The only fate I have is the one I make
The Crypt King's cold halls echo with betrayal.
He sees it now - all of it; the roads and crossings and turn backs that had brought him to this ending. The signs he had ignored, the ones that had been hidden from him, and the ones he had misinterpreted as a result.
And at the heart of it all, Cressida's mocking smile burned bright.
Morgan has the youngest general by the neck by the time the king reaches his counsel room - a windowless cellar in the space between Cressida's lair and the deepest reaches of his underground chambers. He stands unresisting in his first general's grip though Benedict does not for one moment trust his placidity. He smiles for his king as if it is just another day and that galls him more than any words Cressida could ever have uttered, the room plunging into seething shadow despite the raised braziers that house his favored blue flames, eyes a biting silver and expression stoney - all of this only bringing a broader smile to Cressida's lips.
"Benedict, I have always chosen you."
Five words, softly delivered and swaddled in honesty. It is not enough to stay the Crypt King's hand, but it keeps him from making it a killing blow. The strike still rips the youngest of them from Morgan's grip and sends him sprawling on his belly with a bone crushing thud, the ringing jangle of the chains which still adorn his horns sounding out over even that. His hair hides the gouges that Morgan's slipping fingers have carved into the sides of his neck like gills though his silver tresses quickly tinge pink as he lays still and breathless at Morgan's feet. The first general doesn't bother to pick the skin and blood which had lodged beneath his nails as he drops his now empty hand to his side, instead turning his pitch colored eyes from Cressida's back to Benedict's face in question, his contained fury ringing the black irises in vivid crimson.
Shall I end him? is what his gaze asks, to which Benedict only shakes his head once, his mouth a set line.
"I never once gave you permission to play with any lives but your own." Benedict returns to the back of the fallen demon's silver head just as softly, but his words are edged with the burning fury that still lights his molten mercury eyes, foxfire licking almost inquisitively at his finger tips as if in wonder of what they would be set to burning next.
Cressida chokes as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, dazed and bloodied but still defiant.
"You gave me permission when you marked me as yours. You would have had my throat otherwise - should have had the night you danced with me and knew me for all that I was, if this was not the end you anticipated."
"You abhorrent, scheming, ungrateful whelp, how DARE you even suggest that any of this is anyone's doing but YOUR OWN!" Morgan all but shrieked, booted foot grinding into the fallen demon's spine as his black eyes are consumed by red.
He is surprised when Cressida rises anyway, shrugging him off with no more than a grunt of effort. His lip is split, white teeth rimmed in the same red which has claimed Morgan's eyes for its own. He spits and drags the back of a pale hand across his mouth as Benedict stalks past them both to stand deeper within the chamber, Morgan realizing only then that Cressida has been forgiven. Disbelief washes all other emotion from his mind as the golden eyed demon cocks his head back to smile up at him. They are not so different in height for such a thing to be necessary, but that he presents the long curve of his bleeding throat knowing he needs not fear any hand coming near it again despite Morgan's desires only sets his anger to burning anew.
"Oh, I do not deny that I have played the greater part in all of this but I do not presume to take all the credit." he scoffs, amused. "This has always been our end, the day I bent my head to Benedict rather than to Samael, it was decided. I have simply worked to cut away a handful of centuries to bring us here. As you have time and again complained - I am not a creature given to patience."
"Samael?" Morgan asks, surprised out of his ire. What did the dragon of the Eitherealms have to do in any of this? And then his heart gives a lurch and he could have brought the ceiling down with the force of his anger and his shame. He should have known; he should have realized long before it came to this, how could he have been so blind? Benedict has much the same look about him as he presses his palms to his thighs to quiet the fire which burns in his veins, but there is also a grudging pride as he meets Morgan's.
Cressida had played them all - Samael included - like fools and regardless of whether they survived this or not the ultimate victory would forever be his.
It was intolerable.
"Abbadon, that accursed fool, I will have his blood." Morgan snarls, and he will make the traitor pay tenfold for this, half turned as if he meant to storm from the room and find him that instant.
Benedict raises a hand however and he stills, but before he can demand a reason, Cressida is speaking.
"Ko."
Morgan's eyes widen, and then narrow when Cressida's own shadow rises up at what he belatedly realizes to be a name, to take on a familiar shape. It is meaningless now to have what he had suspected all along so thoroughly confirmed in the curling red mark which blazes garishly on the harbinger's black skin but he understands better how the golden eyed demon had managed all that he had.
// What else would a nightmare answer to if not a monster? // Ko inquired softly of Morgan's unspoken accusations, Cressida snorting.
"Find the traitors. Confound their followers. Bring your shadows. I'll be along shortly."
Ko bent until their foreheads met, and then sank back into darkness, returning Cressida's shadow to nothing more than a faint shape on the stone floor. He turns then to Benedict and his manner is that of a warrior about to step onto the field of war.
"Where is Thanatos?"
"Safe." is all Benedict will say, Cressida nodding before turning to Morgan and the demon straightens - and immediately loathes himself for responding to the younger general as he would an equal.
As he would his king.
Cressida smiles widely enough to split his lip anew, pale thumb touching to the fresh flow of blood before he reaches and drags the same thumb across the bottom of Morgan's own lip.
"I think you will find me most agreeable after this game is ended."
"I doubt it." Morgan answers softly though he drags his tongue across the pad of Cressida's lingering finger in acceptance regardless, noting idly that his blood tastes of cinnamon and secrets.
The silver haired demon laughs and digs his thumbnail into the tender flesh of Morgan's tongue to complete the exchange before sweeping from the room without so much as a glance back, Benedict moving to stand in the space beside Morgan as though he had been there the whole time.
"Oroborus is elbows deep in this, I taste his fingerprints in Cressida's blood. It is rare for him to be so thoroughly outplayed." Morgan finally sighs, Benedict only shrugging.
"As were we all. He will answer to me in due time for his part. You and I have bridges to burn until then."
Morgan smiles, and follows his king out to meet the gathering storm.
He sees it now - all of it; the roads and crossings and turn backs that had brought him to this ending. The signs he had ignored, the ones that had been hidden from him, and the ones he had misinterpreted as a result.
And at the heart of it all, Cressida's mocking smile burned bright.
Morgan has the youngest general by the neck by the time the king reaches his counsel room - a windowless cellar in the space between Cressida's lair and the deepest reaches of his underground chambers. He stands unresisting in his first general's grip though Benedict does not for one moment trust his placidity. He smiles for his king as if it is just another day and that galls him more than any words Cressida could ever have uttered, the room plunging into seething shadow despite the raised braziers that house his favored blue flames, eyes a biting silver and expression stoney - all of this only bringing a broader smile to Cressida's lips.
"Benedict, I have always chosen you."
Five words, softly delivered and swaddled in honesty. It is not enough to stay the Crypt King's hand, but it keeps him from making it a killing blow. The strike still rips the youngest of them from Morgan's grip and sends him sprawling on his belly with a bone crushing thud, the ringing jangle of the chains which still adorn his horns sounding out over even that. His hair hides the gouges that Morgan's slipping fingers have carved into the sides of his neck like gills though his silver tresses quickly tinge pink as he lays still and breathless at Morgan's feet. The first general doesn't bother to pick the skin and blood which had lodged beneath his nails as he drops his now empty hand to his side, instead turning his pitch colored eyes from Cressida's back to Benedict's face in question, his contained fury ringing the black irises in vivid crimson.
Shall I end him? is what his gaze asks, to which Benedict only shakes his head once, his mouth a set line.
"I never once gave you permission to play with any lives but your own." Benedict returns to the back of the fallen demon's silver head just as softly, but his words are edged with the burning fury that still lights his molten mercury eyes, foxfire licking almost inquisitively at his finger tips as if in wonder of what they would be set to burning next.
Cressida chokes as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, dazed and bloodied but still defiant.
"You gave me permission when you marked me as yours. You would have had my throat otherwise - should have had the night you danced with me and knew me for all that I was, if this was not the end you anticipated."
"You abhorrent, scheming, ungrateful whelp, how DARE you even suggest that any of this is anyone's doing but YOUR OWN!" Morgan all but shrieked, booted foot grinding into the fallen demon's spine as his black eyes are consumed by red.
He is surprised when Cressida rises anyway, shrugging him off with no more than a grunt of effort. His lip is split, white teeth rimmed in the same red which has claimed Morgan's eyes for its own. He spits and drags the back of a pale hand across his mouth as Benedict stalks past them both to stand deeper within the chamber, Morgan realizing only then that Cressida has been forgiven. Disbelief washes all other emotion from his mind as the golden eyed demon cocks his head back to smile up at him. They are not so different in height for such a thing to be necessary, but that he presents the long curve of his bleeding throat knowing he needs not fear any hand coming near it again despite Morgan's desires only sets his anger to burning anew.
"Oh, I do not deny that I have played the greater part in all of this but I do not presume to take all the credit." he scoffs, amused. "This has always been our end, the day I bent my head to Benedict rather than to Samael, it was decided. I have simply worked to cut away a handful of centuries to bring us here. As you have time and again complained - I am not a creature given to patience."
"Samael?" Morgan asks, surprised out of his ire. What did the dragon of the Eitherealms have to do in any of this? And then his heart gives a lurch and he could have brought the ceiling down with the force of his anger and his shame. He should have known; he should have realized long before it came to this, how could he have been so blind? Benedict has much the same look about him as he presses his palms to his thighs to quiet the fire which burns in his veins, but there is also a grudging pride as he meets Morgan's.
Cressida had played them all - Samael included - like fools and regardless of whether they survived this or not the ultimate victory would forever be his.
It was intolerable.
"Abbadon, that accursed fool, I will have his blood." Morgan snarls, and he will make the traitor pay tenfold for this, half turned as if he meant to storm from the room and find him that instant.
Benedict raises a hand however and he stills, but before he can demand a reason, Cressida is speaking.
"Ko."
Morgan's eyes widen, and then narrow when Cressida's own shadow rises up at what he belatedly realizes to be a name, to take on a familiar shape. It is meaningless now to have what he had suspected all along so thoroughly confirmed in the curling red mark which blazes garishly on the harbinger's black skin but he understands better how the golden eyed demon had managed all that he had.
// What else would a nightmare answer to if not a monster? // Ko inquired softly of Morgan's unspoken accusations, Cressida snorting.
"Find the traitors. Confound their followers. Bring your shadows. I'll be along shortly."
Ko bent until their foreheads met, and then sank back into darkness, returning Cressida's shadow to nothing more than a faint shape on the stone floor. He turns then to Benedict and his manner is that of a warrior about to step onto the field of war.
"Where is Thanatos?"
"Safe." is all Benedict will say, Cressida nodding before turning to Morgan and the demon straightens - and immediately loathes himself for responding to the younger general as he would an equal.
As he would his king.
Cressida smiles widely enough to split his lip anew, pale thumb touching to the fresh flow of blood before he reaches and drags the same thumb across the bottom of Morgan's own lip.
"I think you will find me most agreeable after this game is ended."
"I doubt it." Morgan answers softly though he drags his tongue across the pad of Cressida's lingering finger in acceptance regardless, noting idly that his blood tastes of cinnamon and secrets.
The silver haired demon laughs and digs his thumbnail into the tender flesh of Morgan's tongue to complete the exchange before sweeping from the room without so much as a glance back, Benedict moving to stand in the space beside Morgan as though he had been there the whole time.
"Oroborus is elbows deep in this, I taste his fingerprints in Cressida's blood. It is rare for him to be so thoroughly outplayed." Morgan finally sighs, Benedict only shrugging.
"As were we all. He will answer to me in due time for his part. You and I have bridges to burn until then."
Morgan smiles, and follows his king out to meet the gathering storm.