Two Eyes Cenote Close Eyes

The half-breed paused, his mind racing to find the gentlest way to explain such a cruel concept to the youth before him. A hostage is when someone takes something or someone that another person loves very much to make them do something they wouldn't normally. For example, your father loves you very much, so a prisoner might take you to force your father to set them free, he explained thoughtfully. Does that make sense?


Someone has to care, right?

Her question pierced the dog's wretched heart.

He let out a low, dry chuckle, the sound brittle and hollow, echoing off the cold, damp walls of his cell. It was almost laughable that the one visiting him in his darkest hour was not those he held dearest. Those he had trusted most, those he thought might care. It hurt that Senmut had not shown his face in the week that he had been imprisoned here, but the absence of Legend cut much deeper. Had she really forsaken him after all this time? It seemed he had outlived his use. What a stupid, naive beast to believe he could ever amount to anything more than a pretty distraction for them.

Here, instead, in this desolate place, stood the child he had stumbled upon in the twisted halls.

A bitter, ugly serpent whispering confirmations of the half-breed's darkest suspicions slithered its way from the recesses of his mind, nestling into the forefront of his thoughts, coiling around his heart.

I can worry about myself, Machiavelli smiled, though it was a twisted, pained expression. You have plenty to worry about on your own, like growing up to be a good, strong warrior, right?

I'm sure if you really want to come back, someone will bring you. Perhaps your father or the other guard. But if not, don't burden yourself with worry, alright? I'll be okay. His tone was gentle, as he offered her a small, reassuring grin.