Diomedes and his quest to find his Cometes·was a familiar one, wherever the vampire pursued, questions after the cubi had always followed. Markus had understood what it meant at one point to be so consumed by his desires that it eclipsed all else, he’d have known if Arthur’s life had ended prematurely, he’d have known if another had seized the sword that Markus had once sworn would be his own.·“Then he must yet live, I hope you’re able to find him, and he suffers the fate he deserves. Tell me, what do you intend to do when you finally track him down?”
This magic would not restrain him forever, for all of the genasi’s tricks, Markus had played this game centuries prior. He knew what it would take to break it.·“I have magic of my own now, all I require is one or two more witches, perhaps a werewolf, somehow I doubt she’ll have made it simple to break. But, it will break, just the same.” Markus spoke with certainty, despite the screaming that rang in his ears, the eidolon that followed him was a new curse, one that even he was familiar with. But he would find a way to dispel that spirit also.·
“He promised my death if I failed him, I could return to trying to get the thing he was after - Patroclus’ blood - or I can prepare myself for an inevitable confrontation.” The original vampire was not easily slighted, and Markus would be smart to try and make himself at least appear valuable.·“Antony has wished me dead for years, if Hektor told him to murder me, I have no doubt he’d carry out that man’s will.”
Diomedes stared into the black earth, a spectator to an event unseen; a fantastical event that he was determined would come to pass. “Imprison him, starve him, then slowly drain the blood from his body once he’s weak enough to feel it leaving his veins. When I’m satisfied, I’ll enlist a shifter to finish the job. I’m not entirely without compassion; he’ll die when I allow it.” But that did not necessarily mean he would make it swift. Months. Years. Decades. Centuries. How long would he let him heal only to malnourish him again? He couldn’t say.
Immortals are nothing without their grudges. They were all that was left when everything else fell away. Or perhaps not in the case of Markus, who had reserves of magic lingering in his remade mortal veins. At least he was able to have some sort of comfort, some sort of power to withstand the oncoming battles. Diomedes decided if Markus did not care for the genasi’s curse, then he would let the issue drop.
As for the family issue- “Yet here you are,” he said. “So either Antony is biding his time, or he has renounced his claim over your demise altogether. Perhaps you made progress during your time together.” That was oddly optimistic, even for the Argive. But if Antony had any wits about him at all, he would see how willingly Hektor had thrown Markus to the crows, and be advised against any sort of loyalty for him.
And then abruptly, the wiley vampire was struck dumb. “Patroclus?”
He remembered those days in Troy; the endless supply of sand in their greaves, the sharpening of spear points over fire and wine- mocking Agamemnon’s worthlessness alongside Achilles and Odysseus. Most of all perhaps, he remembered Athena’s subtle and chaste visitations. Patroclus. He will die. She had said it as simply as she commanded the death of the young Troilus. He will die. Don’t you see? It needs to be done. When he had visited the body, he learned it was Thetis who had put ambrosia in the dead man’s nose to keep the rot at bay. She had come as swiftly as Athena had departed with her forty-nine sisters in tow.
“Patroclus,” he repeated. The name was uncomfortably familiar. “You say that Hektor seeks his blood? For what purpose?” He corrected himself, shifting his face back to passive. It was probably for the best not to appear vexed.·“If he is anything like I remember, you would do better to make an ally of him than give into Hektor.”
izzy806
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
ellievsbear
romaincrisis
germansingergirl
