Plagued by Inertia

She didn’t understand.

Of course she didn’t. She was human.

Winds gazed blankly into his master’s eyes. His own were dulled, as dull as any obedient Divinations with the life torn from their soulcores were.

“Now, I trust you’ll do as I command, this time?”

To be human was to be an individual, and therefore unable to ever fully understand another’s existence.

“Yes, my master,” his own voice intoned, perfectly emotionless.

To be a Divination was to be completely subject to the will of another, to complement their existence as an extension of their being.

Hafest smiled, a brief glint of teeth under the Light stones. “Then go.”

He turned as he was ordered, as any Divination should, and left the villa behind, disappearing into the darkness.

No stars accompanied him, this time, the wind barely stirring his cropped hair as he flowed silently down through the streets, a mere shadow. No one saw him, his form already gone by the time they thought they sensed something, the dark lit only by the occasional lamp or Light stone. Glints of moths flickered, curled vines throwing shadows across the cobblestones, night insects clicking softly. His feet made no sound.

He had never told her why he’d disobeyed. Perhaps she would have thought differently of him if she’d known he would be sent to hurt the one she loved.

Or perhaps she would have thought retaining his “humanity” would stay his hand.

Yes, he could see her doing it simply because she knew that “her” Winds would never hurt Seih Hestas. It was interesting, then, that she should save him from being reset without knowing.

The concept of “friends” was... strange.

He hopped lightly up onto the wall running around the back of Seih’s villa, separating its grounds from the street and the richer residential area, the breeze streaming his cloak behind him. The lights extending from the stone didn’t illuminate him, nor show any people on the road.

Pushing lightly off, he soared across the distance, landing smoothly in a silent roll on the flat roof, cloak fluttering down amid pots and planters filled with herbs, their scent spicing the air. Quietly, he prowled through their neat, well-cared for ranks, tiny glow-flowers on the hanging paise-leaf attracting equally small bizzmoths.

He fell through them as he hopped down through the herb-chute to land light in the kitchen, a few fluttering out of the folds of his cloak and spiralling back towards the light. All was quiet and dark.

All apart from a pair of silver eyes that opened as he slipped through the woven archway into a simple dining room, the other Divination’s white hair standing out in the dimness.

Winds stilled, watching, the other watching back. |Voice of Fire.|

|Winds of Light and Shadow.| There was a rumble in the other’s sense, his eyes narrowing, a quiet crackle dancing at his fingertips.

|I am not here to harm him.| He stayed still. |I am here to warn him.|

|Your master didn’t send you?|

Tilting his head, he released his command of the light, allowing the shadows to melt from his form and his eyes to glow. |He did. But I am not here to do his bidding.|

Voice didn’t move, his hands remaining at his sides, still crackling with the ominous beginnings of a fire. |You will not harm him?|

He dipped his head. |No. I give my word as a being of my own will.|

The soft sizzle died away, a sense of wistful sadness greeting him in the other’s silver eyes as he looked up again, their glow dimming. Voice stepped aside. |...I envy you.|

Winds nodded to him, slipping past. |You have no need of it. Your master would freely allow you your own will.|

Silence followed him as he padded through the living space—more of a simple transition between the Domini’s chambers and the rest of his house than Hafest’s—his passage barely ruffling the leaves crawling up the wall, a simple lamp hanging from a wooden rafter throwing his shadow towards the door.

Its soft squeak wasn’t enough to stir the form lying on the bed at its centre beneath a recessed skylight. Neither was his silent presence entering to stand over him.

For a moment he simply watched, noting subtle twitches and not-quite even breaths. Dreams were an interesting subject among humans. It seemed Seih’s were not peaceful.

Softly, a blade partially extended from his wrist, glinting subtly in the dim light to form more of a dagger than a sword. Dulling its edge, he slipped it up against the Domini’s neck, pressed to the skin.

Seih woke with a jerk, his eyes flying open and his hand snapping up.

If the edge of the knife had been sharp, and Winds’ reflexes slow as a human’s, the man would have slit himself open then and there. Expertly flicking it back, he prevented any possible injury, stepping back to give the startled Domini room to compose himself.

He was breathing hard, hand pressed to his throat, gaze on Winds’ shadow and locked on his eyes, every muscle rigid. Unfortunately, whatever dreams plagued him had probably not had a pleasant end. Judging from his expression, he thought it was still ongoing.

Winds tilted his head. “I apologise for disturbing you.”

“Wha— what?” Seih said groggily, still breathing harder than normal. “Who...? Wind— Winds?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you— what are you doing here?” Seih’s hand drifted down from his throat as he squinted, only to reflexively dart back up again to brush his skin, bewildered. “Were you holding a knife on me?”

“I was.” As Seih ran a hand through his hair, obviously not making any sense of what was happening, Winds decided to take pity on him. “I was sent by Domini Hafest, who planned to have me intimidate you into silence.”

“Well, you’re not doing a bad job,” the man murmured, a shudder wracking him as he gingerly touched at his throat again. Glancing back up, his eyes focused, turning sharper, though a hint of tightness still lingered around them when they met his. “Brei said something about Hafest trying to have your soulcore wiped.”

“Yes.” Perhaps having a pair of glowing gold eyes staring at him out of the dark was unnerving, he thought with a flicker of wryness. Gathering the small amount of ambient light, he amplified it without twitching a finger. All they needed was a moonlight glow. Seih still squinted, shading his eyes. “He wanted me to threaten you with assassination. I refused. Brei saved me from being reset.”

“So now you’re playing a disguised angel among men.” The corner of Seih’s mouth quirked up, and turned wry. “Did you really have to actually threaten me, though?”

“I must follow my commands,” he said blandly.

“...This feels like revenge for something I did.”

“It’s impossible for a Divination to be so petty.”

“Uh-huh.” A genuine smiled cracked across the man’s face, chasing the shadows away. It faded to something more serious again a moment later, his brows furrowing. “So old Hafest wants to silence any opposing voices, does he?”

He nodded, stepping to the side, closer to a partially-closed window on the other side of the bed. “In his opinion, it’s in our best interests to stay out of things. He believes you’ll advocate for war.”

“Well....” Seih watched him as he worked the latch to open it at the seams instead of the slats. “You’re leaving already?”

“I shouldn’t linger. He’ll expect me back and ask me for a report. If I take too long he’ll be suspicious.” He rested his hands on the window’s rim, prepared to step up and leap out.

“Do you think he’s right?”

He met Seih’s eyes. It was a novel thing to be asked for his opinion so casually. “I believe some of his points are valid. I don’t agree with his methods.”

Seih’s expression turned troubled. “I see.”

It didn’t matter. Whichever way they went, they were doomed to fail. If it wasn’t one, it would be the other, but Seih was human. He wouldn’t accept that argument. Turning, Winds stepped up on the window ledge and dropped out into the night again.

“Have better dreams, Seih Hestas.”