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[ 'Hunt' or 'Flee', there'd been no role offered for a guardian. Probably that would likely have gotten messy in a hurry, even if it's only a game. So Cedrik chose to join the runners, lingering at the end of the initial pack until it scattered through the various turns and tunnels. The trouble is, he's no longer sure how long ago that was...

His Shadow has started making a nuisance of itself.

Let them all go ahead so you can play the sacrificial lamb? Again? ]

It wasn't like that.

[ Talking to himself is never a good sign. Cedrik stops in the middle of a long 'hallway', pressing the heel of his palm to his brow, angrily hissing at his own darker thoughts.

Wasn't it? You hated watching them leave. 'Don't look back.' But when you're the one left behind, it's a--

A rough, distant voice interrupts him. Someone calling for D? Even the Shadow falls quiet as Cedrik turns, long ears pointing him towards the source. At the far end spots the dark figure turn the corner, coming for him, red eyes fixed. The Shadow sees its chance.

You knew it! You KNEW it! You can't trust him!

Once more the unfamiliar fear wells up in Cedrik's chest, seizing him by the throat. He shouldn't run, he never runs--

Cedrik turns and bolts. ]

[A small, more coherent sliver of him wishes Cedrik wouldn't have run. Whatever is in him--no, he knows what it is, his Shadow--becomes riled at the sight of prey fleeing. It's very much like the Noble side of him, and it frightens him, if he's honest. Not being a vampire, but not being able to control the bloodlust.

His body moves without his consent. He sprints after Cedrik, too fast and too graceful, fangs growing long, scent turning sharper. A heavy, icy, powerful weight swells up as darkness behind him, chasing the edges of him, following him. The corn stalks he passes quickly shrivel and wither away, becoming husks. Any lingering foliage on the ground grows dark as it dies.

The deep, prideful voice in him cheers him on over the sound of the old one pleading with him to get a hold of himself.]

[ It doesn't make sense. Why would D be a threat, isn't it meant to be a game? But the question doesn't have time to find purchase, swept away in the rush of adrenaline and fear as instinctive as it is wrong.

His own Shadow's gone quiet, no longer merely goading but seeping into his limbs and lungs. It embraces the same fear it inflicts, forcing Cedrik to keep running, to look back and see D closing in and the destruction left in his wake. More death. Endless and inescapable. He's not immune, no one is. Why pretend to be brave?

Between the roaring of his own heart, the rapid beating of running footsteps, and the old man shouting at D it's impossible to hear anything else. Even the other presence, usually so close and familiar, goes unnoticed, struggling to be felt at all.

The first turn Cedrik takes he realizes the futility of it. These walls are a suggestion, there’s nothing to keep D from cutting a line straight through to kill him.

There’s nothing keeping Cedrik from doing the same to escape.

Rather than turn again, the viera raises an arm and crashes through the next wall of the maze, husks fraying behind him. ]

[With the power of what he usually keeps clamped tightly away behind him, D is much too fast. Cedrik dives through the corn, and D bursts through it parallel. He chases the other man at the side, catching up, closing the distance until they are running together a few yards apart.

Not watching the front, he has his head turned, glowing red eyes trained on Cedrik. His usual placid, quiet voice now has a dark, heady roll; it's deeper, commanding.]

Give up.

[He veers suddenly toward Cedrik, leaping away from the ground and throwing himself across in a pool of black and flurry of cape. The long fingers reach out, grabbing Cedrik's upper arms like talons, digging the nails in. All of his weight crashes into the other man, sending them careening through stalks of corn into the dirt. He opens his mouth wide, baring the fangs.

The Shadow is ecstatic. This is how it should be! it cackles. The right way! You're his success! The top of the line! The end all, be all!

The croaking voice, which sounds so close to Cedrik, like it's D, but not D, yells:] Snap out of it! Is this really how you're going to let it end, D?! [And he

hesitates.]

[ He's never heard D speak before yet it still doesn't sound right. It doesn't fit at all with the wise and comforting words he'd read only a few days ago. It's something arrogant, "noble", and Cedrik hates what it reminds him of.

He's right.

D is far, far too fast for the warrior of light. Before he can react, before the Echo even gives him a glimpse of warning, the dhampir pivots and lunges, knocking him clean off his feet.

You should.

Crashing into the ground knocks the breath from his lungs, making his pained cry weaker as he feels skin break and bleed. D's grip feels like it could break bone if he struggled against it.

Why bother? It's over.

Feeble instinct wars with the Shadow's weight. The glint of teeth in the dark, long and sharp and close, prompts an animalistic struggle. Fingers curl and clutch at D's arms, heels dig into the dirt to push away. All the while the damned Shadow all but croons in Cedrik's mind.

Aren't you tired?

As if in answer, the old man's voice reaches Cedrik in the same moment it seems to reach D. For a beat there is only silence that the Shadow fails to fill, and in it, finally, there is another.

CALL ME.

Wisps of shadow pool at Cedrik's chest and he reaches for it, drawing it forth in the space between them.

It's warm in his hand. ]

[The hesitation is long enough for him to fold back into himself. He actually looks visibly surprised to find himself here like this, above Cedrik, grasping, losing his mind. The expression grows a little more steely again.

Quickly, he recoils, drawing his arms away, leaning up and back, far from the warm shadows. He starts moving, pulling himself apart from the other man, getting up in a swift, guilt-ridden stand. He isn't fast enough, or maybe he is fast enough and it simply doesn't matter.

A sepia-colored memory pours into Cedrik. D still stands above when it's over, looking down. He's aware he should be gone, that he should have left, but this feels like there hasn't been closure.

He needs to make sure Cedrik is alright.]

[ As suddenly as it began, it ends. D...releases him, and steps back. But the call's already been made. The darkness pulses in Cedrik's hand before vanishing. ]

Wait--

[ And then, with the terrible timing it so often has, the Echo has something to show him. Cedrik feels the familiar pulse of pain behind his eyes, the sharp ringing in his ears as everything begins to fade away, the memory taking him someplace far, far away from here.

The darkness reemerges, rising from the ground and taking the form of a man in full armor and a wielding a massive blade on his back. Golden eyes fix on D with an unspoken fury--but Cedrik said 'wait'. He's always been a fool that way. The figure moves not to attack but stands ready, putting itself between D and Cedrik's prone form, the message obvious. ]

...

[ The memory feels like an age. It shows Cedrik a boy, one he recognizes immediately, and patiently shows every torture inflicted upon him, every meticulous effort to make him break.

In reality it's not even a minute, just enough seconds for the silence to drag before Cedrik returns to the present with a sudden exhale. His body aches but he's been through worse, the pain isn't why his eyes are wet.

The dark figure is...struggling. Maintaining a solid form is unexpectedly difficult, but it holds on as long as it possibly can, only beginning to splinter and fade away as Cedrik starts to get back up. ]

[Left behind here, D stands and faces the man who is pulled from the shadows. The red glow to D's eyes is fading, his mouth pulled together in a thin line, displeased with what's transpired. The composure has returned, but there is a hard readiness to his edges as he keeps tall with the new addition.

A shade it may be, D thinks. Something like it. It has a familiar feel, like folding two sides of a single paper together, like the front and back of a coin. D looks at him without saying anything, but without attacking either. He doesn't step back, unafraid, yet he doesn't make any attempt to move toward Cedrik again.

Respect. Whatever D thinks the shade is, it's a sentinel.

He watches it quiver in its existence, then his eyes drop down to Cedrik who is getting up. It's a good sign. He hadn't shown his back out of caution, but now he's wondering if he should turn and leave before Cedrik can get reoriented. It'd be better that way, he thinks. To be gone after doing something so irrationally heinous. His foot shifts, he starts to turn around.]

[ The vision has faded but Cedrik remembers it almost as if it were his own. Certain imagery digs itself deep, refusing to be ignored. The screaming, both the boy's and...the rabbit's.

The Echo has never been known to relay information with metaphors, but if this is an attempt at it, Cedrik isn't a fan.

The viera winces as he sits up fully, looking first to dark figure with an annoyed expression. 'Where in the seven hells have you been,' he wants to ask. But there's no chance to speak, the magic finally failing completely as the darkness evaporates back to where it came from. Which leaves-- ]

D, wait.

[ Cedrik gets back to his feet, ignoring the dirt ground into his clothes and the blood trickling from his arms. He'll follow the man if he has to, this isn't settled yet. ]

[His stop has some hesitation behind it, and he pauses for a long moment before turning somewhat back to Cedrik. The hesitation leaves. He looks Cedrik over clinically, briefly.]

Where are you hurt?

[Since he isn't foolish enough to not think Cedrik is hurt, after all of this, to smell the coppery tang of blood in the air. Then, finally, earnestly but more quiet:]

I'm sorry.

I am not--

[ Cedrik stops his automatic reply to the question, his brow pinching as he silently chides himself. He's been given enough looks from various Scions through his career to know better than to completely brush off a wound. Though it's still a difficult habit to break.

He gestures to an upper arm. ]

Small cuts, likely bruising by the morning, naught that's serious.

[ They really are minor, he's not just diminishing them rather than ignoring them, for once.

Regardless, there's something more important that needs to be addressed. He takes a moment to consider the apology. His first thought is to assure D that he did nothing wrong...but he knows better than that, too. He won't insult the man. ]

You're forgiven, if you'll allow me to apologize as well.

[A part of him wants to argue, and a part of him wants to relish in the injury. The Shadow is festering below the surface of himself. It takes one good pop of inner fortitude to get it to shut up for five minutes.

The hard edges of his face soften into the gentle stoicism he usually wears.]

I cannot accept your apology because it isn't necessary.

[He did the feral woodland creature attacking, not the other way around. Odd shade of darkness appearing to help, or not. That was only deserved. At least, this is what he thinks.]

You shouldn't stay in this maze. Let Sakura or Aspen help you.

It is necessary.

[ Cedrik's jaw is set. He can already feel his own shadow slithering back into his thoughts, trying to dissuade him, but Cedrik refuses to give it the chance. He keeps talking, going as far as to take a step or two closer to D. ]

I ran from you when I should have stood my ground. Even if you're stronger, I did you a disservice by failing to fight back.

[ You've fought enough--

Shut it! ]

I am not a helpless, innocent creature. [ Is that what D sees him as? The rabbit in the cage? ] Give me the chance to prove it.

…

[A quietness overtakes him. He regards Cedrik for a long moment, understanding that he isn’t giving the other man credit, it’s true. He isn’t thinking of the rabbit in the cage from eons ago if only because he doesn’t want to think about that time at all.

The retribution for that lies not with Cedrik, but with another man and his burning eyes.

Finally, D quietly says,] I accept then. [There is no point in arguing Cedrik for such a simple and valid thing as an apology.]

Don’t misunderstand. I don’t think you are helpless. But I should have never given you any reason to have to fight back unless you asked me for a duel.

For that I apologize.

[ For a blessing, his shadow has no commentary to offer while D considers his answer. That alone helps Cedrik put himself at ease and less apt to offer a duel here and now if it will help make his point. It recoils further, not just at D's answer and the relieved feeling it instills, but...

D mentioned a duel himself. The thought ignites something in Cedrik's chest, a raw excitement. D is quite strong, after all.

But not now, no, this isn't the time. That feeling is set carefully aside. ]

Thank you...as I said before, you are forgiven. After all, it seems neither of us were fully ourselves...

[Cedrik is right, and it's what makes D's expression melt into a stern frown. He's not a fan of the loss of control, not when he is what he is, not when it'd be so easy for him to break so many vows he's placed on himself regarding everyone else.

No blood, no violence, no thralls.]

We should leave the maze. [He knows Cedrik will argue this, but:] Perhaps separately.

[ Yes, leaving the maze is a very good idea. Even if there is more to say, it can be said out of this place or on their way-- ]

Separately? What would the point of that be?

[ He knows what point D thinks there is, or at least he can guess. That doesn't make it less foolish. ]

If you're worried about losing control again then it's better to stay together, to have someone watching you. We cannot count on another bystander...

[ Cedrik pauses, brow furrowing. Who was that old man he'd heard, and where had he disappeared to? ]

[A mystery.............. (sweating)

The answer is mostly what he expected from Cedrik. He stands there, watching Cedrik's face pour full of confusion. He wants to argue that he would only hurt Cedrik again in this case, but he's remembering Cedrik's insistence on being strong and capable. Which... he doesn't disagree with still.

Guess he will have to suck it up and go together.]

What's wrong?

Most likely naught, except...

[ Cedrik looks around but he sees no sign of anyone else, though they could have run off while he was caught up in the Echo's vision. Shaking his head he turns back to D. ]

I do not mean to delay us, but I thought I heard a man's voice after you had me pinned. He was calling for you, in fact. Did you see anyone?

[The silence D stand there in may be a bit telling, but he often stands around quietly, so who can say? The conundrum of this situation is that Cedrik specified it was after D had pinned the other man down.

He can't really offer any believable dodging when the voice was right on top of the two of them. So, in honesty:]

It's a parasite.

[ It was more than a little chaotic, but the viera's sure his ears weren't lying to him. All the same when D fails to answer him (and because his poker face is a thing of legends) Cedrik honestly wonders if he misheard.

He's just about to tell him to forget it, that it really was nothing after all, when D does answer.

Cedrik blinks. ]

Like...a talking chigoe?

[HELP. Much to the displeasure of said parasite, D actually..........cracks the barest hints of a smirk. Short, momentary. It's gone so quickly. D does not say anything for a long few seconds.

And then the same old, scraggly voice huffs,] Did he... just call me a flea? A FLEA? [D's left hand emerges from the edge of the cape around him, he doesn't turn it completely upright, but just enough that Cedrik can see the ugly face that's stretched out of the palm.] Does it look like I drink blood? The blood-sucker is standing right in front of you!

That's enough.

[It's firm, but D does not sound angry. Maybe, like, Tired.]

[ A parasite that could be heard but not seen, it had to be something small so a chigoe made for a good guess. D looks far too well groomed to have vilekin on him, but if it's an intelligent, talking one then perhaps he'd tolerate it?

Though maybe he should of thought of that before implying that D has fleas.

It isn't D that's offended, though. In fact it looks like he almost smiled for a second there, before the truth is revealed.

The Warrior of Light's seen a lot of shit in his day, but the wrinkly old visage on D's left palm makes him jump back in alarm. ]

Thal's balls, is that a face?

[ It is. It's also the same voice he heard before, pleading with D to come to his senses. Now it's Cedrik's turn to be quiet for a moment, folding his arms and pressing curled fingers to his mouth in thought. ]

...well, you met Fray, sort of. So it's only fair...

Bah! [the face grumbles as D folds his hand again inside his cape.] He acts like he’s never seen a parasitic entity attached to the hand of a ol’ pretty boy before!

[It’s apparent the thing very much enjoys trying to get a rise out of D when it isn’t yelling at him for being stupid and feral.

D doesn’t respond to it so there’s no incitement. He’s looking at Cedrik studiously though.]

Is that the name of the shade you summoned?

No, that's certainly a new one...

[ The sudden knowledge that there's been a third party to most, if not all, of his interactions with D is certainly something to digest. But it's not as if Left Hand can sneak off to gossip over their conversations to strangers. At least, Cedrik hopes it can't. So really, this won't change much...though Cedrik's glad to have learned it sooner rather than later.

It's not as if you don't have your own secrets--

Shut it, I said.

Cedrik's brow furrows. It's not the secret his shadow was hissing about, but D asks a somewhat difficult question all the same. ]

In a sense... It isn't accurate, to be honest, but referring to him as 'Fray' is simpler. He has ever been a part of me, but only within the past couple of years have I been able to commune with him and call on him as you saw.

...there is something that is suppressing him, I think. It's either the nature of this place or...I'm not sure. But he's been unusually quiet since my...my death.

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