11. Ultracrepidarian
// Not Janijaire, for once! This features another OC, Leossix.
All of the words went in one ear and almost literally out the other. Almost, because he didn’t simply ignore the words--but he did… forget. He didn’t mean to. Yet everything of value that seemed so important at the time was quickly lost to the fog that seemed to take up so very much of his memory mere bells after he heard it.
He knew Alvault was wrong. That his vision of the world is warped far beyond understanding. That the noble is sick in a way that can’t be cured by medicine alone.
He tries to talk about it, alone in the chamber he’s been given in this place. Lotus? The name doesn’t matter. An inn settled in a land an ocean away from everything he’s ever known. His sister is only one door down, safe, but it’s a small comfort as he tries to sift through all the things he suddenly has awareness of.
“Just, magical shit,” he groans, curling on his side as much as those still-healing shots will allow while he knocks his knuckles against his forehead. “I know the shapes. I could draw them out.”
This is a rehearsal. The things he remembers have all come at once, he couldn’t replicate anything if there was a gun to his head--and there very well may be. It’s what he’d done, threatened, so perhaps it’s as much as he deserves. But he’s always been an exceptional liar. He can fake his way through this as well as anything else, and he has to--if they were done with him, they wouldn’t be keeping him here. It’s certainly not out of kindness.
“I know what they mean,” he repeats, quiet, practicing. Lying. “I can help make sense of it. I can help.”
He can’t, really, but he can pretend.