Chapter Text
I don't know how long it's been or what day it could possibly be. They've kept the place lit constantly and the windows are all mirrors- meal times are becoming more sudden and so are his visits. It feels like it's been months since I was kidnapped, yet I still don't have clues to where I am.
Every attempt I make at prodding ends with a swollen face and an aching jaw- nothing seems to be working, I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore.
I've tried remembering my family again, they're becoming blurrier and blurrier. Was it mother or Lily who was left handed? What kind of look did father have when he'd say good morning? What kinds of gloves did Lily like to collect again? What were the subjects Basen struggled with the most?
I can't recall- shit, I can't remember.
They're supposed to be something, but this is not it. I know it's not- it doesn't feel right.
My memory usually isn't this bad, I know it isn't.
I can't remember Basen's face anymore. It's just.. a blank face.
I tried to reread the other pages, but still cant remember how Basen looks like. Even after reading all the passages of him over and over, it's like I've forgotten entirely.
Maybe if I tried drawing, I'll be able to recall. I think I-
The sounds of a key interrupted him- Cale flinched.
Whirling his head around, he could see door beginning to unlock as he was writing the last words. Partially from shock, partially from fear- he was on his feet from the abrupt intrusion.
Taking a deep breath, he quickly puts away his pen, but before he could put his diary ledger back in it's drawer, the door screeches open.
Something was blocking his view of the outside, all he could see was a blank, white space. And from it, emerges a young man with long, white hair and bright green eyes. He carried a tray of snacks and tea, none of which would provide Cale proper nourishment. He set the table in distinct silence before sauntering his way over to Cale- who frozen over and began eyeing the other wearily.
Glancing to the notebook then back into Cale's eyes, the knight holds out his hand, smiling serenely.
"…"
"…"
Cale grips his notebook harder.
The smile turns cold, and Clopeh's hand falls down to his side, he laughs. "Are you still being so stubborn? My deer, we both know this never ends well." The other says.
"…"
Cale breathes a shaky inhale, straightening his and turning back away from Clopeh. As stable as he can, he opens the drawer, takes the notebook, and places it inside. He could feel the pinpricks of Clopeh's stare as he did so- and when he turns back, he can see the knight's rage plastered all over his face.
Clopeh's eye twitches. "You…"
Saying anything will lead to Clopeh getting even more angry. Just stay silent.
"…"
His tormentor cracks his knuckles- each pop of bone signaling something bad within Cale's gut.
"Well… Perhaps I shouldn't have expected more from you... After all-"
Clopeh was doing this on purpose. He wanted a reaction, a reason to justify the bruises on his limbs and the cuts on his skin.
"-knowing you, this could be a last attempt at preserving the dignity of the fallen tortoise…."
His family was alive. Alive. Don't believe his lies. The Henituse was strong. They protected themselves and the family, first and foremost. Even if the Territory had fallen, Cale knew if family was alive- somewhere, somehow.
"..Ah!"
Don't let him get under your skin.
"Maybe…"
He's doing this on purpose.
"..You're finally giving in?"
Ignore it.
"Maybe you have- and this is just an attempt at hiding your fantasies of betraying them…"
Cale clenches his fist.
"…For me?"
Clopeh's voice was light and teasing- yet the anger and annoyance was evident. Cale found the sarcasm practically grating on his nerves- it was evident that the bastard was doing this just to piss him off, and from the smug smirk he gave off, Clopeh knew it was working.
His face was just so that so punchable, so annoying. Those eyes felt like they were begging to be stabbed and they were-
-so much closer than it was a second ago.
Cale's hands were wrapped around his throat, the redhead having unconsciously pushed Clopeh to the edge of the table- edges of fragile porcelain clink as the other's body bends just the slightest again the tableware.
Clopeh laughs, a disgusting sound that travels through his ears. in a flash- Cale's hands were ripped of their place around Clopeh's neck- his arms aching from the amount of unnecessary strength Clopeh had used to pry him off.
Cale barely has a second to register his new position before a large, coarse hand grips on his neck.
"..hurck!!"
Fuck, it hurt.
His eyes were watering- it was getting harder and harder to breathe. It hurt.
Glaring at Clopeh's expression, it was clear tha asshole was enjoying this. The sick bastard thrived on pain, thrived on catching his "prize" and breaking it to his liking.
"As a newly-born legend, I must say, I have been needing time to vent my frustrations on people other than those pathetic servants." He says,
Cale spits on his face.
"Fffuck you.. you basta-gschk!"
His weak fingers were too busy, uselessly attempting to pry the hand off his neck to block the fist coming for his face.
Bam!
Clopeh stares, expression turning from mad to cheerful within a matter of seconds. He watches Cale cough and spit blood, uselessly squirming in his hand- like a pet.
Because that was what Cale was, wasn't it?
His little pet.
"You look good like this, Henituse." Clopeh says, green eyes sparkling with gleeful joy as he chokes the redhead, Cale's hands clawing on the knights' arms- leaving behind streaks of blood where his chipped nails attempted to scratch.
Clopeh lets out a chuckle, unbothered. "Perhaps you'd look better with a collar around your neck too, if you'd agree."
At that, Cale snarls, his vision blurring from the lack of air- mouth gasping silently as he desperately clings onto consciousness.
Even if he has to renounce his dignity, even if he's to be dragged around kicking and screaming, he won't let this bastard get what he wants.
Not as long as he lives.
And dammit, was Cale going to live.
He was taken in the middle of the night, tossed into a gilded cage, stripped of everything that he could use to contact home, then left with nothing more than the daunting news that Paerun had launched an attack on the Henituse Territory.
Cale didn't believe it.
He couldn't.
Not when everyone was still there.
And he'd clung onto that belief, for god fucking knows how long. Strangled with himself and forced his brain to believe that this was all a trick, that he was merely a hostage that would be negotiated in exchange for something, anything.
That his life wasn't one spared to preserve the Henituse family, because everyone else was dead.
He had to live, he had to make sure everyone was okay.
"Although I have to say, my hands make quite the nice substitute." he laughs again. The sound grating on Cale's ears and smashing against the thuds of pain echoing through his skull.
Clopeh gazes into his face for a few more seconds before throwing Cale's body to the side.
He crashes into a table, with no strength in his legs he knocks over porcelain cups and delicate plates- coughing and gasping for air as he did so. Bleeding hands grasping on the edges, determined to stay as upright as he could.
Clopeh sneers from above him, "Hide the book faster next time, I may not be so lenient if you hinder my curiosity again."
He can barely register what's being said- too busy trying to think through the ringing in his ears.
"…Well then. Get some rest, little dear." Clopeh says.
The footsteps fade, and Cale can faintly recognize the sound of the door opening and closing through his heaving.
"..Shit"
His sits there on the floor for a minute or two, and it's only when the ringing goes away, does a voice speak up.
'How long do you wish to do this?'
He didn't know if it was just a hallucination his mind had developed from his time here, or if it was really the God of Death speaking. All he knew was that one day, a weird, echo-ey voice introduced itself as the God of Death asked him if he wanted company, and Cale, who had been half drunk out of his mind, said yes.
Hallucination or not, at least he wasn't that alone anymore.
It was still annoying at times though.
Cale scowls, "As long as it takes."
'Even if you die?' The voice says.
"Would you let me die?" Cale snarks back.
'…'
Hah, bastard.
He wasn't going to die, not here, not now, not until he's old and stuffy and nagging Basen and Lily into taking care fo themselves- not until he knew his family was safe and sound- only till then, would he even think of dying.
He didn't know what the fuck this voice in his head was, but Cale was sure as hell not entertaining anymore bullshit when his head was pounding and his body felt like it didn't have any bones to support him over.
'Stop.'
Cale stops. his breathing coming easier now- but it was still hard to stay conscious.
'You'll get impaled if you step on that.'
He could feel a phantom sensation of someone guiding his foot to step away from the shards of broken tableware.
'…Slowly now.'
Step by step, Cale could feel his legs being supported as his strength slowly came back- carefully guiding him to his bed.
He's covered with the soft, begrudgingly comfortable blanket of his, the moment reminding Cale of being tucked into bed by Ron.
It's only after he passes out does the strange voice echo once more.
'…Goodnight, Cale.'