With a sharp nod, the guard turned to unlock the door to Loki's room, "Please watch your head, Ma'am."
"Th-thanks," Haelvia bowed her head slightly.
The elf making sure to return the bow-- and deeper. He was really serious about that...
Taking a deep breath, she ducked down and into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. The room was dark... and she was immediately assaulted by the musty smell of old wood.
She realized that even though Loki's room was part of the fort's medical wing, it was more of a storage room than a room dedicated to receiving patients. As her eyes adjusted to the environment, she identified mops and brooms, stacked tables and desks, and a pile of mattresses.
"Loki? Loki, are you awake?"
pαndα noνɐ1,сoМ A tray of breakfast foods remained undisturbed, just at the door. Even the green-haired criminal's favorite hardfruit sat lonely in its wooden bowl.
It was... a subtle insult. Loki didn't have the use of his legs. He would have had to wheel his bed over to get his food-- or if his bed was immobile, he'd have had to crawl.
Thinking of the arrogant brat forced to crawl on the sandstone just to feed himself gave Haelvia mixed feelings. The humiliation seemed cruel. But then again... that boy could learn some humility.
How many meals had Loki spurned? She could easily imagine him refusing to eat on account of the food being 'handed out by xeno's.'
Humans needed to eat to live. She smirked, wondering just how long his arrogance would last before he gave in.
...Then she sighed, realizing that the boy would probably starve himself half-to-death. She'd have to convince him to eat...
Loki was supposed to be the same age as she was... yet he still had the mental age of a spoiled child.
She was going to scold him-- maybe thwack him with one of the brooms if he refused.
Or maybe she'd trick him? She could tell him that as long as he ate, he could recover enough strength to get his revenge.
Shaking her head, she unlatched the two windows on the outer walls and opened them to allow in light from outside...
Outside...
Haelvia looked upon the oasis that Green Corn Tower was built around, covered in vegetation thriving off of the fertile soil.
In three more suns, Guild Metal Wolf had to leave the safety of the Highblades and their adobe walls. Then... on top of endless rocks, cacti, and the hostile plains-dwelling wildlife, they also had to worry about immortal elves with terrifying masks.
...and Loki's neverending complaints.
Small tears formed at the corner of her eyes. She wondered if it was from the harsh sunlight reflected from the waters... or from the unwillingness to go on. Whitehearth should have been only a few suns of travel more... but it seemed so much farther than that.
With the room properly illuminated, Haelvia grabbed the tray of food and navigated around an empty bookshelf, "Loki, it's me. Hey, listen, you need to--"
She stopped.
Haelvia swallowed the saliva in her dry mouth... and she tried to control her shaking hands.
And... she tried not to breathe in the scent of death.
Loki's lower body was draped off the end of his bed, his face purple and his eyes bulging. Blood still dripped from the bandaged stumps on his legs... and they stank of gangrene.
As calm as she could... Haelvia placed the tray of food on a nearby table.
"You... Flame-taken idiot..." She whispered.
Loki had killed himself... He'd tied a rope around the bedframe and his neck. He'd thrown himself off and let gravity finish the job.
She was shocked, she was hurt, but most of all... she was angry.
The self-proclaimed best Divine Armor pilot in all of Tyrion and the Eastern States... had abandoned his duty by way of suicide.
...
⟬ The morning of the fifth sun. ⟭
The death of Munifex Loukius was only a herald of more bad news.
The night prior a messenger delivered an ominous message to Lieutenant Teneca, the Commander of the Highblade forces at Green Corn Tower.
The Ebon Mask tribe had been made aware that House Highblade was providing sanctuary to Guild Metal Wolf. They demanded... that their Divine Armor pilot come out and do battle.
Because of Loki's selfish actions... that meant that Haelvia had to take the task.
As she and Gaheris emerged out of the gates, the elves of the Ebon Mask tribe stood in the distance. They were arranged in a line, flanking their own Divine Armor. From the relative size, it was even bigger than Lancelot was.
It looked like... a red and white metal bear with six massive cannons sprouting from behind its back and shoulders. From the reports she'd heard, they weren't mundane Orkish Sugar and cannonball cannons. Those things were capable of launching devastating magical attacks that exploded fantastically upon impact.
It was why Loki was defeated so easily. It was why he suffered catastrophic damage to his legs, despite being protected by his Divine Armor. It was why Lancelot had a gaping hole in his abdomen.
Haelvia turned back to the walls, where Centurion Januarius watched on with his unflinching wolf mask.
With the threat of impending attack, Teneca delivered an ultimatum. The Wolves were to immediately vacate the fort.
The Centurion asked her to fight. He gave her the choice, but did not press her.
If Haelvia were to refuse, the Wolves would surrender. If she were to die... the Wolves would surrender. If she were to forsake her duty... if she were to run away or maybe even accept Teneca's terms to join the Highblades... the Wolves would surrender.
And then... the Wolves would be executed for their supposed crimes. According to Teneca, the words in the Ebon Mask tribe's message could not be interpreted any other way.
Not leaving the walls... that would be the smart thing to do.
But... Haelvia had never considered herself to be a smart woman.
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