Waiting until past sunrise, flamesman noted the lack of usual commotion in the forestry; finding silence surrounding their makeshift camp. What little sleep the party did manage to get, Cain specifically slept with one eye open, in case of anyone in pursuit. Luckily, they'd been left alone and to their own devices. He supposed the jail's collapse spooked them away-- his friend more powerful than any warrior could imagine. Only before death did he present such abilities, yet, why wouldn't he do so previously?
Cain needn't linger on an answer he so obviously knew, though wished to deny. Instead, as he approached Maelstromclan's camp, he searched for signs of life. Anything confirming Dominic and Knox's whereabouts. They were surely around the camp-- no, perhaps village was a better term. They could be too late to arrive, considering the look Knox festered as he rushed towards the territory the night prior. Flamesman could see it in the young one's eyes: the hurt he felt, the longing conveyed.
Running a hand over the hilt of his blade, the man remained alert, listening to the rhythm of footsteps and change of the wind. The territory had certainly changed with newer constructions, but its core remained the same. Even if they assumed the place ridden with dead, it could be home to a new enemy force-- something akin to whatever took out their estranged family.
"The air is thick; it almost smells of cursed land."
Deep within the village, tucked amongst the beautiful structures that were now soured with black arrows, Knox was sitting in a small house and crying over the remains of his mother. The tattered body was held together by bits of crusted muscle and clothing, the rest taken by rats. Knox was inconsolable, sobbing and stroking the grimy skull of his mother that he'd rested in his lap. He was hunched over it and pressing his wet nose to the cartilage. Amongst the grief-stricken tears, he'd occasionally sing to the empty vessel in a low voice, almost certainly a song she would have sung to him as a child, as though the melody could bring her back. A foolish, childish hope.
Following the echoes of sobs, the swordsman eventually found his way over to Knox and halted. His footsteps were soft to the ground as to not disturb the boy and his mother. To witness the state of Maelstromclan was to accept the harsh reality; A complete return to nothingness. Cursed land lingered only ill-fated souls.
Although he spoke naught as he approached, flamesman gently held his shoulder and waited a moment before saying anything. A stare at the leftovers of his mother-- whatever the rodents and bugs hadn't finished. A gruesome sight to the eyes, but once a caring mother beside them all the same.
"What we once enjoyed and deeply loved we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us, so true is it of what raised us well."
Eventually growing quiet, Knox straightened. He slowly set his mother's body down but his grief-stricken expression remained. "I was such a fool." He said quietly to the man behind him. "We were all fools." Standing in a rush, Knox turned to face Cain.
"We left all that was truly good in the world here while we chased our fuckin' pride." His words were not spoken in blame of the man, but in disappointment in them all. He shook his head and pushed past Cain and out of the house. "We ran away as children and returned as fools with nothing."
"Pride, disappointment, anger, selfishness; those we left with, we return with the knowledge that it stood not in the way of love. Progress in character is not nothing. Even if we have yet to reach completion."
He responded, not to accuse the boy but to provide a slight comfort. No words could comfortably blanket over such tragedy.
"The fact that you understand what was chased is proof."
Although he again approached the entrance of the house, he left clear space between himself and Knox.
"Will you assist in letting our whole family rest?"
Flamesman stared at the boy, turning gears as he deliberated the request. After a moment, he closed his eyes and silently nodded.
Affixing his hands onto his sword, he took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled smoke. To control an inferno of such size would take total concentration-- but before he allowed flames to erupt in fury, he called out to Knox.
"Tell Dominic to be out in five. If he needs any longer, he can come find me."
Knox continued forward, waving a hand above his shoulder to gesture that he heard Cain's command.
"Dominic." He said, more in a growl than a call before raising his voice. "Dominic! Cain's gonna roast this godforsaken shithole- might wanna clear out." His voice cracked as he gazed around at the bodies, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I'm sorry..." The young man whispered to them all, "I'm sorry I wasn't here, I should be rotten with you." He bowed his head for a moment before walking out of the camp without looking back.
Dominic hoarsely answered, fighting for composure in the doorway of his aunt's residence. He wiped his face over, again and again, trying to figure out which expression he should wear to meet her with.
With no time left, he opened the door and tried to step inside.
Alas, the entire flooring was nothing but arrow upon arrow, making it impossible to walk any further. But far off, in the back of the room- he could make out the flies buzzing around.
Just as he opened the door, he slammed it shut, his hands glued to the handle.
"yeh... yeh, no."
Inhaling a shaky breath, he yanked his hands away from the door handle and once again wiped his face. Turning away from the home, he gave one last look around as he dragged himself out of hell. Unlike Knox, however, he waited at hell's edge-- watching and waiting for it to go up in smokes. And when it did, it was larger than any inferno he'd ever seen. And man, did it fucking stink.
Although Cain didn't exactly count down the seconds before he unleashed the massive firestorm, but felt as though the two men had left. He'd wandered into the middle of the camp, embers trailing behind him before he found a decent spot to ignite. With no presence of life, fire rushed off the ends of his blade as he danced with them, slashing through air as flames leapt from building to body and arrow to wolf.
His expression hardened as he kept focus on the flames, rapidly rising far above the tree-line. It would take hours or even days for them to die down to a manageable level on their own. Glancing at the burning bodies as he walked, he strolled nonchalantly over to the edges of the Maelstromclan and The Wilds to wait as the two boys vacated the territory.
Cain wiped the sweat off his face and watched through the brightly lit flames, listening to the silent screams of his old clansmen.
The buildings trembled and shifted as the wooden foundations gave way. Stone walls cracked under the immense heat and bones of the dead baked into dust.
Between the raging flames and tumbling rubble, a figure walked through the village. A ghostly, wispy shape of the man who'd once called this home. Apollo turned his head from one side to the next, watching the little houses crumble and the performing stages catch alight. He watched the dried wolf carcasses erupt into fire and with them, the arrows that felled them. Apollo's spirit was dressed in ornate armor, his hair long and silver and flowing over his broad shoulders. His eyes were full of both sadness and peace as they travelled across the way, and found Cain. Through the flames, he watched the man with an unwavering gaze.
With eyes matching intensity of the firestorm, Cain watched the ghostly figure come into view. It was just when the silent screams began to waver, acknowledging what they'd lost.
"Apollo..."
He muttered while the flames lowered slightly. The effect was hardly any change, however, as the massive inferno still rose far beyond the reaches of any man. It was rivaled only by the height of trees; the smoke rising up, and up, bringing the scent of the dead and the curse of the forsaken along with it.
Regardless of how the two left their relationship off in life, Cain lowered his head in respect. Personal feelings towards the man aside, he was there to honor the clan and those lost. The leader included.
The specter turned his head slightly away, but kept his eyes locked on Cain's in an inquisitive expression. Silently, he drew closer until they were but a few feet apart.
"Justice for our deaths isn't important, Libarto." Apollo said firmly, his signature soft voice wrapping around the two of them as though they were in a small, echoing room.
"We've found our place in the next chapter, though the earth will remain stained with our sorrows." The ghost began to walk around him, keeping his eyes locked. His armor was clinking like any armor would, and his hair flowed at the rippling of the flames around them, but he remained untouched.
"I'm proud of you, Cain." He said, a little smile curving the side of his mouth. "Proud of the way you care for your men. You're a force to be reckoned with." He nodded, impressed.
Goosebumps trailed the flamesman's body as he listened to the specter, yet continued to primarily focus on the inferno affront him. Nonetheless, the corners of his lips curved upwards, intensity in his heated gaze returning as his eyes met that of the ghost's.
"A compliment of high caliber,"
Although he was surprised of the ghost's knowledge, he assumed he'd heard of the flamesman's ways in life.
"Surprising to hear. Tempestclan fears my men, likely to assume we are the villains. Not an unusual title we receive, as you know."
He scoffed, the flames flickering with each choppy chuckle.
"Ties may be estranged, but the boys consider Maelstromclan family."
His smile vanished, his focus returning to that of flames.
Apollo's smile broadened at the mention of them all as family. Finally looking away, he watched as a nearby wall crashed to the earth before them.
"Your leader has returned to you, but not so much a leader now, is he?" He said softly. Without turning his head, Apollo's eyes darted to their corners and watched the man.
"I have only words for you, Libarto. Know this, that Akihito's heart remains where it was so many years ago- when, just as you chose him over me, he chose her over you. He will always choose her over you, all of you. No matter how earnestly he swears his loyalty. " There was a subtle wryness to the ghost's words as he turned away entirely.
"Perhaps your paths should unentwine. I have business with him that cannot involve you." Slowly, Apollo turned to look back and he met Cain's eyes again with a dark expression. All familial chivalry was gone. "And if you get in my way, I swear on the gods I will make sure your next life is worse than hell." And with that, the man disappeared.
