TO DAZZLING DARKNESS, scraps

04 | Human-Clad Monster (4)

04.1 | Even in the dead of night the regret stays alive

"You look troubled. Tell me what burdens you."

Duma's attempts at feigning compassion no longer affected Fernand. If he explained now, there was a chance that the Mad God would take advantage of his vulnerability. But ignoring would make the situation worse for him. He had no choice. "This... this doesn't concern you," He whispered to not wake anyone up.

"You are despairing. And if it truly does not concern me, then should it not concern you? Are you really losing sleep over something so minuscule?"

"I said it doesn't concern you." Fernand snapped, sitting up and glancing out of the window. "Why the hell do you care so much about me?"

"Are you still worried about your family?" Duma asked bluntly. Fernand's blood ran cold at the mention of it. Just how much did this excuse for a 'god' know about him? However much it was, it was too much for him to be comfortable with. "I am not wrong, am I? You still feel guilty about it. Not just that. You are motivated by them. Is that not why you were fighting? To dull the pain? Is that not why you still train?"

"Y-you're wrong." Fernand stood up and began to limp over to the doors of the infirmary. "All of them are gone now," He said defensively. "I... I've moved on. I'm done here."

"If that is how you react, then you have not moved on yet. I have noticed how withdrawn you are around children. And still you insist that you are 'over it'. I doubt that... What are you doing?" Duma said, failing to stifle his anger.

Fernand ignored Duma as he continued to stagger out of the building and into the cool air of the night. "Stop talking to me." He winced as the breeze began to cut at wounds that he hadn't noticed had re-opened. "Damn it. And to think the stitches would hold for longer than a day."

"You still have not answered my question."

"You don't deserve an answer."

For once in the days since his revival, Duma fell silent. Not the silence of being lost in thought, but of shock. Fernand kept silent too, anticipating the War Father's next move.

Duma sighed, the guttural noise breaking the silence and instilling fear into the nobleman. "Are you always this cold to those who want to help you? I offered to heal your legs. You dismissed me. Only when you were desperate for their benefits did you return." Fernand walked back into the manor, locking the door behind him. He slowly climbed the steps back to the infirmary. "I offered to heal your wounds. You dismissed me again. But worldly medicinal practices can only ease the pain for so long," Duma continued, watching Fernand salve the gash on his arm.

"I don't know if I can trust you." Disinterested and annoyed, Fernand re-wrapped his wound tightly.

"It is not your 'trust' I desire. It is your 'respect'. Have I done anything to personally wrong you?"

"You... You caused... I..." Duma's question left him at a loss for words. Despite the dragon's power being the reason for his death, Fernand couldn't find a single instance of Duma slighting him. "I don't want to hear another word from you until tomorrow."

"As I expected." The smugness in Duma's voice was almost palpable. "Will you at least tell me what you intended to do out there?"

"...Training."

Duma laughed, content in being correct a second time. "I knew it."