If Caius processed the momentary glance Alucard pressed in his direction while his panicked self begged powers greater than himself for their superior form of assistance—all of them Ancestors, as far as he was certain—he didn't make it visible, far too focused on getting the pair of them the fuck out of the cavern and as far away as possible from the ice creatures that were bent on destroying their warm flesh. The Lord Arbiter had seen enough monsters, and yet it seemed that all of Idalos was simply full of more.
Bogs, he knew nothing.
Whatever the case, the wall complied with his fervent wishes and began to move once he placed his hand in the strangely appropriately shaped space,
"Ah, thank you, Peacefather. Thank the Fates, too." The northern noble exhaled his gratitude out loud to whoever had been listening, which had, as far as he could tell, been everyone. But, damn, if the movement of the wall wasn't slow. He turned to glance at the strange monsters that they'd managed to sneak by, only to be horrified by their convergence. His own shocked swears were drowned out by the First Ranger's, the other man herding them angrily into the space created with agonizing slowness in the wall. They scrambled their escape, Caius far too focused on maintaining his footing to notice right away Alucard's injury—
And then they weren't fleeing.
Had he taken another terrified step, he would have walked himself right into the dagger Darcyanna held, ready to strike at the ice they'd been spat out of, aimed as it was level with his still-beating heart,
"Hey, wife." Caius managed, pale eyes wide and breath ragged with fear, a trill or two of momentary shock slowly seeping away into relief at the realization that all of them were still very much alive.
For the moment.
He reached carefully to brush the delicate pianist's dagger-wielding hand aside before embracing her tightly, setting aside for a handful of furious heartbeats the fear that threatened to consume him, that had pursued them, that continued to crawl in the molten halls of his veins. He held tightly the woman he loved more than he knew should have, feeling the unexpected hard press of leather armor and forgetful of his torn clothes and the scar-like spread of what looked like ice spreading strangely from over his heart where her dagger had once almost been. Still aware under the surface of the warm rush of relief of his promised ending, he savored the few extra precious moments granted him.
Caius pressed too-warm lips to platinum hair and pale skin with a sigh, eyes fluttering heavily with a few tears before he leaned away, bare hands still curled into Darcyanna's coat, resisting any inappropriate expressions of his gratefulness for their continued mutual existence, wanting to say something particularly poignant and thankful, only to just grin stupidly in her presence and kiss her shamelessly,
"I'm fucking glad to see you. To see we all live."
Shifting to tangle her weaponless hand with his and peer at Maebella and Alucard in time to catch most of whatever explanation was happening, he desperately attempted to conquer the terror and worry that gnawed at his very bones. His free hand strayed to his chest in idle curiosity, bared as it was by torn fabric from all of their struggle to make it into the Heart Chamber in one piece, as if he half-expected to feel cold, smooth ice where the strange mark was, as if he expected to feel it spreading and consuming him.
The First Ranger gave him no time to really attempt to think about what was happening, handing him a scroll instead, a scroll that allowed the user to cut through ice as if with fire. He wondered for a moment if it was meant for his heart once it froze, as he feared it eventually would here, promises still whispering in the darkest recesses of his now very confused thoughts.
Did he want to see the map? A little. Did he understand the scrolls? Barely. Was he sure he didn't want to see the ice monster again? Definitely.
He had no voice left with which to argue or speak up, attempting to process their adventure thus far without the comfort of his print room, even if for a brief moment they stood in what appeared to be a library. How he longed to touch things, to open the books and see what was written in them, or, if nothing else, to take a few. The young Gawyne even glanced at Maebella as if to wonder why her arms weren't full of the treasures here. Perhaps there was a danger to such a thing?
"What are the books here? This is a library? I read that the source of true knowledge is here, somewhere, or somehow, which could be fucking folklore for all I know, given how insane this place is instead. Did you look in any books? All that's useful are these scrolls and the map?" Caius was afraid to leave something unturned, somewhere in the back of his mind longing to find answers to a fate he felt he couldn't escape from. Was there a way to change what he'd been so sure of for as long as he could remember?
His eyes took in the room and the two women before landing on Alucard, who, once again, seemed eager to move. He noticed then, for the first time, that the other man was bleeding, and yet it seemed as though the First Ranger cared little, "Does that journal say something different from the first one? Does it describe those things back there? Or this room? Or, well, what's happening to me?"
Bogs if he didn't want more answers, still confused and ignorant to the gift he'd been given, even more so ignorant of the Giver.
It was with reluctance that the northern noble followed once they moved on, finding any distraction welcome lest he dwell on all the things he did not at all understand. Their next trek was hardly as dangerous, but the wall they found themselves blocked by was just another frustration in a long line of terror and unexplainable complications.
This place was maddening.
And yet, so long as he was breathing, Caius was desperate to find a way to find some place of calm, clearheaded thinking. It was fucking hard.
At the mention of climbing, the young Gawyne squinted upward, aware that he was the only one with any climbing gear attached to his boots. Without Alucard's axe, even with the various scrolls and the strange powers they granted, Caius couldn't think of a safe, swift way of making use of them in a vertical motion. All of his thoughts unraveled should one of them fall, taking the rest of the group with them. Even at the top, they'd still have to scale to the other side, potentially.
The northern noble hesitated, however, biting his lip before speaking up, aware of how his ideas had been received previously and where it had gotten him, gotten all of them. His irises paled, clearing his throat and restless, gloveless fingers toying with frayed edges of once-fine fabric without thinking,
"Through could work, I suppose. I mean, what sarding choice do we have? I don't see climbing as a good idea for any of us without the right gear, and even if we made it to the top of that, then what? Does the map say what's on the other side?" For fuck's sake, was he actually agreeing with the other man? Caius smirked, staring at Alucard with a moment of mischievous amusement rising above the fear that kept his heart shoved heatedly against the back of his throat,
"That scroll," He looked to Maebella, needfully, wanting more to work with, "does it let your whole body become ghostlike? Maybe someone should scout ahead and see how far we have to carve through."
Maybe.
Caius groaned, narrow shoulders slumping, curling one hand into the unkempt mess of his hair, "But if it's a support to the roof, then carving into it definitely risks collapse. Without knowing what we're walking into, or how far we have to go ... eh, fuck." His brother, Hunter, was the mathematician and architect. Or had been. The younger Gawyne was an arts student, a religion student, far more esoteric and abstract. Still, he thought of type in a chase in the print room, how delicate a balance it was to keep small pieces of metal type held precariously within the chase by tension and gravity,
"Closest to the edge is far safer than the middle, I'd say. Let's fucking go for it. It's better than standing here." Or, at least he hoped it was. Standing here alive was far better than reaching his promised final destination too soon.
Bogs, he knew nothing.
Whatever the case, the wall complied with his fervent wishes and began to move once he placed his hand in the strangely appropriately shaped space,
"Ah, thank you, Peacefather. Thank the Fates, too." The northern noble exhaled his gratitude out loud to whoever had been listening, which had, as far as he could tell, been everyone. But, damn, if the movement of the wall wasn't slow. He turned to glance at the strange monsters that they'd managed to sneak by, only to be horrified by their convergence. His own shocked swears were drowned out by the First Ranger's, the other man herding them angrily into the space created with agonizing slowness in the wall. They scrambled their escape, Caius far too focused on maintaining his footing to notice right away Alucard's injury—
And then they weren't fleeing.
Had he taken another terrified step, he would have walked himself right into the dagger Darcyanna held, ready to strike at the ice they'd been spat out of, aimed as it was level with his still-beating heart,
"Hey, wife." Caius managed, pale eyes wide and breath ragged with fear, a trill or two of momentary shock slowly seeping away into relief at the realization that all of them were still very much alive.
For the moment.
He reached carefully to brush the delicate pianist's dagger-wielding hand aside before embracing her tightly, setting aside for a handful of furious heartbeats the fear that threatened to consume him, that had pursued them, that continued to crawl in the molten halls of his veins. He held tightly the woman he loved more than he knew should have, feeling the unexpected hard press of leather armor and forgetful of his torn clothes and the scar-like spread of what looked like ice spreading strangely from over his heart where her dagger had once almost been. Still aware under the surface of the warm rush of relief of his promised ending, he savored the few extra precious moments granted him.
Caius pressed too-warm lips to platinum hair and pale skin with a sigh, eyes fluttering heavily with a few tears before he leaned away, bare hands still curled into Darcyanna's coat, resisting any inappropriate expressions of his gratefulness for their continued mutual existence, wanting to say something particularly poignant and thankful, only to just grin stupidly in her presence and kiss her shamelessly,
"I'm fucking glad to see you. To see we all live."
Shifting to tangle her weaponless hand with his and peer at Maebella and Alucard in time to catch most of whatever explanation was happening, he desperately attempted to conquer the terror and worry that gnawed at his very bones. His free hand strayed to his chest in idle curiosity, bared as it was by torn fabric from all of their struggle to make it into the Heart Chamber in one piece, as if he half-expected to feel cold, smooth ice where the strange mark was, as if he expected to feel it spreading and consuming him.
The First Ranger gave him no time to really attempt to think about what was happening, handing him a scroll instead, a scroll that allowed the user to cut through ice as if with fire. He wondered for a moment if it was meant for his heart once it froze, as he feared it eventually would here, promises still whispering in the darkest recesses of his now very confused thoughts.
Did he want to see the map? A little. Did he understand the scrolls? Barely. Was he sure he didn't want to see the ice monster again? Definitely.
He had no voice left with which to argue or speak up, attempting to process their adventure thus far without the comfort of his print room, even if for a brief moment they stood in what appeared to be a library. How he longed to touch things, to open the books and see what was written in them, or, if nothing else, to take a few. The young Gawyne even glanced at Maebella as if to wonder why her arms weren't full of the treasures here. Perhaps there was a danger to such a thing?
"What are the books here? This is a library? I read that the source of true knowledge is here, somewhere, or somehow, which could be fucking folklore for all I know, given how insane this place is instead. Did you look in any books? All that's useful are these scrolls and the map?" Caius was afraid to leave something unturned, somewhere in the back of his mind longing to find answers to a fate he felt he couldn't escape from. Was there a way to change what he'd been so sure of for as long as he could remember?
His eyes took in the room and the two women before landing on Alucard, who, once again, seemed eager to move. He noticed then, for the first time, that the other man was bleeding, and yet it seemed as though the First Ranger cared little, "Does that journal say something different from the first one? Does it describe those things back there? Or this room? Or, well, what's happening to me?"
Bogs if he didn't want more answers, still confused and ignorant to the gift he'd been given, even more so ignorant of the Giver.
It was with reluctance that the northern noble followed once they moved on, finding any distraction welcome lest he dwell on all the things he did not at all understand. Their next trek was hardly as dangerous, but the wall they found themselves blocked by was just another frustration in a long line of terror and unexplainable complications.
This place was maddening.
And yet, so long as he was breathing, Caius was desperate to find a way to find some place of calm, clearheaded thinking. It was fucking hard.
At the mention of climbing, the young Gawyne squinted upward, aware that he was the only one with any climbing gear attached to his boots. Without Alucard's axe, even with the various scrolls and the strange powers they granted, Caius couldn't think of a safe, swift way of making use of them in a vertical motion. All of his thoughts unraveled should one of them fall, taking the rest of the group with them. Even at the top, they'd still have to scale to the other side, potentially.
The northern noble hesitated, however, biting his lip before speaking up, aware of how his ideas had been received previously and where it had gotten him, gotten all of them. His irises paled, clearing his throat and restless, gloveless fingers toying with frayed edges of once-fine fabric without thinking,
"Through could work, I suppose. I mean, what sarding choice do we have? I don't see climbing as a good idea for any of us without the right gear, and even if we made it to the top of that, then what? Does the map say what's on the other side?" For fuck's sake, was he actually agreeing with the other man? Caius smirked, staring at Alucard with a moment of mischievous amusement rising above the fear that kept his heart shoved heatedly against the back of his throat,
"That scroll," He looked to Maebella, needfully, wanting more to work with, "does it let your whole body become ghostlike? Maybe someone should scout ahead and see how far we have to carve through."
Maybe.
Caius groaned, narrow shoulders slumping, curling one hand into the unkempt mess of his hair, "But if it's a support to the roof, then carving into it definitely risks collapse. Without knowing what we're walking into, or how far we have to go ... eh, fuck." His brother, Hunter, was the mathematician and architect. Or had been. The younger Gawyne was an arts student, a religion student, far more esoteric and abstract. Still, he thought of type in a chase in the print room, how delicate a balance it was to keep small pieces of metal type held precariously within the chase by tension and gravity,
"Closest to the edge is far safer than the middle, I'd say. Let's fucking go for it. It's better than standing here." Or, at least he hoped it was. Standing here alive was far better than reaching his promised final destination too soon.
❦
