Private Tales Born to Die

[Rhenn Willowood]

"I'm not interested."

Captain Willowood only gave the old man those three words, nothing more. Not even a passing glance was offered to the figure standing in the doorway of his cluttered and claustrophobic office, tucked into the corner of the Vanguard Headquarters at his request. The Captain was flattered that The Absalon himself had taken time out of his busy schedule to come and pester him, but the man who Solomon Regis sought to speak to was no longer present. No, His Highness sought who the Captain had once been, before he'd started his second life in Valenntenia.

"Rhenn, I know it's a lot to ask but--"

"No, not a lot. Too much." The scar-faced man finally turned to face the one he'd once answered to. A single, pale, and glowing eye glimmered in the dim candlelight of the room, curtains drawn over the windows to keep the shadows he preferred alive and well. "I'm not a Guardian anymore. She's not my responsibility, this Bohnes girl." His words were direct, stoic, and final. Rhenn unclasped his gauntlets and tossed them onto the table in front of him with an awful clatter before leaning forward on his hands, looking up with a piercing gaze towards The Abasalon. "You know who showed me how to use the stone when I got it? Nobody." His neutral voice slowly shifted to that of a sneer. "And I don't do charity, old man."

Solomon let out a sigh. He'd expected Rhenn to be prickly about the idea, but he'd hoped that some sense of duty remained in the man. As Guardian of Disease, Rhenn Willowood had excelled in the role more than any before or after him. In fact, he was so far the only one in recorded history to survive service under that particular stone and retire. That service had been... rough, however. Rhenn was an antagonistic fellow, and he had a habit of looking out only for himself. That he hadn't been forcibly removed from his position was only because of how talented he was, and how efficient he could be when used properly.

But he was right. Duty be damned, this wasn't something he was obligated to do. Solomon couldn't begrudge him for refusing. Still, he owed it to Ingrid, to the future of the Disease Stone, to try and make this happen.

"Rhenn, Please... I haven't told her, but... she's in far worse shape than most are after only three years. I worry she's holding too much of her power in, for fear of spreading plague. She's a sweet girl, but she's going to kill herself."

Willowood slammed his fist down on the table and interjected again before he had to hear any more of this guilt-mongering. "And her coffin will be on your conscience, not mine! Now if you'll excuse me, I have important work to be doing, that doesn't involve listening to your whining. Sir."

Solomon bit down on his cheek, a hand moving to the pocket of his robes. He hadn't wished for it to come to this, it was an act he would feel no small amount of guilt in, but if it kept one of his Guardians alive... if he didn't have to lose Ingrid the way he'd lost Dorian... it would be worth it. "Perhaps... I could offer you something in exchange? Something valuable?"

Rhenn's eyes narrowed to slits, his agitated lips twitching into a phantom smirk.

"I'm listening."

---

Rhenn couldn't remember the last time he'd worn his gear. He'd grown so used to the armor of the Vanguard that the garb he'd once donned every day as a Guardian now felt foreign to him. Even looking into his mirror, he saw not the man he was, but a reflection of his past; little more than a phantom clad in black shadow, all but his eyes concealed by the cloth woven for him by the Somners so many years ago. It had been a big commotion when he'd announced to his platoon that he was taking a leave of absence, even more so when they saw him wearing this suit.

"The Darkwalker is back." One had said. He supposed he was, if only for a short while.

The walk to the Tower was an excellent chance to limber up, his arms and legs stiff from desk duty and training drills. His clothes felt tight, but he was certain he hadn't bulked up much in the last three years. Still, to be certain, Rhenn traveled across the rooftops of the Old Town, testing his footing and balance against the old and uneven slopes of the buildings designed by old minds and senile hands. He may not have had the Stone, but the feeling of power it had granted him had never left. He felt it there, buried in his muscles, the memories of his very bones.

Up ahead lay the Tower, a place he'd not been in three years. Within was his charge; Ingrid Bohnes, his replacement.

She'd better be worth the trouble.

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid had still been a bit worried about what Solomon had said in their meeting. It seemed like cheating, like she wasn't doing her duty correctly. Was there even such a thing? Then again, the man she was supposed to be meeting was apparently the only one to have survived the effects of the stone, long enough to retire and live a life beyond. While she understood the why, she didn't like how the Absalon hid behind his kind eyes. He had secrets, and he was about to subject her to one of them, she felt.

Sitting idly at the base of the tower, feeding the pigeons that graced her presence, she wilted a bit as she waited. Normally she'd be devouring snacks at an alarming rate, but her stomach felt sick as time went on. She felt like she was holding her stone, even though she hadn't touched it since her return to the city. Even though it whispered and called out to her, she was able to resist it for now. It would be harder once she carried it again, harder to keep it in check. The stone had its own agenda, and it wanted to use her in ways she had no desire to do.

This man, she was not keen to meet him. She had a feeling that this would not go as Solomon desired, that they would end up two bristling cats, fighting instead of this supposed help she was to get. The stone fed into it, it knew who was coming.

Rhenn Willowood

 

[Rhenn Willowood]

She didn't look like much.

Surely there must have been some sort of mistake-- The short and skinny sack of bones that stood exactly where his new 'protege' had been instructed to wait for him wasn't like any kind of Guardian he'd ever seen before. Maybe the old man had been so desperate to fill the spot Rhenn had left behind that the Somners had been sent to scour the local orphanages and alleyways for any frail little urchin that wouldn't be missed.

The pair of eyes looking down at Ingrid from above narrowed to slits. It was a set-up; he'd agreed to train a Guardian to use the Disease Stone, not some pathetic little whelp who would have been blown over by a stiff wind to her back. It was no wonder she was having problems controlling it, he'd be surprised if she could lift the damned thing with one arm.

"Lesson one." His voice came down from the rooftops above her as a shadowy figure dropped to the ground like a bolt of ebony lightning, making not a sound as he landed. It was a man, clad in dark garb that gave off not even a glimmer in the light of the sun, as though he were wrapped in the very night himself. Only his eyes were visible, one brown and one glowing with a mysterious blue light, surrounded by scarring and distortion Ingrid would know all too well. "If you're going to feed anybody, you wear gloves."

Rhenn slowly stood and flared his cloak, scaring away the remaining pigeons who hadn't fled at his initial arrival. His boots were as quiet as death as he approached her with a gaze as sharp as the knives upon his hip. There was no need to introduce himself to her; She would know-- the Stone would tell her.

The Darkwalker wondered what his old friend had to say about him, the one who would not be broken or beholden.

"Even without the Stone, disease will linger for eleven days before your skin can be touched." The Stone... it wasn't near. Rhenn couldn't feel the tug. Was it still in Solomon's keeping, then? Did he expect him to teach her without a practical demonstration? No... he didn't trust Rhenn. For good reason. If that cursed Rune had tried to force itself onto him again, he'd have no qualm smashing it to bits. Rhenn tore his eyes away from Bohnes, as unimpressed as he'd expected, and looked up towards the tower she stood in front of. "Our benevolent leader thinks you're going to die. Looking at you, I agree with him."

Willowood was heavily considering abandoning this farce, but the reward Solomon had promised him was still quite tempting, despite this walking hurdle in front of him. Still, if he couldn't guarantee success...

A coin toss then, with some strings attached.

"Who is your enemy? What stands between you and your goals?"

He didn't look at her as he asked the question, his eyes fixated on a particular part of the Tower's exterior. Her answer would decide her fate today, would determine whether or not she was teachable and worthy of his time.

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid lifted her bent head as the pigeons took flight, the shadow..no a man, dropping from above to spook them away. The few that lingered were quickly sent to wing as he got closer, all the while she merely watched. No emotion, not even a flinch from his sudden arrival would give her away. She blinked slowly, was he trying to intimidate her or something? Was he going to be insufferable like Lale was?

She stood, wiping the crumbs from her hands, her face still a blank slate as she studied him. She could feel the swell of the stone, greedy as it felt his presence. It knew its old wielder well, and sought to possess him too, once more. This was who she had been waiting for, though she was unimpressed by his self-importance.

She finally spoke, her tone scathing as she responded. Who was he to prejudge her? "This wasn't my idea, so you can drop your annoyance at any point. I did not desire your aide and am doing this only because it was requested of me. Solomon thinks I'm going to die because I refuse to infect plague upon the world, I assure you the stone would not end me so quickly."

Ingrid tilted her head slightly, a small smirk on her lips. "It remembers you, wants to devour you too. It has plans, plans it couldn't achieve with you as a wielder. Perhaps you are not the Disease favorite you think you are." She quirked a challenging eyebrow at his question, a sharp laugh leaving her. "My enemy is my friend. The Stone is the problem and the solution. I just have refused to bend completely to its will."

Rhenn Willowood

 

[Rhenn Willowood]

Were Ingrid not a woman he was being paid, handsomely so, to look after, Rhenn would have smacked her across her face for her insolence. She was no Guardian in his eyes, no servant of the Stones to be respected. She was a girl playing pretend, and he was here to give her a healthy dose of reality. One he now saw she sorely needed. The answer she provided to his question was not at all the correct one, but the words preceding it brought such amusement to him that he forgave her.

"You assure me the stone will not end you so quickly..." He parroted her words, his voice seeming to break into a laugh, though the only evidence was the bending of the cloth covering his lips. Willowood's eyes looked down at Bohnes with that eerie glow that almost seemed to dim with pity for the woman. "And you... believe it? You think you are more than a vessel? More than a means to an end?" Rhenn's amusement was slowly replaced by an incredulous astonishment.

Eventually, he shook his head, tearing his gaze from her to look toward the fountain. "The old man is right. You are going to die. It's a miracle you haven't already." Willowood grows silent, simply standing there before her, staring into the waters of the fountain. His own twisted visage staring back at him was a haunting reminder of his constant battle against the Disease Stone, a scar that would never truly heal. Now, it had the gall to speak through her, to taunt him so.

"Lesson Two." He suddenly snapped around once more, dropping to sit on the edge of the fountain. "Use your head this time, Bohnes. Don't you wonder why your Stone wouldn't be able to enact its 'plans' through somebody considered to be the most gifted Disease Rune wielder in our history? Seems odd, doesn't it?" What were they teaching children in Valenntenia about the stones these days? That they were all for the good of mankind, untainted by evil? "You called me the Disease 'favorite'. But that's a misnomer. The reason people remember my name isn't because I worked with the disease stone, it's because I made the stone work for me. I subjugated it, used it like the tool it was meant to be instead of talking to it like some pet."

Rhenn raised his hand, and pointed his finger at the Tower, towards the exact room the Stone sat idly on some pedestal, waiting for one or both of them to come and retrieve it. "That runestone is not your friend, Ingrid. It uses you to enact the will of the Ancient that bled upon it. Despite what our dear historians will tell you, not all of those Ancients were so pure of heart." Daggolyth, the Disease Ancient, was a cunning and deceitful God, lover of Arevyln of Darkness and rival of Kairikal of Light. Of course, those writings weren't referenced much anymore. The Absalon found them 'divisive and misleading'.

"It lies to you, tells you what you want to hear. The only plan it has for you is the complete symbiosis of your being to spread its plague, and ultimately, your demise."

A pause... Ingrid would practically feel the smirk on Rhenn's face.

"Touching that my return has rattled it so, that it began to speak upon seeing me. I find that fear flattering."

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Yes. the stone tainted your mind, your body. It used you, manipulated you. It's will extending beyond its current resting space. She could feel it using her to taunt the abrasive man that stood before her. She wanted to let it needle him, just for his stance upon meeting her. She knew better though, knew she needed to reign it in. She had to show some sort of restraint, or he would use it to tech in that mocking tone she already disliked.

Ingrid let a small breath escape her lips, pursing them as he spoke. She let him finish, let him make his points as he settled on the edge of the fountain. She balled her fists quietly, waiting for her turn to retort. Finally, he shut up with that hidden smirk so easily prevalent that it lingered in the air between them.

She stepped up to him, her lips quirking up into a smile again, though it wasn't a friendly one. "You're right, I might die quicker than some, I might not last as long as the Great Darkwalker." She lowered herself to meet his gaze, the temptation to shove him into the fountain making her itch. "Do you want to know why? Or do you just want to assume you know everything about me?"

The stone stirred, reared its greedy head once more. It liked them being at odds, wanted to continue to cause misery between the new wielder and the old. There was a gleefulness she could feel, it wanted them to hate each other.

Rhenn Willowood

 

[Rhenn Willowood]

The way she so sarcastically used that ridiculous title that the people had given him so long ago... If it were anybody else he would have admired the balls it took to speak it so brazenly to his face. In Ingrid's case, though, even if she'd had balls, which he doubted, they'd long since rotted off with how poorly she was maintaining herself, or so he'd heard.

"I don't assume I know anything about you, Bohnes. Tell me one lie that I've told you since arriving. I know some things, because I've lived your life once before." She thought him presumptuous, and perhaps he was, to an extent. Nevertheless, he didn't speak if he knew himself to be uninformed.

As he shifted his weight and leaned an arm down to rest upon the fountain's stone edge, the smile on his face faded, and his fingers drummed impatiently on his knee. "Whatever reason you give me doesn't matter, because I'm being paid to make sure you don't die. So unless it's a death wish you're struggling with, it's irrelevant."

Again, his scarred eyes fluttered up to that room of the Tower where Disease called to her from. The old man hadn't taken the Rune's will into account when arranging this little partnership, and the desires of the Stone could make this a degree more complicated if they weren't careful. After all, he couldn't very well teach her to better control the stone if they didn't have the stone, now could they?

"We're burning daylight, Ingrid. We should go and retrieve your stone and set off. The sooner we begin, the sooner you can be rid of me."

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid narrowed her eyes, crinkling her nose as if she had tasted something bitter on her tongue. This had been a bad idea; she had known it from the start. She had no people skills, had no desire to be a part of this grand scheme Solomon had come up with. Sure, she looked up to Mordred and Konstantine, but it's not like they were friends by any measure.

Straightening, she crossed her arms, the desire to continue to argue twisting in her mind. Sure, the guy was a bit of an ass, but her own hostility was catching her off guard. She gripped the skin of her arm forcefully breaking her concentration from the man in front of her. She stepped back and turned away from him, her gaze also seeking out the room her stone lay trapped in.

"Fine, you're right. Let's just get this over with." The stone was being maddening, the return of Rhenn had stirred up a malicious intent that she hadn't felt before. Sure, it was toxic and made her sick, made her want to do certain things, but never did it have her out of sorts like it did now. She continued to hold her arms close to her chest as she made for the tower steps, trying to ignore the shadow of the man behind her. "The sooner we do this, the sooner I can be alone again."

Did she truly want that though?

Rhenn Willowood

 

[Rhenn Willowood]

Rhenn's eye followed her carefully as she approached the Tower doors. Thus far, Ingrid seemed an incompetent choice for the wielder of Disease, one who'd already gone in too deep before she was ready. While he'd never vocalize pity for the girl, Willowood didn't blame her for her shortcomings. After all, it wasn't her choice to fill his shoes. Solomon and his merry men had placed that burden onto her themselves.

Still, it was a sink-or-swim world. The lot Bohnes had been given was not one she'd be rid of any time soon, and if she didn't learn to stand up for herself against the godly tool she'd been given possession of, she would die before the next homecoming. Of that, Rhenn had no doubt whatsoever.

What he hadn't told her was far more interesting.

There was a rule among Guardians, unwritten though it was, that the wielders of a Rune should not, under any circumstances, interact with former wielders of that same stone unless absolutely necessary. Such meetings had a history of triggering psychotic episodes and mental anguish in the current Guardians, as the bond between the Runestone and its former protector attempted to re-establish itself.

The Stone of Disease had definitely just made such an attempt, but Ingrid had brushed it off as though it were naught but a minor annoyance.

There was potential in her, after all. For the first time since he'd donned his shadows once more, Willowood felt the slightest hint of interest in Ingrid Bohnes.

The Absalon had been so kind as to send a Somner to meet the two of them in the entrance hall of the tower, a scholarly-looking, older gentleman who carried the Stone of Disease in a ceramic tray, a material that the rune would not rot itself through without significant time.

"Absalon Regis sends you his regards, Miss Bohnes."

As Ingrid picks up her Runestone, her hand would feel a small piece of paper taped to the ceramic underneath it. The Somner would push his hands forward, silently urging her to take the paper as well.

"And your discretion in this matter is appreciated."

Rhenn snorts indignantly, assuming the latter message was meant for him, but the glimmer in the Somner's eye suggests that was also meant for Ingrid.

"Yes, I'm sure he's very appreciative. Are you ready to leave now, Bohnes?"

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid could feel Rhenn's eyes upon her back, could feel the weight of his disdain. It shrouded him like a cloak, and he let himself be wrapped up in it. She would show him, she wasn't this poor weak little thing he assumed she was. She was made of tougher stuff than anyone was giving her credit for. She entered the tower, proverbial nose in the air, haughtiness in her own ability.

She stopped dead, staring at the waiting Somner, blue eyes narrowing. Bit pushy, wasn't it? She collected herself, and walked up to the man. She could feel how excited the stone was, the malice glee that trickled from it with the air of toxicity it held. At his words, Ingrid donned a sickly sweet smile. "Thank the Absalon ever so kindly for me." She picked up her stone, wrapping pale fingers around it to conceal the glaring green of it in the palm of her hand.

Taking the paper, she held it up between two of her fingers, her own disdain seeping out as she rolled her eyes. "Thank you, I suppose." She turned on her heel from the Somner, motioning Rhenn to lead her on. "After you, mentor." She gripped the paper in one hand, stone in the other, nails biting into her palms at the irritation of it all. "Already wanting to keep secrets, The Absalon is not who I thought he was."

Rhenn Willowood

 

[Rhenn Willowood]

Rhenn was distracted enough with his thoughts that he hadn't paid any mind to the odd slip of paper that Ingrid had taken along with her stone. Or, if he did notice, he didn't seem to particularly care. It was Bohnes' comment on secrets that made him snort in a short laugh, shaking his head as they left the sacred walls of the Tower behind and began to descend the long, rewinding hillside path through Old Town.

"This whole city runs on secrets, Bohnes. The world, even. I don't agree with the old man on much, but..." Rhenn looks off to the side of the road as an older woman peddles homemade goods to passing children, fresh out of schooling with allowance in hand. "The everyday common folk can't handle too much truth. If you knew everything there was to know, you wouldn't be getting any sleep at night."

The ordinary Descendant in Valenntenia didn't have to worry about such unnerving realities. They were able to live peacefully under the protection of the Vanguard, of the Guardians. It was those chosen few who were burdened with their stone windows, small squares that peeked behind the curtain of perception. For Bohnes, it was the depths and horrors of disease, the fragility of life that she was tasked with knowing.

Any of those children were just as likely to grow sick and die tomorrow as the old woman. Only Rhenn and Ingrid knew that morbid fact.

"The stone has a way of warping your way of thinking over time. It's likely subtle now, but as you continue to wield it, the biggest battle of all will become remaining who you are, and not becoming what it wants you to be. So, tell me Bohnes... What is it you think you should do with your power?"

It was a question posed to all Guardians upon their appointment; They were given these Runestones to serve and better the world, but how they did it was for them and them alone to dictate.

Ingrid Bohnes

 

[Ingrid Bohnes]

Ingrid shrugged at Rhenn's back as she opened the note so tactfully left by the man that had shoved these to spikey personalities together. She tucked it away as quickly as she had scanned it, her face still placid and unmoved. Having the stone in her possession once more weighed her down. She could feel the toxic seep that poked and prodded her even stronger than before. She focused on the man in front of her, feeling her steps slow just a little, felt her skin get clammy, her throat scratchy. Still, this was her burden, and she loved it as much as she hated it.

"No one should know everything, I agree." She spoke stiffly now, burning holes into his back with her azure gaze. She crossed completely to the other side of the road, avoiding the children and the old woman as much as possible. Reuniting with the stone would take slight adjustment, a balance of power she wasn't willing to risk on the innocent.

She remembered her answer to his question, the one she had given upon receiving her stone. How her mind had changed since that day. "Once upon a time, I dreamt of healing the world. Aiding those who were sick and dying. Now, I don't believe this power should be used for anything, it's too much, too powerful. He hungers too much. I'd rather not use it than accidentally hurt someone."

Rhenn Willowood