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Chip would never play another prank again if this was what it was going to come to. Fighting a crewmate on the deck of his own ship, as it poured down cold rain, made freezing by the literal arena of ice surrounding the ship. He'd heard of facing the consequences of one's own actions, but good gods, this was getting out of hand. Much like one of his swords would be if he didn't focus up.
Gillion stood a mere foot before him, eyes alight with a determination, a rage unlike anything Chip had ever seen before. Chest steadily moving with exertion, far too controlled to be considered heaving, though with each exhale he growled. Terrifying and cold, it sent chills down his spine. Though he'd never express as much, that sort of honesty is reserved for someone far less... Chip. So he'd swallow this fear and cowardice, the way he's done for years. If Gillion saw him falter he might understand it to be weakness, and might mistake it for remorse. There was no way to talk around a person like Gillion, strong-willed and relentless. So Chip figured it'd be easier to move around him instead, fight him if there was no way to talk him down. Which so far has been much easier said than done, ironically enough.
Gillion slashed towards Chip's middle, an attempt to throw him off balance as he quickly moved his hips backwards to dodge the attack (though perhaps Gill was truly trying to gut him). Despite the rain making the wood of the deck slick, Chip still took advantage of his dextrous nature to place his blades against the top of Gillion's and kick himself upwards, flipping over him and swiftly sliding his swords up in front of Gill's neck, effectively trapping him, back pressed up against Chip's chest. Chip tried to center his breathing so Gillion couldn't feel how out of breath he was. Chip had plenty of endurance when it came to moving around quickly, but ordinarily he doesn't have a lump in his throat as guilt tries to tear its way up against his will. He shouldn't feel bad. They were just harmless jokes! Or should have been harmless at least.
Before Chip could continue his descent into humanity, he heard the dull clatter of a sword hitting the wet ground, and felt hands on his upper back and lower stomach as he was lifted up over Gillion and promptly slammed onto the deck, knocking all of the air out of his lungs and replacing it instead with water as it splashed into this gaping mouth, causing him to drop his swords and sputter. Lightning strikes directly above Chip’s prone body, the pattern closely resembling the pain running all down his spine and out to his limbs, the gods mocking him. Thunder followed shortly after, cheering for Gillion, who always has been favored by the gods. Their chosen one.
For a moment all he saw was Gillion's face, mouth curled into a scowl, and eyes unafraid and burning. Though perfect even still. He heard a scraping noise as Gillion’s sword came into view, its cold and unforgiving blade pressed up against Chip's neck. The water dripping down the side of it could easily be mistaken for blood, if not for its icy chill. Despite how cold he was, Chip felt as if he was on fire.
"You will no longer make a mockery of me. Do I make myself clear?" Gillion growled, though it's hard to tell if that was on purpose or as a result of his labored breathing. Chip laughed, coming out more like a cough, the taste of blood building on the back of his tongue, and replied, "Everything's a little blurry for me-” another cough, "maybe ya shouldn't have fought me if you wanted me to see-"
A surprised yelp left Chip's mouth, causing him to choke, both on his words and just in general, as Gillion had slid to be on top of Chip and forcefully yanked him up by the collar of his shirt.
Chip blinked to bring his eyes back to focus as he really looked at Gill. Gill, who had a stronger moral backbone than Chip's spineless self. Gill, who's been by their side since he'd been pulled aboard the ship, and stayed there with an unwavering faith up until recently. Gillion, whose trust was broken by someone he'd made the mistake of trusting...
Gillion, who Chip had ultimately betrayed.
The storms behind Gillion's eyes had not calmed one bit since their fight had begun, despite their sapphire tones. His eyebrows furrowed, clouding his expression, making it difficult to distinguish between tears and rain rolling down his cheeks. Nose scrunched up, causing small wrinkles to crack across the bridge of it. The thunder that escapes his lips being backed up by the gods again. A rumble reverberating through his chest enough for Chip to feel it, so very close to him, as he repeats himself for the final time. "Do I make myself clear?" Lightning strikes once more, illuminating Gillion’s looming presence from behind, glowing and powerful, bordering upon ethereal, fit for the gods. And all at once, Chip knew his place.
"Crystal."