Dreadlords An Evening of Lost Sleep And Contemplating Desertion.

[Cassius Amore]

Cassius was tired. Not in the normal sense. After all it was two hours passed midnight and he was fully dressed and meandering the courtyards beneath his Dreadlord sanctioned living space. No, Cassius was tired of it all. The political obtuseness, the becoming numb to slaughter. All of it. It was a headache and he wanted no more to do with it.

He had thought of abandoning it all before. Running off and hiding somewhere on the opposite end of Arethil. Part of him had pieced together exactly how to. The other parts of him are the reason he never accomplished it. It was too risky at the end of the day. But was that worth finding a future that he chose? What if he chose worse?

It was all so much.

Cassius stood and stared at the moon in all her celestial glory. It was a hope of his that no one else would leave their beds at this time, and he could in fact spend the whole early morning watching the moonlight gradually disappear into the sun.

 

[Hail Kanada]

"The ancients say"– a smooth voice flowed behind Cassius –"that each night the sun uncages her"– strong and light and close by –"but leashed, her path preordained, never straying."

The wall behind Cassius seemed to flex and a man materialized in ripples and blurs out of the air. He sat on a bench against the wall, hands on his knees, looking at his fellow Dreadlord in deep thought. To his right and on the ground was a large potted plant, dry and brittle, plucked from the desert. On his left was a marble statue, some aristocrat gesticulating at the sky. Both perhaps stolen and sequestered here from homes far away, much like the man. Fully visible, his camouflage gone, he nodded at Cassius, as if giving him permission to finish the bedtime story.

enterbasilisk

 

[Cassius Amore]

“Yet her chains seem to depart when she is at her fullest, each phase loosening the grip of the sun. Thus the days we see her sienna, she has taken the sun's freedom for herself.”

Cassius turned to see his peer sitting on a bench as if he’d always been there. A mysterious stranger. He wasn’t sure if he recognized the fellow or not.

His presence would have served as an annoyance, but the poetic reference was one he could appreciate.

“Aviv Shamuli, Celestial Secrets. Do you also enjoy literature?”

Hail Kanada

 

[Hail Kanada]

"If by literature you mean sitting around a campfire while wrinkled old women swear that Arethil is but an eyeball, perfectly balanced on a tower of skulls, then yes, I indulge in literature."

Gripping the arm of the statue beside him, the man raised himself up. He had long, shoulder-length blond hair that rested on crisp, black robes. A red scar marked the right side of his face from eyebrow to cheekbone. The moonlight bleached him in its glow, and basking under it he may have seemed ethereal or even otherworldly and hardly a Lord of Dread. He walked slowly towards Cassius, his gaze never wavering from his target.

"I am Hail. Who are you? And what are you doing up at this odd hour?"

When he reached Cassius, he threw up his right arm as if to shake hands. It was only then Hail realized the shaking-hand arm was still invisible from the forearm below, so that it looked as if he were some segmented doll that had been 'dejointed' cleanly at the elbow. He waved the stump around absurdly.

"Well, give it a minute."

Cassius Amore

 

[Cassius Amore]

That earned a chuckle from the lithe Dreadlord. He also found the prophetic wisdom spoken by many elders to be either outdated or just droll in nature.

“Cassius. I’m a fourth level. Often used for diplomatic excursions. I’m surprised we haven’t met yet. What’s your name?”

Cassius thought that the young man should hide his magical defects more carefully when he saw the invisibility failing him. Not that it wasn’t common, but he knew all too well the reality of chatter that their peers indulged in when it came to those sorts of things.

The man seemed somewhat a phantom in his own right. Pale skin with pale hair, exacerbated by his illusory magic. But for the time being he was being friendly and despite Cassius’ desire to be on his lonesome it was unbecoming of him to be unwelcoming.

“I often come out at the wee hours of the morning. I prefer to experience the air when Vel Anir is at its quietest.”

Hail Kanada

 

[Hail Kanada]

"Cassius. Cassius. It's not that surprising we haven't met. I've been on a lot of missions recently to far away lands. Returning here is a bit like a homecoming for me."

He said the name again, while continuing to wave his arm around like it were a hot potato. It remained invisible. He shrugged and smiled again. Hail reached into his robes and retrieved a small yellow tablet. He held it out to Cassius.

"Here, take this. It will help with sleep."

Cassius Amore

 

[Cassius Amore]

Well, this was curious. And quite bold. Cassius' hands drifted out of his baggy pockets and hanged limply at his side as he eyed the stranger. Such vague statements with the expectation of devouring a bizarre supplement. He rose an eyebrow to Hail.

"Forgive me if this is rude, but I don't make a habit out of taking strange medicine from those I've just met. Aside from that, I'm not looking to sleep right now. I'm quite enjoying the brisk air."

Hail Kanada

 

[Hail Kanada]

He shrugged his shoulders and popped the tablet in his mouth with his invisible arm.

"It's compounded from a plant I encountered in the Ixchel Wilds. Anyway, no offense taken. You are right to be cautious. We are a dangerous bunch."

Hail looked up at the moon. It was bright enough to see spots, dark gray craters on it. He stood there staring up, chewing the tablet, then swallowed hard.

Cassius Amore

 

[Cassius Amore]

Every Dreadlord had their own quirks. It also just amazed him how many he still hadn’t met. Hail was an interesting specimen. But many thought the same of Cassius, so.

Whatever sent him to the wilds must have been dreadfully important. That was an exceptionally far distance from here.

“You said you’ve been on missions for a long wild. What for?”

Hail Kanada

 

[Hail Kanada]

Hail looked at Cassius, then returned to staring at the moon.

"That is classified. But given my unique gifts, is it really so hard to imagine what I do?"

His arm had finally taken on its right colors again. He chewed the medicine he had consumed like it were a candy.

"Do you remember your parents?" asked Hail.

Cassius Amore

 

[Cassius Amore]

Assassination, espionage, no, it wasn’t so hard to imagine. Hail thought himself unique in the sense of invisibility. It wasn’t a common ability, per se, but he’d seen it (or not) before.

Cassius cocked his head at word classified. It was smart to distrust him. Even still, it was bizarre. Most dreadlords jumped at the opportunity to get things off their chest.

“Not by choice.” He replied.

“If it were up to me, I’d happily forget them. Yourself?”

Hail Kanada

 

[Hail Kanada]

Hail didn't reply, at least not with words. He just looked at Cassius for a long while, then went back to staring at the moon. Its milky whiteness painted them in a pale ethereal. It was like the power of awkwardness had put them under a spell; the silence separating their dialogue like the polished surface of a pool of water; an everlasting moment during which no meaning, not even thought should be properly communicated else the magic be broken.

A bug landed on Hail's arm.
He swatted at it.

"So then, what's your specialty? Why were you recruited into this most grim of labors?" He eyed Cassius up and down as if there was some crucial detail on his person he had missed, a scratch or mark that would complete the puzzle. "Delivery boy?"

Cassius Amore

 

[Cassius Amore]

The silence had almost been comforting. A broken exchange between the least of amicable. Though there was conveyance of similarity in the deafening quiet. Cassius knew those silences well.

At least this meant the young man didn’t know about The Split Incident.

He sighed. He’d been so used to hazing that the question just felt the same. Another assumption about him due to his meekness and his sunken eyes. This was, of course, just his perception of the matter.

“Reconnaissance or ambassador duties. I am a leech, and used as such to derive potential intelligence.”

The title was used to insult him. But he’d co-opted it. It frustrated those who tried to hurt him.

Hail Kanada