it’s not unusual to see the sky weep. burdened with aimless sentiment, reflective of humanity’s desultory afflictions, it reconciles with the ignorance of history — of human existence and its ravenous treachery. they fight, they ravage, they murder and love — an assorted brutality known only to the minds of those alive. the dead fear the living, as it is their legacies subjected to the cosmos’s unruly deliberations. only those who may return from the netherworld may compete with fate’s bedlam, a consorted blessing and punishment to ‘ the accursed . ’
with such an amenity to be utilized — resurgence, no less — what comes of his isolation? in a room filled with supplementary tones, both feminine and masculine of the sort, the immortal is disfigured by a reclusive tendency to loiter in the room’s corner ( when not spectating persons susceptible to his manipulation, that is ). neither nurse nor doctor pays him any heed, as though a shadow of the wall, a skeleton of the weather. shaded by the draft of rain pattering against vastness of windows, amber hues are transfixed to the immobility of a slumbering fleuret. recovery suits him ill, distinguishing his defeat — a slaughter of his pride as a foreign limb acclimatizes his flesh. the lucii are not merciful.
medical attendees, cooperative and simultaneous in their movements about his body, probe, delve, and admire their work with the merger of intravenous wires scaling ravus’s anatomy. not an organ was missed, it would seem — though the majority of arterial supplies had converged upon tragedy of arm. implication of scar tissue seethes through layered bandages, ravus’s stately countenance surviving the turmoil of ardyn’s counselled operation. the bird was wounded, he needn’t chirp in the chancellor’s ear to plead for help, and yet — testimonial of ravus’s bidding elicited a fable from the imperial; that the fleuret ‘ aspired for preservation of his wounded body , ’ no matter what that entailed. only in pursuing magitek assistance would he be sustained. mortality deferred — infection subdued – ardyn has him right where he wants him.
personae scuttle out of the room, anonymous in their tamper with the atmosphere’s weighted silence. the void ascends from seated obscurity once alone with the patient; ardyn’s stride thwarted by tempest’s ambiguity. the rain hisses from adjacent, translucent barrier, muffling travel of endearing ankles. his boots readily collect their immediacy, appendages earnest in their modest collection. he takes ravus’s hand.
temperament unscathed, remorse a fictitious embrace — ardyn’s reserved squeeze unifies their successive encounter. several days had elapsed, bordering the length of a fortnight, and still they are without communication. the medication inducing his coma, having been removed earlier this afternoon, bridges the gap of their realities. ravus’s body did not reject the prosthesis, no doubt a product of methodical inaccessibility for the oracle, promoting feat along lips as they press into a line of victory. i win. bleep of machinery pronounces ravus’s heartbeat, and in the enduring presence of ardyn’s palm, he awakens. ‘ you spoil me … so soon , ravus . ’ mumbles wager — fluster ravus’s enunciation and coax ardyn closer to the mouth in struggle. the fleuret need not raise his voice, not after what ardyn has made of him.
“ ——— lunafreya … ? ”
mortification twinges ardyn’s anatomy; forename stitching the length of his arm and noosing the breadth of his neck. he nearly chokes upon ravus’s misperception; the gods surely gloating in the aftertaste of the oracle upon his own, foul tongue. offense acts upon its own, withdrawing his grace from ravus’s hand to bury it in the resentment of his own pockets. they are together no more; the accursed an affronted tenderness wilting beneath the aggressor of this sister’s manifestation. ‘ i have been here … at your side —— i nurtured you , i fixed you . if she had come here , she would have risked everything … !! ’
“ where … where is my sister ? ”
indignity wavers, an amorphous flicker betwixt amber optics. perception ornaments ravus’s fatigued eyelids, lethargic in their unveiling. revulsion churns, fuming from ardyn’s pores — yet indignance falters upon revelation of opposing irises. heterochromia. this was not an expectation. it riddles and punctures ardyn’s intellect — a stimulus of justifications fortifying his reason. a defense he must secure, so as to bolster in the prime of ravus’s awareness. for surely, as ardyn stands now, facing yet another consequence of his prosthesis — ravus will identify the anomaly of his eyes and reel. ‘ how unexpected — how beautiful . ’ as though porcelain dropped to the floor, ardyn fractures. the exploitation of his mind from the daemons of his immortal cadaver is suspended within pause; replaced by the necessity of the future.
“ my sincerest apologies , ravus —— your sister has made herself unavailable in her duties . though i’m sure she — ‘ regrets ’ not being here … ahn … a greater effort could have been made . ” an escorting insolence provokes motion of ankles, returning him to the proximity of his design. digits fiddle with the brightness of an overhead spotlight, diminishing ravus’s chances of recognizing his reflection, as the windows are a short distance away. if the lamb cannot see, surely its wound — a manner of the wolf — will be secreted.
“ you are still very weak . let us forget your sister’s indifference , and focus on your recuperation — ”