Only a tally later, Xoris was back at the very same keep, but much had changed. He could sense resentment from those whose friends he had unintentionally petrified, and fear from almost everyone else. I don't belong here. He still had no knowledge of how to summon that power again, barely believed he had ever done so to begin with, and honestly, he didn't want to. All he wanted was to see Luke, and hopefully nothing more.

A white tent crusted with dirt stood before him, but he hesitated, scooping his hand through his short brown hair. What if he had worsened? Nausea crept up from his stomach along with the bloody remnants of his dream, but he forced them down. He took a deep breath. Taking a step inside, he entered to see Luke lying on a simple cot. His eyes opened at the sound of his new armour clinking, and he sat up. He was bandaged, but happy as ever.

"Xoris! Look at you! Whatever happened to you out there, and look at your new armour! Were you promoted?" He went to sit up, wincing a bit, but he still managed to pull Xoris into a tight hug. It was warm, comforting. He returned it with a soft smile, sinking in its release, even if only for a moment. He must have fallen into it a bit too hard though, because when Luke let go, he drew back in concern, pushing on Xoris' shoulders lightly to get him to take a seat on the cot next to him. Oh right, the armour.

The king had been none too subtle, with the silver breastplate, embossed with a gold insignia of an eye. His new sword matched too, and he'd been given an emerald cape to lay on top of it all. It was thick, heavy, and hot. He hated it, but that wasn't what he had come to talk about. "What... happened?"

He had already decided that he wasn't going to hide the truth, but he still dreaded his reaction. "Two tallies ago... what happened was..." He trailed off. How do I have an entire secret, and feel like I know nothing? "Well, I-I don't truly know what happened. Everyone is saying that I turned the army to stone, but I'm still not sure how."

Luke gasped at this, blue eyes wide like a child with a bedtime tale. "Are you a maje? Can you do majik too?"

Xoris shook his head. Majik had never been an option for him, though if anything, he had begun to notice it, which was new to him. Things that he'd just passed by before now seemed brimming with life. The decisive pulse of the Stain in the world around him, heka, or the bristling touch of sitting in a candle flame. Even now, sitting next to Luke, it was like he had a crackling glow to him that he couldn't see, pricking at his skin like an explanation to where his energy came from. It was things like that that made now being Stained very difficult to deny. He tried to ignore it, focusing once again on the conversation.

"No, or at least, not exactly. From what the king's advisor tells me, I'm descended from a Horror that ruled hundreds of Withers ago. It was called The Thing of Eyes and Teeth, and it petrified living creatures... among other things. That power was passed down to me through blood, and after that battle, something changed. I've started being able to sense majik, although I can't use it. My blood is red, my heartbeat is strange now... I'm one of the Stained." He decided to leave out how itchy his teeth and skin had been. No doubt, sand from travelling was still stuck in some places it shouldn't be. He'd spare Luke the useless details. "Now I've been knighted and they expect me to call upon it again to win us the war." Xoris looked away from his face in shame.

"Right after you didn't want to be drafted or kill much of anything too. What bad luck," he pointed out after a minute of thought. Xoris' eyes shot open as he looked at him in surprise.

"You're not going to ask me to leave? Or at least be cautious?" He couldn't sense an ounce of fear in him.

"No, although I'm going to assume others have already begun to do so. But, from what I can see, you're still my caring friend coming to see me as soon as he was able. Whatever majik or Stained heka, or power you discovered, you used it to save my life. You don't even look any different. No fangs, correct?" he jokingly asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, none of that." Xoris laughed.

"Then why should I care if you're Stained? I'm half-Fae, and I fight for the Human side. You can too, so we're not even enemies." Xoris could have cried out of sheer appreciation that his friend simply didn't care, but Luke had never liked to dwell on emotions, at least, not the negative ones.

"So what happens now? As I said, you don't seem very committed."

Xoris sighed, clutching the edges of the bed tightly. "I barely know what I am, much less how to use it. If they hadn't pulled me aside, I never would have known that I caused it. I have no clue how I used that power... And is it even right? The reports tell me that I killed several of our own men, along with countless enemies. Is it right for me to end their lives? It all feels so wrong now, even if it is the king's orders. If I'm descended from a creature like them, is it murder? Does that make me evil?" He felt like he was thinking too many thoughts at once, all of them convoluted and contradictory.

"Why not deny them? Figure out what you are and what you want to do, then maybe come back?" He said it so simply, like it was the clear answer. "It will be like the small break you never got."

He thought on it for a moment. Could he do that? Would that be betraying the Human race, or simply allowing himself time?"...Perhaps I will. I'll at least stay until you're better, and then I'll figure something out. Perhaps I can find more on this legend, and of their kind." A sense of excitement filled him as he thought about it. Really, if he could figure out how to use the power on command, the king couldn't exactly deny a request like that, and it wasn't as though he'd ask to be paid for it. He beamed at him. "So, when should you be healed by?"

"No more than two days," Luke answered cheerfully. "The medics say that I'm resilient. They can't keep me here for long."

Xoris laughed. They were right about that. He bid him good night and left to find his own tent when the general's voice rang out. "Getting some rest before the battle?"

"Battle? I thought we were just stopping at the keep to visit Luke." He hadn't heard that troops were still headed to this area.

"The Beasts climb over the mountains every day. You know this. It'll be a solid start for your new position, so learn to be useful. Good night." He made to walk away.

"But wait, isn't it too soon?" he called out to him, fingers brushing against each other as the general turned towards him, just his head over his shoulder. "I don't even know how to activate the power. I can barely fight with a sword. Can't it wait at least two days for Luke to get better?"

"This was a trip to battle, not a trip to see friends. You activated it well enough when he was hurt the other day. He's hurt now. Do it again."

"I... I don't think that's how it works."

"Then figure it out before I do!" That was the last order as he turned away again and sauntered off.

A quarter turn or so later, Xoris lay in his own personal tent, away from the main fields, but he was unable to sleep, even with the several soft blankets beneath him. Ever since he had wielded that power, his mind had felt more open, as if he were more awake than he had ever been before, despite his extreme lack of sleep. It was as if his thoughts had been resting in a small bottle, and now that the cork was removed they could achieve so much more. The issue was determining exactly how this led to the power, and how he was to control it once there. He could feel it now, like a cold draft that sat higher in his head, out of reach. If only there was some sort of ladder, or a pair of stairs...

The hair on the back of his neck bristled at the thought. He felt calm, collected... powerful. It was an imagined staircase in his mind, seemingly made of his own steady breath. He only needed to walk up them to achieve it.

He closed his eyes and felt the energy dissipate. He was ready for battle.

𓂀

The armour still lay heavy on his shoulders, but in the dawn's light it no longer made him feel too small for it. He walked alone, with only the general a ways behind him to watch. The Beast army was spread on the hills in his forefront, seemingly confused. Only one man? they appeared to be thinking as they approached gingerly. He counted slowly, calculating their positions.

Then they were ready. Over their confusion, cries rang across the hills as they ran forward. He closed his eyes as his breathing became focused and rhythmic. In, out. Up, hold, down, like stairs. He took a step, then another... the skin became even more uncomfortable, but he continued onwards. He felt a lightness as his feet lighted from the ground, but he couldn't afford to lose focus. Not when they were this close.

Suddenly, he flung his eyes open, finding himself able to see at all angles, the world a bubbled up landscape, encompassing his whole body. Now he could see it, the Stained power, heka, running to flow through the crowd, stiffening every target the green gaze touched. He tried not to think of their lives, or what they were fighting for. It seemed so odd that he never really knew their reasons, or ever cared before. He tried to only focus on how after this, he could take up Luke's offer and leave. Maybe come back, maybe never fight again. They can't force me. If I can do this, they wouldn't dare to force me. His stomach lurched a bit at the idea that these Beasts, the things he had grown up to live in fear of, all grey and never to move again. He had become just as terrifying in turn. There was no denying that much, and it chilled him to his core.

When his feet came to lightly tap the ground, he immediately turned away. He put a hand over his face, not wanting to see their frozen faces. Even so, he could still clearly make out the entirety of the sand-covered fields before him, the sight remaining just as horrid. What? All he should have been able to see was the blackness of his covered face, but it was like he could see through his hand, clear as day. Panic laced through him, and he wrenched his hand away. Something was wrong. His heartbeat rang in his ears again, but no amount of stealing himself could have prepared him for the sight of his hands, coated in eyes that blinked in just as much shock back up at him.

He shook, unable to even scream as he raised his hand up, able to see his own face in turn while he stared back. It was like he had become a mirror to himself, revealing everything. His main pupils had shrunk and sharpened into a predatory shape, but more revolting was the clear presence of another pair of eyes, purple this time, embedded into his cheeks where his dimples usually lay. As he widened them in shock, he could feel a sensation on the back of his neck of being poked by his hair on one side, an aggravated tear trying to heal the pain. On the other, freshly sensitive skin brushed against the cool metal of his armour in a subconscious movement.

Only then did he scream, with a mouth filled with jagged teeth. His hands went back over his face as he screamed again and again, but it hid nothing. He was forced to see every kill he'd committed from every angle, every one making him look like the monster he'd become.

He was stopped by the general's hand on his shoulder, which was quickly withdrawn, he assumed out of fear. "Is that all of them?"

"I... I think so," he answered shakily. If there was, he didn't want to handle them. He had done enough.

"Good, now go back to looking as you were. No one wants to see any more Stained than they have to."

"I don't want to either. I don't want any of this!" he yelled, wrenching his head up from the ground to face the general, as unnecessary as that was. "I thought we came back here to make sure Luke was all right, I could learn to use a sword better, then we'd make decisions on things like this from there."

The man's body twitched as his gaze flicked over him, focusing on everything, but settling on nothing. Finally he looked away, avoiding any eye contact at all as he shoved any hint of fear under the same, gruff disposition as always."I already said this wasn't a trip to see friends. Besides, you don't need him. Learning a weapon now would be as useless as he is now."

Xoris stopped. "What do you mean, useless? He was the best soldier we had!"

"Exactly, and now we have a new one." The general gestured to the empty, bloodless field, looking at him as if he was stupid.

Xoris pushed himself up off the ground, using a blinking hand to shove the general away. He was done with this. He was going to find Luke, and leave with him. He whipped his head around, trying not to shudder at the lolling sensation of what could easily be a hundred eyes shifting under his flesh. His heart jumped at the feeling, his lungs constricting as he took it all in: the stone structure of the keep before him... the endless sands and mountains lying behind him. The white tent easily came into view in moments, and with that he shoved any other thought aside. He couldn't think about it now. For now he needed to prepare himself to explain the situation and carry the injured man out on his back if need be. Luke clearly wasn't being respected or appreciated here, and Xoris was not going to let him continue to be treated as anything less than he deserved. He'd dealt with that enough as it was.

"Luke!" he called through the flap door he'd lifted, but he received no answer from the empty cots. Of course! He had said they couldn't keep him long. He was clearly back at his own tent, sleeping in as always. Xoris backed out of there, able to spot the keep behind him without even turning around. Entering the dark building, he retraced his steps of the familiar building, finding the heavy wooden door of their once shared room. He swiftly banged it open with the side of his fist, breaking through the lock with ease.

The bed was empty.

"Luke passed away last night."

Xoris whipped around to face the general's silhouette framed in the doorway, though he'd already seen him there. "...What?"

"His wound healed all right, but some of the Stain must have been trapped inside. He was poisoned," he relayed casually, glancing at his dark, hair-covered knuckles. His sharp black beard seemed to move slower than time as he continued, "At least he was only a frontline. It could have been worse."

"Sir! That was my best friend. He was a brother to me, frontline or not. Where is his body?" He almost screamed the last part. Luke, dead? But he was always so lively, so healthy... If the arrow that struck had had any remnants of heka, the reaction to his own majik would have killed him, but... one of the Fae, gone just like that?

"We burned it already. Like I said, he was only a frontline. Now if it were you or I, we'd have been sent back home, so there's no need to worr-'' His blank, deep voice was cut short as Xoris strode over, grabbing his collar firmly as he lifted him off the floor. He felt so light, despite his heavier stature. He writhed under his grip like a penu, nothing but fur and weak bones that he could snap in an instant, if he wanted too.

Xoris spoke, his voice sounding dark, almost eerie as rage poured through his

words. "You don't deserve to have your body sent home when you have no compassion outside of rank. You didn't care if I lived or died until you could use me for power." He tossed the man down, hearing a loud snap sound as his back made contant on the stone floor.

His eyes bulged as he sputtered, "What... Did you say? Did you curse me? Some dark incantation?" His voice rose with fear at the last statement, almost making him sound younger, like a victim.

Xoris didn't know what he meant, and certainly did not care to answer. He was dead to him, as was the wretched keep. He left the camp and walked in the direction of the battlefield. Face after face peered back at him, all dead. Tears began to pour from his eyes helplessly, running over his body like a light sweat. He stared at a Vampire in front of him, a classic Stained. They didn't look nearly as terrifying now. He reached up, brushing his hands lightly against the rough surface. His head bent down to touch foreheads with the figure, if only to rest just a bit.

Luke had asked him what he'd wanted. The answer to that was a peaceful life, living out his passions. Reading, travelling, learning more of the world. That was all he'd ever wanted, and yet, none of that seemed possible in the face of the war. I just want it to end. But how? Was it his responsibility now? He certainly didn't feel like Humanity's last hope. His mind wandered back to the king. To turn my back on them in times like these is treason. Then he truly would be a Beast. The idea disgusted him, leaving him with only one option.

By the time the sky opened tomorrow morning, he would be heading right back to the Kingdom of Korim, and turning himself in. He couldn't bring himself to be anything that could aid Humanity, if this was what it led to, and to fight on the other side... He narrowed his eyes at the statue, before taking a swing at it. The head cracked off the base, soaring through the air until it landed a tree's length away. He wasn't like them, craving wanton destruction and blood on his hands. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was what he felt was necessary. The safest option, not the best.