Stabbed Plea

Everything was dark and cold, from the chilled concrete floor to the frozen glass walls that formed an unfriendly, sanitary cell around each of the two Rethavok. Small blue-white lights were the only thing that allowed the two Rethavok to see what was going on. There were seemingly no entrances or exits, aside from a single, heavy, barred door in the corner. That door had not opened yet, at least as far as the two Rethans were aware.

Water and food – nothing more than sickly, salted porridge – had been somehow brought in to them while they had been unconscious, but now that they were awake, neither Retvik nor Trismit were really in the mood to eat.

Aside from that, nothing had happened, up until a few seconds ago, when they both heard a quiet, hissing sound.

“Are you two awake?” a voice suddenly whispered as a small, dusty black cloud slipped under the almost impossibly small gap underneath the door. “Please be awake, we need to get out of here…”

The cloud gathered up in front of the cell the larger Rethan was contained in and began to change shape, first into a rather solid, black, amorphous blob, then into the shape of a rather small Rethavok, plated in yellow armour.

“You’re both awake! That’s great! Let me just-“

“Where have you been, Thantophor?” Retvik snapped. Retvik’s voice, although whispered, was clearly filled with anger. “You could have helped ages ago and only now you appear, to save Trismit and myself?”

“I know! I know I know I know! And I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I just hope I got here in time before Kenon notic-“

In the blink of an eye, the Thantophor found himself pressed against the wall of the glass cell, a dark blade piercing through his chest and stomach, pinning him in place. Godly blood splattered across not only the outside of the cell, but into it as well, hissing as the Death God’s acidic internal fluids began to eat away at the floor. Standing behind the Thantophor was another god, Kenon, the Void Lord.

“I thought I told you not to intervene with my plans, Arkadin?” Kenon tutted, pulling the blade out of the Thantophor and letting him slide down the window, slumping on the floor.

Arkadin tried to pick himself up, muttering something about cleaning up his blood, only for Kenon to place his clawed foot on the back of Arkadin’s neck.

“Why are you intervening with my plans, Arkadin? Did you not learn the first time?”

There was no answer. Kenon kicked Arkadin away from the glass cells, onto his side.

“I am SPEAKING to you!”

The Thantophor stuttered, looking past Kenon, at the two rather horrified Rethavok.

“I don’t want you to hurt my friends…” Arkadin finally sputtered, picking himself up. “I was going to bow to your ways, let you do what you want because of my pitiful people-pleasing ways, but I care deeply for Retvik and I care about Trismit and I don’t want you to kill them or hurt them. I know I cannot stop you, but I am pleading you, please, do not hurt the two mortals I care about most.”

Kenon crossed his arms, pausing only to wipe blood of his hands. “And why not?”

The Thantophor shuddered, fixing up his wounds, pushing internal organs back inside his body. “Because this… whatever it is you’re doing, it pains me. You’re taking the things I like and brutalizing them. It’s tearing them apart. And I don’t want to make this about me but… It’s tearing me apart too. Making me desperate. And when I get desperate, I do… desperate, stupid, dangerous things. I make things die.”

“That is-“

“JUST FUCKING DO AS I ASK!” Arkadin suddenly shouted, throwing himself at Kenon, his own massive, black talons inches away from Kenon’s neck. “ALL I WANT is for you to treat those two like decent beings! I know they have magical powers you want to reproduce! I know they have some of the best genetics around! I know you want to explore all of that, but in the name of Kinisis herself, you WILL fucking look after them! Treat them like the little royals they should be!”

With a tut, Kenon pushed Arkadin away again, throwing him against the cold, hard floor.

“Is that all you want?”

“It’s what I think I can get from you. You won’t let Retvik go. You won’t listen to me about any of this. All I can do is ask that you treat them right. You have the power, you can really look after them. And the better you look after them, the longer you keep them away from death.”

“Hmph…” Kenon pondered Arkadin’s words, them shrugged. “Very well. You make a valid point. I will treat this lot… like royals, as you suggested. But you had better remain true to your word, keeping out of touch like I originally asked. That includes any Rethavok outside of my influence.”

“Very well…” Arkadin sighed. “Can I just… say something to Retvik before I go?”

“Of course.”

Kenon stepped to one side, opening a panel in the side of Retvik’s cell. Retvik himself remained in the opposite corner, keeping away as best he could. As Arkadin approached though, Retvik backed away further.

“I’m sorry…” Arkadin muttered.

“You are always sorry. You never actually change though, do you?”

The Thantophor blinked, then teleported away in a puff of smoke without any hint of a response.

Once the smoke had cleared, the entrances to both cells opened up, and Kenon led them both out. He patted Retvik gently on the shoulder, smiling down at him.

“You are very lucky to have him care for you, but also very wise to push him away!” Kenon grinned. “You do not want to know what happened to… the last being Arkadin cared so much about… Anyway!” the Void Lord clapped his hands together in glee. “Let us go and prepare some nice, fresh quarters for my two royal companions!”