himself from the room. Oh, how he’d have loved wiping the arrogant smirk off of Pyshiro’s face. But he would endure it. For now.