I Trust You...
A lone soldier battled with his demons and thoughts. An outcast whose position had only granted him supremacy above his oppressors and acceptance into the brotherhood. Nonetheless, he was offered a role and a purpose. All his life, purpose drove him forward. The purpose to kill, to live, to protect.
Wrapped in his mistakes and past experiences that have shaped him into a fine young warrior. He was gifted the strength of a thousand soldiers, trained to be the best of men and harboured a deep secret that branded him as TWO.
The past when Vermeen became a carcass…
Vakiyv sat under the star-studded sky, playing with little rocks, when a pain close to nothing he had experienced before seared his body. It was unexplainable, like a combination of piercing arrows, bludgeoning batons and stabbing knives. He spasmed, rolling over continuously until he fell off a cliff. He bumped against numerous crevices, ripping his suit away and cutting into his flesh.
Vakiyv growled noisily, but Shyva was still unconscious from all that trauma she was put through. He couldn't allow her to see him this way. Vulnerable and useless. He felt he would be ripped apart the more he attempted to defend himself. And then the flashes followed as he descended lower to the ground, where he crashed with broken bones and split body parts. He was in disastrous pain. Fortunately, his bones began to fuse together, slowly taking shape from their breaks. The sheath of his visceral fused together, healing gradually, but he felt every pain.
His body was buried in a swamp; he tasted decomposition and death around him. If danger were to come, he doubted he would win.
Doubt? A weakness he'd never encountered since he was initiated into a man. Vakiyv was acute during the healing process, listening for oncoming danger and preparing to strike with the bit of strength he had left should he heal fast enough. He saw the vision of the fallen Blood Veil accompanying Vermeen's demise. He saw Nyla attack Vermeen and heard the secret—a hypothesis for a long time. Shyva was a child of damaged parents. It infuriated him that Nyla would think she could raise Shyva better.
His connection with Vermeen was severed, hence the toll he suffered from his death. How long had they been bonded this way? This could probably mean Vermeen could find him anywhere. Vermeen could read his thoughts? Vermeen could take control of his body without his knowledge. Many a thought ran through Vakiyv's mind, but watching Vermeen give his last breath tore him apart.
This wasn't a desirable outcome. The Blood Veil's army had succumbed to Nyla's charm. It was pitiful that they didn't know they would be Nyla's pawns.
If he should return, he would be treated as a traitor. It wouldn't be long before they connected Shyva's disappearance to him. Nya would rain, hail, and storm to retrieve her daughter. Vakiyv wasn't safe.
Vakiyv wept for his master. He wept for the purpose instilled in him after his troubling past. Vermeen had trusted him to lead his army, and he was indebted to him. It was saddening the few moments before his death that Vakiyv had lied and derailed to protect Shyva. He had chosen her over his leader. But he didn't regret it. He found a new purpose to protect, but there was more to Vakiyv and Shyva's connection than he envisioned. A connection he wasn't entirely yielding to.
It took a stretching moment till sonarise before his pains dissipated. His injuries had healed, and he was refreshed. He stood to his feet, dripping with mud and slime from the decomposed pit he lay all through the dark. Closing his eyes, he connected with his optic senses, and an aura of orange essence flowed around him, weaving around him almost magically. He watched through countless numbers of the Red Lord's eyes and saw through their vision in the Dome.
They were practising and adapting well enough to the new command. The more Vakiyv looked, the more he strained his vision, bringing webbed veins and red patches around his eyes. He looked for Nyla, moving from one pair of eyes to another, but he couldn't find her anywhere in the Dome. His pulse raced as he surpassed his limit after his fatal recovery. He was pulled out of his reverie, and his head rang loudly. He could still hear the voices from the Dome from all his investigation.
If Vermeen can find me, he thought, then Nyla can. How?
"Vermeen knew about the orb, he could track him aside from the bond. There had to be a way to portray ownership. Vermeen would never leave his men without exercising some possessiveness." Vakiyv thought hard and plastered his palms over his tattered suit from all that fall. A chip.
Vakiyv exhaled heavily and ran his dark, gloved fingers over his torso, channelling a minuscule of his power to trace the tracking chip. He didn't find it around his limbs or torso, but he felt a buzz when he glided his hands behind his neck. He broke his skin with a slash of his finger and dipped his finger through the epidermis, digging through the layers. He winced at the task and found a small capsule. He plucked it out with another finger and brought it to his view.
Its transparency showed a glowing green light. Vakiyv brought it closer to his eyes and watched closely. He hadn't known he wore one all these years—typical of Vermeen. Vakiyv crushed the tracking ship under his boot. If I have one, then Shyva has one.
He didn't want Shyva to see him this way; he had to find better clothing and cleanse himself of the dirt that stuck to him like a second skin.
"You look different!" Shyva leapt to see Vakiyv dressed differently from how she knew him. His taste for dark clothes that enveloped every inch of his body except his eyes. His pants were ill-fit, halting around his shin, but his boot complimented, hiding his skin. What might be the colour of his skin? Does he glow, or is he pale? Is he breathtaking? Or do his actions sharpen his looks?
He dwarfed her; his broad shoulders and domineering height blocked the morning lights entering the cave. "We have to change locations. I figured a way we can be traced." He held the crushed tracking chip between his fingers. Shyva hurried to take a look. She took it from his large hands, not denying herself a glance at the strangeness of his clothing. His loose shirt hung freely over his muscled body, tucked into the beige pants. He must have threatened or killed to have these.
"If you think I killed the poor man that bore these clothes, you're mistaken. But I did threaten him." He satisfied her curiosity. Shyva shifted her attention to the object and shook her head.
"Nyla would never do this to me. She trusts me."
"Vermeen trusted me as well and see where it led me."
"Nyla knows I can't betray her. All I do is for her and my sisters."
"If you possess this chip, you endanger us both. If Nyla finds me, she will strike me immediately, and I do not wish to end in that manner. Allow me to find this chip, and if I don't, I'll be in your debt."
"You would be cutting into my skin." She gazed deeply into his eyes and gulped at the thought of the cut. Shyva had a weakness for incisions and cuts. She couldn't fathom why but felt uncomfortable seeing blades and needles in the Dome's lab and infirmary.
"I promise not to hurt you. I will never. I need you to trust me."
Shyva nodded gently and watched him take position behind her. She felt his nearness, which made her swallow hard and shudder slightly. He swept her mane over her left shoulder.
"Easy, Shyva. It'll be quick." He assured.
He switched a blade from his pocket and cut through the skin of her neck. It wasn't advisable to use his fingers. He couldn't risk it. Shyva winced and shook, but he whispered words of courage into her ears, digging into her skin to find the chip. No matter how hard he tried, he didn't find it in her neck, but a vibration buzzed somewhere else. He healed her with his powers, swiping his palm over her neck, and leaving her in a state of shock.
When he traced the buzz, they came from the path between the swells of her breasts. Shyva traced his gaze and returned to face him.
Not happening.