I cringe. Indeed, I seem suspicious. But my patience isn't limitless. I clench my hands behind me.
Eventually, I, too, won't endure anymore.
And they'll be left with nothing but the devastation left in my wake.
But I'm watching. Waiting. Is he really not coming?
They creep around, trapping me between them—
My back tingles! He's here. He's behind me.
Kian's muscled arm's sneaking around my waist and he's breathing lightly in my ear; fire racing down my neck as my cheeks heat.
What in blazes is he doing—?!
I feel it, the heat.
"What in god's name—?! Who the hell are you?! Step back, or I'll kill you, too!" The leader forcefully clenches the pommel of his sword; his face wrinkling sternly.
"It seems you're in quite the situation, dear," Kian laughs lightly. Almost chillingly. And he tightens his hands around me. I can feel it, his hard chest steady against my back; my body naturally sinking into his arms like water in a sieve.
Suspicious. It's suspicious. It's suspicious but I'm not retaliating; the feeling of home? somehow pleasing.
"Cultivators or not, we're not afraid to fight! Get them! Attack—!" The leader, he's yelling, his face scrunching up as he screams—
The men begin running—striking—their swords now falling—
But my body's already disippitating; the air already chilling in its heat—!
The nausea hits me; the dizzying sight of trees and trees and leaves all surrounding me—
My face's sweating and my eyes begin spinning and liquid's spewing from my lips as I'm falling to my knees—
Indeed, my body's frailer than it seems. I see nothing but clouds above me…the creaking of wood as leaves are falling…It's not supposed to be night, is it? It's not supposed to be…
***
Ethan. Ethan. Ethan. What does young Ethan know about his own body?
Kian rests the fainted man, no, boy against the tree; softly tracing his fingers against the pouting, sleeping lips beneath—
And then he grips that pulsing, living neck tightly—
Slowly, his fingers stop strangling and his hand releases willingly; the feeling of flesh beneath his claws quietly lingering.
"Perhaps the sentiment has left me…Gerald."
"Yes, Master." A shorter, heavily muscled man kneels and cups his hand in a strange salute.
"The humans?"
Gerald's indifferent voice booms as he speaks. "Scrambling like rats. But they won't find any trace of us here, Master."
"Perhaps. And—what was it—the Heart Sect?"
"Yes, Master. The Moon Heart Sect. I've sent the shadows to follow them. We'll know their affiliations soon enough."
"Good. They seem to recognize my power. Anyone colluding with the Three Stars…"
"Of course, Sire."
Kian gracefully lays his fingertips within Gerald's cupped palm. "That woman. Make sure she feels the pain of living."
"Yes, Master. I'll be sure to leave her screaming." He bows, taking his leave.
Kian brushes back the too long bangs behind the sleeping ears.
"Is this," he says, dragging the not quite human up and draping his cloak beneath, "…the end or the beginning?" He lays the boy back down softly. "I, myself, can't say."
"Who you are doesn't matter. What you've done…that doesn't matter either," he says, hair like midnight sweeping Ethan's pale cheeks. "You'll follow me, won't you?"
The pounding—
The pulsing—
Something radiating heat!
Yes. That's it.
The scales reveal, then conceal themselves upon Kian's face; the iridescent shine resonating with what's hidden inside Ethan's back.
What was missing has returned in such a weak, feeble state…
But it's different now. It's all different now. There's no going back now. And Ethan's fractured, ill-conceived body will pull its own weight.
Kian will make sure of it.
After all, what should be done, Kian's not doing. And what shouldn't be done is already a foregone conclusion.
The boy's blood pounds with the power of a dragon. Naturally, his body is Kian's to possess!
Kian's eyes slit—
Then fade back into human eyes. Yes. Ethan can't betray him. And if he does?
Kian's claws pierce Ethan's cheek; the blood dripping delicately. If this boy dares, there's no telling what monstrosities he'll unleash.
After all, this scale isn't meant for a human's body. It'll return. Even if the emptiness corrupts him. Even if he's bleeding…
"Tristan…" Kian looks up towards that blinding sky. "I wonder if you knew what was left of me. I wonder if you knew my misery," he says, his eyes a cold, empty green.
"You took my scales. You took my wings. You took my choices! My trust! My empathy!"
He breathes shallowly. "I felt the peeling of my skin, Tristan. Did you not expect my rage?"
The pain. The agony! Hearing the slicing of meat; the bitter copper filling his mouth. The sound of screams. And the stench! The stench of his own body!
His hands that were crawling—the sounds of begging—! It hurt. It hurt! He was drowning—!
The smoke from cauterizing—the burning agony that was lingering—!
It was excruciating.
"But Tristan, you felt nothing. No…perhaps you felt pity. You left me without watching, after all..."
Kian soon smiles; stroking the oblivious face of his sleeping beauty. "Of course, you knew."
He grips the chin. And kisses the lips staring at him so sweetly. "This boy—his body—he assimilated that piece of me!"
Kian sits by the boy's side. And sneers. "It isn't what you expected, is it? I, too, feel…disgusted."
"Honestly, these hands! Why won't they rip into his flesh and take back what belongs to me? I, too, am bewildered. But somehow, it feels right. Not just because of this thing between us. What is this feeling?"
He fingers a gold band around his finger; the precious engraving long since worn. "Oh. You wouldn't know. Becauseyou'll neverreincarnate."
He laughs. And lays his hand over his eyes. Yes. These useless feelings…!
He used to have more such feelings. He used to be more. But the experiments wasted his talents. And he had to begin anew.
Even then, Kian held onto who he was before...
But the torture Kian thought was over resumed at the very hands of a wretched brother he thought would never betray him!