❛ 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ❜ — Marth & Michalis.
The rain was the heaviest of torrents Michalis had seen yet, and each splatter of the dewy droplets atop his broad shoulders and garnet locks seeped through, trickling atop his now cool flesh. And yet, Michalis welcomed the sensation of coolness that flooded his garb, finding it necessary to stalk to cover only when the thought of forsaking his current attire arose in his mind. But, alas, already was he drenched, and saving what remained of his faculty attire was but a useless hope.
And then it came, the bewilderment of his name upon the tongue of another, another Michalis had come to loathe.
He had not expected his expedition of leisurely trekking in search of peace away from the monastery to bring to him the presence of none other than the man he desired to be rid of most.
"Marth."
Michalis stilled, and atop his boot he turned, a glower set upon his face like stone, even as the rain droplets trickled down. No longer did the Macedonian royal care for the serenity of the rain and the petrichor that would follow, for far were they now from his mind at the sight of the very soul who had pried victory from him.
"I have," Michalis drawled lowly, his head tilted at an inquisitive angle, glowering down at the man with a quirked brow. "And the sentiment will not be returned."
The niceties, oh how Michalis loathed them. Had not he, the great Macedonian King-- and dare others say tyrant-- brought upon the other man great peril and strife? Had not Michalis slaughtered ally upon ally of the king's? And that man dared to extend the frivolities of pleasantries towards Michalis?
A fool.
"Perhaps..."
—we must move forward; this, the Altean prince took it upon himself to say as often as his own name.
Uttered during the sorrowful perorations of his eulogies for the soldiers and civilians who lost their lives in an unfair struggle. Then during the newfound age of peace when it came time to look beyond the fresh graves. Rebuild around them the liberated freeholds their blood had bought from Dolhr and its allies, Hardin and imperial Archanea.
When it truly mattered, there was not a moment where he ever clung to the past when it was the future that would gain him more. That was the sort of boy Marth of Altea was. Naturally, he has casted aside his animosity towards former enemies for far less. The man, and king, is not really changed.
After their initial battle at Macedon aerie, it had been Marth who shed history for a prolific new coat, but he himself had not borne any expectation that Michalis would do the same. Some men did not ever forget the losses and names they suffered. Within some men burned a pride so fierce that it could not be pried from their fingers unless loosened first by death. The former king of Macedon was no doubt such a man and more; he had escaped his own end and come to Marth nearly the same, after all.
—and if Marth has not changed, and Michalis has not changed, then...
He meets the sullen response with a nod, even a slight smile. He has expected the reaction as much; though in oceanic eyes illuminates a faint flash of pleasure. Perhaps, says Michalis, bespeaking an inch, and Marth sees it for its priceless mile in the making.
The Altean king leads them into a denser sector of the hurst, clouded nearly black overhead by the overgrown canopy, more wet than dry, but dryer still than the rest of the forest just beyond the monastery. The wisdom in waiting out the downpour is obvious. His eyes snap briefly to a flicker of movement low in the branches, a thrush that has taken with them to the same shade with greater fear for heaven’s violence than man’s. With that, he reclines down across a moldy log across from the other with hands perched over his knees.
“ That we did not ever meet in Archanea in such a way I find it regretful, Michalis. Even here, I cannot accommodate you in my home with bread and wine as I would like— though even if I could, I imagine your lodgings as a professor are far grander than mine! “ He laughs, lowers himself because he does not mind it at all, and because he suspects Michalis will be pleased in even the most trivial of victories over Marth. Perhaps this in turn will cleverly open his heart for the questions he intends next. “ Now, if I may ask. What finds you here? “
@reverenceofmacedon
