Before You Snap

Nikolai had kept his word.

Basileios knew he would.

Even though he was a traitorous bastard.

He stalked the streets of Mead, the moon hanging low in the sky with clouds lazily drifting across its light. A soft breeze picked through the alleyways, shuffling leaves and loose papers down the uneven cobblestone. He dressed in dark clothes, his black cloak sweeping at his legs with each step, the characteristic click of his cane’s end against the streets being the only sound. If it weren't for his thin leather gloves, one would see that his knuckles were white with the grip he had on its hilt.

He almost didn't make the trek, consumed with doubt from his friend's - no, not a friend - recent betrayal. What if his information was false? Leading him into an ambush? It would be easy to pick a guy like him off of the streets of Mead and cart him off to the Sunless Jungle with none around to serve as witness. But Apollyn offered a higher chance of disappearance than alligators, so, perhaps the information would be true and Nikolai simply wagered on Basileios' faults.

He had told himself to stay calm, but each step only raised the flame in his chest. The electricity in his eyes. The heat in his veins. He could feel it boiling through his heart, his temple, his fingertips. He used it to fuel his trek, despite the way exhaustion battled.

It was all so exhausting. Being angry all the time. Pretending not to be in the presence of Lasair. Keeping secrets. Telling lies. Being lied to. Well, he prided himself in the fact that he had not said a single lie. Skirted the truth? Chosen not to answer certain questions? Perhaps, but never had he straight up lied. He kept his promise of honesty, but this was a burden that he chose to bear alone…

Alone with Jericho and Nikolai.

He muttered under his breath in frustration at the thought. Nikolai, sure, at the time it had seemed like a solid investment, but he was certain he was losing his mind the moment he had shook hands with that outrageous, colorful thief.

Now, he knew he was losing his mind trusting either of them.

He paused in the middle of a fork in the alleyways, his other hand resting over the top of the one on his cane as he took a moment to breathe. A breath in. A breath out. Repeat until his heart slowed and his blood cooled. He knew what Apollyn was capable of now, and though he was no match against his magic (or his size), he would do his best to keep his nerves collared and chained. He was not a yapping hound but a slinking cat, and his gaze settled hard at the thought.

He had taken on more sizable monsters before.

When you had the ability to fry them at your fingertips,

His jaw set stiff at the thought, huffing under his breath before he clicked forward. His hand found his pocket and he felt for the paper he had put together before he left. Lionel’s name along with his whereabouts. The seedy man typically stuck to Faline, but Basileios’ contacts had informed him that he planned to leave for the next few weeks, bouncing between towns from Mead on. What he was doing, they couldn’t say, but it sure didn’t sound like good clean family fun. And that thought made his lip quirk in a smirk. Or maybe it was a snarl. He didn’t quite know anymore.

And he didn’t like that. He didn’t like that he didn’t know himself anymore. But he clung to that little piece of happiness that he had found with Lasair. Their quiet murmurs at the theater, their games at the town festival. The way she made him smile when he didn’t even know he was doing it. Not just happiness, but bliss.

As another cloud drifted before the moon, casting the alley in a low, eerie light, he turned at the sound of a boot scuffing against stone. Had it been any other man Basileios was tracking, he would find himself wondering if the shadow lumbering away from him was the one he was after. There was no mistaking Apollyn, though, his height alone a beacon among the still of the night.

He snapped into a sweeping gait, his cane clacking hard against the cobblestone, his steps light as if he was in the practice hall. Though now, the sword in his hand was his cane, and oh how he wished he had pulled the blade from its sheath.

But Basileios didn’t kill people.

And he would regret that.

“Apollyn.” His voice rang, echoing in the empty alley. It was deep, dark, dripping with venom for the man who he had considered… well, not quite a friend, but worthy enough for a sliver of his trust. He flipped his cane in his hand, his grip tight on the bottom now, leaving the sharp curve of the hilt to do most of the damage. “Look at me, you piece of shit.” He wanted to see his eyes before he swung.

With a crack of the golden handle against the man’s skull, swing he did, a tremor running up his arm from the sheer force of it. Hell, this guy had a thick skull.

And try as he might, he couldn’t even muster a smirk as the man hit the ground, his teeth gritting together painfully as he took a step forward, tucking his cane into the crook of his arm. He hesitated, only for a moment, gloved fists curling. He could kill him. He could stab him right here if he acted quickly enough and none would be the wiser. He could be rid of this problem-

His hand whipped out in an offering to help him stand instead.

“We need to talk.”