So the dark knight thought he was here because he had renounced his king? Did each of the people here hide some heavy deeds in their past? Some greater than others, apparently... The former assassin bearing the worst of them, by at least her judgement.
(But what had she done? If everyone else remembered something sinister from their old lives, why did not she? Only common, ordinary, mundane things? Was she misplaced, a guide, or did the world have other plans with her? Why was she possibly the only one to have been marked by this place so clearly?)
Nevertheless, was renouncing one's king really worthy of being thrown into this ... place? (Was anything she herself had done?) She knew nigh nothing of kings and how they functioned besides that they were rulers of entire lands. Not even knew knew. Was this "renouncing" an offence punishable by death? Was this how he had died? Certainly, there was also a reason to such an action, and if the reason was good, then it was a justified action, no? Kings were people, too, and thus as capable of being evil as any other. If that was the case, then renouncing said kind would have been the honourable thing to do. A less honourable man would have simply ... stabbed the king in the back or something, and even that would probably be more justified than just continuing to serve under an evil leader.
It had been mainly curiosity that led her to ask why had the dark knight enquired about their kings, but seeing the massive man actually turn his head towards her, just look at her without a word spoken, observing her without her being able to see is face in turn, made her question her decision. The silence grew uncomfortably long, and for a moment, in the light of his recent admission, a part of her even began to fear that she truly had asked something she should not have. Her pale face was concerned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
It was almost startling when the knight did reply at last, turning his whole body to face her. The only way to tell who was sane and who empty? Surely, one could ask almost any question that would have required rational thought. Asking whom one served was ... loaded. It almost sounded like there was one "correct" king to serve, and followers all others would be considered enemy. Or maybe they came from a free tribe with no kings? She shook her head slightly, barely perceptibly, for once lowering her gaze rather than looking wide-eyed at the knight.
"Surely, Sir, even not all sane people think alike..." she muttered, quietly, hesitantly. Was 'I don't think there are any kings here, and it is questionable whether I've ever been a hundred miles from one' equal to 'I don't know'? And strictly taken, the jingling madman and the former assassin had not even replied.
If her prior question had caused the dark knight to liven up, then her attempt to assure him that reaching the mountain again was possible seemed to make him withdraw and return to staring at the sand before his feet. He did not believe he could reach the mountain again because he was missing something he could not find again - a key, perhaps? In her admittedly rather simple and straightforward imagination, it made sense - for there to be a gate or a door and a key. Or at least something that stood in for them; who knew what apparent forms things took in this twisted world.
"Could be bad luck... We all know this place is adamant on making everyone suffer," she noted, now once more looking at what would have been the knight's face, had the helmet not been in the way. Sometimes things just had only dumb mundane coincidence as an explanation. "It was here, though, wasn't it? You can recall your death here, but not what it was? ...I don't know. Maybe, if any of us finds this ... a key, then you can come with us, Sir, if that place is really the only one fit for a home in this world? Walk in alongside us? You would not know you can't before you have tried. Or if it was left behind in there when you were killed the first time, then maybe we can bring it out for you?"
It was a strange, careful and tentative hopefulness she displayed; it did not quite fit this place, but she genuinely wanted to help, and it was all she had to offer at the time being. Without hope, what was to stop people from simply ... giving up? The desire to live told people to fight, but not fighting took less effort. She might have been utterly clueless about many things in this world and feeling at a loss, but at least she was still intent on fighting on. That had to be worth something.
"That is the thing," she, however, had to admit to the jingling madman, who had opted to join the conversation, too. For the time being, he seemed quite sensible, actually... But yet the assertion that she would probably remember deaths did not seem to click. "I recall stepping out to confront ... something that was after me, but I can't for the life of me remember how that fight ended. I remember a dark, damp cave, but I don't remember how I got out of it... Such things. There are pieces missing from this world, too. Only the last couple of days before meeting you lot are really clear."
The jingling man sighed, and clumsily scraped his fingers over his mask before removing it altogether. Had he been crying? He also looked a lot older and wearier than she would have expected. Guess she should have been able to tell from his voice, but still...
All of a sudden, she found herself out of things to say. Instead, she just carefully reached out a hand and briefly attempted to awkwardly pat the man on his shoulder or upper arm.
He sung a song after that. A sad one. The surrounding silence was contrasting and almost ominous. (Might something hear?) The rest of them had nothing more to say, it appeared...
She was ... thinking.
It took until the dark knight noticed something in the surrounding foliage when she was suddenly torn from thought with a start. With a reflex born from this land, her hands automatically closed around her axe's handle, eyes darting in the direction the dark knight was looking. Now that she was no longer buried under her own thoughts, she could hear faint voices, one male, one ... possibly male, but mostly oddly inhuman. Careful. Even with the dark knight remaining constantly vigilant, letting one's thoughts wander too far was not a wise idea.
Their plate-armoured companion stood abruptly, and shouted out. This time, the noise actually caused her to flinch, even as she quickly clambered to feet herself. Remaining squatted for so long had caused her legs to fall asleep...
"Sir, do you not think something else might also hear?" she enquired quietly once she was properly upright. She did not know whether it was her place to question anything the dark knight opted to do, but it was a valid question. Something could hear, and in this place, the somethings usually were neither kind nor fearful of humans. Once more she was gripping her axe in preparation of retaliating if necessary.
The former assassin promised to flank the newcomers and gave clear instructions on how to control them. Reasonable as caution was, she could not help to notice the change in the other's demeanour. This man is truely crazy. Killer? At that moment, she could believe it - and she did not like it the least. It stirred a slumbering sense of unease anew - the same unease that had first surfaced when the ex-killer-of-people first started rambling about being a weapon, and "losing edge". (Was this how 'empty' looked like? Was the man borderline empty already?)
An odd thought occurred to her as she was following the ex-assassins back with her eyes. He was a small man, one who relied - most likely - on precision and poison more than strength and massive damage. Even if he were to stab her, she could still kill him in turn. Even the strongest poisons took some minimal amount of time to work their way around the body - to be moved everywhere with blood. If he were to try and take her life, she would be certain to try to take his in return... There would be no point, only the satisfaction of the knowledge that the other did not win. For some reason, this calmed her a little. An eye for an eye ... no cruel deed shall go unpunished.
Reluctantly, she remained to wait for the newcomers' introduction. The axe was poised, even though they were still far.
Noctis
wintersoldier
Izurich
sandstorm
Alfhedil