Calabricus

276 250

Secondary: Flair - 140 250
Tertiary: Ghost - 136 000



"Get up, worm!" Barked the voice above him.

Calabricus coughed weakly and twitched, tasting his burnt feathers at the back of his throat. He registered the sharp jab from the haft of the trident but the pain that should have accompanied it was lost on his fried nerves.

"Is this how you intend to atone to the Icewarden? You are a pathetic waste of time." Keoke spat at his feet, visage contorted by disgust. He tried to get up, to argue that he could do better but his strength failed him and all he could manage was some sort of half-flop. His tears blurred his vision but he could still make out the priest leaving him in the snow. He tried to call out to him, beg him to stay, promise him he would do better but all he could do was moan feebly.

A small paw petted his shoulder and he jumped in surprise.

"Ah, Calabricus. Don't mind Keoke. We know you try your best."

The High-Priestess. He had forgotten she had been overseeing his training this time. Pain made it so hard to remember.

"He's not mad at you, you know. He's just disappointed. He simply wishes you would do better, as do I. We just want to be proud of you. "

She ran her tiny claws on his head soothingly and he sobbed. He understood. He was a disappointment to his family, his real family. The one he chose and that chose him in return. He held nothing but disdain for the clan that birthed him. He held nothing but seething hatred for the thriced-curse coward that was his father. It was his fault he had to suffer. His crimes he was struggling to atone for.

"Don't you want us to be proud of you?" Asked the Fae after a few seconds of hesitation. A vicious lance of anguish and guild stabbed the Skydancer in the guts and twisted them until he couldn't breathe. He wanted his family to be proud of him. He wanted to be good to them, just like they were good to him. He was less than filth, born of betrayal and cowardice. They gave him a chance to become more but all he did was disappoint them. He couldn't let them down again. He needed to be good.

With a pained cry, Calabricus heaved himself on his feet. With great effort, he finally managed to pushed his body from the ground. His limp wings pulled him downward but he struggled, legs quaking with effort. He tasted blood in his mouth but he ignored it and did the same with the line of fire that burned his spine. He was dizzy, nauseous, blinded by the searing pain that radiated from his every cell but he was up. Head low, wings still lifeless, he focused on his heavy breathing and on forcing himself to quell the shaking in his legs.

"See, Keoke? I told you he wasn't a lost cause."

The praise washed over his body like cold water on an inferno.

"Will you look at that, he actually did it. Looks like this maggot is becoming a beautiful fly." Cal turned his head to the side with difficulty and caught the Fae male with an expression other than anger or disgust for the first time.

"Right then, little fly, why don't you buzz off for now? You've finally managed to attain mediocrity, so why don't you celebrate by limping your sparkly buttocks somewhere I won't have to deal with you?"

Feeling lightheaded and fuzzy from all the praises, the Skydancer turned and hobbled away, a drunken smile cutting through the pain on his features. He had done good. Finally. He had managed to make his family proud. He'd been a good boy.

Both priests watched him head back to their temporary camp.

"What in the Eleven did you tell him to make him stop hugging the ground?"

"What Helianthus told us to tell him. Perhaps you ought to 'coddle' the boy more if you're so keen on getting results.", Affogato replied in an even tone. Keoke didn't miss the jab she threw his way. His hatred for the boy was well known and he had always been vocal about wanting get rid of him. His success wasn't exactly on his priority list.

"Maybe he's not as worthless as I thought. Maybe the Inquisitor's idea isn't all that bad after out." He conceded with a shrug. They stayed silent for a moment, just revelling in the biting cold.

"Still think it's distasteful?" The priest asked lightly.

"It is distasteful," Affogato snapped, "But it needs to be done. If the traitor is still alive, we need some kind of leverage on him to make sure he keeps quiet. That boy is going to ensure that hundreds more get to grow in relative safety."

"I always forget you're one of the sensible ones.", chuckled Keoke.