User blog:Snowraven710/Sanguine Fall

Soter stared, breathless. His sides heaved, aching. It was a feeling akin to having one's lungs set on fire, driven to the point where he had asked more of his body than it could possibly spare. A long, uneasy, but persistent ache. Blood spewed in a slow and even string from his lower lip, dribbling on his chest plate, staining the leather a dirtied brown, just to run into the open tear where Sanguis had nearly landed a fatal blow. The droplets did little to increase the agony in total, but more centered spikes of pain came from where they had entered his wound. The thick cut across his chest burned with an almost unreasonable fire. Soter knew for certain Sanguis's glaives had cut deep; he was lucky that the blades had missed major arteries. Most of them, at least.

His vision was somewhat blurred, from blood, sweat, or exhaustion, he did not know, most likely a combination of all three, but what he was certain of was that the sight before him was one of the most relieving things he had ever witnessed. A puddle of thick, murky scarlet blood. It was something Soter would've never considered to be relieving, even in the most violent moments of his past. But it was all that was between him and Sanguis now. The insane tyrant was pinned to the wall by his own weapons, one of his two warglaives on either wrist, blades pushed into the wall's bulging pillars just above his hands. Sanguis was pinned spreadeagle, defenseless. It was a position reminding Soter of an execution, which ironically he knew might soon befall Sanguis.

Soter stumbled closer to the berserker, his legs aching furiously and only just baring the strain of his own body. He knew that the foul Skilner still glared at him, though he too hung over with the weight of his fatigue from the extensive battle that had just occurred.

He kept a tight grip on his warhammer, using it like a staff, as he pushed himself to his feet, gasping as his body flinched involuntarily. A fresh tide of agony came rushing out of his wounds, like a counterpart of his own blood. Soter could only just force his head up to allow his eyes to meet Sanguis's. It was with the still thriving tension between them that Sanguis's raw and raspy voice met his ears.

“You could do it now, Wildblood. Kill me. You know everything that I've done, all the people I've slaughtered, so what are you waiting for?”

Squinting, Soter scowled at the warrior, refusing to take the bait from Sanguis's taunt.

He chuckled, “Come now, Soter. We aren't so different, now are we? It would seem we both like the splash of crimson upon our skin. So why don't you continue the pattern?”

With great exasperation, Soter responded. “We are far from the same, Sanguis. I've spent these last few years proving exactly that.”

Sanguis snorted, “By doing what? Exactly what Cruelon tells you to? You're his lackey, just like I was Eisen's... at least there I got some recognition. Face up to it, Soter. Whether you want to be or not, I know one day, you'll be chained as I am. Be it to your responsibilities, your kin, your rank... You will be helpless...” He paused, looking at the ceiling listlessly, like some alien entity was moving his limbs. He gave a rapid push with his forearms against the binds, the fore shaking the metal. Sanguis had moved in a zombie-like fashion, as though devoid of intelligence, though his eyes suggested otherwise. It was an unsettling sight to see his head and limbs move so aimlessly, jerkily. “Just someone's pawn to direct. A resource...”

“Maybe Cruelon can make you a resource then.” Soter said gruffly, heaving while trying to catch his breath as he leaned against the wall for support. Soter questioned the other man's interests now. Sanguis would gain nothing by trying to manipulate him now, as Soter was set in ignoring any words of persuasion that the Skilner had. But he couldn't have anticipated the expression dawning upon Sanguis's face as he finished his sentence. Fear shown in Sanguis's eyes.

Sanguis tilted his head to the side, further than Soter would've thought possible. He let out a sickening groan. “You think Cruelon would use me as an opportunity? For what, the most recent example on how insane one becomes when living with a God inside their head? I am at my end. My death is certain. It is where his path has taken him, something that would happen without failure because of how fate played out. It is the outcome he and I caused by releasing Unguis all these moon cycles ago, an action that caused some greater being to pull the strings in our lives. I can see it now, with Unguis's haze lifted. He will kill me, and he will be without mercy.”

“Do you even deserve it? Mercy? Did you give Videre mercy?!” Soter felt some of his fatigue lift, newly risen anger forcing energy into his form.

“Unguis doesn't give mercy. You would know that better than most, wouldn't you, Soter? Dangling over the edge, begging and screaming in your final moments, terrified of what lies beyond because you realize all the horror you've put on this world, only to be greeted by silence? I saw while Unguis was... here.” Sanguis chuckled, then relented for a moment, looking as though he were about to expire without any further provocation.

"I can feel him inside of me, the scars he has left on my being, on what remains of my soul. He can still see through my eyes., though he has burned them to their sockets. Direct me, though my body has no strength left to answer. Influence me, though my mind is broken. I can feel how my own body isn't my own, even now as he lets me move on my own.” Sanguis finished, shaking and convulsing as though the God's raw aspect was still  actively coursing actively within him, though Soter realized it likely was.

Soter stared as Sanguis continued. His anger had faded, now replaced with the rising horror of what was soon to happen. If it's been Unguis the whole time...

“Do you know what the worst part of it is, Soter? That he knows I'll die soon. So he's just letting go. He's leaving me in my last moments with perfect sanity. The same thing I've been pleading for, screaming for, begging for, ever since he broke my will. Now he gives it back at the one moment I wish I could be lost in that sea of numbness. Because he wants to let me feel all of it. To feel how it is to die in agony, aware of the hatred everyone has for me. But that's how it is, I've been used up – I'm expendable now; Sound familiar? There's no way out, so why keep his influence any longer. I'm another moment of entertainment for whoever up there is watching. Sick, isn't it?” Sanguis muttered. “The thing is, Unguis is still getting what he wants. I'm an obstacle out of the way. Cruelon is still going to kill me. He's still holding control over Cruelon, even when he isn't attached to his skin.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Pressing the shaft of his hammer into the ground, Soter leaned upon the firm head atop it. Soter knew not what to ask, what to say. “What do you want, Sanguis?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">His mouth opened, drawing in a shallow breath. “I'm going to die no matter what happens, Soter. You couldn't reason with Cruelon or Wesen now, as if they would bother to listen anyway. I can't escape. You can't save me, nor would I expect you to. But you can show mercy. Kill me before Cruelon does. Before he makes me an example for Unguis in his self-righteous quest to become the great Doyen of myth.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Soter remained solemn, thoughts deepening. ''No matter how the story really goes, Sanguis has been driven to a husk by Unguis, regardless if its of his accord. It's clear he has some regret for at least ending up in this state. But Unguis could still be inside of him now, making him say these things. If he's not, and Unguis has done what Sanguis suggests, then he's just been a meat puppet to all of Unguis's desires... none of this is Sanguis's fault. Ridiculous as it is, he's as innocent as one could possibly be when their body is being used as a vessel... But if it is Unguis then... I can't take any chances. Gods forgive me...''

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“You saw what you did, regardless, Sanguis. No one would let you live. Not after that. I can't be the one to decide your fate. I can't even be sure that you're telling the truth...” Soter whispered.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">The look of terror in Sanguis's eyes grew, his pupils dilated to become swollen black orbs in their amber pits. “Please Soter... I'm begging you...Have mercy upon me!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">There was a great tightening in his chest as Soter drew back, hearing the doors opening behind him with a thud. Soter had nearly forgotten that the Doyen would come eventually. But Cruelon was there now, and with Wesen from the second set of footfalls.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Sanguis looked at him, and at that moment Soter saw him not as the vile false Crusader who had torn asunder Friorel in a Civil War, but as the young Skilner who was now accepting that he was going to die. Soter closed his eyes, shuddering against the shiver riding up his spine.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Soter had hoped Sanguis would at least attempt to make this argument with Cruelon. He knew as soon as Sanguis's head fell once more, however, that it was over. When next he lifted his head, the defiant and unwavering face of rage had returned to power. The tortured and mortified soul inside was hidden, be it by Unguis's cloak or his own pride. Whatever it was, Soter held some amount of respect for the fearlessness, albeit only outwardly, that Sanguis now held as Cruelon and Wesen strode into the room.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">He compared it to a moment he hadn't experienced, that of when Iukuin had perished, but was certain it must've felt like this. It was, like Iukuin's fall, a moment that would always be hidden from the rest of the Union. The moment when the tyrant died, the moment when the Civil War ended. But Soter would know. He would know that whatever was told to the Union's leaders would be a lie, to make whatever happened ''acceptable. ''He would bare that weight. Not because of duty or honor, but because he knew that it would be a final respect to Sanguis. To not draw it out any longer than it already had been. For the people to go on knowing that one of their greatest champions had been bent and twisted in such a way like this was one thing, Soter knew. But that he had begged for a clean death, for mercy? That perhaps none of it was his fault? He knew how it would appear.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">And Cruelon would not be able to live with the world knowing he had committed such a murder.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">Cruelon and Wesen paused near the edge of the room, observing what had happened. Perhaps trying to get a clear picture of how to twist the story to their benefit. Cruelon, as the Doyen, would want the credit, because he had been the one to cause the Rebellion in the first place. But Soter had long planned out what would happen next in his head. He and Laminas had shared their thoughts of Cruelon, and Soter knew it was all strikingly true. The dialogue came to mind quickly;

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">''“He will be proud. He will be glorified. He will have been waiting, watching. Do you want to be beneath his thumb for the rest of your life? You've always been under someone, always taken orders. You're more than that Soter. You've shown that. You've led the Rebellion more than he has! You can make a stand before hundreds of Sanguine who would just love to rip your throat out! I've seen you march up to Generals, criticize their skills and then spit at their feet, and you're telling me that you can't tell Cruelon what you think? Show some of that famous pride that got your sorry hide bitten in the first place!”''

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Convenient.” Soter growled, snapping out of his thoughts. “Just too late to lend any aid, right Cruelon?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Wesen and Cruelon paid him no heed, as though it was a word unspoken. Soter's anger only grew now.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“How long were you waiting outside?” He asked, in a louder voice.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Cruelon narrowed his eyes at Soter for a moment, as though he were nothing but an annoying child demanding attention. Turning his attention to Sanguis, Cruelon cleared his throat.'' So that's all the acknowledgment I'll get? How oblivious are you right now, Cruelon? ''

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Soter watched as Sanguis reared his head now, growling at Cruelon. “You've come to talk then, son of defiance?” Sanguis grunted, baring his fangs. “I would've expected a more ceremonial approach from someone of such high standing. Always the difference between you and I. One for the action, one for the speeches...”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Soter awaited for Cruelon's cunning comment. But it did not come. Cruelon stared at Sanguis as though he were a swine, undeserving of even any form of reprimanding. The High Elf then simply strode up to the pinned Skilner, putting his hand under the warrior's feline chin. He gripped it between his fingers, sinking his fingernails into Sanguis's gums. Soter flattened his ears in disgust, seeing blood forming around Cruelon's fingers as the Skilner thrashed slightly. The Doyen pulled Sanguis's head upwards to look him in the eye, though Soter knew Sanguis wouldn't have abandon a glare even if he wasn't forced to look at him.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“No, Sanguis. That is where you and I are the same.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">The words chilled Soter, the amount of malice in Cruelon's usually calm and collected air. Sanguis's eyes widened in shock, Cruelon's plan now dawning upon him. Soter's breath caught in his throat as he stood, knowing what would happen next against all that he had hoped.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Cruelon jerked his arm in a fluid motion, a dull wheezing noise escaping from Sanguis's throat as his neck snapped.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“No!” The objection came from Soter's lungs more than his tongue, as he felt more of the force behind the rasping shout had came from his insides than his own willingness.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Soter took in the scene, disgusted and mortified, seeing the freshly made corpse's jaw bent in an inhumane angle, his throat splayed out, as though made of rubber. The outline of bone could be seen just under the skin, a sight both unearthly and unnatural. The blow had appeared so strong that even Sanguis's collar bone had been affected, looking as though it were forced slightly sideways, pushed down and cracked. Blood had began its steady stream from the corner of Sanguis's mouth, slow and weak, without the life behind it give force to the trickle. It was nauseating.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">It had not been what Soter had been expecting, even with all of his anticipation. Soter had assumed Sanguis would die, he'd accepted that from the second he had entered the great room where Sanguis had been awaiting him. But in his mind, Cruelon had sought the reasonable end. The end where he would site Sanguis for all of his wrongdoings, perhaps even give mercy enough for the warrior to rot away in a prison. Kill him in a way that wasn't so violent, even. He had not expected this, for the particularly brutal end to the once honorable Skilner, even with the recent actions he'd taken.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“What've you done?” Soter whispered.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“What you were too blind to do.” Cruelon grunted.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Wesen looked at the body, shuffling on his feet. Soter expected to see more rage on the Lycanthrope's face, but instead there was an uncertainty. A kind of confusion.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Cruelon tensed nearby. “Are you not satisfied, Wesen?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">The thinner elf looked at him. “It's just... I was expecting more than just... that.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“As was I.” Soter spoke up. “More from Cruelon. Not just that absent slaying. You didn't even look at him like he was a person... I remember a time where you said you'd called him brother.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“He didn't deserve mercy!” Cruelon screamed, causing Soter and Wesen to flinch. “What could Sanguis have possibly said that would've given his massacres justice!?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Swinging his weapon back into its sheathe, Soter's mind slammed to a halt upon Cruelon's questioning. “That Unguis was in control of him! That he was being used as a puppet, a prisoner to Unguis's will! But you just couldn't handle it if Sanguis had just been used, could you? You couldn't take it that maybe it was your responsibility for unleashing Unguis in the first place!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Cruelon didn't answer, while Soter let out a shaky breath. “Such a petty thing as personal pride can't be held by those like you, Cruelon. Sanguis could've been saved.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“It's not in the nature of Therianthropes to lead without emotion.” Cruelon said softly.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“Race has nothing to do with it, and you know it. Mercy is the greatest thing you could've granted him. I would've thought that you would've given him the chance to die alone and in self-loathing before you snapped his neck. But now there is no mercy to be granted. Just a corpse as empty as this conflict was. But it's over. You won your war, Cruelon. But what are the wages you paid? That you've made others pay?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Wesen looked at the body, seemingly unable to make any remark at all. Soter had the sickly dark gratification that his words were having more of an impact upon Wesen than Cruelon now. Keeping his gaze away from Wesen, he now saw that Cruelon was becoming more emotional, more unreasonable, and to some extent Soter knew that Cruelon was even grieving.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">“I didn't ask for you to come here and become everyone's hero, Soter. I asked for you to serve your people, and now you stand here, to ridicule my choices? I am your Doyen!” Cruelon snapped.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Soter rose slightly, glaring down at Cruelon. A hot rage had started to burn at the back of his throat. “The Ferus Regno aren't my people. The Skilner are my people. You are no longer a Doyen that I would answer to. You've become childish; conceded and selfish – I serve the Ferus Regno no longer. The Union is where I belong.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">Wesen swallowed hard against a rising lump in his throat, an air of both disappointment and fear about Soter's fellow Dirige now become evident. “Cruelon?”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in">He waited only a few moments after for Cruelon to make an argument – an effort – on the behalf that Soter should remain. When no such words came, the Onithrope turned, his back to the Doyen. Soter lifted his head to face the door way and set his sights on the light shining from outside, before taking a step towards the opened doors.