upon realizing how awfully direct he’d been, darinean winced and looked around just as fearfully; but no one seemed to have paid attention to them. that was good, but at the same time it proved yet again how invisible the young vigilant was, and for once, it bothered him.
“ sorry. i’m not used to keeping secrets. ”,
he replied quietly, this time to actually only address erik.
the well-meant pat on the shoulder only made darinean retreat a little further into himself, his entire posture somehow just shrinking when erik asked about the time he spent with the vigilants.
“ 23 years. this… this is my LIFE. ”
or… was it his life? could he even go on like this, now that he’d been face to face with a man who wanted a cure and not remain a beast?
to know that darinean himself had ended the lives of people that were begging for MERCY ( which, ironically enough, stendarr’s children did not have for them ), telling him about a cure that he’d only dismiss as yet another lie… that was truly soul-crushing.
if darinean hadn’t grown up to bottle up his feelings so well, he’d have bursted out in tears and begged for the divines’ forgiveness right here and now.
just thinking about how he was barely holding himself together made him tear up, but he was quick to wipe his tears away.
“ stendarr must frown upon me; either for aiding you or… everything else i did. ”
Erik cocked an eyebrow at Darinean’s clear discomfort. Damn fucking Vigilantes, hug your fucking kids. He didn’t take offense, though. Not everyone was as comfortable with touching as he was, and he made a point to keep his hands on himself from now on (which he hoped wouldn’t last long. He wanted to go back to Jorvaskrr).
“Fuck, that’s a hell of a long time. I didn’t know they inducted children into their cult.” But then again, he avoided anything that was even indirectly related to religion. Gods were nothing but overpowered, selfish, cruel and arrogant beings that liked to toy with humans and demand worship without giving anything (or barely a scrap from what they take away), to people. He’d once been religious, praying faithfully each day and wearing Shor’s amulet around his neck like a prize, but he’d been a child back then, and he grew to find the beings he loved so much had no care for his well-being or prayers.
He’d normally tell him ‘fuck the gods’, or give a really long rant on why gods, in general, were assholes, but he figured that wasn’t what he needed at the moment - the wound’s too fresh. Besides, he didn’t feel like being blasphemous while surrounded by a dozen of cultists that spilled perhaps as much blood as he did in his lifetime.
“Oh shit,” Erik breathed when he saw the man’s eyes tear up. “Hey, it’s fine, it’s-” he reaches, by reflex to the other’s shoulders but stops midway and wraps his hand around his bowl again. “Shit, kinsman, I’m no religious person, far from it, but shit, if Stendarr’s really about mercy, then he shouldn’t frown on you for either. You spared my life, and the people you killed before was because that cult stuffed your head with hate and gave you a weapon and a target.”
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