Beware Birds Of A Feather [M] {Sanctified!}

[HeartOfFlame]

Kanimir eyes the closet for a moment, gnawing the inside of his cheek, before he sighs and throws their bags into the farthest corner, moving forwards to lay down before he realises Keithia is frozen and barely even breathing. He takes a step back, glancing between her and the small room, before lifting a hand to touch her shoulder.

Her eyes are wide, breathing slow and deliberate, and the look on her face is - not quite fear but something close. Discomfort, unease. He leans to the side slightly, bringing his other hand up to brush her hair away from the side of her face and meet her gaze.

"Keithia." He doesn't use her name often, doesn't need to, not when it's just the two of them in the grand outdoors, but it rolls off his tongue easily enough. He chooses to think about that rather than the righteous anger curling in his gut. His voice is soft when he continues, lowered to tones he really wasn't sure he had, or knew how to use. "Would it help if there was light?"

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

She wasn't really aware of where she was anymore. Her world narrowed into that closet, into that tiny space. Into what that might meant and how it felt to be wrapped up and smothered. Disconnected and lost. Keithia held absolutely no illusions about her ability to escape. If anyone wanted to crate her, and keep her, they could.

They had.

A weight pressed on her chest and her heart beat drummed heavy and loud in her ears. She should run. Sleep outside. Go see the stars, remind herself that there was a sky...

Keithia.

Her inhumanly wide eyes blinked, slowly, before her attention shifted, almost reluctantly, to Kanimir. Right. He was there. His voice was so quiet, her heart has to calm so she can hear him. Would light help? She's not sure. Would seeing the confines of her cage make it any less a cage? One of her small hands lift to grip his wrist. Her pale hand is still cold, and though she's squeezing, it's likely nothing to him. "I... Can... the door... can we keep it open?" It's a struggle for her to talk. The words no more than a sigh as she keeps looking between him and the closet. The cage.

No, no. Not a cage. Kanimir wouldn't put her in a cage. Holding on to that thought, she moves into him. Releasing his wrist so she can press against his chest. It's easier, this way. It's not a cage, it's not a cage... It's a mantra she clings to as she simply leans against his chest, her face buried against him.

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

He nods, letting his free hand rest over her cold fingers. "Of course." He says, but the words are barely out of his mouth before she's turning into him, burying her face in his chest. He's struck speechless for a moment, his brain sputtering like a dying fire, before he slowly lifts his arms around her, one hand patting awkwardly on her shoulder, the other resting over her hair.

She's warm against him, small beneath his hands, and, god, how long has it been since he's felt the heat of another body? He relaxes slowly, tensed muscles releasing as he curls his spine slightly forwards and breathes in the scent of forest that clings to her like blood does to him. It's selfish, because he knows that she's hurting and afraid and reliving whatever horrors linger behind those kind eyes in the depths of her mind, but he relishes the contact. It's warm and shockingly familiar and loosens something hard and painful in his chest.

"I won't let anyone hurt you." He whispers, before he's even fully aware of it, and the part of his brain that isn't screaming in outrage at this lunacy confirms the words to be true, like gods laying down covenants, he will keep this promise. He doesn't know when she became so important to him, but she has, she's his as much as he can lay claim to a life, and he will protect her.

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Keithia isn't entirely aware of what he's doing while she's trying to calm herself. Selfishly relying on him, knowing that she had been unable to take care of herself before. It's wildly unfair, and she knows that, but it makes her feel markedly better. Knowing she can't fight, trusting him to for her.

Trust. Such a difficult thing for an immortal creature that's already been broken once.

A fine tremble works down her spine, however brief, before she lets out a long sigh. Her breath warm. Rather than move away, she just mumbles against him, "I know." Her small hands grip his shirt and it becomes quickly apparent she's not going to move away. The less she has to see of the closet, the better. It doesn't occur to her this might be wildly inconvenient.

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

He feels her tremble, feels something that might be his heart ache fiercely in response. It's uncomfortable and painful and something he really doesn't want to think about but cannot escape. Her voice is muffled, but the words still mean more than they should, hold more power than they ever have in the past. It's both chilling and heartening to know that she trusts him, something he has never had to worry about before because he's never had it before.

He sighs softly himself, aware of the fact her hands are fisted into his shirt and also how they're standing in the middle of a hallway and his legs ache. He hesitates for half a second before making up his mind. Firmly shutting out the angry voices in his head takes decidedly less effort than he expects, and he straightens slightly, turning them so his back is to the small room and slowly backing up. It's one of the more awkward things he's done, but far from the most awkward, and he huffs a vaguely bemused breath as he stops halfway into the small space and turns to the side.

It's a bit of a process, guiding them both down to the floor with Keithia stubbornly pressed into his chest, hiding her face from the world, but they manage, and after a bit of shuffling, he settles. He's using their new pelts as a pillow, coat draped awkwardly over both of them, and despite how strange it is, despite the fact Keithia is hiding from how cramped the space is, the memories it must bring up, it's also strangely peaceful. He rests an arm over her shoulders, holding her close, and settles his face into the soft furs.

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

No matter how obnoxious it might be to try and move her, with her clinging to him, it is infinitely easier for Keithia since she doesn't have to see how confined it is. It's bad enough she can feel it. How enclosed and oppressive it is. Mortal building are already stuffy... This is nigh overwhelming, almost too much. Keithia latches on to the smell that is decidedly Kanimir, focusing on that, trying to shut out the rest of it.

She can do it for one night.

Once he gets them both in the closet not a cage, she curls up against him. Her eyes have remained closed the entire time, and it's a fair bit longer before her breathing evens out in what could be considered fitful sleep.

~

It became easier and easier to track someone when they weren't hiding. Especially when they left a trail of bodies to follow. What had started out as a curiosity had turned into a real hunt. Magic users who couldn't control themselves, who killed without thought, were some of the worst.

He became a priority.

The randomness of it had made it difficult. The lack of evidence left over doubly so. If anything, it only made Yukina more determined then over to collar the monster. No one had ever gotten away from her, and he would be no exception.

Before they'd been able to spring a trap in Uthlyn, though, he'd moved on. Left them scrambling to find a trail and come up with a different plan. Such a thing didn't dissuade the Blessed, and they were off on the hunt once more. It was harder to track someone across the country side then in a stationary place.

Weather, invariably favored them, and eventually forced their quarry into stopping where they might be able to catch them. It wasn't until one of the scouts confirmed they'd found him that Yukina called for them to move. It didn't matter there was biting wind and heavy snow beginning to fall.

They had a murderous mage to catch.

It was rather late into the night when Yukina and her three honor guard arrived. They would likely die in the encounter, and they understood that. Provoking a mage to use their magic was their job. The three of them were dressed identically in fur and armor. Protected from anything except a magical attack. Highly skilled with the swords they carried. Those who knew of the Blessed were frequently hesitant to use their magic and required convincing to do so. The cold wind caught the door and threw it open, causing the maid who tended the bar inside to jump with a start. Before she could say anything, the Blessed gestured and one of the honored guard moved forward. "Time for you to leave."

It was in her best interest. The maid was in no position to fight them, but she still protested being tossed out into the cold.

The Blessed remained in the main room, her short swords sheathed at her hips and her white wings slightly fanned out, before she gave another sharp gesture. At that, the honor guard pushed they way into the building. One to block the stairs, two more to make their way to the back. The scout had said he was on the main floor.

Yukina walked slowly behind them, her foot steps quiet to the heavy falls of her guards.

Honor Guard

^{arts : Knight by Soft-h}

[HeartOfFlame]

Kanimir isn't sure what wakes him, be it the flashing images behind his eyes, or something external. He jerks into wakefulness, taking a moment to orientate himself, glancing down at the body still pressed firmly against his. It's warm under his coat, heat from the kitchens seeping through the wall, and he lays still for a long moment, frowning into the darkness.

Footsteps, heavy and purposeful, reach his ears. He stiffens slightly, levering himself into an upright position and peeling Keithia's hands from his shirt. Armour clanks somewhere through the wall, low voices muffled through the stone. Heat floods through his veins, his lips tugging upwards, and he pushes himself to his feet in a single, smooth movement. His senses are tingling, suddenly alive, and though he hasn't seen who those footsteps belong to, he knows. It has been less than two hours since they lay down, and the only reason for heavily armoured beings to storm a tavern in the dead of night, is a hunt.

He's been aware of someone tracking them for a few days now, something constantly nagging at the edge of his senses. He's almost surprised they're so determined, the pieces fitting together as his suspicions regarding the trapper come to bare. They're well organised and determined, and maybe that should frighten him, make him wary at least, but it doesn't. Because, no matter how good they might be, no matter how many informants and spies they have, they still won't stand a chance.

Sparks flicker into being in his hand, the rush of molten fire through his veins exhilarating and freeing all in one breath. He glances back at Keithia, resting underneath his coat, lost to the world, and mutters a soft apology before stepping out of the small storage room.

This won't take long.

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Their gauntlets rest on their sheathed longswords while they walked into the kitchens. It was dark, lit only by the glow of the stove fires that flickered off their heavy full plate. They weren't trying to be stealthy. There was no reason for that.

Yukina tailed them into the back room. Her brilliant white wings flexed behind her so she could walk through the door, but otherwise remained flared. A Blessed wasn't going to hide either. Her armor was significantly less than the men before her. Delicate plate across her chest so as not to hinder her wings and leather breeches since she liked to move when she fought. Still, her hands lingered close to her swords but not resting on the hilt. Red-violet eyes scarred the small interior, and caught the door opening to the small, hide-away before her guards did.

Not that they were slow on the uptake either.

The hiss of steel being drawn woke Keithia. Not because it was familiar, but it was so out of place and wrong. Icy dread shot down her spine when she realized she was alone. In the box. Reflexively, Keithia scrambled until her back hit one of the walls and she drew her legs up. Cowering in the corner as her breath came quick and rapid. Panic washed over her and all logic fled. Landing her right back to the holding cells of when she'd first been trapped.

She just needed to be small and quiet...

[HeartOfFlame]

He slips across the hallway silently, footsteps ghostly silent on the wooden floor. He takes a few steps forwards from the storage room, placing himself as a barricade before it. He has little doubt this will be over and done in a matter of moments, but he is not about to take chances. Keithia trusts him, has put her faith in him to keep her safe, and he has every fullest intention to follow through.

Heavy armour footsteps grow closer, and he plants one hand on his hip, sparks and fractal flames dancing between his fingers as he waits for these fools to round the corner and enter his line of sight.

They're not quite was he's expecting, one brow lifting and a quiet breath escaping him as they come into view and he gives them a brief once over in the flickering light of his magic. Three heavily armoured soldiers, their steel plating padded with fur, come first, swords in hand. They're plain, boring, faces hidden by full helms. Behind them, though, is an oddity. Kanimir has seen a lot of things in his travels, killed more, but this one is new. She has wings, for a starter, dressed in lighter armour and leather.

He rocks back and forth on his heels, a light smile pulls at his lips as his eyes narrow, gauging her. She has an air of importance around her, a quiet strength, and his teeth grit slightly in the back of his mouth.

"All this for me?" He purrs, running his tongue over pointed teeth while spiralling sparks dance and flare around his knuckles, "I'm flattered, really. I'd offer you my signature, but, well," He grins, snapping his fingers together and watching one of the soldiers jump, "I doubt you'd want to keep it."

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

The Honored Guards didn't say anything when they finally saw him. It wasn't their place  and the occasion was too somber, too important. Rather, they drew their swords and advanced. They'd force his hand, one way or another, or they'd cut him down. Either way, the mage was going to be dealt with now that they'd found him.

Yukina's wings glistened with melting snow while she regarded him. The murderer they'd been hunting this whole time. It delighted her that he seemed eager to fight, and even more so to use his taint. The sooner he brought it to bear against her, the sooner they could begin his training. To keep up appearances, Yukina drew one of her swords and continued her advance forward. Tailing her Guards, but giving them space should an actual fight break out. Her red-violet eyes never left him, though. The Blessed would know, as soon as that power was directed at her, and she'd snatch at the reigns that would bind him to her and make him obey.

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

They advance without a word, and Kanimir sighs dramatically, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Not the talkative type, eh? Shame, I was curious what your last words would be."

He grins, a savage expression that syncs with his boot skidding back on the wooden floor. His left hand reaches for his Chakram  and his eyes flash a brilliant gold, all within a single breath, before his fingers snap once again and the air grows tight. Sparks fill the air, a crushing, suffocating heat bursting forth from him, and the three soldiers drop their weapons and writhe. In the blink of an eye, veins of red and splintering gold spread across their armour, stretching outwards in ever reaching fingers, and in the next moment, they're gone.

Drifting ashes of crimson and black hang in the air, suspended by the sudden thickness that fills the air, and behind them, Kanimir's eyes burn, not with magic, but exhilaration. His blood sings, the release of pent up energy like a ice cold bath in the desert, and he draws the two halves of his Chakram across his chest with an expression that is more feral than the wildest of wolves.

"You," he says, voice somewhere between a growl and a whisper, "Will you provide more of a challenge?"

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

She was no more impressed with the display of destruction than if he'd spit on the floor in front of her. Yukina had been to the realm of a God and blessed with the Divine. Nothing anything mortal and mundane could impress her. Rather, her wings flared a little and her lips tugged in a line of distaste, but she no more mourned the loss of the Honor Guard then she would concern herself with their ashes. Everyone knew they would likely die, especially since they all had seen the remains if this filth's victims.

Yukina was there to put a stop to it.

She rolled her shoulder, sword feather light and ready in her hand, before she made her way forward. Through the ashes of her Guard and toward her intended target. Wordless and inevitable, just like his capture was. Of that, she was certain.

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

Still, she refuses to speak, to show fear, and he will not deny that irks him. His teeth grit together in a growl, nostrils flaring as he breaths, feels the burning heat in his core, and pushes forwards. He's as in tune with his blades as the power flowing through his veins, and his movements are as effortless as the laughably simple act of snapping his fingers. He looses himself to the ebb and flow of the battle, the clash of steel against steel like music to his ears. He sees his opponent's eyes flash, the white of her wings flared in his peripheral, and he smiles as he dances around her, light and effortless on his feet, moving with an inhuman grace that is both enchanting and toxic.

He skids back a few feet, blades criss-crossed before his chest, and takes a step back himself, panting and grinning a toothy grin. It's hard to tell if he's ruffled her or not, her face remains impassive, but there is an unfamiliar burn through his body he hasn't felt in years, and he bows a little in a patronisingly grateful manner. He has enjoyed himself, that he will not deny, but this confrontation has drawn out too long, and he has little doubt Keithia has been awaked by the racket of their clash.

"You're surprisingly sturdy."He chuckles, snapping his Chakram back together and lifting a hand that acts as stage to the dancing, twirling embers of his power, "But this play has gone on long enough."

His fingers snap together with a harsh crack that is both muted and deafening in the same instance, his eyes flashing like molten steel as invisible arcs of splintering destruction race towards her. Something feels different, off, but he is too caught in the heat of the moment to bare it much mind. A mistake.

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Yukina had hoped he would simply unleash his magic on her, as he had her guard, but he advanced wih his weapons. A real fight it was, then. A test of physical skill before he would be pressed to unleash his taint in her direction. For that, Yukina drew her other blade.

The blue-steel with weighted light and moved as an extension of her. She was made for quick fights, slashing sweeps, and used her wings to give her additional movement. As angelic as he was not, they were nigh equal when it came to weapon-play. Were that it, if that was the way she must best him, Yukina would've lost.

When he withdrew to further taunt her, bowing in mockery, she held her blades low but at the ready. Her breathing was quick, but steady. There was no humor in the Blessed. She'd danced amongst the ashes of good men to see this murderer collared, and she wouldn't leave until it happened. Before she could advance, and press another attack, he brought up his hand. That same flickering, lightning like magic appeared.

She hesitated. Looking for all the world like she might be concerned because that had made her pause, when nothing thus far had. However, Yukina didn't need to advance if he was going to finally play his hand.

When the magic cracked across the space, Yukina could feel it. Electricity in the air, an almost tangible thing that she could take, that she could make her own. Yukina was no fledgling Blessed. She'd caught mages before, knew how to take someone's magic quick, and how to bring them down with it in the same breath.

She should've burned like her Honor Guard, but it wasn't the Blessed that felt any pain. Instead, it was Kanimir's nerves that burned as though he were hit with his own spell. Not that he was actually being harmed, of course, but Yukina wanted him to feel what he'd done to her men. Punish him, immediately. Now that he was caught, she sheathed her blades and approached. "About time."

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

Fire. Burning and melting, searing across his skin like a thousand blades of glass. He can't think, can't breathe, can't move. The exhilaration and satisfaction from only moments before it forgotten, lost in the flames, the agony, that spreads over him like a blanket. His weapons fall from suddenly numb hands, clattering on the floor, echoing in his ears as he struggles to breath, to draw air into paralysed lungs. It fells an eternity, but cannot have been more than a moment, a split second.

His knees buckle, but he is unaware of hitting the floor, can't feel his fingernails digging through his skin as he pulls his hands to his chest, eyes wide and panicked and reflecting only pain. He draws a breath that scorches through his throat and explodes inside his lungs, and the air remains only a second before he is screaming. His vision whites out, sparks of red and gold dancing behind his eyes like a taunting reminder of his power, suddenly ripped from him. His veins burn, the glowing feeling of almost god-like power swept aside in a tide of pain, pain pain.

His screams peter off as he runs out of air, rasping, choking breaths following in their place as he realises he is on the floor, curled into himself, fingernails chipped and bleeding where they dig into the splintered wood beneath him. He can make out the woman's boots through hazy vision, beyond her, the open door. His eyes widen, body shaking as he tries to pull himself forwards, up, moving.

"Keithia," He rasps, choking on the blood in his mouth from where he has bitten his own tongue, "run..."

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Yukina savored his scream. A tribute to the men she'd lost this night. The Blessed stood, just out of arm's reach and watched her new pet on the floor. Letting him wallow in the wretched eternity that mind numbing pain inflicted. It could last as long as she wanted it to, and she could end it with a thought.

She appreciated that he tried to move, and let him struggle. It was important he know the futility of what he did, for him to know there was no getting away. But before she could say as much, before the lesson could begin, he said something.

Yukina frowned, then looked in the direction he was. She had assumed he was looking for escape, but that didn't seem to be the case. "Stay." An order that he would be unable to break and, should he attempt to try, would only result in pain until he passed out.

The Blessed drew one of her swords as she progressed further into the establishment. She had assumed whomever he'd been traveling with wouldn't be in the same, small space as him. Perhaps that had been the wrong assumption. She came to stand in the doorway and would have completely missed Keithia huddled in the corner if flickering light from the kitchen hadn't caught on one of her horns.

What was known about his traveling companion was very little, so Yukina was cautious. "Come out."

Keithia wasn't even aware anything had happened. She trembled in the dark, lost in horrid memories, and clung to her legs throughout the brief interaction. When Yukina arrived, she no more acknowledged the woman or knew she was there then before. Not until Yukina went into the room and pulled her out by her arm. Then she whimpered in fear.

Sensing that the creature she had pulled from the closet wasn't necessarily a danger, Yukina didn't do anything more than pull her from the room and toward her pet. For now.

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

The woman moves away, her boots clipping a steady pace on the floor. He hears her voice, but the words are unintelligible. She's moving in the direction of Keithia, though, and he growls somewhere low in his throat, past the pain, past the inability to breathe without choking. He gets his arms under him, swaying vision finding his abandoned weapons, and he reaches for them with trembling fingers before the fire sweeps over him again and he looses time like one might misplace a favoured quill.

For how long, he doesn't know, there is nothing but the flames. His skin burns and he can almost smell the sickening stench of his own charred flesh, something hot and acidic rolling in his gut as he struggles for purchase, almost face down once more. A soft sound reaches him, impossibly small, but like a thunderclap in his ears. Keithia. He growls again, though it comes out more a groan, and tries to reach for her, vision impossibly blurred and distorting into cracked, crystalline colours.

He can't even find the strength to say her name, bloodied lips parting to release only strangled air. His bones ache, a deep, all-pervading burn and throb, but still he struggles, fighting with everything he has left in him, even as those efforts become weaker by the second. His vision blurry, distorting and warping more with every breath, but still he tries.

"Release her," He grinds out, glaring blindly in the direction of Keithia's whimper, "It's me you want. Let her go."

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Well, well. Yukina's grip on Keithia's small, pale arm is bruising, but not intentionally cruel. Rather, her attention is on her new pet. Impressed by his determination. Not on his own behalf, but rather, for the creature she's holding. Keithia.

Yukina is fully aware that people can endure far more for another's sake then their own. With that thought in mind, she shoves the odd little girl at her new pet, so she stumbles and falls close to him. With a thought, the pain recedes, and she crosses her arms. Stance relaxed, for the moment. "Rule number one, pet. When you address me, it will be as Blessed. If you do not, you will suffer until you beg for forgiveness, and I have forgiven you." Then, to see if he point is driven home, she asks, "Do you understand?" For the moment, her attention is strictly on Kanimir.

Once Keithia is nearly thrown, she scrambles to Kanimir's side and immediately looks him over. Searching for a wound... something. Anything she might do to help him. She's still trembling, but she's been broken out of the 'shock' of waking up alone, and in the dark. Reverting into a more subservient state, she doesn't even look in the direction of the winged woman. Instead, she whispers soft and desperate, "Are you ok?"

@HeartOfFlame

[HeartOfFlame]

Keithia falls on her knees next to him and in the same moment the burning fades, if only a little. He draws a gasping breath and proceeds to choke on it, coughing and spluttering as his lungs remember how air works. He rolls onto his side, seeking out her hand, grasping it in his bloodied, trembling ones. His vision is still wonky, blurry and dark around the edges, but he manages to find her eyes, wide and worried and confused. He reassures himself that she is unharmed, physically at least, and turns his gaze on the winged woman.

There is hatred in his eyes, burning and flaring with every greedy inhale. He shuffles his body almost upright, legs bent underneath him, and rocks his head back, defiance and pride in every line of his body even as he pushes Keithia slightly behind him and grasps her hand like a lifeline, for whom, he's not sure. His lips press firmly together, pale and thin, while his nostrils flare with the continued effort of breathing. He says nothing, but there is no need for words when his body language so clearly conveys his message.

He will not be subservient. Not to her, not to any man or God. He never has been, and he does not intent to start now, no matter what power she holds that she can deflect his magic, his power.

@SanctifiedSavage

[SanctifiedSavage]

Unsurprised, he is allowed a breath of defiance before the pain returns. It burns across his skin and sears its way down his spine. Only progressing into black oblivion should he decide not to beg for forgiveness.

When a pet is first caught, this usually takes some time.

While he goes through his fit, Yukina turns her attention to her unexpected 'plus one'. "He wasn't wrong. I am only here for him. As far as I know, you are neither a caster of magic nor a murderer. You are free to go." While it was obvious he had a connection to the oddly antlered girl, Yukina saw no reason no further involve her.

Except...

"No. I'll stay..."

It was softly spoken, and the girl didn't look at her, but there was no stammering. Neither did she move. Rather then offer a second chance, Yukina simply nodded before she said, "Then you won't be any trouble and do as you are told." It was what any Blessed expected of any recruit or attendant in the camp. Depending on how long her new pet wanted to be obstinate, she would have to drag him through the snow and to her horse. Having another body didn't make that any harder.

"Yes, Blessed."

At least the girl was a quick study.