Darius finds Nasrin's silence very uncommon these days. The blond-haired's tongue was not one to remain still when there was something to talk about. Darius leans forward on the table, raises the cup to his lips and took a quick sip, dark-raven eyes watching his friend's expression. Nasrin was most likely thinking.
After a moment, Nasrin finally breaks the silence. "The Legend of the Ghost Army, Darius," he picks up his own cup and steals a sip of tea, "have you heard of it?"
Darius huffs gruffly. "None that I can relate to."
"I see." Nasrin retorts, his words curt and even, and then he smiles. "In ancient times, a soldier who follows his king into death is regarded as an honour. Legend speaks of a king by the name of Firdon, who was described by his people as the brightest star in the sky and the wisest of kings ever to rule a country. Upon his death all his soldiers followed him into the afterlife, but there are rumours that it may be Firdon who ordered their deaths himself, fearing that he may be alone once he dies." he pauses, "What do you think?"
"It hardly makes sense." The blackened winged creature shifts on his spot, his wings shuffling deep in the sand. "If King Firdon was a kind man as the legend speaks - for why would he order the death of his own soldiers?"
"My thoughts exactly." a smirk, and Nasrin leans back into his chair, enjoying the fact that there was no one around the hawker stall that they'd chose to settle down temporarily by the foot of the mountain. "But then, legends are but legends, after all."
Darius is not convinced. "What do you mean, 'Rin?"
"All stories of legends comes from their own sources." another smirk, and Darius knows better than to trust everything was alright.
"Do you mean you actually believe it?"
An affirmative nod was the blond's response. "We should investigate."
Rising to his feet, Nasrin left the money on the table before a slight wave of hand motions for Darius to follow him. At the back of the stall, Mount Salayar stood high, the sight of its very peak shielded by clouds. Rumours fly that people who ventures into the forest that populated the top would eventually not return. Perhaps it was the wild animals that feasted on them, or perhaps there are cannibals, or perhaps, ghosts of Firdon's soldiers came to haunt them and drove them mad. But Nasrin does not believe any of this, yet, he would rather witness the truth with his own eyes than analyse the existing rumours with no real substance or proof.
"Do you feel that it's getting cold, Darius?" Nasrin's soft, velvety voice resounds in the mist surroundings all around them. Two hours into the mountains, they'd most probably have made it through the top half, with Darius' initial offer to carry him up to the roof, Nasrin is not oblivious to the fact that his wings were not made to bare two owners. He'd tire himself.
"I hate to admit it, but..." Darius grumbles, "the frost is unusual."
"Death." Nasrin added, and stops when his foot hit something. The wingless entity bend over to pick it up, violet eyes blinks in surprise at the bright jewels sparkling on a golden goblet. "Oh?" He turns to face Darius now, who was next to him, a cheeky little smile now across his visage. "I don't suppose you're in for a tea party? Gold is rare even in the palace of Andromeda. Though I've noticed Earth is filled with it."
"Be serious." Darius snaps at him, but took the goblet in his hand. He inspects it, noting that it wasn't filthy or covered in dirt as it should be. "Why would something as valuable as this be in the middle of nowhere?" he spoke, rather loudly, "And it seemed to newly gone through a polish, at that."
The rustling of bushes made them both jump, Nasrin drew his sword and Darius his spear, prepared for whatever that was coming their way.
"We're already at the top, Darius." Nasrin says suddenly, "that would explain why it's cold."
Darius looks up, lowering his spear even though he knew better than to lower his guard.
"Come." Nasrin beckons him, snaking his way through the forest, Darius wonders since when his friend knew the place like the back of his own hand. But he held his spear, following Nasrin's lead, and came through a gap before subsequently finding himself at the edge of the mountains.
The spot where he stood overlooks the entire lands, stretching past the horizon. The light of the setting sun bleed into the clouds, looking as astounding as the face of the person who was watching it. The tip of his spear fell back to his feet, and the winged man's heartbeat skipped for a second, but for the first time since a long while, Darius smiled. "This is beautiful, 'Rin."
"Yes it is."
Nasrin's voice was the same, although the tone in which he used didn't seem quite familiar. He could've sworn he'd heard the mildest of sinister in Nasrin's voice, a bit unlike his friend, for as long as Darius could bet on the years he've known Nasrin, his friend was not the sort to be hostile nor cruel. While pondering over his doubt, Darius fails to notice a shadow creeping up his back only to provide him a push hefty enough to send him off the cliff. Appalled at the long blond strands of hair he'd caught sight of just as he turns around in a defensive stance, Darius' wings extended voluntarily on their own accord, the tip of its strong end digging into the soil to avoid his possibly death. Up here in the mountains, winds are strong, sheer and frozen, even for mighty feathered wings like Darius', may prove to be a sheer aspiration that would only send him clashing into the rocks to his death.
"'Rin! What's the meaning of this?" he hissed through gritted teeth, now facing his so-called friend. Darius is not a man of many allies nor many friends, but if there was one he would entrust his utmost faith on, it would be the very same person who attempted to condemn him to his death just moments ago.
Nasrin's crude silence only riled up his fury. Betrayal, the very word of it, could hurt the ravenette more than any steel of a blade could. Darius ducks when Nasrin's sword thrust over his shoulders, barely missing his skin by just a few millimeters. When it comes to melee combat Nasrin is not bad a fighter himself, but for Darius, he'd easily over power any single man who walks the Earth. A swipe of swords and clashing steels, Darius saw the flaw in Nasrin's stance and used the chance to disarm him, sending his sword sliding across the grass and down the sheer top of the cliff, while he caught Nasrin neck in a tight grip, hovering the shorter man off the ground.
"Why?" he demanded, voice strong with sentiment, though his face did him the credit of betraying less than he'd intended to. The grip on Nasrin's neck only tightens the more reluctant he is to speak.
"I'll kill you."
— {˙ღƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღ˙} —
"You are not Darius."
Nasrin panted heavily after the battle. The tip of his celestial blade, crafted only by the finest weaponsmith of Andromeda, is pointed towards the only man in the universe whom he'd call his friend.
Darius' imposter laughs. "To be frank, I did not expect you to see through my disguise so soon. How did you know?"
"I realized it the moment you feigned helplessness. Darius' pride would never have permitted him to ask me for help, much less against mountain bandits who did not possess half the capability of a fighter as he was."
Another laugh. "It seems I underestimated you. That was my mistake."
"Wrong." Nasrin retorted, "You underestimated Darius and my understanding of his personality. But your greatest mistake, is that you underestimated his wrath when it comes to betrayal." and ducks when the spear was thrust right into his face, allowing the tip to hit an empty spot where his stomach had been its initial target. "Darius does not take betrayal lightly."
An illusion, casted by the curse of the mountains. Nasrin narrowly escaped another thrust of the spear, but used the mist that has gathered around them to his advantage. A shadow skims past the fake Darius as Nasrin comes up behind him, blade high in the air, a direct sever of his blade into the figure and Nasrine maims him permanently.
The man is shocked but his features did not convey pain, watching his right arm rolls across the ground with the spear will firm in its grasp. Nasrine finds his absolute resolve in quickly ending the fight, so that he may search for the real Darius and access his situation. His tongue did not lie when he indicated that Darius was not the sort to take betrayal lightly, but he would be lying if he confessed that he wasn't at least worried about his friend. "Who are you and why are you doing this? Did all the people who ventured into these mountains fell to the same evil scheme? State your name."
"My, my, so many questions..." the illusionary figure of Darius had begun to fade. Sweat broke between Nasrin's brows, watching as he allows the enemy slip past. The trembling grip on his steel is not enough to pacify the fire in his heart, nor soothe his haste in attempting to just run off and search for Darius.
"We will meet again." its last words echo around them, and then it was gone. In the quiet aftermath, Nasrin took small, hesitant steps to the spot where the figure just stood, and found another golden goblet embedded in jewels, just like the one he'd found before.
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Author's Note:
Since this is my very first attempt to get back to writing, a supposed fanfiction converted to an original story at that, I'm quite aware how rusty my writing has become. Therefore all constructive critiques are welcomed!
I'm dropping a funfact on my way out: the truth is, Nasrin's mother was taken from him when he was 10 and he fell into severe depression after being denied to see his mother, while Darius, being his only friend then, made a promise that he would remain by his side forever. Darius is not the sort to break oaths, so since that day, he sworn to protect Nasrin until the end of their lives. His concern only amplified after Nasrin lost his wings, which were severed from his back personally by King Radius as a display of punishment for breaking a law (which is another story entirely).
Yours sincerely, Autumn.