Zavien
Kai's shout draws the eyes of the people around them but Zavien's too focused on the injury, the festering wound that's being debrided for all to see, the hurt that seems to bounce between them in mounting strength.
His sword connects with Kai's, the battle of wills mismatched by purpose. He doesn't press an advantage or try to shove again for fear of further maiming, simply holding his ground through the onslaught of reasoning, looking for an opening to heal. "A threat is a threat, Kai - whether you planned to act on it or not. How was I supposed to know you wouldn't? You didn't tell me that." He'd just found out that Kai had betrayed his best friend. The fiery temper could have easily burnt away reason, leaving only malice and anger in its place, willing to turn everything to ash in its fury - friend or not. Nothing about their interaction had given Zavien any reason to think he'd spare his or Lena's feelings when Koa had been his first victim.
Like a tension cord finally overextending itself, the force of it all snaps. The lesser sword shatters, the sudden lack of resistance attempting to pull him into Kai. It takes every bit of strength to pull against the momentum, and he nearly stumbles back on his ass to keep from making a Kai kabob.
When he regains his balance a step away, his breathing is shallow, wanting desperately to reach out again to take away the pain he'd caused, to fix what's been broken. But Kai doesn't invite him forward, and his eyes - though lined with pain - are clear in their rebellion.
It's a rejection that stings, the fight quickly dragging his sword tip into the sand, his voice becoming a near whisper. "It was never something I didn't appreciate, Kai." He'd told Flora as such. Zavien understands wanting to protect someone he loves - it's at the very core of his being. And yet, he can't deny that he hadn't understood the lengths Kai had been willing to go, the lies he was willing to spread.
Lowering his head, he sheathes his sword, unwilling to brandish it again, to risk more wounds when there's already so much hurt. His eyes linger on the charred laceration, shame coloring his mood darker. "I'm sorry you thought you needed a threat to convince me to do something I already planned," he shifts his feet, resisting the urge to reach out again as he asks, "but can you really tell me it was an empty one?' When he looks to Kai, it's not with pain or anger, but with a deep disappointment for having misjudged a friend.
His sword connects with Kai's, the battle of wills mismatched by purpose. He doesn't press an advantage or try to shove again for fear of further maiming, simply holding his ground through the onslaught of reasoning, looking for an opening to heal. "A threat is a threat, Kai - whether you planned to act on it or not. How was I supposed to know you wouldn't? You didn't tell me that." He'd just found out that Kai had betrayed his best friend. The fiery temper could have easily burnt away reason, leaving only malice and anger in its place, willing to turn everything to ash in its fury - friend or not. Nothing about their interaction had given Zavien any reason to think he'd spare his or Lena's feelings when Koa had been his first victim.
Like a tension cord finally overextending itself, the force of it all snaps. The lesser sword shatters, the sudden lack of resistance attempting to pull him into Kai. It takes every bit of strength to pull against the momentum, and he nearly stumbles back on his ass to keep from making a Kai kabob.
When he regains his balance a step away, his breathing is shallow, wanting desperately to reach out again to take away the pain he'd caused, to fix what's been broken. But Kai doesn't invite him forward, and his eyes - though lined with pain - are clear in their rebellion.
It's a rejection that stings, the fight quickly dragging his sword tip into the sand, his voice becoming a near whisper. "It was never something I didn't appreciate, Kai." He'd told Flora as such. Zavien understands wanting to protect someone he loves - it's at the very core of his being. And yet, he can't deny that he hadn't understood the lengths Kai had been willing to go, the lies he was willing to spread.
Lowering his head, he sheathes his sword, unwilling to brandish it again, to risk more wounds when there's already so much hurt. His eyes linger on the charred laceration, shame coloring his mood darker. "I'm sorry you thought you needed a threat to convince me to do something I already planned," he shifts his feet, resisting the urge to reach out again as he asks, "but can you really tell me it was an empty one?' When he looks to Kai, it's not with pain or anger, but with a deep disappointment for having misjudged a friend.
We wear our scars as proof
that we are still alive.
