Shadow of the Abyss

"Well… This is quite the mess," Altair said once the door was closed. He took a seat on his bed, not so weary as he was annoyed by the interruption. He stared at Elena, covered in tears.

"It's your fault! You did this!" Elena said with bitter hate.

Altair would have slapped her if he had not been too comfortable to move. So Tasha backhanded her in his stead. Her lips split, and blood weltered down her chin.

"The wound will heal, Your Grace," Tasha said with a light bow. "Her Father should not notice."

"Father?" Vaguely recalling a shadow that seemed to cover the ruin of the Tribulation, he furrowed his brows. His thoughts were all but a mystery to the woman. "Tasha, how long was I asleep?"

"A few hours, your Grace."

"Then…" He glanced at Elena. "I won the bet."

Elena shook and didn't dare raise her eye to meet his, nursing her wound like a frightened fawn.

"Tell me what happened?"

Elena motioned to speak, but when nothing sounded, Tasha spoke, " It was as you had said it, my Lord. He came on the hour of your rest through the portcullis and rode straight to Elena." —Altair glanced at Elena— "Elder Ashe held him back, but to anyone with eyes, it looked like he was about to take her into his arms and ride off."

Altair's fingers appeared to drum across the bed, left to writhe in a sort of hypnotic fashion.

"The one called Conall flew into such a rage that he openly spat at the name Nox De Nier before he was off to look for you. How he found you… Well, I'm not exactly sure. It could have been any number of reasons, people or traitors. Whatever the case, Elena and Conall arrived ruffly at the same time, and a small thing happened."

"Elena… I warned you of this folly, did I now?" He looked at her now, calmly speaking as if what she had done was nothing. And yet it was that very calm that seemed to squeeze the life from out of Elena; color drained from her face.

She clenched her chest, for her heart ached like a gnarled palm squeezing it to drain it of all it was worth. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. Harsh like death itself coming for her.

"D-Don't kill me!" she pleaded. "I'll… I'll do anything. Please."

It was the Vale King who spoke, "Then if I ask you to slit your lover's throat?" a kindling of a smile writhing across his lips, and the light in her eyes paled to a deep night in which no light could exist. "Or… you can run away. Run away with him. And let your father pay the price. It won't kill him, But I'm sure he'll not live long with that type of shame."

A trail of blood shrieked from the corner of her eye down her cheek. She knelt there, too shattered for words. The wound on her lips was already mended, yet she did not seem to notice or care.

Returning to himself, Altair breathed, but rather than allow her to give him an answer, he gestured her out of his sight. And Tasha ushered her out.

For a moment, he let a sigh escape him. He wondered what all of this was for. It had all seemed like a meaningless game in which to torture Elena. She had not done anything to wrong him. 'For what reason am I tormenting her?'

'Do you need a reason?' The voice of the Vale King sounded scornful and palatine all at once. 'She is beneath us. Look at how defiant she was when we first met. Now she kneels, she begs, and if we wish it, she shall bark.'

"That's fear, not authority.'

"Fear begets Authority. The girl will come to love us. Come to love our cruelty. And if she doesn't, we destroy her. We destroy her as we have done so many before."

There was madness in the Vale King's voice, Madness in his own, that left him unraveled.

Suddenly, he became conscious of a pair of eyes from behind, watching him like prey. He might have jumped if he hadn't been aware of to whom they belonged.

Arms reached out from behind, curling around his chest, squeezing as if to be one with him.

"Master…" Raven whispered.

"It's good to see you again. I'm—"

'I'm sorry.' she interrupted. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I couldn't control it. I couldn't control the Hollowing."

Gently peeling her arms off of him, he turned to face his Guardian Knight and peered into those amethyst eyes marred by tears. Her long dark hair was disheveled and sprawled about, covering most of her face and chest. And yet she was still as beautiful as the first day he saw her.
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Cupping her face, he kissed her forehead and smiled. "You'll do better next time."

As if his kiss had wounded her, she touched her forehead with both hands. "Master kissed Raven! MASTER KISSED RAVEN!" Elated beyond words, she veered up like a panther, pouncing on her master. And like a house of cards, he toppled on his back, mounted by a girl lighter than a feather.

When she began kissing his cheeks and forehead, Altair couldn't help but imagine an over-stimulated pup. He smiled, holding her by the waist, surprised by how smooth her skin felt… ethereal? Smooth like silk, yet softer, gentler.

A knock sounded at the door. It opened, and Atelia sauntered in as if she owned the space. Her cheeks flared as she bounded forward to offer up all the kisses she had.

Altair laughed, shouting for them to stop, but the two girls kept at it. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Medusa pulled them up off him by the nape of their necks. They stiffened like kittens, being held by their mothers.

"You are not a little girl, Raven," Medusa said. "Be mindful of your actions. And Atelia… you are not to enter anyone's room until you get their explicit permission."

Heads dangling mournfully, Medusa settled them on the bed and turned to Altair. She eyed him before her cheeks reddened. "If you would cover yourself, your grace. Atelia is here."

Altair stood up, hiding his dragon that slipped from out of his robe, and grinned much like a child without the slightest hint of shame.

"You…" Medusa shook her head. "I saw Elena… Will she be alright?"

With a distance in his voice not easily heard, he said, " That is up to her."

That made Medusa frown, and he wondered why. As far as he knew, the two barely talked during their travel back to Inka. Even in the Keep, they hadn't crossed each other's paths.

"Do you feel for her?"

"You seek to break her, do you not?"

"She is already broken," Altair admitted, recalling that sunken look of pain. "What I seek is for her to know her place."

"And does she?" When Altair did not answer, she added, "All she has left is the honor all women carry. Will you take that from her? Is there any satisfaction in that?"

Altair felt something sour in his mouth. Distaste. "And what would you suggest? She defies me."

"My Lord, I am aware you walk the Path of Eternal Madness, Aeron. If you do this… I fear you will forever be lesser than a man. Look at all the women you have around you. Each is willing to warm your bed, willingly…"

"Even you?" The Vale King asked, voice like a blade through the serpentine woman. And a part of Altair raged, like never before, at the blatant disrespect. It forced him back in control.

Medusa trembled. "This isn't about me. It's about you and your loss of control. If you want her… do not do it through force. There is no honor in that. None.

If you are the likes to take honor, it is such dishonor; you are not the man I should follow. Not me or any of the women that follow you. Certainly not Syris or Reina. If you do this, how long will it be before you attack Atelia? A literal child?"

Silently, Altair glanced at Atelia playing with Raven like a pair of sisters. Two bunnies, one White, one Black. He frowned, asking himself, 'Why am I so accepting of my counterpart's madness.' he had never thought about it.

He remembered the disgust he'd initially felt for this bet, and yet, despite the initial revulsion, somewhere along the way, it turned into acceptance as if it was nothing new.

"Do you want to be someone like that? Perhaps that devil is more of a negative influence than I thought… or perhaps." Her gaze became all-encompassing, penetrating to find even the smallest of weaknesses or even his thoughts. "Perhaps you want to be no better than a devil. To be less than what your birthright would have of you.

To be less than what The Night Mother would have of you, or has she lost any meaning to you."

"Enough…" He snapped. Then softer, he said, in but a whisper. "Enough."

"Master?" Raven said, sensing a shift. She pulled herself from the bed, where she wrestled with Atelia. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… Nothing at all."