Broken Rule [Silvar]

[Alexci Dominque]

Midnight? While it was marking the dawn of twilight, Alexci was unlike most of his kind, for he did not feel compelled to close his eyes at nightfall. No matter where he went, darkness would not be able to consume him. Yet, it was the guilt of his life that caused him to run forth with this adrenaline. It was a shortcoming after all, to live with those scars, and yet have them be invisible. This was not a night to confess his mistakes nor his sins, but he would let his lack of value on his life to be shown. He had not been so ill-fated to actually enter the castle before, but it was the previous events in his kingdom to cause him to do it so.

Alexci did not want to be discovered by the female’s face; he did not want it to haunt him further. Not to mention he had that little boy’s memories wrapped all in him, those tears -- something he could not fathom. As he walked down one of the halls, his eyes adorned behind a dark mask took in the area. There were corridors everywhere, easily distracting to the mind. But it mere logic to make it easy to navigate, where one stair lead to another, became another, and went else where.

The light fey’s right hand lifted and he brushed off his left shoulder. He had been wise enough to go with their new military uniforms. For the border control was flimsy, and he was too fast. To make matters worse, Alex could’ve stolen a dark fey’s powers and memories and easily meld into their culture. However, he had not taken it that far, for he wasn’t prepared to pretend he was a dark fey. What surprised him the most was that there wasn’t really anyone in the kingdom, as though it had been deserted.

Deciding the upper levels were probably best for personal space, he had scouted out a peculiar corridor. It was a room, darker than most, not a tinge of color. Yet, for some reason the room appeared to be untouched, yet lively -- like a flame had just been put out. He was unsure what compelled him to enter this room. It seemed to belong to someone important. Alex lifted a hand and ran it along the wood-like frame of the walls, stopping to stare at lone cabinet.

His loyalty to his kingdom told him to unveil the privacy there, but he continued forward. The window was far more interesting, the moonlight catching his eyes. He got closer to the window -- pegging it as an escape route -- before reaching over to the hinge and popping it open. The moonlight sunk into the dark room, and Alex craned his head back, gazing at the lonesome light. He had been smart enough to control his powers, but now his eyes drank up the light, reflecting nothing but white over the dark glass of his eyes.

For all the climax he had envisioned for getting into the castle, he was rather upset to see no activity.

[Silvar]

Midnight. There were hours left to the 'day' of a Dark Fey, and it was for all intents and purposes 'midday' for them, or at least, the ones who slept. For Silvar, it was his thirty seventh hour without, and he had gotten his training in earlier in the night, taken care of business that needed taking care of and dismissed himself from the rest of the politics and social bullshit.

His full intent as he walked the familiar path toward his room (hardly used save for bathing, dressing, and the sleep that came at such indeterminable intervals) was to retire from society early and perhaps get some of that elusive rest. The castle was quieter than usual, a fact that did not elude him, but with recent events the politicians would be locked away in their meetings, the silence of the rest of the Fey within these walls likely due to uncertainty. It would take a few weeks, at least, for things to regain a semblance of normality, after all, considering.

He probed the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, tasting the blood there and making a note to himself not to go easy on Relv next time. The cut on his cheek still stung, but he had bested her nonetheless, and as he rounded the corner into the hall that led to his room he drew his thumb over the wound, blood shining silver in the moonlight coming in from the windows. That was a new development.

His fingers worked the tie loose from his hair and he held it loosely between his teeth as he halfassedly worked his fingers through the tangles and nudged open the door to his room, unfastening the last clasp on his uniform jacket as the door clicked shut in the silence and he raised his gaze from the task.

At first glance he felt a surge of irritation, eyes narrowing at the sight of a soldier in his quarters. The walls seemed to come alive, but only just, a shifting of the darkness in the room to mirror his displeasure but there was something off, something familiar and something very, very out of place and as his lips parted to speak he saw it.

The glow of light, just the barest hint of it visible from where he stood but the mask, the mask was much more visible and for a moment all he could do was stare. It simply wasn't possible. But it was, wasn't it? And an almost bemused sort of chuckle let itself loose from his throat. What was he supposed to think of this?

"Do you have a death wish, coming here?" and he hesitated for a moment, the Fey's name feeling like the guilt of a grave transgression, "Alexci."

[Alexci Dominque]

A presence entered the room. It would have been in his best interest to take the escape route, possibly injuring -- maybe even killing -- himself a long the way. His eyes dropped from the moon and he stared into the vast darkness below. There was nothing he could see, and the uncertainty of the darkness kept him from leaping. Yet, if he was in a uniform of the dark, what would he have to really worry about? This was a room after all, a living space, bed and all. No matter what fey he was, the intrusion of personal space was already engraved. There was no turning back now.

Within his line of vision, he saw her face, and it was in an instant. He had deserved to take the unpredictable route, and hope that he would die. His fiber of being disallowed such atrocious acts and he folded his arms over his chest, as though he belonged in this area. As though this was his room. Slowly, he turned around now, facing the owner of the room. The light that he had once drank up now settled upon his back, making him appear as a silhouette. Unlike meetings before, there wasn’t a sign of light within his gaze, and he was just as dark as night.

He sank back a little now, remembering the dark fey from before. Alex had his lower back to the window sill. There should have been some sort of humor from the light fey, that the two would meet like this. (Or perhaps that out of all rooms, he had picked Silvar’s). Yet, there wasn’t a stir from him. While he had picked his allegiances well, he felt as though he did not have the rightful place to return to his home. These days he had hardly recognized himself, or the people he was meeting. Alex only found destruction in his wake.

Finally, a glow came forth. Alex’s left shoulder seemed to dropped, and the light of the moon picked up on a stone, hanging from a silver chain adorned around the light fey’s neck. Without a moment of hesitation, a hand came up and he removed the mask from his face, but the darkness was still shrouding -- creating a second veil. Like the mask was garbage now, he dropped the mask on the floor, as though silently surrendering.

“Silvar,” he greeted, but it was a sort of plain, uneventful sort of tone. There was no spark of life from him, as though he had certainly came here for a death wish. Who or what did he exactly come here for? From this point of view, he could see the warrior clearly, and he had noticed that the dark fey appeared weak, as though susceptible for anything.

[Silvar]

It was ironic, in a way, that he would see the Light Fey here of all places, but beyond that it was irritating the way Alexci had made it the entire expanse of the Dark Kingdom and ended up here. What were the guards doing? And yet Silvar had seen the boy's speed for himself, seen only a hint of the dark potential that was being displayed before him now.

And it was apparent there, the darkness he'd caught a glimpse of that day, the light gone from the boy's eyes and the uniform seemed to suit him well. Curious, this Light Fey, more and more so each time they met and the corners of his lips twitched slightly upward. Certainly the darkest Light he'd ever seen and it was so intriguing even though to be so intrigued was to face certain exile if he were caught.

Crimson eyes flitted briefly to the glint of light, and as Alexci's hand rose he followed that motion, and while his vision in the dark was naturally better than a fey not born of the Dark, the light of the moon at the boy's back gave a contrast that made it difficult to make out his features despite the removal of the mask (and he remembered how he'd wanted to see). There was no light in Alexci's eyes, no smile in his voice and he had to wonder what was going through the mind of a Light Fey stolen into Castle Attikka.

He felt a brief surge of something predatory, but this was a completely different sort of prey and he wanted something else. Despite his fatigue his steps were easy, fluid as he approached the Light that seemed so cast in shadow, though he kept a moderate distance. The Warrior was less on edge now than he had been then, had his thoughts in order and quiet, but from the reaction Alexci had garnered from him before he didn't trust himself getting too close just yet (and if the urge to lean in and look wasn't enough of a warning...).

"That uniform is strangely fitting for you," he commented idly, path adjusted so that he ended up a couple of feet to the boy's left. "You wear it quite well..." The casual nature of it was laced with something darker, though, and he did not take his eyes off of him. Alexci from what he had seen was rather predictably unpredictable, after all. He didn't seem to feel the need just yet to seriously question the why of his presence here.

[Alexci Dominque]

The approach of Silvar didn’t elicit any fear from Alexci. He knew that his powers, in such darkness, would be hindered -- but by no means would he count himself as defenseless. It had been subtle nights that he decided to find information on the Dark court, and it was far more obvious that he had ran into the warrior. Rumors, tales and simple gossip had been enough for his ear. Yet, with his presence here, he could only fathom what the other male had felt. Alexci had fooled the guards, passed civilians and even strolled right into the castle as though it was a public facility.

While Alexci’s power had been vast, he had hardly taken any recognition to how dangerous he was. After all, he wandered into these lands to see how far he could get -- not to see how defenses, the grounds or private functions worked. If the ruler of Light had even caught wind of his appearance on these lands, he would know that he would be exiled. Much like Alex himself exiled others. The reality of his past mistakes had sobered him immensely, and he had welcomed himself here to see if it was time for a new home, perhaps.

Silvar came to his left and naturally, Alex turned his head toward the male’s direction. When he moved the right side of his face hit the moonlight. From this angle Silvar would be able to make out the structure of half his face, of the timid gold hanging around black, and where his cheek bones defined into a smooth line that reached his jawbone. He was always compared to a statue, and it appeared more convincing with the apathetic look hanging on Alex’s features.

He listened to the warrior’s words and gave a little nod. There was something pursuing on Alex’s face, trying to snake its way in, but it was only a phantom of a smile. It could have been ‘normal’ for the light fey to reach a hand out to Silvar in offering, but he was gazing through another persons memories. It drove him to the brink of a walking coma. With the serious multitude from Alex, there was no way a brink of light could appear through his eyes.

“It’s fitting,” he finally admitted, moving his other arm out to expose the length of the dark sleeve. Alex’s head craned a little, acting as though the meeting between the two were of friends, not enemies. “More than one way, anyways.” His implications were not for secrecy, and by sharing this he had already exposed that he had questioned his faith in his allegiance. Moving his head up again, he glanced at Silvar, mouth rigid, as though waiting for something.

[Silvar]

There were countless reasons as to why the Light Fey (and despite curiosity he had not delved deeper into his potential status) was here, each one more incriminating than the last and far too many that would not allow the Warrior to let Alexci leave. Provided he could hold him here, of course, because Silvar wasn't cocky enough to believe he could if the boy truly wanted to leave.

As expected, though, that head had turned, and he took in the parts of the boy's face he hadn't seen before, took in the look of apathy and felt a sudden twist at the memory of blood. Despite that look he felt no disappointment in what had been revealed, though the mystery was gone, because Alexci was still an enigma, and he wanted to figure it out, felt that urge rise again and in this bizarre situation gave up on squashing it down.

The subtle changes were not unnoticed, every nuance of this fey something he picked up and processed. The informality of the way they both seemed to treat the situation, while entirely against everything he'd been raised to know and everything he'd grown to be, was something that he didn't question, not after the thought he'd put into the situation. He had simply come to terms over those two simple meetings that this was Alexci, and nothing about him or the way he seemed to react to him was ever going to be typical.

Then there was the way that the Light Fey referred to the uniform he wore, such an atrocity to his own origin. The slight curve of his lips twisted sharply then, and he tilted his head to the side a little, thinking. He had wanted to drag this bright thing down into the darkness, to dirty that brilliance, and yet...

"You're rather Dark today, for a Light Fey..." he murmured, and when Alexci did not offer his hand he almost didn't think of it. There were many things that crossed his mind, many things he wanted to do in that moment, and while he knew that many of them he could be exiled for, it was not that reason that kept him from acting upon them. He stepped closer rather than doing anything else, though, leaned in for the closer look he'd denied himself in the beginning and boldly used two fingers to lift the Light's chin (an act of physical contact the reasoning behind didn't quite make sense to him).

"Why are you here, Alexci?" he questioned, straightforward but not demanding, merely inquisitive, though the name slid off of his tongue smoothly, darkly, and tasted something sinfully sweet.

[Alexci Dominque]

A touch from the dark fey was of surprise, for it was his fault for not paying attention to the movements around the castle. He had really came here for a death wish, to alarm all his enemies and perhaps cause a war. Was it out of jealously, hurt, regret, or boredom? All of his thoughts never made sense, and it gave him a headache. Oh, but it was those fingers that caused his head to lift slightly. His eyes were staring back at crimson, and at the mention of light, there was a sudden glow coming from his eyes. For all the control he tried to maintain; for the simplicity and sanity, it had broke like a thin thread.

The glow from the light fey’s eyes were natural, mimicking the moonlight that laid upon his back. A simple movement came from Alex, as he rose a hand so that his fingers could wrap around the digits near to his chin. He was holding the dark fey’s hand now, and it wasn’t a light grasp at all. Alex was being firm in his gesture, and while his mouth had been dead-set before -- there was a shadow of a smile now. What had compelled him truly to come this far from home?

There was no secret mission. All he came here to see, was a mirror of himself. These powers were not his own, nor were his memories -- what was left of him was a mask of a murderer. In this area, he knew he didn’t need a mask to walk around with, there was no reason to hide his atrocious acts. Perhaps this was the reason why he had made it into the castle so easily.

He stepped closer now, allowing the space between the two to close. “Just came here for the thrill,” he replied quietly, barely a whisper, as though there were fey wandering the halls from outside the room. Perhaps he was well aware of the impersonal attachment the two had, or the way that Silvar seemed to tense up -- even quiet, around Alex. It had given him a sense of power he had not felt else where.

It was somewhat of the truth, but there was something more. He had wanted to confirm a rumor with his own eyes, but he couldn’t see much of anything in this kingdom. Alex’s lids lifted slightly, as he leaned his face in closer to Silvar’s, the light of his gaze casting a ray upon crimson. “Not going to kill me?”

[Silvar]

There it was, that familiar glow, and the corners of Silvar's mouth twitched slightly in reaction to it. He found it easy to look at, despite how violently his mind and nerves had reacted to it the first time he'd seen it and how out of place it was here in the heart of the Dark kingdom. Perhaps it was because that glow was so much like the moonlight pouring in the window that he was almost transfixed by it.

But the Light Fey's hand gripping his own caused a tension and an ease, a distraction like the upturn of too pretty lips and the Warrior thought that he should not have instigated physical contact. Oh, no, he should have done what he should have done, but who knew what that was just then, memories flickering just beneath the surface and he remembered why he should have killed, should have kept his distance (all too late).

It was a strange feeling as Alexci moved closer, the whisper from the boy's lips sounding like a dark secret and his eyes lidded a fraction, lips parting the barest amount needed to exhale. The reason sounded so fitting, though, despite the fact that it seemed in ways incomplete. A fool's errand, but a thrill he was sure it should be to make it here. Without the glow of the Light Fey's eyes he seemed to blend in so perfectly, after all.

He found his hand relaxed in that hold while the rest of him seemed so perfectly on the edge of something dangerous in an entirely different way than he normally was. He idly wondered if the boy was aware of it, but how could he not be? Even at their last meeting it was painfully obvious how much Alexci seemed to affect him, how not himself this fey made him, and it was dangerous indeed, this proximity. And the Light Fey simply kept closing the distance, breath upon his face and a question that was in the end so very, very absurd.

"You know better," he breathed out, because even if he'd wanted to (and how he'd wanted to at first, even at second), he knew the probability was low that he could, even though at the stir of things the darkness in the room seemed to shift uneasily. How pathetic he felt, falling for the same damn trap all over again, and his lax hand shifted, out of Alexci's grasp to wrap round the boy's wrist with the upward curve of his lips, a devilish sort of smirk.

"And I can think of plenty of better things to do than attempt to rid you of your life..."

[Alexci Dominque]

It had taken only seconds to see that Silvar was not a fey that would come to hate him, but the light fey had never predicted such outcomes. Never in the years that he lived, dared he to cross such territory in search of news. He was here to confirm several rumors, after all. There were many opportunities for Alexci to explore the corridors of the castle further, but the loyalty to the light was slipping when he neared Silvar. The hand that was around his wrist held him still, standing tall. It would have been rather easy to take Silvar down with a mere touch, not to mention that he had been rather direct in having the windows open -- for the back draw of light.

The fingers that had once touched Silvar’s fingers shifted a little, so that he could pull his arm down, along with the hand that was holding onto him. He could not detect what Silvar was thinking, for Alex was rather slow when it came to responses. The glow in his eyes appeared dull now, as though he was resisting something he couldn’t control -- just to control it even more. It was those thoughts, his memories and the look upon a female’s face. Something that would never much up in real perspective.

Unfortunately, till this day, he could never figure out why neither of them ran.

Right now it would have been too obvious for his reasoning here, to probe Silvar for answers. So, instead he decided to go with the new situation at hand. “For once, it’s me not following your train of thought,” it was an implication that Alex had once been difficult, and this was the time for the warrior of the dark to speak to Alexci on rational, responsible terms. Though it was a give or take situation, for he would not answers if he did not get answers in return.

Then again, these moments of the light fey’s were short lived. Soon, he feared, he would lose him old self and become someone without restraint. Alexci mirrored the mysterious smirk in return.

[Silvar]

At the first sign of a shift, Silvar remembered a jolt, and that caused him to remember another, though much more vague (he'd been so out of it then). Dangerous, this Fey's touch and yet he couldn't bring himself to care, not in this proximity, not in this situation. God it was so infuriating, and it made him want...

That glow seemed so dim, and while he wondered why he allowed Alexci to lower both of their arms, still keeping his grip on that wrist. Even as he ran what he could remember of the last time through his head he realized how unusually curious he felt, how interested. The Light Fey's words seemed almost ironic, but at the same time when it came to his own thoughts on the matter there was certainly no making sense of it.

There was definitely no rationality in what he wanted of this fey, whether he'd admitted that want to himself or not.

"You seem to be becoming something truly intriguing," he commented, shifting forward what little there was left to shift, noting the mirrored expression and piecing things together from what he could remember. It was all just speculation, but there was something Dark in this Light Fey, something terrible and he wanted to bring him down. "Are you losing your Light, Alexci?" He tilted his head, showing a rather generous amount of restraint in the small distance he kept between them.

"Do I need to catch you when you fall?"

[Alexci Dominque]

The arm that was not imprisoned by Silvar’s hold lifted. He reached forward, placing his palm against Silvar’s neck, his fingers cupping the back of the other male’s head. With the window open and the cool breeze rolling in, the temperature of his flesh had been a contrast to that - for his hand had been warmed, as though he had stepped right out from under the sun. Alex was close enough, holding onto Silvar, and was capable of doing anything he had pleased. However, the light fey was not unaware that the warrior of dark could do the same.

Truly, it was light verses dark.

Something in the other male’s question caused him to shifted his smiling into something crooked. It was difficult to hold onto this light that Silvar spoke of, for it truly wasn’t his own. Who he had been truly was long forgotten, replaced with memories that weren’t his own. The downfall of powers persisted. Yet, Alex only moved his head back slightly, for the word light caused his eyes to glow brighter than before. The white of his teeth showed now, under the pearl white of his eyes, and he appeared almost monstrous shrouded by all the dark.

“I am not the one who needs saving, remember?” he voiced back, his fingers curling inward so that the tip of his fingernails dragged over Silvar’s scalp lightly.

It had been his secret here. There would no way that he would expose that he was the fraud in his kingdom, nor express how he had fallen years ago, and had taken many fey with him to get there. Alexci was not unlike Silvar, and so when he thought of saving anyone - it had to be Silvar, for that would suffice enough as saving himself. Or so he thought.

However, his intentions or desires never dwelled on Silvar. It only was a situational phase, in which needed releasing.

[Silvar]

Every shift, every touch was like teetering on the brink of something worse than forbidden, and a part of Silvar cursed it while another part entirely could do nothing but revel in it. Alexci's hand was warm, but he felt a nearly imperceptible shiver, something raw clawing at the back of his mind to be let out.

That crooked smile looked so tempting to him in that moment, and he wanted to see it bleed, he thought, or perhaps just painted in crimson the way it had been the last time. He couldn't help but run his tongue over his teeth just barely, and when the Light Fey moved his head back he moved his forward further, even though the brighter glow burned in his eyes.

He had to keep that distance, as if drawn in.

How fitting, this Dark Light darklight thing was so tantalizing, so intriguing standing there in a uniform of lies that marked him so essentially as belonging to him and he had a feeling things were slipping slowly out of place. The sound of his voice was low, a sound of amusement at Alexci's choice of words, and a sound of something else entirely (a carefully measured intake of breath) at the curl of fingers, the subtle rake of nails.

Oh, how he wanted to hurt this pretty thing, to make him suffer, make him sigh and his free arm lifted too, indulgent in the way he let his fingers trace the side of Alexci's face, let his thumb linger at the corner of one bright eye and dragged down. Restrained in the way he didn't go for the boy's throat, no matter how much he wanted to feel the give of it beneath his fingers, instead skirting the issue to mimic the grip the Light Fey had on him.

"Is that really how it is?" he murmured, questioning not entirely for himself, for there would be no saving his soul and there was proof of it in the way his grip tightened, the way he held on not desperately, not needy, but with a hunger for something entirely different from salvation. He wasn't going to question what he had no answer for, because it was so pointless to do so, entirely pointless to stop himself in this proximity and Alexci wasn't helping that any at all.

And because it was also pointless to keep resisting the urge to take a taste of the Light... he simply stopped resisting it.

[Alexci Dominque]

Alexci observed the dark warrior, taking in his strides, even focusing on the space around them. While this was a private corridor, he was not aware of the lifestyle in these areas. His Kingdom did not respect privacy entirely, for rumors in that area spread like wildfire. Would it have been the same here, too? If Silvar ever dared whispered of his presence here, surely the warrior’s Queen would be furious. Alexci took this all into consideration. As the other male’s touch was upon his face, the light continued brightly, making the moon behind him weak in comparison.

He remembered now. The person who he was, before he had even been here, before there was Light. Nothing was remarkable about him then, not as much as he was now. His ranks were earned by how lethal he was, not on how handy or progressive. Alex’s face appeared lost, the expression on his face slowly fading as Silvar neared closer. And what he was after now, was a different sort of power - to rid his memories or his guilt. There was fear. No matter what he took, he would be plagued.

Lowering his lids now, responding to the tightened grip brought him back to the present. As he looked upon the warrior, he only saw powers, as though different levels of colors. The other male’s question was lost on him, for Silvar had leaned closer into his space, where now the boy’s lips were on his own. Unlike all other times, he had not struggled, but his eyes shifted to cast over the red. From this close he could see Silvar’s pupils disappearing, as though the darkness wanted to hide.

Which would be correct, for when Silvar leaned in this time, it had been a mistake. Out of his control, there was a flickering in his eyes, as though fluorescent bulbs constantly humming. There was something off about the situation, as if he was drawing in Silvar all together, as if eating him alive -- without teeth and all. Before the monster within could have a taste, Alex glided his hand down to press his palm firmly upon Silvar’s shoulder, nudging the warrior away from him.

There had not been a look of disgust, yet a frown was apparent. “You won’t gain anything doing that,” he said quietly, yet not sharing the information, or what had happened in-between the contact. Alexci appeared to be bewildered.

[Silvar]

The light was almost blinding in this proximity, and though it hurt his eyes and blocked out the rest of everything, Silvar found it impossible to blink despite the fact that his eyes were nearly half lidded as it were. His gaze was transfixed by the flickering light and his mind preoccupied with the feel of those too fucking tempting lips, the shift, that something so terribly off almost lost in how out of it he was already.

Out of his goddamn mind-

Too soon Alexci had broken that contact, though, and he felt a surge of something close to deadly, the shadows curling up around the Light Fey's ankles, possessive as if they too wanted to drag the boy down into the darkness. His eyes sharpened, and he licked his lips as if to gain some lingering taste, fingers already tangled in dark hair and unwilling to let go.

He was still hungry, and now that he'd had a taste it was going to take more than a firm nudge and words of discouragement to make him back down. Not when the edges were frayed and he'd given up making sense of his thoughts, not when Alexci was there in his grasp, this irritating thing, this irresistible thing and he was sure he was going mad as he pushed against the hand that pressed against his shoulder.

"I beg to differ."

The Light Fey's wrist was released, but the shadows took over where the Warrior's hand left off, and he lifted his now free arm to hook two fingers into the collar of the uniform Alexci wore (his uniform, HIS). Oh, how he wanted to just devour this damnable thing.

"How is it that you've gotten so infuriatingly deep under my skin without even trying, Alexci?" he almost hissed out, craning his neck to get a bit closer again, driven by something he had given up on controlling for the sake of the thrill. He'd never felt so out of control in a situation that didn't involve the overuse of his power or an abundance of death and carnage and on some level it might have even frightened him.

To think that someone could have this kind of sway over him, layers upon layers of control broken down in the blink of an eye as if they were nothing.

[Alexci Dominque]

Shackles were put on Alex now, Silvar moving to hold onto him. He had gave a fair warning to the dark fey, to let him know there was a risk to coming into direct contact with him. It was his original powers that had a control of their own, and in any second, he could lose the powers he had now and gain new ones. Which would’ve upset the light fey, for it had taken years to master this one, and he was rather fond of it. However, Alexci held a strong sense of guilt for keeping the powers, but he could not give them away, as though he had wished the boy would return and he could give them back.

To have Silvar ruin these chances for Alex to clear his conscious, was something he could not allow.

He felt Silvar’s fingers go for the collar on the uniform, and he hesitated. One wrong move and things could go terribly wrong. The light in his eyes steadied, despite Silvar resisting the push from his hand. A look of frustration came across him, and he thought of a certain place. Along a meadow, where the sun was. As if the moonlight was feeding off this thought, the light appeared to ravel along the dark sleeve, lighting it show the stitching of the fabric.

The light was awkward in the night, in the dark kingdom, for even its presence seemed to ward off any shadows that were casting to curl around his wrist. Fingers that were on the back of Silvar’s neck shifted now, and he mirrored the gesture. He was holding onto Silvar’s collar this time, but instead of just holding him still. A quick pull and he had meant to pull the warrior off to the side, so that his other hand could move. He lifted his index finger and placed it definitely upon Silvar’s nose.

Alex’s lids shifted to cover half the light in his eyes, and his lips quirked up in a sort of innocent fashion. As if he was a child, playing with his food. Just like that, a weight was put on Silvar. It wasn’t anything physical, but as quiet manifest, no noise even created from the ability. “I guess I’ll just have to try.”

He had sent a full wave of shock toward Silvar, just in that little touch, but his other hand held him there. Just incase the boy had tried to pull away. For something strange inside of him had hated Silvar.