#calling each other on their first name is intimate in a driadlin society

[tryingtimi]

66💕

His Tools

Land of All by Woodkid. The perfect one for another Urien scene from Darmons POV now.

Context: After the Turning of the Metalsea, Urien took over the capital and threw most people into prison. Darmon faced this fate too when they arrived back with Syon. She, however got capture by Urien, while Darmon eventually broke out. This is where Urien reveals his true nature and goals, close to the end of Book 2.

DARMON AND SYONEHLIA | BLOOD | VIOLANCE | WC: 655

It was dawn again.

The last time Darmon had seen anything but the dungeon’s walls, the Sun shone dimly over them and now, when he finally broke out of the prison, he’d been welcomed with the same pink-orange scenery. As if a day hadn’t gone by.

It was dawn again, but nothing was near the same as before.

Darmon carefully lifted himself with his crystal he was squatting on. The Eval palace’s hallway had been large enough to get lost in the heights of the ceiling. Slowly dying light brightened his pathway when he finally reached the prince’s room; its door yawning wide open before him.

“Look, Syonehlia.”

Darmon stopped for a moment. Prince Urien’s voice still made his muscles tighten whenever he heard it. The directness he was addressing Syonehlia only multiplied this rarely experienced feeling, however.

“Look out there, darling. Look at them,” he purred almost sweetly. His voice was not quite dripping from honey, but the thickness of venom.

Darmon set his jaw, and lifted himself, even more, blending into the darkness of the heights. Then, he carried himself inside the room.

It was vast, kingly with a large bed at one of the walls, baldachin hanging over it. And one end of the chain is attached to the wall.

The clinking links guided Darmon’s eyes to the balcony where Urien stood, facing the sitting Syonehlia and looking down at the captial. Darmon couldn’t see his face as the prince had his back to him, but he could see her. Heavy shackles hung upon Syonehlia’s ankles, her back straight, face stone cold. She still held her head high, piercing gaze not staring at the prince, but instead at the floor, however. Darmon gripped the crystal under him, his palm already heating up from the pressure. He never saw her like that.

And the tension only built in his muscles, when he realized her hands were free.

Urien suddenly grabbed Syonehlia’s face, forcefully turning it where he was looking at. Thin stream of blood trickled down her squashed cheeks when his sharpened nails dug into them.

“Look,” that bastard raised his voice, his ears sharpening as well. “What do you see, hm? Tell me.”

Rattling echoed through the room, as she steadied herself with her legs to not fall from the chair. She grabbed his hand, eyes flaming, nails clawing into his skin. Urien didn’t seem to care.

A crystal rose beside Darmon’s face, ready to aim and strike. His concentration didn’t falter, not even for a blink of an eye.

“Tell me,” Urien snarled, pulling her face farther outside.

Syonehlia visibly tensed up.

“People.”

So hoarse. Her voice sounded so painstakingly hoarse.

Pain struck from Darmon’s nails as he gripped his crystal even more, when Urien let her go by tossing her back at the chair. Darmon’s aim needed to be precise.

“People.” Half of the prince’s face revealed itself as he stared at her. He was sneering; mocking her. “Generous, are you? With those who need our guidance to live their life. Those that can execute only one thing in the shadow of perfection. Those who find one, single task to specialize at more than enough. People,” he scoffed. “Don’t you see, my darling? They’re no people. Not even close.”

He leaned closer, his smile widening at the side.

“I am the hand and they are my tools.”

One glance. Only one glance from Syonehlia should have been needed for Darmon to let his crystal loose. To let this madness end.

His crystals cracked ever so quietly under the force of his grip.

And so the dull grayness of early nightfall conquered the last ray of dying light, when instead of her, Darmon saw the prince’s piercing, pearl-white gaze jumping at him from the corner of his eyes.