Judgement Blood: A Celestial's Vendetta

'How... How pretty!'

But he had to let them know first. This was his reckless decision and thus shouldn't be theirs to shoulder.

Ilyas discreetly flicked his hand, urging them to go on without him. 

'Don't wait for me, you dolts!'

They considered him with earnest concern, then, after perhaps sensing his determination, they nodded and continued their hastened pace toward the thicket. 

Ilyas wasn't about to waste any time either; he strode toward the Twinblade, eyes never leaving its glinting steel. 

He could feel it.

He could feel how the twins beckoned for him, begging him to wield it. Whether it be delusion or truth, it didn't Goddamn matter because Ilyas was going to have that beautiful thing anyway.

He reached it amidst jogging troops, clasped the polished oak shaft, then froze as he heard from somewhere behind:

"Didn't your mother ever teach you never to touch what isn't yours, comrade?"

'Oh, dear... Oh dear me... I shouldn't have done that. The greed. Oh, the greed got you good, Ilyas, you fool!'

It was a low voice. An insidious voice. And in this case, the worst thing he could possibly hear. 

Ilyas's hand froze on the shaft, and so as not to show it tremble, he tightened his grip around it.

Behind the mask, he blanched. He could feel his breath grow slow and quiet as if that would hide him from the world, but now, even he knew what he must do.

He very slowly turned around and saw a charming dark-haired man with a pale complexion and a...

...freakishly similar look to Rye.

Ilyas gulped and said with a faltering voice, "I could not resist its charm, sir."

He should really stop forgetting that he had that mask on, and others' perception of him was never similar to his.

His threat stared at him blankly, then smiled with wide eyes. "Right? Truer words have rarely been said! You speak like my brother, comrade, Celeste rest his soul."

'Ah shit, I knew it!'

What Ilyas said seemed to have kindled some kind of fondness in the threat's heart, however. A fondness... to him?

The threat continued, "But unfortunately Twinblades aren't so simple. And they aren't so common either. The one you have there, belongs to my cousin - not an Imitator yet-" he smiled proudly, "But soon. Soon he will be."

At least now, Ilyas knew how to gain the man's favour, "I pray for his success," he said. "But I agree, they aren't so simple, and aren't so common, but I cannot shake off the feeling that they are immensely loyal and domineering."

The threat nodded in ardent agreement. "Do you wish to wield one, comrade? Our family specialises in mastering its kind. Perhaps I could arrange for you to meet my grandfather - Perhaps! Don't get your hopes too high now!."

'Huh? Is... Is the whole family Twinblade freaks?!'

"That would be a great honour."

The threat turned left, then right. He took a few steps closer, a wide, either friendly or toying grin on his face. Ilyas felt his heart rattle as he neared him. 

"My name is Rikai, by the way," he whispered as if sharing a secret. "And I feel like I'm being rude here, but I think your mask looks really cool-" Rikai paused, raised his hands in panic, then corrected himself, "-In a menacing way obviously! It's cool as in it... it... It mourns someone before taking their life. So can I ask where you got it from?"

Ilyas stared back at him. Rikai was too close, Goddamit, staring up at him with curious, passionate eyes.

That Twinblade passion really does it for him, huh?

Ilyas took a second, then decided there was really no reason to lie. "My father, he uh... he gave it to me before he died. I have a condition. Weak lungs. I cannot survive without it." Ilyas even made sure to lace his words with a tinge of sadness. 

Rikai frowned, then looked down in sympathy, softly shutting his eyes. He remained like that for a few seconds, then opened his eyes and said somberly, "My brother too died not long ago. Killed in action. A wound through the heart. I... I'm still not over it. In fact, I don't think I ever will be. He and I were close, you see.'

'This guy... seriously, this guy cannot find out. And did he say his whole family were masters? Wait?! Wait, did I just get myself into some family vendetta?!'

"I'm sorry for your brother, Rakai, sir. 

Rakai nodded mournfully, took a deep, shuddering breath, then smiled again. "Well, it happens. Or happened, I guess. Our Forensic Imitators are still working on preparing his blood so we could find the killer." Rikai leaned forward and added in a whisper, "The whole family is devastated, you see, so they are working our house to the bone to clear the blood."

Ilyas nodded firmly and said, "Well, I have no doubt that they will face the consequences."

Rikai smiled, put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Consequences, huh?" 

He turned back over his shoulder to the troops and said after some thought, "Listen here, comrade..."

"Brass is fine. I go by a nickname."

Rikai seemed to like it. "Listen here, comrade Brass, my cousin is south of the encampment at the moment, probably has no clue what's going on up here, but I've no doubt he'd be more than happy to let you borrow his darling. Of course, only because you're a true appreciator of its beauty."

Ilyas smiled nervously behind the mask and said, "I cannot express my gratitude enough, sir."

Rikai scoffed, then said, "Well, of course you can! Meet my grandfather and serve our house!" He paused then added, "Of course, that's not what you owe me, I'm just offering... offering an opportunity. Our house is quite, uh, prosperous, you see. Prosperous and strong. We'll care for you well."

Ilyas pretended to pause as if he was considering the offer, then bowed ever so slightly and said, "That... that is a very lucrative offer, sir. I'd be honoured."

There was a bout of silence between them. Dreadful for Ilyas, probably pleasant for Rikai. The Salivitian then smiled brightly and said, "Don't die, Brass. Go. Go tame that beast. I'll find you after and we'll discuss the specifics."

He patted him one last time on the shoulder, then walked away. Away to the command tent. 

Ilyas was left standing there, Twinblade in clutch, mind screaming in panic.

'I messed up. I messed up big. Powerful?! Prosperous?! Oh shit. Oh dear god.'