Chapter Text
It had been a while since the king beckoned the Knight.
Millenia had gone by without that familiar ache, but it soon nestled into the deep nook it had carved out ages ago. The march back from his latest crusade was agony. The king did not like to wait.
The Knight's comrades took notice of his troubled gait, but he dismissed them.
"Go and eat. You deserve it." The Knight, however, did not.
Once the adrenaline of battle wore off, there was always a torrent of blood. Hands, feet, hearts, eyes, teeth; all mingled with the disturbing onslaught. Just the thought of shoving water down his arid throat had the Knight doubled over from the retching. He never ate after. Not that anyone could have noticed. Once the deed was complete, he would flee to a calm alcove. Away from prying eyes, the Knight would inflict physical torment upon himself to ease the visions.
Yet, the king never allowed for anything fatal.
Now, the Knight silently prayed to the king. The method of communication only made the delusions pulse fiercely. It was almost as mind-splitting as the day they'd coalesced. Outside of the compound, the Knight allowed himself to lean against the cool stone walls. The pressure behind his sockets was unbearable.
His voice, hoarse from commanding the squadron, was barely audible, as to not agitate his head. "My king."
The Knight would normally speak within his mind, but it was currently tearing itself apart. Speaking, while difficult, was the best way to minimize the pain during this summons. He willed his eyes to close. The king's orders would get lost in the turmoil if he didn't pay attention. The Knight searched through the congealed, vibrating fluid until he noticed a troublesome rumbling that threatened to pop his eyes out.
"This is how you greet your king?" The Knight's eyes squeezed tighter. "How disrespectful."
Each word took up more space than the last. Each tone left a longer, louder resonance.
"I-" The Knight fell to his knees. The impact sent him reeling.
All he can see is the lifeless flesh crammed behind his eyelids. The fear in the young soldiers' gaze across the battlefield. The combined throbbing of their hearts melding with the roar of the king. The silent prayers never ceased as the king forced its commands unto the Knight.
"The Gates have been breached." The king would have sounded annoyed if the Knight had the capacity to focus on its tone. "Whatever is in there, I cannot reach. Remove it."
He attempted to nod or speak a word of understanding but as the king slipped out of his mind all the Knight could feel was relief. He took one of his blades and stabbed his thigh. The pressure in his head gave. He did it again. The blood began to clear up. Again, and again; over, and over. What a juvenile way to deal.
The Gates.
What could possibly be in there that the king could see but do nothing about?
The Knight ripped his left sleeve off and wrapped his butchered thigh. The blade returned to his waist. It was easy to get back on his feet, despite what his leg had suffered. Although his mind-splitting hallucinations had reduced to a mere headache, the king's words bounced around, clouding every thought the Knight had.
The Gates.
Remove it.
Remove it.
Remove it.