In my blood...
[everything happened so quickly and so slowly, everything that happened is nothing but a haze in Dohalim’s mind. he isn’t sure what had transpired, all he can think about are the dredged up memories he’d spent so long suppressing, tamped down and never to be brought to light ever again. the despair had overtaken him, distant screams and thoughts of death clouding his thoughts as gleaming, liquid silver splashed into view. all he knew after that was unadulterated rage, wanting nothing more than to banish those with him, and to punish those who were responsible.
trails of blood and carnage followed Dohalim to the palace as he tore through any Renan in his path. they could no longer be trusted. the ideals of coexistence is now nothing but a burned up dream; he now sees their true colours. the Dahnans were not the ones at fault here, he could not blame them. but those who got in his way are pulled away by summoned vines as he continues his warpath.
blood splatters the pristine walls of Autelina Palace, an angry contrast to the calming whites, golds, blues and greens, crimson liquid staining the fresh plants and flowers lined up along the walls. countless times had he been met with Renan resistance, clearly those who are dissidents of his rule. they did not stand for very long. the audacity they had to stand up against a lord like him…
vines rip the doors open to his chambers where Kelzelik and his supporters huddle together, eyes widened to see Dohalim stand before them, rod in hand. words are not exchanged as those same vines wrap themselves around those who’d dare to oppose him, their pleas falling on deaf ears as they slowly squeeze the lives out of them. all, except Kelzelik, one of those who Dohalim had trusted the most. one who seemed to follow his every order, his every suggestion, his every dream for this realm. the blood on Dohalim’s hands are also on his former advisor’s, as he gestures to the men struggling around them]
You did this.
[Dohalim’s voice sounds strange even to him, hoarse and pained. maddened eyes stay on the man, standing unflinching as thorns burst from the vines and through those it’s ensnared. crimson blooms of roses blend with the blood as it drips from the petals as he puts to rest those who had tried to seize his realm.
when Dohalim is finally found, he’s still in his chambers, on his knees, arms wrapped tightly around himself as hands grasp onto his shoulders, his breathing is ragged and erratic]
trails of blood and carnage followed Dohalim to the palace as he tore through any Renan in his path. they could no longer be trusted. the ideals of coexistence is now nothing but a burned up dream; he now sees their true colours. the Dahnans were not the ones at fault here, he could not blame them. but those who got in his way are pulled away by summoned vines as he continues his warpath.
blood splatters the pristine walls of Autelina Palace, an angry contrast to the calming whites, golds, blues and greens, crimson liquid staining the fresh plants and flowers lined up along the walls. countless times had he been met with Renan resistance, clearly those who are dissidents of his rule. they did not stand for very long. the audacity they had to stand up against a lord like him…
vines rip the doors open to his chambers where Kelzelik and his supporters huddle together, eyes widened to see Dohalim stand before them, rod in hand. words are not exchanged as those same vines wrap themselves around those who’d dare to oppose him, their pleas falling on deaf ears as they slowly squeeze the lives out of them. all, except Kelzelik, one of those who Dohalim had trusted the most. one who seemed to follow his every order, his every suggestion, his every dream for this realm. the blood on Dohalim’s hands are also on his former advisor’s, as he gestures to the men struggling around them]
You did this.
[Dohalim’s voice sounds strange even to him, hoarse and pained. maddened eyes stay on the man, standing unflinching as thorns burst from the vines and through those it’s ensnared. crimson blooms of roses blend with the blood as it drips from the petals as he puts to rest those who had tried to seize his realm.
when Dohalim is finally found, he’s still in his chambers, on his knees, arms wrapped tightly around himself as hands grasp onto his shoulders, his breathing is ragged and erratic]
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[Zhongli smiles wryly at the apology, reaching briefly to brush a lock of hair out of Dohalim's face. it's a gentle action, one that lasts for just a second before he starts on the way to the bath.]
The weight of our sins can be exceptionally heavy. Nothing can take them back, and it can be hard to continue to take steps forward. If there's even a little I can do to alleviate that, then I'm relieved to do so, as impertinent as that may sound. I apologise that there are few words of encouragement I can offer that wouldn't be empty platitudes.
[it only takes him a moment of fiddling, at least, to get the bath drawing. with that done, he turns his attention back to the Renan - though he doesn't know the extent of his attendant's efforts to assist him, he has some expectation that it might be... rather more than he'd normally expect.]
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he follows Zhongli silently, wringing his hands, picking at the dried blood as it flakes off his skin, idly watching the other man as he fills up the bathtub. any other time, and Dohalim would mention that the water had to be at the right temperature and certain soaps and shampoos were to be used on that particular day. his attendants were so well practiced that they knew exactly what Dohalim wanted, so there were never questions asked. but for now, he'll let Zhonli take care of this to the best of his ability; all Dohalim would want is a warm bath where he can sit in for an indeterminate amount of time.
perhaps it's his penchant for running away from his problems. he can't escape the city walls at the moment, so hiding from everyone and everything is the next best thing.
as the man's attention is drawn back to him, Dohalim glances back for a moment, expectantly, before remembering himself]
Ah... I will also need assistance with my regalia.
[again, if it were anyone else tasked with helping him with his bath, Dohalim would have been more nonchalant with getting undressed in front of them. there is a slight embarrassment in his voice as he asks of this as well; Zhongli had already done so much for him]
If you prefer not to, I can... Try to make do.
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I believe I would rather spare you the ignobility of making do.
[At least right now. The idea of leaving Dohalim to think he's somehow undeserving of assistance, simply for his actions... while they're certainly regrettable, and while there are certainly those who would call it reprehensible, they would do so in complete ignorance of the circumstance.
... a fact that's of absolutely no consequence right now, as Zhongli steps forward. His pity stowed away behind that ever unreadable gaze, hands reach up to find the clasps of his jewelry. They likely brush Dohalim's skin more than a servant's practiced ones, but at least there's no recoil there.
The regalia itself takes a longer moment to figure out, but it's a task the man takes to with duty and determination. Belts, cape, and chains all set aside, the rest is fairly simple, handled with only the clumsiness of someone who hasn't dressed or undressed anyone but themselves in some time.
It feels just in time, too - Zhongli sets the final piece down and his attention drifts back to the tub; the water may be a bit warmer than usual, but he suspects Dohalim will appreciate that. A little heat to help sear away the blood and grime, to focus on in lieu of regret and self-blame. Maybe it's the connection now forged between them, or the slow tug of something in that touch of madness. He knows not, and ultimately... it doesn't matter.]
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he so hopes it'll dissipate and disappear.
it’s clear that Dohalim is more than accustomed to being in a state of undress in front of someone else, nonchalance on his face as he’s completely stripped. he glances down at the tub as the last of his vestiges are taken off, before nodding to the other and carefully climbing in. the water is a little hotter than he would like, but not terribly so; he’s inclined to sit in it for a while. as he settles in, Doahlim sinks lower into the tub until he can comfortably rest the side of his head against the edge of the tub, knees slightly drawn up as he loosely crosses his arms over his waist. he’ll start to wash up soon enough, he just wants to let the heat melt away the tension in his body for a moment.
he sits in silence, giving Zhongli no clear direction on what to do next. he isn’t sure how long time passes, as he lets himself dissociate for just a moment, but when he brings himself back, and spots the man again, curiosity, in the light of everything that had happened, lights up in him again]
…If you don’t mind me asking, Zhongli, but… Just who are you?
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when Dohalim speaks, he opens his eyes again and turns his attention to the man. the question is a logical one, but it's one he struggles to find a succinct answer to.]
Who am I... [lifting his hands, he turns toward the bath, a wry smile crossing his features.] That is a remarkably difficult question to answer aptly. In the simplest terms, I am... rather an old fixture of the world long past. How much of my true history has been lost in the time since Rena's arrival, I... cannot be sure.
I had many names then. Rex Lapis, the warrior God, the Purveyor of Contracts. The Earthen Lord. I suppose... you could say that the power within your Master Core is the culmination of all I bore to my people, so long ago. Its intention... well. I suppose it doesn't matter what I had intended, does it? One way or another, all of us gave up our rule before the war of mankind, and the Renans were the ones to learn how to harness that power without our gift.
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the intended use of the Master Core... of course the Renans would have used it for something else other than what it was supposed to be for. a tool for the current lord of the realm, to show power and elitism above all... whatever it was meant to be used for, Dohalim isn't surprised that it's been twisted to become something else]
The Renans bastardised its true purpose. I must... Apologise, on behalf of my own kind. [Dohalim rests his head back down on the side of the tub again] But to be in the presence of a god...
[a history that had been buried by years of Renan rule. they didn't take kind to preserve any Dahnan history, or history even before that, it seems... Dohalim is sure that, if he were to dive deep into the library, he may find something, but he doubts it. and it only makes him more guilty, upset that the world had forgotten about gods long past.
though, he can't say to himself that he is any better; he'd treated Zhongli as just another member of his court, and just now, treated him like a servant. he sinks lower into the tub, as if to hide himself from the other. not only has he done that, but now the inconvenience of Zhongli tasking himself with keeping a watchful eye on him in case that corruption takes hold again...
perhaps the man, no, god, should have killed him, instead. it would have been a mercy for all, really]
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[with that said, Zhongli exhales a heavy sigh, closing his eyes.]
Mortality so commonly equates godhood with perfection, rather than a force that's really not that different than their own. We're afforded long lives and great power, but we are by no means infallible. We all chose to fade, you know. [a beat, followed by a wry, twisted huff of laughter.] Most of us got to choose, that is.
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[that isn't to say that he's an expert on all of the astral energy in the world, but... earth astral energy is strange. it's like he can feel the very foundations of it beneath his feet, down to the core of the planet. every plant, every stone... it's vague, but it's there, tuned in with his own astral energy.
now that he's bound to Zhongli, the true earth lord of the realm, he can feel more of it. or, perhaps, is it because he can feel the deity within those threaded bonds?
Dohalim considers Zhongli's words carefully, though he finds it hard to believe his words. but then again, that is the point Zhongli is making, isn't it? that mortals had put the gods on such a high pedestal, worshipped them, prayed for their blessings. Dohalim has to wonder if that did stop as soon as the Renans had invaded Dahna, or if it slowly waned]
Were there some that were forcibly faded away?
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[If he were to guess at why Dohalim shows such an affinity for his element, Zhongli would guess that it has more to do with his morality. He's certainly still affected by the mentality and societal norms of Rena, but it's no stretch to say that most Lords - even most Renans - would struggle to have such a deep guilt for their own actions.
To think that he's somehow been corrupted, beneath all that... it's a terrible thing, he thinks.
But Dohalim's question earns a soft hum from Zhongli, and he watches the man for a brief moment.]
When creating a realm for all, hubris and morality show themselves plain. This... began long before Dahna was fully populated, though many of them were after I had become the protector of my fledgling country.
[He doesn't hesitate too much, but it's clearly something he thinks about a lot.]
After we ceased our war... Gods and their ilk are not as immortal as many think. Beyond the obvious differences from one to the next, the progression of time eventually robs us of sense and morality. Creatures who once stood in defense of the land often become its greatest threats... many of them created by deities like myself.
For myself, I entered into contracts with such creatures join their inception - with the stipulation that, should they become a threat to the very land they protected, it would be my duty to see them stopped. Though the face of Dahna has changed, I have fulfilled that intention to the letter.
[It puts an interesting perspective on some of the things that have been found in the world - things that most certainly predate the Renan invasion, sealed away under strange, impenetrable barriers.]
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...Why did you spare me? Why have you entered a contract with me?
[Zhongli has the power to do more than just "stop" him. that much is proven. but the fact that, even after those atrocities he'd committed, instead of killing him, he'd vowed to keep him in check, instead. he's sure Viscint will take its time to recover from all of this, especially those within the palace. and he's absolutely sure that his own subjects would be wary of him. so why...]
Why did you not just kill me when I asked of it?
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[Zhongli considers the question for a moment, mulling over how he wants to answer. it's a complex one, as so much of his life seems to be... but really, why?]
I believe I told you before that you could think of it as my faith in you. Beyond that, though... ultimately, it's because I don't believe you deserve to die right now, nor do I believe you want to die.
[rising up to his feet, he steps toward the tub, hair shifting behind him.]
Unless you'd like to try and change my mind. Perhaps be faced with the actual imminent threat... but truly, I think you're worrying too much. I suspect you're worrying about your reputation - which will change, I'm certain, but not so drastically. You see those you killed as horrible losses, and that is true - but it doesn't change the fact that they were dissenters. They had forsaken Menancia and all it stands for in order to better their own positions at the expense of others.
Were your actions correct? I have no right to say. Questions of such morality should be debated by those who share even the base of morality, not those who didn't so much as bat a lash at the prospect of burying his enemies beneath meteors and mountains. If you asked me, though... I don't believe the loss was so devastating. From my observations, I don't think the people will see you as some horrible tyrant, either. They may be fearful for a time, but what you've given this place far, far outweighs fear.
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what Zhongli says about what he's given to the realm, Dohalim has to let out a derisive huff of a laugh, glancing up at the man as he approaches the tub. unconsciously, he curls up a little more, knees drawn closer as his arms tighten around his middle]
What I have given... Is born from a selfish need to forget the past. It is not to benefit the people for the sake of it, but so I don't have to listen to their cries of pain and despair.
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Do you believe most people operate for the sake of others? That there isn't a touch of fear or regret? Why you did it isn't ultimately important.
My only question is thus: given the same outcome via a different method, would you regret this one? Would you unmake all of the changes you have made if you could simply sequester yourself outside of their sound, ruling from on high without a care?
[his footsteps are conspicuous as he approaches, fine fabric creaking when the man kneels down to dip his hands in the water and raise them to wipe away flecks of dried blood from the Renan's face.]
If it matters so much that you did this in bad faith, why did you enter into a contract with me, Dohalim?
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You made a compelling argument. That my death would not liberate the Dahnans from Renan rule. That my death would waken your influence. Or, perhaps, it simply was because I hold so little value of my life that I would hand it over to someone else.
As for your other point... Perhaps, if I had ruled Menancia with an iron fist... There would be death, that I am sure of. However, the number of casualties would be significantly less. How many have died because of my lack of ambition? How many souls have been lost in the quarry without my knowledge? If I had been what Kelzalik and those Renans desired as a lord, then perhaps... Perhaps I could have prevented most deaths.
[letting go of Zhongli's wrist, Dohalim turns his head to look away from him]
I've never wanted to become a lord. I've never wanted any of this. And yet... I have been dealt this unfortunate hand. I have blood on my hands that I cannot wash off.
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... and yet, it was a choice you could have made. If you wanted to hand your life over to be lived at someone else's behest, we would not be here right now.
[they wouldn't be here, and Kelzalik would be ruling from behind the hand of a puppet lord.]
But why would you prevent the deaths? If you hid yourself away from them, how would you have any interest in how many lived or died? If you had been the Renan they desired, none would be spared. If you truly believe they would have allowed any kindness to those they deemed lesser, you're deluding yourself. Your lack of ambition may be regrettable, but it isn't why this happened. It isn't why no one else knew until this moment. As I said, I am not without guilt in this circumstance.
[water drips from his fingertips, and he watches as it ripples across the still bath.]
... This is not a conversation I can have delicately, in truth. If you feel guilt, if you want to repent for your actions, then you must move forward. Not all memories are pleasant, and yet forgetting them only makes it worse. And simply letting yourself die is an easy escape, cowardly and brief. Guilt, blood, regrets... these can be the ambition that drives you.
You would not be the first, by any means.
[there's a familiar, heavy ache to that, and declined, he shifts to move again.]
... I will continue to answer further questions as I am able. Enjoy your bath, Lord Dohalim.
[he's talking too much, he thinks, about too many things. a break... a break from his own arguments would be fine.]
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he doesn't do any of those things, however. he sits in silence as he tries to consider Zhongli's words. he glances at him in the corner of his eye, view slightly obstructed by his damp, red hair]
I have no more questions. You should leave, Zhongli. I'm sure you have other matters to attend to.
[sure, mere moments ago, he'd requested Zhongli's company, but now... as irritated as he is in the deity, Dohalim also couldn't help but hear the shortness in his voice. as much as he does want to argue, he's also sure he isn't in the right mental state to do so. so perhaps sending him off to let the both of them cool down for a moment may be the best course of action.
though, the very thought of being alone again does play on his anxiety and fears]
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... As you wish. If it pleases you, I will send one of your servants to fetch you. Many of them have been worried.
[he... has nothing to do, ultimately. he'd set anything that had remained aside, but that's fine. there's plenty he can work on, being what he is.
... like cleaning up some of the mess and unmaking most of the vines and things left over from the rampage. he should really speak to some of the Dahnans and remaining Renans, too... at the very least, he's never been bad at keeping busy.]
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which proves to be worse for his mental state, as he suspected. incoherent whispers in the back of his mind start to form thoughts, this time targeting the other man. words that repeat to him, telling him that Zhongli has no right to speak of things he doesn't know about, has no right to lecture him on it. anger simmers underneath the surface, and he can feel his emotions start to slip from his grasp again, but he manages to keep some sort of hold as another servant comes to help him with the rest of his bath.
words aren't exchanged between the both of them, though it's hard to miss the concerned, yet wary way the attendant looks at him as he gently washes him. silence is broken by the sounds of water, but in Dohalim's mind, those thoughts become louder and louder. he almost misses it when the servant mentions that he should get up and into a change of clean, dry clothes. time passes by slowly yet quickly at the same time, and after finally being put in something more comfortable and being led to his bed, Dohalim speaks softly, yet sternly]
Please fetch Zhongli for me.
[he needn't ask twice as the servant nods, and with the bundle of dirtied clothes and towel in hand, Dohalim is left alone again. the anger is not like it was before, but it's enough to grip at him, almost suffocate him. the fleeting hold of control he has over himself starts to slip again]
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the vines, at least, are mostly gone before the servant finds him, a soft clearing of throats catching his attention. he's a little surprised by the summons, but nods nonetheless, slipping past the servant after a murmur of the cleaning that still needs to be done.
his steps echo in the halls of the palace, and there's not even the slightest hesitation as Zhongli opens the door and closes it behind him. the first pause comes at the odd sensation that filters through - it was there before, he supposes, but distant and unobtrusive.]
... Do you require something of me, Dohalim?
[he doesn't quite know what to expect, but it doesn't matter, ultimately. here, he's just as he always is, with that same unreadable expression as ever.]
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I want to ask you something.
[hands come up to slam on either side of Zhongli's head, effectively pinning him against the wall. something almost sinister tugs at their bond as Dohalim lets out a shuddering sigh, leaning forward enough to hunch his shoulders. it's so uncharacteristic to how he usually holds himself, tall and proud]
Do you not feel it? Do you not know what lurks beneath the city, what horrible secrets lie in the deep? Have you not seen it? The Earthen Lord, and he does not know what goes on in his own realm...
[it's not clear if he's talking about himself or Zhongli; his words sounding unhinged in its soft tone]
A different lord would have taken a different path. One like his predecessors. If I had become the lord that Kelzalik wanted, then that lake of Dahnans who have been robbed of their astral energy...
You speak from experience. But have you experienced that? Countless formless bodies fill a grotto under our very feet. How could you not have seen it?
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... Haah.
[it's a soft exhale in the face of that strange tug on their bond, not quite painful, but... strange. unpleasant. so unsure is he that he has no answer for the first bit. for him, after all, the Earth is his most notable worry, and the people... well, he isn't perfect.]
... Bodies, yes. Countless forms unworthy of the end they received. I cannot speak to that grotto; that is not an anomaly natural to any circumstance I knew. [at the press for reasons, he only continues that steady stare, unflinching despite the way Dohalim leans into him, over him.] Do you want an excuse? Something you have a rebuttal for? Something to retaliate against? I am aware of my failures. Why I failed to see it for so long doesn't matter.
I cannot change the past. All I can do is remember it and move on. It's the least I can do.
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[Dohalim leans forward, breaking his gaze away from Zhongli as he presses his forehead against his shoulder. it's warm, like stone in the sun, but strong, like the sturdiness of earth]
I... Lose all sense of control, when I remember, Zhongli. It consumes me... I have always sought for that control, to conceal what truly lies deep within me. But now...
[whatever it is has fully taken hold of him again, threatening to unleash itself again. not in an explosive way like before, but quiet, yet deafening wave that continues to tug at the bond]
Should we not face punishment for our inactions?
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... Sometimes, the pain is worthwhile. Remembering is... worthwhile. Over time, the ache of it fades, but... try, if you will.
[there's an almost thrilling sense of danger to it, as he takes in the tug of their bond. how hard he must be fighting... long fingers move to hold him, light but sturdy.]
How do you mean? Is that pain not enough punishment for you, Dohalim?
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[it's a sudden movement as Dohalim pulls himself back, swift motions have him pulling on Zhongli's arm with unnatural strength. potted plants placed at the foot of Dohalim's bed are knocked over as he shoves the deity onto it, effectively bending him over the edge of it. pressing himself up against him, Dohalim pins him in place again as he mutters softly in Zhongli's ear]
I do not have the luxury of time like you have. A mortal lifetime is but a blip to you, eventually fading into history. Our contract forged, that is my punishment. To live this life... But what of you? What is your punishment for failing this realm and its people?
[a hand slides up to gently grasp at Zhongli's neck, fingers threatening to squeeze at his throat. a small part of him tries to stop what he's doing, tries to pull away, but... he can't. he's lost control of himself again...]
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A mortal life is just as worthy. You-- [His thoughts are put on hold as fingers curl over his throat. That sensation sinks into his bones, sinister and warped.] ... what punishment do you think I deserve, I wonder?
You certainly seem to have an idea in mind... and it is, after all, part of my contract to endure your worst.
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