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Xylaes stared up at the ceiling, exhaling an exasperated sigh as he rubbed at the slight lump now forming on his forehead. An annoyed expression was fixed on his features as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to shrug off the sudden pain.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” Pollux bounced on the balls of his feet, training daggers in hand as he gestured for his friend to get up and keep trying.

“It’s no fucking use…” Xylaes flung both hands upwards before letting them flop back down beside him. “I have no idea how to control it. I have no idea exactly what -it- even is yet since it mostly seems to happen when I’m under extreme pressure.” 

Ever since the limb replantation from the House of the Chosen in Maldraxxus, Xylaes had rediscovered some of his magic. Or the arm’s magic, he wasn’t quite certain how that worked just yet. Even after six years he didn’t feel like he was any closer to finding his answers. He had been stripped of all his arcane magic prior to entering prison as a part of his sentence decades ago, and while this replanted arm seemed to have brought some magic back to him, he had no idea how to control it nor how to even summon it at all.

It was mostly random, but he did know that anytime his life seemed to be in immediate danger he was able to access that new, but also old magic. Unfortunately, recreating those types of situations while just sparring was impossible. Pollux had done his best to try to gain the element of surprise on him, attempting to provoke some kind of reaction, but it still had yet to work.

The only thing it was accomplishing now was in pissing him off. “I’m done with this.” Xylaes stood up and began to stalk away when suddenly Pollux was below him, swiping a leg around to knock him off his feet. With a *thump* and a soft grunt, Xylaes found himself on the ground yet again. “Fucking stop it! I said I’m done with this today!” He could feel the anger flaring up inside of him as he rolled onto his feet and stared down the other man.

Pollux once again disappeared from sight with a shrug. Xylaes’s nostrils flared as eyes darted around, attempting to sense his friend who was no doubt about to attack him from the shadows again despite his objections. A sharp jab between his shoulder blades spun him around only to be met with emptiness and the overwhelming urge to punch Pollux in his stupid, pretty face when they actually did take a break. A kick to the back of his knee caused him to drop to his other knee with a pained grunt before being forcefully knocked onto his side once more. Fucking rogues. 

He rolled away from the last strike up onto his feet once more, holding up his left hand at the ready in case some kind of magic decided it wanted to make itself known to him. Pollux appeared for a split second a handful of yards away and tossed one of those training daggers right at Xy’s face. He couldn’t call upon any magic, but he did manage to slap the weapon away mid-air; at least his reaction time was still decent. A thought made too soon when a sudden jab thunked against his lower back, spinning him around once again.

No longer just frustrated at this point, Xylaes was pissed off. Mostly at himself because he could not figure out how to make this blasted arm, nor any part of himself for that matter, produce any kind of magic on cue or even by accident. It had been nothing but disappointment day after day of sparring, practicing, focusing, meditating, or anything that might help him. So much work with zero results would get to anyone after a while, and today was that day for him. Pollux certainly wasn’t helping.

He abruptly found himself knocked onto his ass once more, and in a moment of pure, simmering rage he bellowed out a loud, “FUCK OFF!”, as he shot his left arm out before him.

Pollux was suddenly knocked from the shadows, staggering a few steps before finding his footing. There was a moment of confusion on his face before he clutched at the sides of his head and dropped to his knees, eyes watering, blood trickling from his nose, and clearly in pain as he gasped out, “Stop….Stop it…STOP!!”

That oddly alluring rage was quick to fade and so was Pollux’s invisible assault. Both men stared at each other across the training grounds, in a little bit of lingering pain, but mostly in confusion. Pollux was the first to move, getting to his feet as he wiped the blood from his face, and moving over to Xylaes to offer a hand up. He didn’t take it just yet, still attempting to wrap his mind around whatever had just happened. 

That certainly was not his magic, but it was his doing…right? Pollux retracted his hand and sighed, flopping down next to Xylaes on the ground. “I think…” He paused, attempting to collect his thoughts. He had felt that pain before, he knew exactly what that was. “I think we need to consider that perhaps that arm has given you access to…other types of magic.”

@polluxhale

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"Fallen Angel" - by Roberto Ferri (2011)

Born in 1978, Ferri is an Italian artist and painter from Taranto, Italy, who is deeply inspired by Baroque painters (Caravaggio in particular) and other old masters of Romanticism, the Academy, and Symbolism.

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those ocean eyes 🩵

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A Black Sun | Print

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Cillian Murphy | Willy Vanderperre | AnOther

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“I am a chthonic God of obsolescent descent, the language in my veins is older than corporeality. I am a beast of a dangerous origin, I am the origin of all the dangerous beasts.”

— Channing H.M, The Monochrome of Darkness

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