video; un: deathweaver

[respired]

[ Koltira's sitting on a flat rock, long legs stretched out, a bottle of something dark and high proof in one hand--a souvenir from the remains of the saloon. He's surrounded by cacti and tall, spiky yucca plants; the silhouette of Perdition's Rest is not far behind him, due west. He's close enough to reach by a quick walk, but not so close that he's in the middle of everyone and their campfires and their singing and their camaraderie and so on. A thin dusting of snow coats everything, though close inspection reveals a mirror-like sheet of ice slowly crackling its way into being over the rock, as though animated of its own accord.

A few people have seen him since that terrible week, but not many. He's cleaned up since then. No more chains. Back in his fine, planet-appropriate clothes--long, black coat, stylish hat, boots with sharp spurs. He has new, red tattoos on one hand, and his pale hair is done up in a thick braid that falls over his shoulder.

He leans forward, pulling his right leg up and draping his arm over his knee. He looks miserable. And a little drunk. ]

No one regrets what transpired more than me. I was not in control of myself, though it's no excuse. An apology feels weak and inadequate, but you have it from me, a hundred times, a thousand times.

[ He takes a drink from the bottle. A long drink. ]

I will do what I can to atone, within reason. If you wish me never to look your way again, I will not. If you wish to strike me, you may, though I will defend myself against a lethal blow. If you have something else in mind, tell me.

I will work with Sieglinde, for whatever fruit that bears. It may bear nothing, but I'll endure the attempt.

[ The guilt in his expression, pulling at his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows, hardens. He clenches his jaw. ]

Yet, understand this. I will never be a slave again. Not to any of you, nor to anyone else. I will not beg, and I will not scrape. I will not kneel. And you do not have the right to decide my destiny. None of you do. That's my decision, and mine alone.

[ He sets the bottle down. Shuts his eyes. Last time this happened, he had given a lengthy explanation. He had laid bare the facts of himself: what he was, how he came to be that way. But not this time. He will not open a vein for nothing; he will not suffer dismissal on top of scorn. Not over his past.

Besides, as guilty as he is, as deeply and truly remorseful, he's still angry, too. ]

I have nothing more to say.

Comments

[daimeinashi]

I see.

[That's Unfortunate, thinks Sai, which means it's probably a good thing he's talking and not using the thought typing, because he's sure thinking about how difficult it would be to actually fight him if he ever had to. It'd be entirely too conspicuous to ask how fast he can go at maximum, though, so instead he asks--]

Who were your people, before you became a Death Knight?

[yeah he's been lurkin the other threads, he knows there was a Before.]

[respired]

Quel'dorei. A high elf, in the common tongue.

[ He's still an elf--undeath hadn't changed that--but it's true that he feels alienated from his people. ]

We lived a great forest, in a city bright with magic. The survivors still do--though our lands were ravaged by the undead, and have yet to fully recover.

[daimeinashi]

I have never heard of a high elf, admittedly.

[They only have humans and the bijou and a couple weirdly sentient ninja summon animal races like dogs and frogs and slugs because ??? reasons i guess.]

Did your people defeat these invaders?

[Sai may be a poor hand at the whole empathy thing but if there's one thing he completely understands, it's fighting tooth and nail to defend your homeland.]

[respired]

[ Koltira's been here almost a year now, so that doesn't surprise him. ]

Likely no variation exists in your world.

[ He smiles thinly. ]

We drove them back. However, most of us died in the process. And some [ such as himself ] were returned, then enslaved by the army that slew us.

[daimeinashi]

[Even for someone as surrounded by death as Sai has been throughout his life, raised and trained to be a weapon and nothing more--there is one shred of identity he was allowed to have, and that's as a shinobi of Konohagakure. He might not really see the inherent value of lives or like much of the rest of the team does, but he comprehends duty. Living, and dying for it. Sai can only respect a man who retained his loyalty up through his very last breath. There's something perhaps a little softer when he responds, and this time he doesn't ask another question--though he still has plenty. Instead:]

...Regardless of what may have transpired thereafter, your duty to your people was complete. Audentes would do well to remember that loyalty is not to be taken lightly, nor those who display it.

[Which is basically Sai speak for "you're a cool dude, I like you."]

[respired]

[ He cannot agree: once raised and enslaved, he turned his weapon on the remaining high elves. He helped ensure their near total slaughter. One among many atrocities for which he will never forgive himself.

But he's learning to take kind words where he can find them, and Sai has not proven himself insincere. ]

They may not consider me loyal, given what I have done.

[ By this point, it seems, he's both saved and hurt a good swath of the team. ]

Regardless, I will serve them, and our causes, for however long I am able to do so.