Consummation of Glass { Vaet }

[Vaet Qou]

Pride was a tattered flag to Vaet now, for he held no true victory. Even if he had the upper-hand all along - knowing the lands, himself and his foe - there was nothing he could boast about. War had tore a gap into the world, and the seams of the damage would never be repaired. Like a doll coming undone, the filling was scattered every where. There would be no unity any longer. He watched his mother fall before him, and like an invisible arrow, he had now felt the pang of the battle.

He distinguished the falling form, watched as the one who gave him birth, fall. She was a feather out of place in these lands, for she had loved it here. Vaet’s grip on his blade didn’t loosen, for he held tightly, just incase the image thief had any tricks up his sleeve. The warrior kept his blade raised, at an angle, as his eyes watched the stranger’s power flicker out. At first, he had to look closer. Limbs of the other male were sprawled out, motionless, but they were not similar to his own.

There was an obvious relation, and Vaet had wondered if the male attempted to change his identity before falling. Reluctantly, Vaet rose his posture to stand. He silently placed his weapon into his sheath, harnessed to his back. It was a safer environment without any arms, after all.

Taking cautious steps closer to the fey, Vaet moved down into a crouch, now at the male’s side. He had been positioned near the shoulders, aware that if the boy decided to get up and fight again, he would once again have the advantage. For all attacks were mostly focused to come from the torso area. Sweeping his eyes over the desert once, he had glanced down to take a closer look. Xue. Reaching his right hand forward, Vaet placed his fingers upon the fallen fey’s throat, feeling for a pulse.

It was faint, but still there. If Vaet had been any closer to the other male’s crown, the results would have been fatal. A sigh came from the warrior, thankful for the luck that followed the events. His chest moved now, forcing himself to breathe, like the battle had took the ability from him to actually breathe. Topaz eyes continued to stare at this male’s face, his fingers shifted so that he could place his knuckles to Xue’s left cheek.

For some strange reason, he felt attached, as though he knew this awkward copy of himself. Xue knew of him, but Vaet felt lost without the knowledge to share or reminiscence. Possibilities scraped by: what if the rumors of his mother’s affairs were true, and this had been his real father - or was it something he would be unable to grasp until the fallen fey had regained consciousness?