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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 26, 2012 9:27:56 GMT -5
Phoenix was pretty damn certain that he didn’t want anyone coming out into the rain to find him. Or, at least, he had been until Kevay showed up. The thief’s chest hurt in a way that made him think there might be something seriously wrong, he was tired beyond any reasonable comprehension, and the urge to start ripping the barracks to pieces was almost overwhelming. But then the cupid’s arm moved around him and he was grounded, Phoenix turning to lean into the hug, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.
He somehow managed to compose himself when Kevay spoke, the thief wiping at his eyes with a shaking hand and sitting back a little to frown across at him. “We can’t,” he said miserably, his voice hoarse and quiet. “She said… there are too many towers. She’s prob’ly already moved on, this was months ago. We can’t do it, it’s impossible.” He shook his head, though he took the letter when it was offered, slipping it away quickly so that the water wouldn’t damage it.
“There’s no point, Kevay. We’re gonna die soon anyhow… there’s nothin’ we can do. C’mon… I’m sorry I freaked out, I just… I didn’t expect…” He shook his head and raked his red hair out of his face, stumbling to his feet.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 7:44:55 GMT -5
This was the point when Kevay was meant to don his cupid wings and spurt out a million clichés about love, but Kevay had never been the best cupid in the world. Usually he enjoyed the heartbreak, but this was his friend and he was acutely aware of his suffering. “Stealing a Princess away from the palace in the first place was impossible, but you managed that.” He commented quietly, smiling to Phoenix against his better judgement. “And a thief from the Cressan slums getting this far was impossible too, but you did that as well. So far you’ve given the finger to impossible, Phoenix. Why stop now?” He nudged him lightly, looking up at him as he stumbled to his feet.
“I don’t want to die.” He mumbled to him, hauling himself up from the ground, soaked to the bone by now. “I certainly don’t want to die on a battlefield. Let’s focus on staying alive, and if we do make it out the other side, let’s make a pact. If we live through the battle, we’ll find the Princess. I mean, it’d be rude not to answer her letter anyway.” He shrugged a shoulder, pushing his hair back from his face. “I mean, I feel like crap, so I’ll need a good dose of true love to make me feel better again.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 9:12:54 GMT -5
Phoenix shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform and stared at the ground, reluctantly listening to Kevay’s summing up of his experiences with Rory. He shook his head, but the cupid had a point. Phoenix just didn’t want to hurt anymore. He sighed deeply as he was nudged, glancing back across to his friend and managing the smallest of smiles as he gazed across at him. “I don’t want to die either,” he said quietly. Hearing it out loud was strange, and Phoenix realised he wasn’t just saying it. He really didn’t want to die. That was… surprising.
“Huh? A pact?” He turned to lead them back towards the hall, to get them out of the rain. “I… fine, yeah. Okay, a pact. We live through this, we’ll try to find Rory. And your jester. We need to find her as well.” He didn’t want Kevay to think he was getting out of this or something. “A good dose of true love? Gaaaaay.” He snorted, shaking his head to the cupid and heading back inside. “You sound like a lovesick minstrel, Kevay.”
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 10:31:25 GMT -5
“My jester? I…yeah. Yeah, finding her would be good too, but I’m not sure that she wants to be found.” He mumbled, rubbing at the back of his head as they headed back to the hall. “Pfft, if I were gay I could live on the man-loving in this place without worrying about going back out into the real world to get some real adoration.” He grumbled, though he dropped the conversation as they stepped back into the hall; he had enough trouble training without the other soldiers knowing that he was a mythical cupid. Here you kept your head down and got on with it and just hoped that no-one paid any attention to you, the exact opposite of what Kevay was used to doing. *************************************** The desire not to die was the only thing that kept Kevay going over the next few weeks. All of a sudden it was like something clicked into place and he started to do things right. His new muscles were obvious under the pristine uniform as he buttoned it up, the Cupid looking thrilled that they finally got to wear something decent. He looked good, even if he did say so himself. At least he was going out to die in a decent outfit rather than the itchy uniforms they’d been forced to wear through their training. The call had come through the night before to tell them that they were marching out to the battle this morning and the dark smudges under his eyes told that he’d not managed to get to sleep since hearing the news. His hands were shaking a little too, but he was doing his best to hide that. The atmosphere in their tent was tense, everyone looking pale and quiet. They knew where they were going and they knew that there was a high probability that they would die, or their friends would die. The men were all avoiding looking at each other because they all knew what the others were thinking; they were wondering who would come back alive and who would die out there. “One little battle…” Kevay mumbled to himself quietly. “Then we can go back to our lives, right?” He whispered, glancing over to Phoenix. “We’ll stick together, like we said, right? You won’t leave me out there?” They had endured weeks of gruelling training all leading up to this one battle and it was still pretty uncertain whether or not Kevay would just forget it all and turn and run when the battle actually started. Instinct trumped training any day. [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 11:55:00 GMT -5
The call had come, and it was only a matter of time before they were (probably) going to die. People didn’t recruit drunkards, lowlifes and thieves to be part of some pristine army that was going to live more than five minutes. They were cannon fodder, and the worst part was that every one of them knew it. Phoenix stood a few feet away from Kevay, looking surprisingly dashing in his clean uniform. He felt like a bit of a ponce, with the cloak and the sabre at his hip and the large hat with the feather in it, but hell, it was better than rags that stank of booze. His red hair was clean and plaited, his chin smooth from shaving that morning, and while his green eyes had long lost the glitter of roguish charm, there was no doubt that Phoenix cut a handsome figure now.
Even if he did look like nothing compared to Kevay.
“One little battle,” he repeated, smiling and nodding for the cupid’s benefit. He could tell Kevay was afraid; it was obvious, they were all afraid, to one extent or another. He drew up beside his friend and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Of course we’ll stick together. The hell would I want to lose you for? Who’s gonna buy me booze after all this if not you?” He joked, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and letting his hand drop to rest on the hilt of his sword. “We’ll get through this as a team, then we’ll go find what we’re looking for, yeah?”
Giving him another reassuring smile, Phoenix glanced around at the sound of a horn blowing outside. It was still black out, the fingers of dawn not having yet reached over the horizon. But they needed to get to the borders before light. Men started grumbling and grabbing their weapons and provisions, wandering out of the tent to mount their horses. Phoenix glanced behind at Kevay before following. He had made sure their horses were tethered to the same post; Phoenix’s was a dapple grey and seemed sweet enough, but whether it would actually be any good at riding into battle, he had no idea.
Untethering the animal, he patted its neck and pulled himself into the saddle. “Let’s get this over with, then…”
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 12:41:15 GMT -5
Kevay smiled to Phoenix thankfully as he spoke, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I’m in serious need of a good drink.” He mumbled. Well, a couple of months in the training camp hadn’t cured him of his alcoholism; it had just made him painfully sober. “We will get drunk and we will find what we are looking for. Maybe not at the same time because I’m not great at finding things when I’m drunk.” The attempted joke fell a bit flat because he really didn’t feel playful right now. Right now he was focusing on not running off to throw up from the nerves. “Wish we could have a drink now. Battle would be easier drunk.”
He double checked that he had everything before reluctantly following Phoenix out of the tent and to their horses. Kevay’s was a placid chestnut creature who swished its tail when it saw him and neighed quietly. “Hello girl.” He murmured, smoothing out her mane and checking that he’d put the saddle on right (Starting his campaign by falling from his saddle wouldn’t be great) before he hauled himself up into the saddle and took up the reins. “I guess this is it then.” He murmured, looking across at Phoenix. “We will fight, we will win and then we will go back to our lives.”
Another horn blew and the men moved into their ranks, rows of nervous men on sleepy horses all lining up to march to their deaths. It was a grim sight and Kevay’s knuckles were white as he held his reins, busy trying to picture Rory in her palace and Lexie busy entertaining a group of children in the market place. It was better to focus on them than what was really happening. [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 13:19:24 GMT -5
“Damn right we will,” Phoenix told Kevay as he turned his horse around, the thief staring around at the lines of men sitting uneasily in their saddles as if it was happening to someone else. It looked as if he was putting on a brave face, but the reality was that Phoenix just didn’t have the strength any more to feel afraid. He wasn’t able to think much past the next day, despite the fact that he’d never so much as set foot on a battlefield. “Hey,” he called to the cupid as he nudged his horse into a walk when they began to march. “Quit lookin’ so grim. You’d think we were gonna die or something.” Managing a brief grin, he fell quiet to listen to their commander.
The morning came and went without incident, a thick fog rolling in, making it difficult to see. The men who’d been able had fallen asleep in their saddles, others talking quietly. The snow-capped mountains loomed overhead now, and the coast was nowhere to be found. They would be at the border soon.
Phoenix’s eyes were narrowed as he sat in his saddle, the thief’s head down so that people wouldn’t notice he was staring across at a couple of men just to the right of them. Well, Kevay would likely notice, but Phoenix didn’t so much mind that. They were discussing… something, and his keen ears had picked up the mention of some plan, something that needed to be done when they got to the border. Normally he wouldn’t have cared less, but the men didn’t look particularly trustworthy on a good day, and they weren’t in any kind of position to be issuing commands. They were grunts, just like Phoenix and Kevay.
The thief’s eyes snapped up to watch as the men exchanged a roll of parchment, but before he could mention anything to Kevay another horn blew and they were pulled up to a stop. “We must have reached the camp. I’m guessing they’ll split us up now and give us orders…”
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 14:16:58 GMT -5
Whoever decided that riding horses was a convenient way to travel deserved shooting. One day on horseback and Kevay was saddle sore, his back aching from being slouched there against the fog for so long, his bum numb. His fingers were stiff and cramped, calloused hands rubbed sore by the reins. The motion of the horse made him sleepy, but the anxiety twisting in the pit of his stomach kept him awake. Well, he wouldn’t need to be well rested if he was going to die; he’d have plenty of time to relax once someone stabbed him. He just had to hope they’d know to cut out his heart and eat it, otherwise the world might be left without a cupid and he had no idea what that would mean.
The horn made him jump, Kevay looking more alert all of a sudden, sitting up straighter in his saddle. He’d been too absorbed with trying to work out why Phoenix had his suspicious face on to realise that they were so close to the camp. He scowled as he glanced across at the men, gaze flickering back to Phoenix.
“What? What’s happened?” He whispered as the commanders rode down the lines to split them up into smaller groups. Phoenix and Kevay were together, sent to a camp right on the front line, alongside the shifty looking men. Of course they were in the same group as the shifty ones; that was just their luck. “What did you hear, Phoenix? Are we sleeping with one eye open from now on?” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 14:51:31 GMT -5
Phoenix had just enough time to feel relieved that he and Kevay had been split into the same group (worry about being on the front line would come later) when they were suddenly moving away to take their posts. The thief sat up in his saddle, twisting painfully to try and stretch out his aching muscles. He was tired, just like Kevay, but Phoenix had been dragged pretty much all over Avalas when he’d been on the run with Rory. A day on horseback wasn’t so bad when you’d jumped from a moving carriage.
He waited until they were well on their way to what he assumed would be their death camp before leaning closer to talk to Kevay. “Both eyes open if I got anything to do with it. I don’t think it was a coincidence that they ended up on the front with us,” he said to the cupid in a low voice, frowning and reining up to a stop outside a dreary looking barracks. Sighing, he painfully dismounted, joints creaking and legs threatening to give way beneath him, but he managed to tether his horse up in the nearby stables and take his place with the other men to receive their orders.
Drawing up next to Kevay, he quickly explained everything he’d seen and heard, about the parchment exchanged between the two men. “It was the fat blond one, I think, that took it,” he whispered, nodding across the way to the two soldiers loitering around and cracking jokes. “I want it off him before the night is out…” Scowling, he fell silent to listen to their commander.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 15:16:10 GMT -5
Kevay realised that he’d been a soldier for far too long when the barracks (nothing more than a few huddled tents) were a welcome sight. He groaned as he dismounted, joints popping and cracking as he carefully stretched out, bringing a little life back into his stiff muscles. “Remind me never to buy a horse.” He grumbled to Phoenix, patting his mount on the neck and making sure that she had enough hay as he tethered her up. At least he’d not have to worry about riding into battle. They were the grunts; they’d be marching to their death on their own two feet. The horses just meant that they’d arrived faster.
He frowned as Phoenix explained the situation, scowling as he looked over at the fat blonde man. “Looks like you’re going to have to brush the dust off your thieving skills, Red.” He murmured as he took his place at the red haired thief’s side. “I can create a diversion, you steal the parchment, I will read it to see what it says. If it’s just a drawing of a naked lady I think it will be worth it just to see a good set of breasts before we die.” He winked to him, though the jest couldn’t hide his nerves.
The day was spent preparing for battle; going over their orders, sharpening their blades, cleaning their armour and mentally preparing themselves for death. Having the parchment to focus on helped Kevay, it gave him less time to think about what was to come. Their opportunity came when the evening meal was served. Compared to what they usually had this was a feast; a thick stew with chunks of actual meat and hunks of only half stale bread. It put the men in good spirits, all of them singing rowdy war ballads as they ate. The fat blonde one was sat towards the back of the tent on the end of one of the benches, smirking to himself secretly as the others ate.
“Ready?” Kevay asked, glancing to Phoenix, his bowl empty on the table in front of them. “Let’s see what Mr. Smug over there is up to.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 15:59:46 GMT -5
“You got that right. Aw, hell Kevay. Now I’m hoping I was wrong and that it really is just a fantastic pair of tits.” Phoenix sighed in exasperation, the thief removing his hat to run his fingers through his hair, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at the cupid. He nodded at his suggestion but said nothing more on the subject; for one, he wasn’t sure if there was anything left of his thieving skills to dust off, and he didn’t want to get caught out by their commander for not listening. Last thing he wanted was a whipping before he died.
Phoenix listened to orders with the tired practice of his training, getting to work as soon as he was given freedom to. He spent the day counting and packing up provisions, sharpening his sword and the pocket knife he kept in his boot, making sure his uniform was clean and his armour without flaw. If nothing else, Phoenix planned to die right.
By the time the evening meal rolled around the thief had just awoken from a nap, sitting next to Kevay and watching the shadows flicker from the dancing flames of the fire. The men were rowdy and in a good mood, Phoenix yawning widely and pushing his empty bowl away. “Mm…?” He glanced across to Kevay as if to ask him if he looked ready, but he nodded and smirked, following his gaze over to the fat blond and his shifty looking friend. “A’right. I’ma make myself scarce. You get your distracting face on.”
Winking, Phoenix rose to his feet and heaved himself over the bench, stretching sleepily and not looking at all as if he was ready to go and lift a roll of parchment from someone’s pocket. Which was exactly what he wanted them to think.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 16:16:45 GMT -5
If there was one thing that Kevay was good at it was causing a distraction. The cupid nodded to Phoenix and winked, pushing his bowl aside as he rose to his feet. In the next instant Kevay had hauled himself up onto the table, planning on using the rowdiness in the room to his advantage. “If they’re sending us to die you’d have thought they’d have sent us some woman to warm our beds tonight!” He called, a roar of agreement going up from the soldiers.
Just like that Kevay had them hooked, had the men hanging on his every word as he launched into a vulgar story about his last encounter with a woman. It sounded exaggerated, but if you knew Kevay you knew that every word of it was the truth. Soon enough the whole room was joining in, calling out stories of their own, or prompting more rowdy tales from the cupid, who was more than happy to oblige them. The whole time, however, he was watching Phoenix and the shady duo out of the corner of his eye, checking on his progress and making sure to add an extra juicy bit into the story whenever their targets looked to be losing interest. [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 16:38:35 GMT -5
Phoenix had to be honest, even he found it hard to concentrate with Kevay distracting the men as well as he was doing. He tried his best to look sleepy and uninterested as he meandered around the tent to where the shadowy duo was watching Kevay with amusement, but it was admittedly a bit of a challenge with how interesting the cupid’s stories were. Phoenix had to resist from chipping in with his own tales, mostly because he now felt jealous and inadequate, but he had a job to do.
The fat blond man was laughing loudly and slamming his cup on the table as the other soldiers spoke about their raunchy little encounters, and Phoenix spotted the parchment poking out from one of his jacket pockets. He watched him for one moment, two… and shoved one of the other men right into him. An argument, naturally, followed. The blond man, now covered in ale (where he’d squirrelled that from was beyond Phoenix), had moved to take a swing at the man who’d so rudely fallen into him, giving the thief a chance to slip the parchment from his pocket.
Phoenix didn’t stick around for anything else. He slipped out of the tent, expecting Kevay to follow soon enough, and smirked to himself, looking like a totally different man. The parchment was safe in his hand, his breath fogging the air as he waited outside the tent. He unrolled it, but beyond the odd word he couldn’t make out anything.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Dec 27, 2012 16:49:32 GMT -5
Kevay had to keep from cheering as he realised that Phoenix had succeeded. He couldn’t follow immediately, that would have been too obvious, but it didn’t take him long to excuse himself and slip out of the tent. The shouting and laughter continued as he left, as it would long into the night. It was the eve of battle; no-one would sleep easy. It was better for the others to distract themselves with memories of soft flesh and beautiful women.
“Well?” He murmured as he drew up beside Phoenix, peering over his shoulder at the parchment. He scowled, gaze quickly flickering over the page before he shook his head and made Phoenix roll it back up. “We need to go. Now. Officers tent.” He blurted, shoving Phoenix in the right direction, barely able to get his words out fast enough. “Betrayal. Enemies. Plans. Spies.” He summarised, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure that the suspicious duo weren’t following them. “We need to get to the officers before they realise the parchment is gone.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Dec 27, 2012 17:32:17 GMT -5
“I dunno, I can’t read it,” Phoenix said, mildly frustrated as he stared down at the parchment. He looked relieved when Kevay scanned it over his shoulder, but that quickly faded, the thief rolling up the scroll and looking puzzled. “What?” He blurted, already meandering away after Kevay with the parchment clutched tightly in his hand. “What are you talking about? The Officers’ Tent?” He picked up the pace to walk with the cupid, his head down and his voice low so nobody would be able to catch their words.
His eyes widened as the contents of the letter was revealed to him. “Are you serious? Wait, I was right?” He allowed himself a brief, proud little smirk, but soon enough the seriousness of the situation dawned on him. “And I bet with our luck, that’ll be soon,” he muttered.
In fact, Phoenix was just ducking inside the officer’s tent when he heard the bellow of anger from across the barracks, guessing that, even with the jovial atmosphere among the soldiers, big, blond and fat was not going to be pleased. “Stay here. Shout if he gets too close. Or, y’know, run. I would,” he admitted, sweeping inside. The thief explained as quickly as he could about what had happened, pushing the parchment into the officer’s hands and telling him to read himself because Phoenix couldn’t.
He would never find out the man’s reaction. At that moment a few panicky shouts rose up outside, and someone was blowing a horn, but it was quickly cut off by whatever was happening. “Oh no. We were too late…? Kevay!” He called, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “What’s happening?” He ducked outside, eyes wide.
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