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( Click. )(no subject)
The lake is an ancient place, dark and deep. Apparently it's some sort of tourist destination now, and Jade can see little vacation homes dotting the edge of the lake, pale smudges against the darkening twilight.
What does Heine thinks of these trespasses to his territory, he wonders? Does he resent these humans and their entrepreneurship, their never-ending desire to expand and tame every bit of wilderness they lay eyes on? Or does he see it as an opportunity - a veritable feast for that black lake of his?
Whatever the case, Jade is of the opinion that Heine has more than enough mortals to amuse himself with. He walks slowly along the lakeside, breathing in the clean, sweet air as the evening deepens around him. Heine must know he's here, but he hasn't shown himself yet; he seems determined to continue making a nuisance out of himself.
It's not until dusk falls that Jade finally speaks out. "It's not polite to leave a guest waiting, you know."
What does Heine thinks of these trespasses to his territory, he wonders? Does he resent these humans and their entrepreneurship, their never-ending desire to expand and tame every bit of wilderness they lay eyes on? Or does he see it as an opportunity - a veritable feast for that black lake of his?
Whatever the case, Jade is of the opinion that Heine has more than enough mortals to amuse himself with. He walks slowly along the lakeside, breathing in the clean, sweet air as the evening deepens around him. Heine must know he's here, but he hasn't shown himself yet; he seems determined to continue making a nuisance out of himself.
It's not until dusk falls that Jade finally speaks out. "It's not polite to leave a guest waiting, you know."
(no subject)
Baticul is burning. Night hangs heavy over the city, dark plumes of smoke rising into the air as Malkuthian soldiers roam the streets freely, drunk from their victory. The capital city of their greatest enemy had fallen; the war is won.
Even the palace had been breached, its heavy doors blasted apart by a fonic arte. Small groups of soldiers move through the halls, swiftly dispatching the last few pockets of resistance, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. But the servants and guards of the palace don't interest them: they are after a greater prize. Methodically, they search through every room of the once-grand palace, frustrations mounting as their quarry continues to elude them.
"That damn prince, where is he hiding?" One of them growls, after yet another room yields nothing. Anger crackles in the air as the group of soldiers moves as a pack, heading to the next door, the last one on this particular hallway.
"Locked," someone reports after trying the door.
The fonist of the group scowls, readying an arte. "Explosion!"
The door crumples apart in a burst of flame. The soldiers spill into the room, weapons at the ready.
Even the palace had been breached, its heavy doors blasted apart by a fonic arte. Small groups of soldiers move through the halls, swiftly dispatching the last few pockets of resistance, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. But the servants and guards of the palace don't interest them: they are after a greater prize. Methodically, they search through every room of the once-grand palace, frustrations mounting as their quarry continues to elude them.
"That damn prince, where is he hiding?" One of them growls, after yet another room yields nothing. Anger crackles in the air as the group of soldiers moves as a pack, heading to the next door, the last one on this particular hallway.
"Locked," someone reports after trying the door.
The fonist of the group scowls, readying an arte. "Explosion!"
The door crumples apart in a burst of flame. The soldiers spill into the room, weapons at the ready.
(no subject)
They used to call him Necromancer, the Malkuth Empire's most notorious soldier, the Emperor's right hand, and more besides. Not that any of those titles hold meaning anymore. His country had fallen, his emperor is dead, and Kimlascan technology had taken his own powers away from him. Jade supposes he's lucky to still be alive. Freedom is something that can be regained; death is the end.
He's quiet (docile, almost) during the trip through the desert. He's just as quiet as they walk through the sprawling manor that will be his new prison, but his eyes are watchful, carefully tracking their path through the golden halls.
The Kimlascan dignitaries lead him to a man he recognizes from military reports: Zakrian, one of Kimlasca's more notable suppliers during the war. Jade tries to recall what he knows of the man, but his knowledge is regrettably limited: Kitaryl, some sort of young genius and - judging by the splendor around them - a man who quite enjoys his luxuries.
The dignitaries talk, sweet words of thanks for Zakrian's aid during the war, using many words to say very little. Jade listens in on the conversation, but most of his attention is on Zakrian. He doesn't bother to conceal the way he's studying the man, a scrutiny in his red eyes quite at odds with his status as a slave.
"As a token of our appreciation," one of the dignitaries is saying, "We would like to present you with this slave. He was one of Kimlasca's greatest enemies, but he is quite harmless now, and quite the trophy to possess."
Hands push at him, and Jade sinks to one knee, seeing little point in resisting. He probably doesn't look like much, with his hands chained behind his back and dressed in nothing but a plain white tunic, but at least the Kimlascans had taken pains to make him presentable. He is well-groomed, his skin unblemished, all the ugliness of war wiped away under the skilled hands of Kimlascan healers.
He's quiet (docile, almost) during the trip through the desert. He's just as quiet as they walk through the sprawling manor that will be his new prison, but his eyes are watchful, carefully tracking their path through the golden halls.
The Kimlascan dignitaries lead him to a man he recognizes from military reports: Zakrian, one of Kimlasca's more notable suppliers during the war. Jade tries to recall what he knows of the man, but his knowledge is regrettably limited: Kitaryl, some sort of young genius and - judging by the splendor around them - a man who quite enjoys his luxuries.
The dignitaries talk, sweet words of thanks for Zakrian's aid during the war, using many words to say very little. Jade listens in on the conversation, but most of his attention is on Zakrian. He doesn't bother to conceal the way he's studying the man, a scrutiny in his red eyes quite at odds with his status as a slave.
"As a token of our appreciation," one of the dignitaries is saying, "We would like to present you with this slave. He was one of Kimlasca's greatest enemies, but he is quite harmless now, and quite the trophy to possess."
Hands push at him, and Jade sinks to one knee, seeing little point in resisting. He probably doesn't look like much, with his hands chained behind his back and dressed in nothing but a plain white tunic, but at least the Kimlascans had taken pains to make him presentable. He is well-groomed, his skin unblemished, all the ugliness of war wiped away under the skilled hands of Kimlascan healers.
(no subject)
In the morning, the celebrations will be over, giving way to weeks of tedious meetings and paperwork and everything that comes with annexing new territory. Then comes their next campaign, their next war, their next victory.
Tonight, however, is given over to merry-making. Jade had spent his evening among his men, but now midnight had come and gone, and there's only him and Kouen together in a commandeered room of the palace. It's dimly lit, the low candlelight surrounded by shadows on all sides. Not the usual ambience Jade prefers, but for a night like this, it serves its purpose. His whole body buzzes, alcohol and adrenaline lingering in his veins, the dark taste of wine on his tongue and the hum of anticipation in the air.
Pushing his chair from the table, he rises to his feet, steady despite the drinks he had. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night," he announces, an unspoken invitation in his words. "By your leave."
Tonight, however, is given over to merry-making. Jade had spent his evening among his men, but now midnight had come and gone, and there's only him and Kouen together in a commandeered room of the palace. It's dimly lit, the low candlelight surrounded by shadows on all sides. Not the usual ambience Jade prefers, but for a night like this, it serves its purpose. His whole body buzzes, alcohol and adrenaline lingering in his veins, the dark taste of wine on his tongue and the hum of anticipation in the air.
Pushing his chair from the table, he rises to his feet, steady despite the drinks he had. "I think I'm going to turn in for the night," he announces, an unspoken invitation in his words. "By your leave."
(no subject)
The market is, objectively speaking, a miserable place. Precious few of the merchandise are happy to be there, nude and bound and collared - sometimes even caged - free for every prospective customer to examine. Few of the customers are happy either. Prices are high, and the press of so many bodies create a stifling atmosphere.
All in all, it is exactly what Jade had expected. He strolls leisurely through the market, not particularly bothered by what is going on around him. It was one of the reasons he had been chosen for this assignment. Today is his first day at the market; he's meant to speak with the vendors, make connections, and walk away with a cheap but handy acquisition.
He's working on the last part now. It's surprisingly difficult to find someone useful and docile, but still with some spirit left - he does not trust the older slaves who are complacent with the system.
It's during his second time looping through the market that someone catches his eye - for all the wrong reasons. He stops, stares at the familiar figure in front of him, an uncharacteristically surprised expression flashing over his face.
Then he's smiling again. He's still unsure if this is a good turn of events, but perhaps he could use this to his advantage.
"My my, I didn't expect to see you here."
All in all, it is exactly what Jade had expected. He strolls leisurely through the market, not particularly bothered by what is going on around him. It was one of the reasons he had been chosen for this assignment. Today is his first day at the market; he's meant to speak with the vendors, make connections, and walk away with a cheap but handy acquisition.
He's working on the last part now. It's surprisingly difficult to find someone useful and docile, but still with some spirit left - he does not trust the older slaves who are complacent with the system.
It's during his second time looping through the market that someone catches his eye - for all the wrong reasons. He stops, stares at the familiar figure in front of him, an uncharacteristically surprised expression flashing over his face.
Then he's smiling again. He's still unsure if this is a good turn of events, but perhaps he could use this to his advantage.
"My my, I didn't expect to see you here."