...||So Much Easier Not To
Week of War: Jin Huang
The echo of trumpets were fading as Delmin's eyes flickered opened, the dragon hesitating in his reply. The man rolled eyes at the feeling of reluctance, taking a quick mental stock and attempted to sort out what had happened. He'd obviously had some kind of head trauma, a vague and out of focus memory confirmed. It made him wince, even now, although he couldn't exactly put his finger on what had hit him. "So, how long has it been?" he asked softly, voice strangely soft and hard to use. "And what happened, anyway?" A frown creased his face as Delmin lifted a worryingly weak and shaking hand to rest tiredly on his face. The long pause before an answer came clued him in that something had gone horribly wrong while he'd been unconscious.
This is the fifth week, came the response, finally. Delmin froze, awkwardly shifted as he had been trying to leverage himself into a sitting position. He stayed like that for a moment, eventually deciding to slouch back down. Attempting to drag his now scattered thoughts back into coherency, the man sorted out a few basic facts to build on. If he'd been lying here for five weeks, then obviously Lysander or Arithon had survived better than he, else how could he have been moved from the bank to what was nominally his house and his bed? As Delmin continued to try and make sense of the spinning vortex the rest of his thoughts and memories had been cast into, stepping from one firm conclusion to the next, building a solid foundation to reground
himself on, an unrelated memory interjected itself --
"Who was that?" Delmin asked, attempting to peer at the mental scene that faded away before he had a chance to examine it closely.
No one important, Jin Huang answered in a soft tone, one flavored with emotions Delmin couldn't even begin to process. You should go back to sleep.
-- which didn't help matters any, leaving only more questions to be answered. Interested in figuring at least one thing out, the man examined it more closely, despite the faint tingle of alarm and warning coming from the dragon. He'd been in a chair, apparently, once again proving that one or both of the demons had survived. Not only that, they hadn't let him stay in bed the whole time, something that mostly knew to be unhealthy. Obscurely comforted by the idea that they cared enough to do such things, Delmin willfully ignored, or at least glossed over, the fact that the demons would likely have only done so at the direct behest of their Lord. It wasn't an entirely discomfiting proposition, after all; the lending of his voice to Jin Huang's direct control had occurred several times previously, so it hadn't violated any of the carefully unspoken agreements god and mortal had come to. Jin Huang was starting to talk, to explain what had occurred in those missing weeks, but a fragmented memory surfaced abruptly, with more
force than the last --
"Futs Lung, is it. Now two Dragon Kings have come to plague me on my Throne. But you... you were always my favorite." She leaned forward and made to snatch at the proffered gem.
Jin Huang let her snatch the gem away, amused. "You do remember me. I am honored, Lady," he said, bowing his head slightly in a far more genuine display of respect.
-- leaving behind a decidedly upset mortal in its wake. Jin Huang's attempt at explanation trailed off, momentarily silenced by the slow burn of anger uncoiling throughout his host. He quickly started again, trying to relate the circumstances that had driven him to violate that unspoken trust, but Delmin cut him off abruptly, everything else having been dropped. "That was one of those things you weren't supposed to do," he said coldly. "Not without
asking."
And just who was I supposed to ask? Jin Huang countered, just as icily. He'd intended to explain, and perhaps apologize -
him, apologize - but to be treated with such abrupt contempt, to have everything dismissed without examining any of the extraordinary circumstances that had driven him? That, to the dragon, was just as unforgivable as Delmin thought his complaint.
"You could have woken me up, instead of just
taking over. It's not your body just yet," he continued, suppressing an internal shiver at the idea that had reared up - what if he
had woken back up, only to find his body changed and no longer truly his?
You think I didn't try? Jin Huang replied derisively. Before Delmin could continue the argument, the dragon shifted
something in the spaces of the mind that they shared, and the lost weeks poured in. Even formed as it was from a mind beyond human comprehension, the mortal could grasp enough of it to take sense of the heart of what had occurred. Enough to assure that
he had not been cast aside eagerly, only with deliberation and great care.
As you can see, I have not been idle. And tell me, Delmin Brock, would you have truly wished me to be, in such times? There came no reply, only a vague sense of sheepish apology as Delmin still struggled to adjust.
I have been given a task, and a portion of my ancient duty to reshoulder. While I would ask for your assistance, and admit that your willing cooperation would be most useful, this task must be done, no matter the cost.
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