#due to the king and others who follow that belief for the A.byss

[twilightichor]

✧ @guhamun asked: "What if they kissed?" ( i gently and tentatively place percival here )

Fiends of the Abyss scatter everywhere within Khaenri'ahn borders. By all accounts, they should have no place here as it was alleged oftentimes that they are to remain in the only sea they know of: the stars. Slashing them back to the void whence they came from is but one step closer to find out where his brother has been abducted first, where these monsters truly came from second. Deeper down still than where Khaenri'ah is located, there lies a maze that no one dares trespass for a reason. But the king did, and so the princess did alongside Vedrfolnir.

His noble act to gather every soldier in sight who can rise their weapon to fight and unite them under a single banner, irregardless of what their main mission may be was merely a means to reach towards his goal. But unbeknownst to Twilight Sword, breaking the shackles that tied every soldier to their own platoon gave them the freedom of action without thinking, without having to wait for the orders of others superiors to them in order to fight. Khaenri'ah was under siege, so it mattered not if their post was at the capital guarding the palace and the gentry living within its vicinities or sentinel knights guarding the borders of the kingdom. Everyone had a family of their own to protect, a homeland, an identity that were threatened.

Now that the path was cleared and the worst of it handled, all there was left for Dáinsleif to do was to venture in the vowels of this world. To the place that many in their delirium have described as something worse than hell, if the Abyss were to be ascribed such descriptor by those who feared it instead of offering worship. Common sense would dictate not to wander deeper without treating his injury —superficial in comparison to what his brother must be enduring now, ignorant still that he would forever lose his eyesight in this event—, even less spent as he is from the arduous battles against great foes they have never faced before. But right when he's about to delve into the depths of the Abyss, the call of his name alongside the title that precedes it stops him on his tracks and so he turns on his heels to see Percival.

A knowing silence befalls betwixt them, more understanding and cognizant of the gravity of the situation at hand as well as the emotional weight that would carry in their hearts if the root cause of this disaster than verbalizing it —Dáinsleif's would run deeper still, were he unable to save his older brother—. And yet, there is something about the other's gaze that fills his heart with unease.

I am not as noble or righteous as you make me be, so please don't—

Don't look at me like I am.

As if aware that he may break whatever illusion he has of him, the quasi-quiescence is silenced in an instant when Percival closes the remaining distance between them, his hands holding his face to bring him in for a kiss. Sapphire irises widen a fraction, his arms grow limp by his side paralyzed in shock and confusion as one more variable to consider materializes within his mind. But ah, how to ignore the moment of peace this offers to his now stilling heart, a fire giving rise to an inexplicable warmth where it shouldn't be under these circumstances. For a moment, Dáinsleif allows himself to close his eyes albeit briefly until Percival pulls away, the frown in his eye telling enough without need for words.

The lunarescent knight senses distress coming from him, but also hope. Hope that he may come back in one peace and that all of this stays as the nightmare it has become. His gloved hand rises to cup one side of his face, his thumb running over his fair eyebrow to smoothen the frown written in his face. Roseate lips press slightly to chase away the tingling he still feels. Strange, it's as if his lips never left his to begin with. Is this what it feels like to kiss someone? Azure eyes soften momentarily before the hand touching his face falls by his side. ◜We will talk about this later.◞

It was a bold move. A very bold move, Percival. You should know that us pure-blood Khaenri'ahns are expected to preserve our bloodline—

Nevertheless, be that as it may, Dáinseif finds himself uncaring about this aspect of their society. What should be a scandal to him no longer fazes him, perhaps as a result of his heartbreak to their king and to those who would follow him unconditionally, going as far as to plunge their own homeland into darkness. Twilight Sword turns and heads towards the hollow illuminated with a suspicious portal, then he turns his head one last time to look at Percival. A silent vow that he will return.

◜Take care of them.◞

Of our people, those who we've been fighting for all this time. Wait for me.