Atropos and Deimos
Atropos' breath catches, and he sighs. "Would you like the long version, or the short?" He says finally, quietly.
Deimos looks ahead again, "If I'm going to move forward I need to know everything. I need to know what happened."
Atropos closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "A traveler approached us, on watch. Begging for food. Dravos denied him, I offered for him to come back in the morn, when we had our food unpacked."
His breath is shaking slightly now. "We heard a noise, from the animals. Dravos went to check, I stayed with the man. He was not aggressive, but he ignored me, until there was a cry. Too high pitch to be Dravos."
"I... Acted rashly. Fired a bolt, missed, as he sprinted past me, and, fearing a berserk state, I," Atropos chokes slightly on his words, the echos of pain closing his throat. "I ended his life, on the spot. The other turned out to be the girl, you were there for the burial. Dravos and I fought the rest of our shift." He sighs again, heavy. "Now we are here."
Deimos grimaces slightly. He moves to take Aropos' hand, if he lets him. "I'm sorry, Atropos," He sighs a bit, "I figured it was bad, but..." He blinks a few times. Was that his first kill? Usually, I'm there to... "If it helps... I remember my first time. How... rushed it was. It wasn't clean. I had my reasons for it but..." ...but I wasn't always a hero. He gulps, incapable of speaking the last words out loud.
Atropos' eyes glisten at the recollection. His hand twitches away, reflexively, at the touch, but he takes Deimos' hand in his own, cold one.
"Did you feel it? When they died?" He asks quietly.
Deimos hesitates before he responds; "I don't think so, at least... well. Maybe..." He trails off a bit, wincing as he recalls that day; "It happened so quickly that I hadn't really... understood what had happened until it was over. There was a pain, in my heart, as I looked at his dead body on the ground. I don't think I... felt his death, but as I realized what I had done I..." His face darkens for a moment.
"When I severed the threads, holding him together, I knew I would come into contact with his life, his soul. It was required for the working." Atropos blinks, trying to clear his eyes. "I did not know how much it would hurt. How hard it would thrash."
Deimos squeezes Atropos' hand softly as he explains what happened. "With his... soul?" Deimos asks, not quite sure if what he was hearing was correct.
Atropos looks up at Deimos. "I... believe so. At least, that is how I understand the texts. The grimoires I have studied from have been, frustratingly unclear on the matter of what exactly is being manipulated." He blinks a couple of times, trying to clear his eyes.
Deimos furrows his brow as he listens to Atropos. "Magic is a strange, strange thing indeed." He says softly, though he focuses more on walking forward. "I don't quite understand, but I do understand how much killing can stain the soul. It stays with you, forever." He frowns. "I can't even say it gets easier- but it feels like it does, in the moment."
Perhaps, a part of him will stay with me. How many fragments, how many souls, can I hold before I collapse? Atropos ponders quietly. After a moment, he speaks aloud: "I truly hope not. I do not wish to feel that ever again, however, I wish even more for it to never get easier. I do not want it to ever be easy for me to kill." His mind wanders back to the previous night. To his fight with Dravos.
Deimos nods once more, and sighs. "We will see. But I'll be there for you next time, I promise." He says, and turns his head to look at Atropos again; "Thank you for telling me."
"Thank you for listening." Atropos rests his head on Deimos' arm, for just a moment, before righting himself again. "Now, unless there is aught else you'd like to ask, let us catch up, we have fallen far enough behind."