((Was reading back through and got so mad that the conclusion to the Thrice/Aleks/Kass arc hadn't finished... 5 years later, here's some closure @_@... sans images cuz photobucket has turned into douchebucket.))
Where once a long oaken table had stood was now just a pile of splinters and ash. Heavy cotton drapes that had blocked the abusing sun lay in tatters beneath the stone sills. Six years worth of dust sat atop it all in a thick layer of grey making the whole scene appear as if from a snap shot of an old movie. A memory. What had transpired here that fateful December evening had left its mark forever on the Rose Estate and beyond. Past the high walls, in the distance smoke still sometimes wafted into the sky from the brightly colored tent city that had been Alistair's Circus. When old circuits blew, the aging marionettes were able to do less and less with the decaying mansion. The great manor that had belonged to the ever seductive Midnight also stood barren, its doors shut tight but a light always shining from the master's window.
Foot steps echoed down the long hall leading to the broken doors of the private dining chamber as a near skeletal figure rounded the corner. The gait was broken and mismatched, often stumbling and the sound of cloth scraping against stone accompanied the movement as the creature clutched at the walls for strength. Plumes of the ever-present dust kicked up around the creatures bare feet as it moved and caused the being to cough gently. The hoarse masculine voice carried unimpeded to the other end of the hall until the owner made it to the shattered doorway where it's breath hitched.
Kassadin hadn't been back to this floor since the night Kryos sat them all down and tried to sway their allegiances. His prince had apparently told the great general everything about their twisted romance and the shapeshifter intended to use that knowledge to his benefit. The sky demon still had flashes of his canary and prince passionately entwined and it took all his will not to retch at the betrayal. Indeed, when he first entered the dining chamber and saw their traitorous faces he had nearly snapped then, but...
The demon stepped over the debris and shuffled farther into the room. His every nerve was on fire having long since run out of pills to assuage the damage done to him over the years, both by others and his own innate electricity, so his movements were sluggish at best. He gripped his frail arms around his midsection in a self-soothing gesture as he moved close to the remnants of the table. It smelled horrid, but that's not what made his stomach churn. Kass had been around plenty of corpses before, finding several during his wanderings about the Estate, and the smell of death and decay didn't bother him.
It was the lingering scent of flowers.
It was the subtle smell of hay bales.
It was the sight of a discarded eye patch and a torn swatch of colorful cloth.
Kassadin collapsed to his knees under the weight of the memory. Kryos had played them all. He knew Aleksander was finding his voice again and ready to stand up to the lycan. He knew Thrice had never truly returned the lycan's feelings no matter how grateful he was Kass had saved his life... twice. The demon might have handled it better under normal circumstances. Sure, he was hurt that they both lied to him, devastated they played him like they did, but in the end, Kassadin wanted his best friend and his canary to be happy. He understood boundaries (mostly) and had shown restraint toward Thrice for years leading up to the wolves' attack. He never would have crossed that line had the fortune teller not expressed interest. Hell, he even brought the horse prince into the fold for Thrice to play with. He cared. But... that was on a typical day.
The night of the dinner had been rather atypical. When Kass had first entered the room he was already shaking. Whether it was from the pain and withdrawal or the rage at having just watched his lovers fornicate in spite of him was anyone's guess. He was strung out, on the verge of breaking, and it only took a few suggestive lines from Kryos to make him snap.
Kassadin drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, rocking back and forth in the ruins of the table as he remembered the sheer hate he'd felt. Though weak and in near unbearable pain, he'd summoned up every ounce of power he held and let it sing through the room. It crashed through the table, vibrating the fibers of the wood until it exploded in a hail of splinters. The lightning bounced around the stone walls and ignited the drapes. Kryos had just sat there and smirked, exuding a thin film of some kind of protective ooze as Kass lost control. The demon just couldn't take it anymore. Having been left to rot in the interrogation room for a week without food, without medication, only a water bottle rolled through the door every now and then, he was at his wit's end by the time the image of the lovers had flashed on his screen. Even now, in the remnants of that chaotic night, Kass pressed his hands to his eyes to try and stop the vision of Aleks and Thrice so happily embraced. He would have been okay with it. He would have been okay... if only...
Aleks had tried to shield Thrice from the lycan's onslaught. As the table had erupted, the price blocked the wooden needles with his body before they could mar the teller's delicate features. Most shards had bounced harmlessly off the leather jerkin he wore but a larger fragment had torn into his side and lodged between his ribs. Kass could hear Thrice's scream just as clear now as he did that day. The shock and panic, the love and concern. Kass had thought nothing of it at the time. Aleks would heal, but he needed to learn his lesson. You don't <********> with Kassadin. Especially after he died and got turned into a god damn werewolf.
Aleks had tried to put up a fight after making sure his beloved was alright. It had been an exercise in desperation only. Kassadin had overpowered the prince easily, his anger pushing through his pain and exhaustion until he had the other dark-haired man pinned on his back. The lycan landed fist after fist against Aleksander's face but what should have just left the man dazed and bloody rendered him eerily still. Thrice cried as he looked on, at one point running over to try and pull Kass off but a loud pop of electricity as it arced from the demon to the teller had the blonde pulling back. When the lycan stopped to catch his breath, to fill his lungs to yell at the prince again, he first noticed the relaxed muscles beneath him. Aleks' mouth was slack and bloodied, his eyes swollen and nose crooked. So he was unconscious... but, wait. Underneath him, Kass didn't feel the rise and fall of his partner's chest. Thrice already knew what had happened. When Kassadin was lucid and fighting, he was careful about the distribution of his power so each strike didn't fry his opponent. He'd taken no such precautions here and had stopped Aleks' heart many blows ago.
Kass was jolted from his reverie by a crow landing on the exposed window sill. Sniffling and wiping away tears he hadn't realized he was crying, he scrambled up and lunged for the bird with a shout. "Kryos! You ********> He reached wildly for the corvid but it simply flapped its wings and was gone. His lunge carried him half across the wide sill and left Kass draped over the stone recess so his head and arms hung out the window. He heaved breath after breath from the exertion and panic he felt in the split second he made himself believe the crow had been the old Master of the Estate back to taunt him. Of course it was just a bird...
From his new position, Kassadin could look out over most of the estate. The grand splendor that had been the white gleaming walls were dirt-ridden and ill-kept. Not so much time had passed that they would be in disrepair, but they certainly no longer held the majesty they once had. It was fitting, Kass mused. Why should anything look pure or strong in this hell? It meant, though, there were no sights to tear his gaze away from the two haphazard crosses marking two not quite rectangular plots of earth. Scratched into one was "Thrice," the other "Aleksander." The paltry markings were all Kassadin had been able to cobble together in the wake of that night. Kryos had fled with his instructors as the demon began to scour the entire facility of life.
Thrice had taken his own life just to be away from him. "Wherever we go, we go together." It had been their creed to each other to never part, no matter what. "But not you." Kass had taken surprise to this. What could his canary possible mean? It wasn't until the teller had impaled his own heart and Kass made to do the same did he realize his fate.
He couldn't die.
Now the sky demon just wandered the estate, mostly keeping underground. The facility had kept stock to be able to outlast a siege so there was decades worth of food for one man. Not to mention the farms had grown wild and bore plenty additional sustenance. Kass still wasted away, though. He couldn't bring himself to eat most days. Too tired. Too depressed. He visited the graves often and talked to his ex-lovers as if they were still with him. Insanity, some might say, but it brought him a modicum of comfort. He could almost believe they weren't under the ground he stood on. He could pretend they had just gone back to the circus to wait for him as long as he didn't go to the master's quarters.
There was no denying it now. Kass inhaled deeply of the fresh air, trying to rid himself of the cloying scents of his deceased dolls. He was spent and so... so tired of it all. He'd tried all manner of suicide following the fall of the Rose Estate but still his heart beat on. It wasn't fair. The demon balled his hands into fists and let out a scream across the desolate lands.
He hadn't expected a howl in return.
"Sincerity..."
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