Honesty
Posted: Sat Jul 11, 2020 2:07 pm
50th of Searing, 120
It didn't matter. Arkash continued to tell himself those three words after the event. Cojack had been beaten, all their money was stolen, and Arkash had been carved at with Brodie's dagger. Over and over again, his mind ran through the possibilities: what came next, how did they recover? The solution, to him, seemed simple. Risky, but simple.
[indent=30]Playing by the rules of the higher castes didn't work, even though they'd evaded taxes and ate next to nothing for years while living in piss-poor conditions, they still failed to save a meaningful amount of money. What they did save, was then stolen by those born more fortunate than himself and Cojack.
[indent=30]The more the young dragon thought, the more life made sense. It wasn't meant to be fair, and justice was a tool used by the clique of higher society to keep the downtrodden filth in line. Authority and power stemmed from only one thing: Strength. Be it in numbers, weapons, or physical prowess.
[indent=30]What would the Celebrant be without their Argent tools? What would the Argent be without their funding? The money that the nobility reaped from the poor only perpetuated their power, their oppressive squeeze on the gutter trash of their perfect lives.
[indent=30]Without unity, and while encumbered with the constant bleed of their wealth, which was used to keep the higher castes in control, there was no hope for them. Not a single soul in the nameless caste was going to experience a time where they didn't have to sweat, bleed, and scrape to support their overlords.
[indent=30]His thoughts, however dark and angry, made sense to him. And though Arkash had no funding, no subjects or weapons, or any physical prowess to speak of, he recognized the illusion of authority, of order. The world was a free-for-all. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Cojack was about done changing his bandages, hopefully for the last time. The wounds on his chest weren't deep enough to require stitches, but they were open and susceptible to infection. So, using the supplies he'd stolen in the weeks prior, they painfully cleaned his wounds. First with water then with rubbing alcohol, then they wrapped his chest tightly with bandages. The bleeding had started up again during the cleaning, but it slowed to a halt relatively soon after.
[indent=30]His brand? The carving of Brodie Thompson's initials in his chest? It would fade over the years, like his other scars. Arkash didn't shed like snakes, but in patches, gradually. The scales beneath were always harder, smoother, and free of marks. A day would come where he didn't have to look down and be reminded of his weakness.
[indent=30]Finally, his chest was done being wrapped. The entire day had slipped away just putting Arkash back together, and the night sky was now visible through the gaps in the panels of their roof. Arkash spoke a low, throaty "thanks, dad," before he limped to his throws, carefully sat, and laid down upon the fur.
[indent=30]There he laid and stared at the night sky from the rickety, worn shack. The rotting wooden walls that surrounded him were the same walls that sheltered him his whole life. He was born in that house and spent every night staring at the same decaying wood panels as the course of time eroded everything around him. Liu was gone, Cojack was almost there. Arkash? He didn't know.
[indent=30]"Does it hurt?" He asked in ithmi, at last. He was referencing Cojack's black eye.
[indent=30]Cojack was quiet for a moment, but eventually answered with a "yeah," in the same tongue.
[indent=30]Again, the son fell into silence. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He'd worked so hard to keep up with Cojack's medicine so that he wouldn't have to be in pain, but because of those monsters, none of it mattered.
[indent=30]"But," added the horse, and Arkash looked to him. "I've had worse, I'll live."
[indent=30]In his prime, Cojack told stories of the sorts of fights he'd gotten into on the road, at taverns. He even had scars that he claimed were done by broken bottles. Arkash could believe he'd had worse, but that didn't matter.
[indent=30]"Sometimes," started the horse, and Arkash looked away. "...I think you're so adjusted to looking after me, that you forget I'm not made of glass."
[indent=30]Arkash shifted uncomfortably. That wasn't... Entirely true. He didn't know why, but the thought of his father's suffering brought his chest to hurt. It made it difficult to breathe. Sure, some part of him knew that Cojack was going to survive, it was just a black eye, but... Feelings rarely made sense.
[indent=30]"I think that's also why you don't tell me anything, too." Cojack continued to speak against Arkash's silence, as though he meant to tempt the younger Rath into speaking.
[indent=30]"What?" Arkash asked at last and turned to face his father.
[indent=30]"You forget I'm not fragile. So you don't tell me about the scary stuff you're facing, cause you don't want me to worry." Cojack turned to hang his withered legs off the bed while he spoke to the laying reptile. "...Am I wrong?"
[indent=30]He wasn't. No, Cojack hit the nail on the head. That was exactly what Arkash did. "...I don't want you to worry," explained Arkash.
[indent=30]"Well, too bad. I'm always worried about you." Arkash raked the fur throw that he laid on with his claws before he clenched his hands into fists. "It's not because I think you can't handle it, it's because you think you're alone against it all."
[indent=30]"I am alone." Snapped Arkash.
[indent=30]"No, you're not," replied the older Rathari.
[indent=30]Arkash rolled onto his side with a low hiss of pain and turned his back to Cojack.
[indent=30]"You have that nice boss of yours," spoke the horse in an attempt to dispel the loneliness Arkash faced.
[indent=30]"He sold me out, dad. He told those guys where we live."
[indent=30]"Oh... Well, what about your colleagues?"
[indent=30]Maurice? "I only talk to them at work, and it's not like we're close." It felt cold to disregard the pencil human in such a way, but it was the truth. He knew nothing about the guy.
[indent=30]"Well, your other friends?"
[indent=30]"I don't have any friends," explained Arkash simply.
[indent=30]"That's not true..."
[indent=30]"Yes it is!" He snapped again, but with a little more fire. Arkash turned over roughly and sat up. The response from his body was a stinging pain through the scales of his chest. "I work all night and day! I spend my free time gathering tinder and firewood, shopping for medicine, or stitching myself back together cause I just got fucked up! I don't have time to make friends! ...And even if we get out of here, I don't think that's gonna change."
[indent=30]"...What do you mean?" Quizzed Cojack, his tone uncertain, confused, even.
[indent=30]"I mean...!" He started, full of rage and fire, only to hesitate and drop. "Even if we made it out of Lorien, and I could make a fair wage, I don't think I could make any friends."
[indent=30]Cojack furrowed his good brow, "well, why not?"
[indent=30]"I'm just... Not normal. Even if we were in a Rathari community, I'm... So damn toxic, and cold. I'm paranoid and callous. I don't trust people, I can't relate to them." He felt no empathy whenever he was told of their past traumas, of the troubles they faced; he felt nothing toward them. Part of him knew it was wrong, but aside from playing the part, there was nothing he could do. "...I don't think there's anyone else like me. I don't expect you to understand." With his heart spread out across the wooden planks of their floor, Arkash held his chest tight and lifted to his feet. They had more important things they had to deal with at that moment.
[indent=30]Cojack was quiet, but still watched his son move all the same. It was probably strange for him to realize that his son had grown into a person that was completely different from him, but it was a feeling all parents inevitably faced for better or worse. "You've got me, Ark," he spoke at last.
[indent=30]Arkash exhaled deeply while he stood at the door, then took the lock into his claws. "You're all I've got, dad," he corrected, then closed the padlock and brought it over to his throws. With the cheap, clunky metal in his claws, he carefully sat and made sure to hold his wounds tight so that they didn't strain again.
[indent=30]By the younger Rathari's tone and mannerisms, it was clear that he was done with the topic. His words were true, however. Cojack was all he had. Everything else was gone. While he sat, he carefully picked at the lock with his claws. Silence, save for the quiet clicking of keratin on metal, almost deafened the two as they laid there in the quiet.
[indent=30]"...What happened after I left?" he asked and listened with one ear while he focused on the task of opening the lock.
[indent=30]Cojack exhaled a little. "Well, the one with glasses opened the door and saw me here. He must be about your age, Ark. Anyway, he demanded to know where the money was as if he knew we had a stash. He didn't even bother looking first. Naturally, I told him to ask his mother."
[indent=30]Arkash laughed a breath but maintained his focus on the mechanism of the lock. It was quite different from the door lock he'd picked with the help of Jerry 'The Cat', so he adjusted the angle to allow some of the moonlight that shone through the gaps in his roof to shine on the keyhole.
[indent=30]"He got a bit upset after he roughed me up a bit, then explained that his brother was going to kill you."
[indent=30]Arkash paused and looked to Cojack. The horse failed to meet his gaze. Arkash returned his focus to the lock and peeked through the hole with one eye.
[indent=30]"The money was sure to make Brodie happy, he said. Hopefully happy enough to let you live... So, I told him where it was. He took the money and ran." Cojack paused again, then sighed deeply. "Everything was quiet for a while, so I tried to climb out of bed to come and find you... But, I fell and got stuck there."
[indent=30]The lock clicked a final time and opened without the key. Arkash continued to stare at it before he looked up to the horse, who had tears in his eyes. "You traded the money for my sake?" For some reason, Arkash found himself smiling. When he first saw Alec Thompson with the money, he was filled with rage and grief. Only, it all faded when the thought crossed his mind that Alec had probably had to hurt Cojack to get the money. All that he felt after that was desperation and despair, the need to return home.
[indent=30]To think that they were feeling almost the same thing at the same time over the same event helped to ease his feeling of loneliness. Even if he and Cojack were drastically different, he could relate to the horse in some ways. "I would have done the same, Dad," spoke the reptile in assurance. He held the opened padlock in his claws and rolled it between his digits while he spoke a quiet "we're gonna be fine; we'll make it."
It didn't matter. Arkash continued to tell himself those three words after the event. Cojack had been beaten, all their money was stolen, and Arkash had been carved at with Brodie's dagger. Over and over again, his mind ran through the possibilities: what came next, how did they recover? The solution, to him, seemed simple. Risky, but simple.
[indent=30]Playing by the rules of the higher castes didn't work, even though they'd evaded taxes and ate next to nothing for years while living in piss-poor conditions, they still failed to save a meaningful amount of money. What they did save, was then stolen by those born more fortunate than himself and Cojack.
[indent=30]The more the young dragon thought, the more life made sense. It wasn't meant to be fair, and justice was a tool used by the clique of higher society to keep the downtrodden filth in line. Authority and power stemmed from only one thing: Strength. Be it in numbers, weapons, or physical prowess.
[indent=30]What would the Celebrant be without their Argent tools? What would the Argent be without their funding? The money that the nobility reaped from the poor only perpetuated their power, their oppressive squeeze on the gutter trash of their perfect lives.
[indent=30]Without unity, and while encumbered with the constant bleed of their wealth, which was used to keep the higher castes in control, there was no hope for them. Not a single soul in the nameless caste was going to experience a time where they didn't have to sweat, bleed, and scrape to support their overlords.
[indent=30]His thoughts, however dark and angry, made sense to him. And though Arkash had no funding, no subjects or weapons, or any physical prowess to speak of, he recognized the illusion of authority, of order. The world was a free-for-all. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Cojack was about done changing his bandages, hopefully for the last time. The wounds on his chest weren't deep enough to require stitches, but they were open and susceptible to infection. So, using the supplies he'd stolen in the weeks prior, they painfully cleaned his wounds. First with water then with rubbing alcohol, then they wrapped his chest tightly with bandages. The bleeding had started up again during the cleaning, but it slowed to a halt relatively soon after.
[indent=30]His brand? The carving of Brodie Thompson's initials in his chest? It would fade over the years, like his other scars. Arkash didn't shed like snakes, but in patches, gradually. The scales beneath were always harder, smoother, and free of marks. A day would come where he didn't have to look down and be reminded of his weakness.
[indent=30]Finally, his chest was done being wrapped. The entire day had slipped away just putting Arkash back together, and the night sky was now visible through the gaps in the panels of their roof. Arkash spoke a low, throaty "thanks, dad," before he limped to his throws, carefully sat, and laid down upon the fur.
[indent=30]There he laid and stared at the night sky from the rickety, worn shack. The rotting wooden walls that surrounded him were the same walls that sheltered him his whole life. He was born in that house and spent every night staring at the same decaying wood panels as the course of time eroded everything around him. Liu was gone, Cojack was almost there. Arkash? He didn't know.
[indent=30]"Does it hurt?" He asked in ithmi, at last. He was referencing Cojack's black eye.
[indent=30]Cojack was quiet for a moment, but eventually answered with a "yeah," in the same tongue.
[indent=30]Again, the son fell into silence. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He'd worked so hard to keep up with Cojack's medicine so that he wouldn't have to be in pain, but because of those monsters, none of it mattered.
[indent=30]"But," added the horse, and Arkash looked to him. "I've had worse, I'll live."
[indent=30]In his prime, Cojack told stories of the sorts of fights he'd gotten into on the road, at taverns. He even had scars that he claimed were done by broken bottles. Arkash could believe he'd had worse, but that didn't matter.
[indent=30]"Sometimes," started the horse, and Arkash looked away. "...I think you're so adjusted to looking after me, that you forget I'm not made of glass."
[indent=30]Arkash shifted uncomfortably. That wasn't... Entirely true. He didn't know why, but the thought of his father's suffering brought his chest to hurt. It made it difficult to breathe. Sure, some part of him knew that Cojack was going to survive, it was just a black eye, but... Feelings rarely made sense.
[indent=30]"I think that's also why you don't tell me anything, too." Cojack continued to speak against Arkash's silence, as though he meant to tempt the younger Rath into speaking.
[indent=30]"What?" Arkash asked at last and turned to face his father.
[indent=30]"You forget I'm not fragile. So you don't tell me about the scary stuff you're facing, cause you don't want me to worry." Cojack turned to hang his withered legs off the bed while he spoke to the laying reptile. "...Am I wrong?"
[indent=30]He wasn't. No, Cojack hit the nail on the head. That was exactly what Arkash did. "...I don't want you to worry," explained Arkash.
[indent=30]"Well, too bad. I'm always worried about you." Arkash raked the fur throw that he laid on with his claws before he clenched his hands into fists. "It's not because I think you can't handle it, it's because you think you're alone against it all."
[indent=30]"I am alone." Snapped Arkash.
[indent=30]"No, you're not," replied the older Rathari.
[indent=30]Arkash rolled onto his side with a low hiss of pain and turned his back to Cojack.
[indent=30]"You have that nice boss of yours," spoke the horse in an attempt to dispel the loneliness Arkash faced.
[indent=30]"He sold me out, dad. He told those guys where we live."
[indent=30]"Oh... Well, what about your colleagues?"
[indent=30]Maurice? "I only talk to them at work, and it's not like we're close." It felt cold to disregard the pencil human in such a way, but it was the truth. He knew nothing about the guy.
[indent=30]"Well, your other friends?"
[indent=30]"I don't have any friends," explained Arkash simply.
[indent=30]"That's not true..."
[indent=30]"Yes it is!" He snapped again, but with a little more fire. Arkash turned over roughly and sat up. The response from his body was a stinging pain through the scales of his chest. "I work all night and day! I spend my free time gathering tinder and firewood, shopping for medicine, or stitching myself back together cause I just got fucked up! I don't have time to make friends! ...And even if we get out of here, I don't think that's gonna change."
[indent=30]"...What do you mean?" Quizzed Cojack, his tone uncertain, confused, even.
[indent=30]"I mean...!" He started, full of rage and fire, only to hesitate and drop. "Even if we made it out of Lorien, and I could make a fair wage, I don't think I could make any friends."
[indent=30]Cojack furrowed his good brow, "well, why not?"
[indent=30]"I'm just... Not normal. Even if we were in a Rathari community, I'm... So damn toxic, and cold. I'm paranoid and callous. I don't trust people, I can't relate to them." He felt no empathy whenever he was told of their past traumas, of the troubles they faced; he felt nothing toward them. Part of him knew it was wrong, but aside from playing the part, there was nothing he could do. "...I don't think there's anyone else like me. I don't expect you to understand." With his heart spread out across the wooden planks of their floor, Arkash held his chest tight and lifted to his feet. They had more important things they had to deal with at that moment.
[indent=30]Cojack was quiet, but still watched his son move all the same. It was probably strange for him to realize that his son had grown into a person that was completely different from him, but it was a feeling all parents inevitably faced for better or worse. "You've got me, Ark," he spoke at last.
[indent=30]Arkash exhaled deeply while he stood at the door, then took the lock into his claws. "You're all I've got, dad," he corrected, then closed the padlock and brought it over to his throws. With the cheap, clunky metal in his claws, he carefully sat and made sure to hold his wounds tight so that they didn't strain again.
[indent=30]By the younger Rathari's tone and mannerisms, it was clear that he was done with the topic. His words were true, however. Cojack was all he had. Everything else was gone. While he sat, he carefully picked at the lock with his claws. Silence, save for the quiet clicking of keratin on metal, almost deafened the two as they laid there in the quiet.
[indent=30]"...What happened after I left?" he asked and listened with one ear while he focused on the task of opening the lock.
[indent=30]Cojack exhaled a little. "Well, the one with glasses opened the door and saw me here. He must be about your age, Ark. Anyway, he demanded to know where the money was as if he knew we had a stash. He didn't even bother looking first. Naturally, I told him to ask his mother."
[indent=30]Arkash laughed a breath but maintained his focus on the mechanism of the lock. It was quite different from the door lock he'd picked with the help of Jerry 'The Cat', so he adjusted the angle to allow some of the moonlight that shone through the gaps in his roof to shine on the keyhole.
[indent=30]"He got a bit upset after he roughed me up a bit, then explained that his brother was going to kill you."
[indent=30]Arkash paused and looked to Cojack. The horse failed to meet his gaze. Arkash returned his focus to the lock and peeked through the hole with one eye.
[indent=30]"The money was sure to make Brodie happy, he said. Hopefully happy enough to let you live... So, I told him where it was. He took the money and ran." Cojack paused again, then sighed deeply. "Everything was quiet for a while, so I tried to climb out of bed to come and find you... But, I fell and got stuck there."
[indent=30]The lock clicked a final time and opened without the key. Arkash continued to stare at it before he looked up to the horse, who had tears in his eyes. "You traded the money for my sake?" For some reason, Arkash found himself smiling. When he first saw Alec Thompson with the money, he was filled with rage and grief. Only, it all faded when the thought crossed his mind that Alec had probably had to hurt Cojack to get the money. All that he felt after that was desperation and despair, the need to return home.
[indent=30]To think that they were feeling almost the same thing at the same time over the same event helped to ease his feeling of loneliness. Even if he and Cojack were drastically different, he could relate to the horse in some ways. "I would have done the same, Dad," spoke the reptile in assurance. He held the opened padlock in his claws and rolled it between his digits while he spoke a quiet "we're gonna be fine; we'll make it."
