The door to the courtyard opens.
Slyn looks up from the base of Achilles' statue where he stays most days, expecting to see someone else paying their respects...
Instead, he sees Dunite. And she's staring right at him.
His tiny snake head lifts as a cold fear travels down his body. He wouldn't trust her in this state normally, but something about her face fills him with dread.
This isn't normal. Usually she just gives Slyn a glare in passing... but no, this is a hatred that would have him dead on the spot if looks could kill.
Something tells him he has to get away, and get away fast. He turns and starts crawling away, faster than he ever has in this state... but as Dunite marches forward, it's evident he has no hope of escaping her.
She picks up Slyn without any regard, the wooden joins of her fingers pinching his body. He hisses, mouth clamping down on her hands desperately, over and over as she walks out of the courtyard. The gummed bites leave no damage except an ache in his mouth.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he hears Dunite mutter as she carries him down the hall. Slyn looks around frantically, hissing out for help before her thumb clamps down over his mouth. Nothing releases her grip, no amount of thrashing and flailing and panicking... and finally, they reach the oh-so familiar door to the dungeon.
The musty darkness sends every bad memory he's ever had of being down here cycling through his brain like a video. All the times he's locked people away and beaten them, all the times he's been tortured himself, being locked up and isolated for longer than he can remember fill his mind at once, and the tears start. What is she doing? What did he do? Why did she bring him here? The panic starts to steal his breath as composure slips out of mental grasp, recollections of endless pain and anguish threatening to overthrow any remaining rationality.
"Quit fuckin' crying, you brought this upon yourself," Dunite whispers through gritted teeth as she throws him down into the coldest, darkest corner.
Slyn shakes off the impact of the throw, blinking in the dark to see Dunite sift through her bag. He trembles, paralyzed in the cold of his former prison, wishing he could scream or hiss loud enough for someone to hear.
And out of her bag, Dunite pulls out the head of a halberd, broken off at its wooden handle.
Slyn's eyes widen. It's the same halberd he used to kill her what feels like a year ago.
Dunite's eyes gleam against the ever so slight glint of the blade, her hand shaking as she holds the broken wooden handle. Slowly, she turns her head to the terrified little snake.
"What. Scared?"
He doesn't respond.
"Yeah, well, guess what. So was I. So was everyone."
She puts her hands on her knees, face wrinkling with disgust at Slyn like he's the most despicable creature in the whole world... and to her, he most certainly is.
"You know, my parents warned me about certain people. Greedy people. Selfish people. Abusive people who'd kill and hurt and relish in others' pain for one reason or another. Now doesn't that just sound familiar?"
Dunite scoffs, pacing back and forth. Slyn stays in the corner, paralyzed with fear and not daring to make a sound.
"I don't understand Icia," she continues. "To be honest, I think her whole idea of redemption is fucking crazy. I mean... you?? Redeeming yourself?? YOU KILLED ME!!!!
"And not even only that!!! You abused people, you stole stuff, you enforced Hexe's rule-"
Slyn flinches at the name.
"Oh don't pretend you're scared of her, you were her HUSBAND. You loved her, you did everything for her... for what, so you could be a 'good husband'? Is that what you wanted? To be a good husband? What about being a good person, huh?! A good KING?!"
Dunite crosses her arms. "Let's face it, Slyn. You never should've been king. Icia would've been a better ruler than you- hell, I think anyone would've been better than an abuser who enforced a tyrant's rule."
Slyn doesn't respond. He tries, though. It comes out as nothing more than a desperate hiss as he watches from the corner, paralyzed.
"... bet you know what's gonna happen now, Slyn. I'm gonna kill you. I'm gonna drive the fucking blade down your neck and cut your head off."
She stops pacing and stands over him again, rage continuing to build along with a hint of anxiety. Is this really the best idea? Is she really doing the right thing?
Of course you are, Dunite, she thinks. You're killing a villain. Saving the kingdom. Getting your revenge.
"You're gonna go to the void. And you're going to see exactly why it's so horrifying, and exactly why I've been wanting you to experience it. 'Cause you don't know the HELL that being in the void is. It's the worst experience ever. It feels like being surrounded and filled with... hate. If hate had a feeling. The hatred of everyone else around you."
"That's how it feels. And when you fucking get there, you're gonna feel MY hate. You're gonna feel AKLATAN'S hate. SAMMY'S hate. THE COOKS. EVERYONE. AND THAT'S ALL YOU FUCKING DESERVE!!!"
She lowers herself, vision red with wrath. "Aren't you excited for that? To feel how much everyone really hates you once you get to the void? I know I sure am. 'Cause let's face it, no amount of words can describe how much I hate you, how much I hate what you did to us, your voice, your relationship to Icia, everything."
Slyn hisses again. And for a moment, Dunite pauses... only to burst out laughing.
No... cackling.
A dreaded cackle that sounds almost identical to the one he thought was forever gone.
"Is that supposed to be an APOLOGY?! ARE YOU SORRY NOW?!" She yells, with no regards about if anyone outside can hear her or not. "AFTER EVERYTHING, ONLY NOW YOU'RE SORRY?!?! YOU DON'T GET TO BE SORRY NOW, IT WON'T UNDO WHAT YOU DID!
"IT DOESN'T CHANGE THE PAIN OF DYING!!! IT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FEAR OF SEEING EVERYONE ABUSED!!! IT DOESN'T CHANGE THE FIGHTS, THE HATE, THE ABUSE, THE TORTURE, IT DOESN'T CHANGE OR UNDO ANYTHING YOU DID!!!! AND IT SURE AS ALL FUCK DOESN'T MAKE YOU WORTH FORGIVING!!! YOU'RE NOT SORRY, YOU'RE JUST AFRAID!!! AFRAID LIKE ALL OF US!!!"
Dunite's yells echo through the dungeon, Slyn trembling with each word. Tears fall down his face and body, blurring his already terrible vision.
Dunite pauses for a moment, heavily breathing as both hands take hold of the halberd head.
"I'm done with this," she whispers, stamping her foot on his tail. Slyn shrieks with pain. "You've heard enough. And if I were to say everything I wanted to say to you, we'd be here too damn long. You've already lived long enough."
Slyn stares for a moment before the fear in his face softens. Ever so slowly, he straightens his neck and lays his head on the stone below. His eyes squeeze shut.
Dunite lifts the halberd blade above her head.
"Good riddance, Slyn. I'll never forget how you made my second chance of life a true, complete hell."
And with a final grunt, lifting the blade higher just for a split second before bringing it down....
....... something falls on Slyn's body.
He flinches, thinking it to be the blade.... but no.
It's small. Wet.
A droplet.
There's no pain. No sound of the blade clashing on the stone. No splattering sounds. Nothing.
He pries his eyes open as another little wet droplet falls on him.
Dunite has frozen, the blade stopped right at her head and trembling in her grasp. Her lip quivers as light green tears drip down her face, falling onto the dirty stone below.
There's an expression full of pain Slyn's never seen in her eyes.
"..... I can't do it. Why...?" she whispers.
After a moments pause, she swings the blade down and aside, the metal flying across the dungeon until it clangs against the opposite wall. Dunite bursts with a frustrated yell.
"... why can't I do it??" she asks sharply. "I've wanted to kill you for so long, why.... why can't I do it...?"
Slyn doesn't dare move or open his mouth as Dunite sinks to her knees, more drops of peridot trickling down her face.
Her voice catches on sobs as she stares at her hands. "... I'm so mad," she mutters. "I don't understand. I can't stand you. I hate you. I want you dead. Why can't I kill you....?"
There's a pause, as if she's expecting him to answer.
The rage and adrenaline dissipates as she stares at the unused blade behind her, not a streak or drop of blood dirtying the metal like she was hoping.
Is she... relieved to see the blade clean? No... surely not... right?
"... Icia wants you alive. I don't get it. She'd be so upset if you died.... why...? She fought against you for so long, why does she want you alive now?"
... is it because you're related to her...? Is that why? You're suddenly family and she's so desperate to have a normal life here that she'll just... forgive you for everything?"
She pauses for a response that she knows won't come, a louder sob escaping her lips.
"... I can't do it 'cause of her. You better be... be fucking grateful I love Icia, 'c-cause if I didn't then..."
She stops in her sentence. The thought of how Icia would react if she went through it sends chills down Dunite's spine.
".... I still want you dead, though. I want you dead so bad. I was supposed to have a good life here, I was supposed to live happily and never have to worry 'bout death again... and then H-Hexe came, and you..."
Her voice trails off, and not a word follows. Only choked, shaky cries.
Pull yourself together, Dunite!!! She berates herself internally. What are you doing?! Don't cry in front of him, you're supposed to be the strong one here!
But she can't bring herself to grab the blade and finish what she started.
It's all over.
Slyn's so dizzy and shaky from adrenaline that it takes him a moment to realize exactly what happened. It confuses him as well, after everything he's done to... well, everyone. Why can't she kill him?
He couldn't entirely blame her if she changed her mind now. A part of him kind of wishes she did. Because she's right. All of this is his fault.
She has every right to kill him.
"... I hate you," Dunite whimpers. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you..." over, and over, and over as more tears fall onto the ground in front of Slyn.
The snake looks down, wishing he could assure her that he feels exactly the same about himself. He's killed. He's tortured. He's abused. He's humiliated. He's done everything and more, all for what? For a fake wife? What was he thinking?
The question of what to do now slowly rises through Slyn's hazy thoughts. The door probably isn't locked, he could find a hole and wriggle out... but oddly enough, he doesn't want to leave Dunite here, alone and sobbing in the damp darkness. How would that make him better than any other time he's done it?
The snake hesitantly crawls forward, hoping she both reacts and doesn't react at the same time. Again, he wouldn't be surprised or mad if she did.
Dunite's eyes squint open as he crawls onto the puff of her dress and curls into a spiral as he's done in so many other places. Only once does he make eye contact, a soft, weak, exhausted stare that is slowly broken as he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.
Regret floods through Dunite's body.
... I was going to kill him, she thinks with increasing horror. I want to kill him, I want him dead, but- Icia... and Raina... and Yume- oh my god, what am I doing?
Her quiet sobs grow louder as she leans down, head resting in her hands on the stone. A few small tears stream down Slyn's face and soak into her dress, guilt filling his whole being. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for him. They wouldn't be fighting, they wouldn't be screaming, they wouldn't be crying. No one would be.
Dunite turns her head to face Slyn.
"... I don't know what you've done to me," she whispers with bitter, regretful tears. "I was supposed to kill you and make everything better for everyone. Why did you have to go and make people love you...?"
Those words stab Slyn like a knife.
".... why did you have to go and make me not want to go through with it...?"
She turns her face back into her hands, the peridot tears seeping through her fingers.
"... I hate you. I hate what you've done to the Kingdom. I hate what you've done to Icia. I hate what you've done to me. I hate it. I hate you..."
"I hate you...."
"... I hate you."
The dungeon door creaks open, and the familiar sound of light, sharp steps down the stone makes Dunite sit straight up.
The light shines from behind the figure, gleaming against her light blue... no- ice blue hair. Her silver eye is wide with horror, going from the halberd blade strewn across the cell to the puppet girl sat in the opposite corner.
"... Dunite..?." Icia utters as she starts to approach. More tears pool down Dunite's face as she hears the terrified tone.
"What did you do....?"
Dunite opens her mouth, only to break into tears once again. "I'm sorry.... I couldn't do it, but I'm sorry...." is all she manages to say.
Icia starts to ask what she means, only to have her voice trail off as she stands over her friend....
... and the little, sleeping snake curled up on her dress.
