[SE] Nothing harder than the gospel truth

It's late by the time Koa reaches King's End; or maybe it's quite early? He's lost all sense of time in the melee, lost everything but the driving need to see his people to safety. Unsure how many days have passed (one? Two? none at all?), the weary Dragoon is fueled entirely by coffee and a few stolen hours of sleep. It shows in the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremor of his hands, the way his heel won't stop tapping an anxious beat on the wooden floor of the cart that carries him through the darkness, away from the skyport and toward civilization.

He'd caught the last skyship to the last cart, only leaving his home when he was sure he'd done all he could. Disheveled and coated in dust and sweat, he stares with bloodshot eyes into the retreating distance, one hand curled into the fur of a sleeping Pip. Exhaustion claws at every cell in his body, but Koa doesn't rest - can't, not until this is finished, until he knows they're safe. Besides, there is no relief in unconsciousness. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the Tower falling, memories of the first time overlaid on this second, with a dragon's roar tied like string between them, echoing a refrain of failure and fear.

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

He hadn’t expected to find so many people arriving via Skyship, but after the broadcast was unleashed upon them and Sunjata had already been working in Mourn, things slowly started to make sense. It felt like a military movement, if one were brought on by chaos and uncertainty, but having zero qualms with Stormbreak aside from their leader - and being close to Koa who lead the Dragoons anyway, he’s hopeful that the Dragoons that appear in his region are seeking refuge rather than attacking.

But most of them, he realizes, are covered in dust and debris, a fear in their eyes that seems to suggest the prior, and to that the Flood doesn’t stress them out further - greeting them, offering refuge, and surveying cart after cart for familiar faces in his macaw shift, gliding through the dark of night until he spots Koa on the very last wagon.

The bird lands in the cart alongside the dusty, exhausted Dragoon, dark eyes peering over at him briefly before he shifts into himself and leans forward with concern flaring across his face. “Hey.” It’s soft, gentle, open ended for Koa to speak first, not wanting to ask or probe too many questions when he’s sure Koa’s capable of answering before the Flood has to ask.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Oh cool there's a bird now.

Koa smiles at the parrot, his tired brain failing utterly to place it as an Attuned. "Hey, bird," he greets, reaching out to tap its head - except that it of course then turns into a man, and a very tall man at that, leaving Koa with his hand instead pressed against a point at Sunjata's torso. "Oh. Not bird." Blinking blearily, he hesitates before patting the Flood, because his hand is already out here.

Realizing what he's done, Koa pulls his hand away, scrubbing the weariness from his face as his foot continues to bounce. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that." A low chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, face buried in his hand. "Sorry to show up like this. You got the letter, yeah?"

He didn't, of course, because a letter wasn't sent. Look, y'all. Koa tried.

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

The tap to a feathered head is brief before Sunjata’s changing back into himself, feathers soon replaced by tattooed skin and a concerned glimmer in his gaze as Koa’s hand pressed against his sternum. He doesn’t move, he just watches, dark steel nodding as Koa speaks again and pats him on his chest before withdrawing. Shrugging lightly and immediately, because the Flood doesn’t care whether or not the Dragoon pats him, he shakes his head when Koa buries his own into his hands.

“It’s okay. No, I didn’t get the letter. But I heard the broadcast so it kinda made sense when everyone came in.” He admits, puffing out a little sigh as he leans forward. “What do you need?” Willing to help however he can, Sunjata’s gaze scans Koa’s shape and anxiety slipping out of his bouncing knee, before he glances around this portion of Mourn and the carts that are ahead of them, bringing more dragoons into his region.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

"Oh. Sorry." For not giving a better head's up- though hopefully the first arrivals has clued Sunjata in.  That and the broadcast, the memory of which has Koa chuckling mirthlessly. "Yeah, things are pretty fucked. Tower fallen. People dying. Giant fucking dragon." He turns toward Jata, peering up from his hands, a manic sub-hysteria illuminating his eyes. "Wild how it's always dragons. You'd think we'd've made a more dragon-proof tower after the last time."

Ah, but there's still too much to do before he can fall apart. Exhaling forcefully, Koa forces himself to center again, forces the exhaustion back into its little box. "Help killing Dahlia?" he suggests drily, but the vein of anger and the glint in his eyes belies how fucking serious this desire actually is.

"Other than that?" Koa shrugs. "A safe place for my people while we regroup. I sent the civilians to Haulani for safety, but the Dragoons are at your disposal. Especially if involves fucking with the Family." This is personal for all his soldiers, now.

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

“It’s okay, Koa.” Sunjata repeats, just in case the Dragoon takes it close to the heart about the misinformation. King’s End can handle it. Hell, Sunjata wants to help where he can. And as he hears the young man continue, the frown on his face is there in part for the actions that happened and also because the last time? The last time he’d been the dragon that had carried them toward the assault, with Wessex using his own shift to destroy the Tower.

But he doesn’t elude to it, just huffs a sigh and frowns again. “Yeah. Might be a good idea.” He says in response to a dragon proofed tower. But when the dry suggestion comes next after asking what he can do, the Flood’s head bobs in a slow nod - because gods if he didn’t want to give Dahlia every ounce of pain and suffering she’d inflicted upon him and those he cared about.

“Well, I’m always down to help when it comes to taking on Dahlia. But uh, for now, what we can do is get you guys set up in New Haven or the Barrows. The Barrows are safe from the void creatures.. Mourn I haven’t gotten done yet. So.. Whatever you need to do it, decide when and where and I’m happy to help.” As for finding them places to recover, the Flood has already cleared anything else he had going on for helping set up tents and getting the infirmary and spaces available for the soldiers.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

"Really? Cus I definitely beat up a void-looking lady out there not that long ago." Koa gesticulates wearily to illustrate the tale. "Tall, raggy looking? Terrible singing voice? Brought some undead friends." Maybe it had been a fluke, though. Koa's given up trying to figure out how the Family and their beasties work.

He props his elbows on his knees, chin tucked into his palms. "Anyway, New Haven would probably work best. You already have housing set up, and Breakers have lived alongside the Void long enough to know how to hold our own." He rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "There's also the matter of the Dragoons. We talked before about setting up a branch here... how'd you feel about headquarters instead? Temporarily, at least."

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

Wincing a little as Koa recollects the ghosty void woman, Sunjata nods and puffs out a sigh that coincides with a small smile. “Yeah.. I heard about that. We finished the quest two days after.. So now it should be fine.” Rolling his shoulder a little, his smile brightens a touch toward Koa, his gratitude etched into the lines of his face. “Thank you for helping with that.” He hadn’t been there to help with it, but he was glad that there were people around to help.

Nobody that was from his region, but that mattered little when it came to the fact that they were all seemingly looking out for one another.

Nodding when he mentions the next plans, Sunjata mentally notes what they could do for the Dragoons when the suggestion has him nodding. “Yeah we can make a temporary headquarters. So long as you’re good with me converting it for something for the Enders when you guys get to go home?” Tilting his head, Sunjata watches Koa curiously.

Because they would get them home one day. He’s sure of it.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Now at last Koa actually smiles, and while it may be a mere shade of his usual buoyancy, it's better than the grim exhaustion and mirthless mania he's oscillating between up till now. "Convert it, keep it - whatever you want. Thanks, Sunjata," he says sincerely, shoulders drooping as relief floods through him. The Dragoons will be safe, and allowed to rebuild. He hadn't fucked up royalty.

And one day, he'll go home.

He lets himself lean on the side of the wagon, the bumpy rhythm of wheels on stone lulling him into a relaxed state. Shifting his copper gaze away from Sunjata, Koa watches as the road falls away behind them, each step taking him further and further away from home. "Is it always going to be this hard?" he wonders softly, not necessarily expecting an answer. Gods know Sunjata's been through a helluva lot worse than Koa can even fathom, but that's the thing about trauma, isn't it? It's painfully, isolatingly individualized, and while you can conceptualize the variation in relative severity, it doesn't change how fucking awful your shit feels.

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

Koa’s smile reflects on Sunjata’s own - a bit of happiness lingering despite the awful circumstances, that at least the Flood stands a chance of making something better for the younger man. “Yeah, no problem, Koa.” He offers quietly, settling in as Koa seems to start to relax, the wagon ride only slightly bumpy as it gets further down the road. Sunjata falls into a companionable silence, leaning back where he’s sitting to look over his shoulder to where they’re heading.

And that’s when he hears Koa’s question.

And that’s when he winces a little, jaw feathering as the smile falls and he casts is steel gaze back over toward the dragoon. “No. Not always.” He answers honestly, unsure if it’s even the right call right now, but he can’t offer anything else. “It gets bad and then it gets better. Then it happens again and again and each time feels like it’s the best and the worst compared to what came before.” It’s not the answer he knows Koa wants to hear, but it’s how his life has been.

It’s a short survey pool, but one he thinks might matter anyway. “But we continue to fight and celebrate anyway. Because we have to.”

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

It's not the answer Koa wants to hear, but it's honest, and the young soldier can appreciate that. He's not a boy anymore, not a child playing at hero: he's a commander, a soldier, and the days of hiding behind easy answers are gone along with his home. Sighing, Koa nods his head in his hands. "Makes me realize how much I've taken for granted," he muses. A crooked smile casts faint illumination across his face as he looks back to Sunjata. "Guess I better really live it up when I can, huh?" Grab life by the horns and all that jazz.

The road bends, and though Koa cannot see it from the back of the wagon, the lights of New Haven are blinking into existence before them as they near the little town. Refugees and residents hustle and bustle, working together to create accommodations for the population increase. It'll warm Koa's heart significantly when he does see it, but for now he's remembered the need for a very different feeling in his chest.

Straightening and dropping his hands, Koa turns more toward Sunjata, unbuttoning the front of his uniform to reveal the moth-scale undershirt beneath. "Hey... kinda weird favor, but would you mind punching me in the chest?" He grimaces slightly, his expression wry. "It's a Ludo thing," he clarifies, which pretty much explains it all.

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

“Shittiest part of growing up, honestly.” Though Sunjata had grown up drastically in his youth, the year he turned seventeen had him facing difficult choices and even harder ones after it. But he likes to think he’s still good, that he did the best with the hand that life had given him, even when it felt impossible to move day after day. One day, it just got easier, and the next? It continued to, until faced like this again. “Go hard or go home, I guess.” He exhales the sigh, but its with a touch of amusement that he does, before he’s shaking his head a little and sitting back against the edge of the wagon, following the lights as they appear.

He looks back to Koa when the Dragoon starts to move, brows lifting as he spots the armor undershirt beneath the uniform he wears. His gaze lifts up in silent question until he hears that it’s a Ludo thing - and fuck if he hasn’t heard that before when it came to the things Ludo got up to. “Uh yeah, sure.” He really doesn’t want to hurt Koa, but he supposes that if he does he can use his magic to heal him. So it’s that thought in mind that the Flood sits up a bit straighter and aims a punch at the undershirt Koa wears, hoping not to rattle him too badly.

“I can heal you if I hit you too hard.” He says as he withdraws, stretching out his fist.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

"Seems like." If you were to ask Koa two years ago he would say emphatically that he'd been made to grow up early. But time and perspective has helped him realize what a relatively charmed youth he'd had, protected by his flying city and a family he could turn to when things became too dark.

Things he never fully appreciated until they were gone.

He's still enough that cocky kid to have no concept of the pain he's invited, asking a demigod for a punch. "Oooffff," Koa gasps as Sunjata's hit lands, even the unarmed punch forcefully enough to shove some of the breath forcefully from his lungs. One arm wraps around his chest as he fights the urge to double over, nausea gripping him.  "I'm good," Koa wheezes unconvincingly. "Just gotta..."

Weakly he fails out to punch Sunjata back, willing the healing aspect of his wraps to work. Except of course hes not wearing his wraps: they're stuck in his bag, and how his knuckles hurt along with his ribs.

Dumbass.

"Okay, maybe yes to healing." He offers Jata a grimacing smile, shaking out his fist. "Thanks again, Jata. For everything."

 

Koa

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

He doesn’t expect the punch to hit as hard as it does - but often, Sunjata’s forgotten the strength of himself. So as he hits Koa and hears the oooffff and the wheezing, Sunjata’s jaw tightens a touch as he withdraws, stretching out his fist with a very focused look over the Dragoon. He tries to pinpoint what other exhaustion there is, even as Koa’s sluggish fist comes out to him, a wimp feeling of a breeze in comparison.

“Sorry.” He says, frowning softly before he nods to the agreement of the healing. And while he hears the gratitude in the follow up, rain begins to fall upon them, healing the Dragoon from the punch he’d just landed and hopefully takes the sting of his exhaustion away too. “You’re welcome, Koa. Anytime.” And he means it.

And hopefully, by the time they get to the heart of New Haven, Koa will be feeling a little bit better physically, even if emotionally he’s still struggling.

- FIN

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA