(no subject)
You're angry.
Your arm had long since grown numb, nothing but nerves to be jolted, every movement shooting pain up your spine even if muscles and blood and bone of your arm had given up feeling. It was a numbness that spread from the wound, a putrid smell like the dead and a tinge of black up the flesh that began eating away at the rest of you. It spread until it laced the color of your fingertips, moving it's way up.
For five days as you traveled, each jolt of the horses gallop agonizing, you watched it. As it spread your anger grew, replacing the shock, replacing the loss. Kadar, your brother, your younger brother, your blood. His cry when he died rings in your ear, replaced slowly by the sound of your heart beating, your pulse racing.
Altair. He had broken the Creed, his arrogance had gotten you in this situation, had gotten your brother killed. The healers around you bustle, shoving sharp liquids in your mouth. Your head swims, your vision with it. Altair had been thrown away at that last moment, leaving you and Kadar to fight. Altair had escaped, hadn't needed to face his own folly, didn't even have the memory of Kadar's last breath to haunt his dreams.
But you had won in the end. Finally, finally, after so many years. You brought the artifact, you traveled five days while a blackness ate away at your arm and mind, you brought the Master completion of the mission. Those moments, seeing Altair standing there, shock written in the lines of his face, you could even feel a bitter satisfaction.
You look groggily to the side as they bring out a blade, see a flash of white at the doorway. You never made many friends here, you were too driven. You looked out for Kadar, you competed with Altair, you did your duty. You wonder who the flash of white was. You hope it's Altair, you hope that if you die on this table he will carry your scream the way you carry Kadar's. You hope it becomes a festering blackness that eats him away.
They bring the blade to your upper arm and press in, saw. Everything turns white.
Your arm had long since grown numb, nothing but nerves to be jolted, every movement shooting pain up your spine even if muscles and blood and bone of your arm had given up feeling. It was a numbness that spread from the wound, a putrid smell like the dead and a tinge of black up the flesh that began eating away at the rest of you. It spread until it laced the color of your fingertips, moving it's way up.
For five days as you traveled, each jolt of the horses gallop agonizing, you watched it. As it spread your anger grew, replacing the shock, replacing the loss. Kadar, your brother, your younger brother, your blood. His cry when he died rings in your ear, replaced slowly by the sound of your heart beating, your pulse racing.
Altair. He had broken the Creed, his arrogance had gotten you in this situation, had gotten your brother killed. The healers around you bustle, shoving sharp liquids in your mouth. Your head swims, your vision with it. Altair had been thrown away at that last moment, leaving you and Kadar to fight. Altair had escaped, hadn't needed to face his own folly, didn't even have the memory of Kadar's last breath to haunt his dreams.
But you had won in the end. Finally, finally, after so many years. You brought the artifact, you traveled five days while a blackness ate away at your arm and mind, you brought the Master completion of the mission. Those moments, seeing Altair standing there, shock written in the lines of his face, you could even feel a bitter satisfaction.
You look groggily to the side as they bring out a blade, see a flash of white at the doorway. You never made many friends here, you were too driven. You looked out for Kadar, you competed with Altair, you did your duty. You wonder who the flash of white was. You hope it's Altair, you hope that if you die on this table he will carry your scream the way you carry Kadar's. You hope it becomes a festering blackness that eats him away.
They bring the blade to your upper arm and press in, saw. Everything turns white.