“I’m disappointed in you, Kyazf,” Hyalbtz said as he paced back and forth. Kyazf held his arm, his heart beating rapidly. “You knew the ritual would be starting soon and you still ran off? To do what, exactly?” He asked, looking sharply at him.
Kyazf opened his mouth to speak, but was afraid to. Slowly, he sputtered out, “I, uh, I-I wanted to get more sacrifices for- for you. I knew if I got someone like Akae it-“
“You wanted to sacrifice Akae?” He interrupted, getting up and close to his face, the putrid smell of decay burning his nostrils. “Are you mad? I can’t puppet him if I had sacrificed him!” He shouted, smacking him upside the head. It didn’t actually hurt, but the unexpectedness of it sent him staggering.
“I’m sorry, I, I wasn’t thinking. Please, forgive me! I just wanted you to be as strong as you possibly could, I promise.”
Hyalbtz sighed, taking a step back. He cupped Kyazf’s face, both threateningly and lovingly. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Kyazf dear. But you need to put that brain of yours to use. I wouldn’t want you being a liability, would I?”
“No. No, you wouldn’t,” he murmured, looking down. He felt embarrassed to be shamed like this, and in front of the Angalts no less. He could see them snicker and chuckle. He swallowed hard to bury his pride. “I promise to do better next time, my love.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, pressing his cold deflated lips to Kyazf’s warm plump lips. He then pulled away, patting his head. “You’re lucky the ritual was a success. If I had failed I would’ve possessed you as a backup plan. Now, go rest. We have a lot to plan tomorrow,” he said before walking away.
Kyazf stood there for a solid minute, trying to pull his thoughts back together. They were scattered like leaves as he desperately tried to rake them in. Slowly he walked to the basement where he slept. He rubbed his eyes as a sudden wave of drowsiness hit him. “Maybe I should’ve followed Cassius’ plan. Fuck this,” he whispered to himself as he descended the stairs, each step heavier than the last. “I was right to be on edge when he first bought me. How could I have let my guard down?” He asked as he entered his room. It was cold and dank as he plopped down on his freezing bed, the flash of heat from the shame he felt warming it straight up.
“I should go talk to An’thaehl, but- I really don’t want to get up. The bed is so comfy for once,” he murmured, nuzzling his head into the hard pillow. He let his eyes slowly drift close, even as he heard knocking at the window leading to the outside. He couldn’t move as his body was heavy like lead, and he fell into the abyss of a deep, deep sleep.
The next day rapidly came as Sorchæ came down the steps to the basement to retrieve Kyazf. She entered his room, finding him lying face down in the same position that he fell asleep in. He was quiet. Oddly quiet. She cocked an eyebrow as she approached him, trying to shake him awake, but it was no use.
“Cone on Kyazf, wake up! Hyalbtz needs you,” she hissed, slapping the back of his head to see if it would wake him, but it didn’t. She then flipped him over slowly, revealing that his face was covered in constantly moving tattoos, tendrils writhing about without any rhyme or sense to it.
“Depressive sleep. Shit,” she said simply, rubbing the nape of her neck. She stared at the chaotic tattoos, her lips pressed into a thin line. They certainly weren’t new to her, but it was odd seeing it on someone else- someone as tough as Kyazf. It made her uneasy. She hesitated for a moment before turning sharply on her heel and climbing back up the stairs.
It didn’t take long to find Hyalbtz, knowing he was in the dining room with a few other Angalts waiting for Kyazf’s arrival. Ancient texts, blank parchments and scratched notes littered the dining table.
Hyalbtz frowned upon seeing Sorchæ alone, though continued to write. “What happened this time?”
She cleared her throat, “Kyazf fell into a depressive sleep. Judging by how chaotic the tattoos are on his face- it’s pretty serious. We may not be able to wake him up in time for our next plan of action.”
Hyalbtz froze mid-sentence, the quill in his hand hovering just above the parchment. His sunken, decayed eyes darted to her, and his lips twisted into a sneer. "Of course he is," he muttered, throwing the quill aside. “That boy has been teetering on the edge since the first day I found him.”
“If we don’t deal with him soon, he’ll be permanently consumed.”
Hyalbtz let out an exasperated sigh, standing up and brushing off the peeled skin from his ruined robes. “I don’t have time for this,” he growled, more to himself than to her. “The ritual has drained most of my strength and it’ll take me a while to recover. Babysitting his fragile emotions is the last thing I need right now.”
Kyazf’s room felt colder than usual, the air thick with an almost palpable sadness. Hyalbtz wrinkled his nose at the oppressive energy radiating from the prone figure on the bed. He approached Kyazf slowly, his eyes narrowing at the writhing tattoos covering his face.
"Pathetic," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual venom. His expression softened for a bit as he observed him, before returning to its hardened glare. He placed a skeletal hand on Kyazf's chest, feeling the faint pulse of life beneath the chaos. His breathing was shallow, his body limp, as though he’d been drained of all will to live.
Hyalbtz leaned down, his voice sharp but with a trace of urgency. “Kyazf. I don’t have the patience for your self-pity. Wake up. Now.”
When there was no response, Hyalbtz gritted his teeth. He waved his hand over Kyazf's face, muttering an incantation under his breath. A dark, shimmering mist began to form, sinking into the tattoos as they flared in protest.
Still, Kyazf didn’t stir.
Hyalbtz clicked his tongue in irritation. “So, you want to stay trapped in your mind, do you? Fine. I’ll pull you out myself.”
He leaned closer, placing both hands on Kyazf’s temples. His cold fingers dug into Kyazf’s skin as his eyes glowed with an eerie light. The tattoos moved at a more erratic pace, as if warning Hyalbtz to back off. Still, Hyalbtz dug his bony figures deeper, penetrating his skull in a gory display. Retracting his hands, dark clouds stuck to his fingers that he wiped away on his robes, dissipating them. The end joints in six of fingers were missing.
The tattoos quieted to an even rhythm, though didn’t fully retract. Kyazf suddenly jolted, his eyes snapping open as he gasped for air, looking up at Hyalbtz in a mix of fear and gratitude.
Hyalbtz took a step back to give him some space. “How are you feeling?” He asked, almost in concern the way his eyebrows furrowed.
“I, I uh. I’m alright, thanks to you,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
The look of concern quickly disappeared. “Good. We need you for the meeting. Next time you feel like giving up, remember who you belong to,” he hissed, sweeping out of the room, leaving Kyazf sitting on the bed, shaken but alive.
Hyalbtz took a seat back in the dining room as he observed everyone sitting there. Only two people weren’t under his influence, and he noticed how much more lively they were than the ones under his possession. No doubt he was thinking about how much longer he had until they died and became mindless zombies. The thought disappeared as Kyazf finally arrived, eyes drooped as he shuffled in.
“How nice of you to join us. Take a seat,” he commanded, and Kyazf obeyed, sitting next to him like his prized pet.
During the meeting, Kyazf struggled hard to stay awake, barely paying attention to when he was called on to talk. Each time he drifted dangerously on the edge of sleep, he felt a pulsing in his mind, as if an external voice commanded him to stay awake. It gave him a pounding headache, especially with the six gaping holes in his skull, but still, he felt a drive to listen to everything Hyalbtz had to say.
“And Kyazf, dear,” Hyalbtz said, facing him as he lifted up his head so their eyes met. “Do you have anything you’d like to share?” He asked, expecting a specific response.
Kyazf bit his lip as the words began to form in his mind, threatening to drop out of his wounds and expose the plan he made with the group at the embassy.
“I can see the fight in your eyes, my dear,” Hyalbtz said softly as he cupped his cheeks, his thumb rubbing over his mutton chops. “Whatever it is, you won’t be penalised. This time. We just want to help you see the light,” he said sweetly, planting a kiss on his third eye.
Kyazf became flustered as he was kissed, feeling a spark that he hadn’t felt since they started dating. The confession just spilled out of his mouth: “The Benoists are aware you drugged me, and had the ambassador break it. They were going to use me to feed them information secretly! I’m so sorry my love, I see the error of my ways,” he cried out, genuine tears forming as he looked up at him with reverence.
Hyalbtz’ fingers clawed into his jaw for a second, angered. “The ambassador? That traitor,” he muttered to himself, and then looked back at Kyazf. “It’s a good thing I possessed you then, my dear. From now on you won’t have to worry about betraying me. I expect nothing but utter devotion from you from now on. Understand?” He stroked the side of his face.
“Yes, my love.” He leaned into his touch, sighing as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders.
“Tell me, my dear, what do you think is an appropriate response to this treachery? I’ve given the Benoists such good grace, and they dared to stab me in the back? Such a thing can’t go unpunished.”
He thought for a minute before speaking: “Invade the embassy? Maybe murder the loved ones of the Benoists?”
“I like the way you think, dear Kyazf. After my strength has fully returned we can invade. As of now? Let’s target them. Let’s see how they like it when we strip them of their loved ones. But who do we start with?”
“Maybe An’thaehl? He’s waiting outside for me to collect information, I could easily sneak attack him.”
“Tempting, but no. Hm. Teach him a lesson maybe, but don’t kill him. Maybe Havre. I know Lord Benoist isn’t fine of her, but Garbone. They truly love her,” he said, playing with Kyazf’s hair.
“Didn’t you promise to leave her alone for information about the sleeping goddess?” Duosg asked.
“That was before the ambassador went back on his promise to not interfere with my plans. Can you do that for me, Kyazf?”
“Yes. Should I use the transportation spell you gave me to beat An’thaehl back to the embassy?”
“No, let him reach the embassy first. We’ll make a plan to draw out Havre so you can strike her. With her depression it’ll be difficult to motivate her, but I’m sure Garbone will handle it for me. Go now, Kyazf, before An’thaehl suspects anything and flees.”
With a parting kiss on the lips, Kyazf stood from his seat and left the room. He stumbled slightly as he walked, exiting the estate.
An’thaehl waited with bated breath in the woods, worried for Kyazf as he never answered his knocks. He suddenly turned to face the direction of the estate, noticing Kyazf. A shiver ran through his wings as something was off with him. The tattoos were writhing in a slow pace, and his eyes were dazed, unfocused. He also couldn’t help but notice the small gaping holes in his skull.
“K-Kyazf? What happened to you? Did they figure out what happened?”
He waited to answer as he approached him, pushing him further into the dense woods where he knew he couldn’t easily fly away. “Everything’s fine,” he finally said.
An’thaehl’s feathers bristled as he backed away, his talons digging into the forest floor. His instincts screamed at him that something was wrong- terribly wrong.
“Kyazf,” he said, his voice trembling, “I know you’re lying. Tell me what’s going on! Please!”
Kyazf tilted his head, his expression vacant. His tattoos shifted lazily. “I said everything’s fine,” he repeated, his tone eerily calm. “You’re the one acting strange, An’thaehl. Why are you running from me?”
“I’m not running,” An’thaehl stammered, his wings twitching nervously. “I just... I’m worried about you. This isn’t like you.”
Kyazf took another step closer, forcing An’thaehl to retreat further. “I don’t need your worry,” Kyazf murmured, his voice dropping to a chilling monotone. “I need you to stop getting in the way.”
“What?” An’thaehl gasped, but he barely had time to process the words before Kyazf lunged at him.
The first punch connected with a sickening crack, sending An’thaehl sprawling onto the forest floor. He barely managed to scramble to his feet before Kyazf was on him again, fists flying with unnatural speed and precision.
“Kyazf! Stop!” An’thaehl cried out, raising his arms to shield his face. “This isn’t you! Whatever Hyalbtz did to you, fight it!”
But Kyazf didn’t respond. His blows came faster and harder, each one landing with a force that seemed far beyond his normal strength. An’thaehl’s wings flared, desperate to lift him out of range, but Kyazf grabbed him by the feathers and yanked him back down.
“You always think you know what’s best for me,” Kyazf hissed, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. “But you don’t. You never did. All you do is hold me back!”
“I’m trying to help you!” An’thaehl shouted, clawing at Kyazf’s arm in a desperate attempt to break free. “This isn’t you, Kyazf! You’re stronger than this!”
Kyazf snarled, slamming An’thaehl into a tree. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for a moment, the forest was filled with the sound of ragged breathing. Kyazf leaned in close, his eyes wide and unblinking.
“Stronger?” he repeated, his voice dripping with venom. “You don’t know what strength is. Strength is doing whatever it takes to survive. To win. That’s what Hyalbtz has taught me. And you... you’re just another obstacle.”
An’thaehl’s vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus. Through the haze of pain, he saw the faint flicker of hesitation in Kyazf’s eyes, a brief glimmer of the man he once knew.
“Kyazf,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You don’t have to do this. You’re not his puppet. You’re... you’re my friend.”
For a split second, Kyazf froze. His grip loosened. But just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he shoved An’thaehl to the ground.
“Friendship won’t save you,” Kyazf said coldly, raising his head as he looked away. “But go ahead, run back to the pathetic friends you do still have. Warn them that we’re coming,” he hissed, walking back out of the woods and into the estate. An’thaehl hesitated, before standing up and flying away in his dragon form.