admit it might have been childish of us, but some habits die hard. I found it to be particularly true even when one sets about trying to kill them at every given opportunity. It was a long time since we'd been 'close as brothers', but perhaps there's a reason for phrases like 'brotherly rivalry'.

I digress.

We made insultingly layered small-talk until Arasham dozed off again - as he often did, the old madman slept more than he didn't. It had been a long time since the last I saw Sparhawk for myself, and longer still since Sephrenia had crossed my path; I suppose we owe her some debt of gratitude for not letting the both of us throw away all of that very hard work I did shoving thorns in Sparhawk's side by getting ourselves killed. The private tent of a 'holy man' surrounded by raving zealots isn't the best of venues for an old vendetta such as ours. Steel on steel would've - as she kindly pointed out - had most of Rendor on top of us long before anyone drew blood.

Of course I was disappointed. It was only putting off the inevitable - but again I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I told them a few things I doubt they didn't already know, some of which later turned out to be incorrect in ways I'm afraid even my vaunted intellect couldn't have foreseen, under the circumstances. There are a number of downsides to finding oneself in the employ of a God like Azash; limited by their limitations is just one. Azash had no real gift for subtlety or cleverness - too elemental, driven by his own twisted desires. Besides that, I was hardly at my best.

I made a few clever remarks about profiting off the death of Sparhawk's beloved queen, asked after our the Preceptor, prodded at my brother's scruples and my own lack. Sephrenia asked after the Damork - I'm sure she enjoyed that - and we didn't have much time to ourselves before Arasham woke again. At the time I had a great deal of difficulty discerning quite what it was that they


prompt: pg 57 of your 300pg autobiography [250]
fandom: the elenium
word count: 361

The as-yet-unnamed castle, when Martel first arrives there with his scars and his exhaustion and his inability to lay down, doesn't strictly speaking have a chapel. It doesn't strictly speaking have much of anything, in fact, being only more years of abandonment away from being a ruin. The chapel, though, is more of a specific lack; the former inhabitants weren't faithful people of any particular religion and their home (now his home) reflects that.

He ignores it, for a time.

The bedchambers that'll be in use are a higher priority. Candice's suite, and the rooms set aside for Maria and her child. Guest suites for the possibility of Sephrenia (and by extension his own erstwhile brother) visiting. The kitchens, baths. Work and training rooms. A study. The library needs cleaning, repairing, restocking. He has yet to touch the outbuildings and a stable will have to be built almost from scratch before he can think of horses. Receiving rooms, anterooms. His great hall. There's so much to be done and that's only considering what he needs to be in use now, never mind the sheer enormity of the task if he sets about renovating the entire castle.

It keeps him busy; keeps him from thinking about the ache in his chest under the scar that he shouldn't have, shouldn't have risen from, the absurdity of second chances when he'd systematically and deliberately destroyed any he could've had in life.

In a moment, quiet and deciding whether or not he'd meant what came underneath his words, he remembers the chapel that isn't.

He chooses one of the smaller halls, the following week, drafts a plan with Ewar for what it is he'll need. (Dweia? Ewar asks, and he shakes his head, puzzled.) He puts himself in contact with the smith who'd crafted his armor, sketches out a brief explanation of what he wants.

For the time being, he fills it full of candles and fresh flowers, and regretfully cuts pork out of his diet.



[prompt: 'write about something you cleaned up'.
word count: 327
fandom: the elenium
yes i am applying to theatrical_muse finally, eat it.]