Mortar
Legacy Name: Mortar

His brows had snapped together, golden eyes narrowed. The expression on the youthful face was strange, almost comical, and yet something in the depths of the gaze held you back from smiling.

You hesitate for just a moment before repeating yourself a little louder.

"I know the one who displaced you. I know who it is."

"Nobody displaced me," the youth said, teeth gritted in a humourless smile. "I left."

An involuntary chill ran up your spine as the youth turned his back. You take a steadying breath -- there was a reason you made the trip, and it was far too important to flee.

"The Serpent thought you would like to know."

"The Serpent is wrong," he growled, not turning. "You are trying my patience. Leave."

"You don't care what's being done out there in your name? In the name of your kingdom?"

"You know nothing," he snapped.

"I know that the land is dying, and they blame you. And if you are as eager to let it happen as I see you are, then perhaps they are right to," you said with the last drop of your bravery.

You see his shoulders tense, and though you couldn't see his face, the youth's anger was palpable, radiating through the air and hitting you like waves on a cliff side.

"Did I not tell you to leave?"

"Please," you say. "Just hear me out."

The youth spun around, and you catch a flash of red within his furious golden eyes.

Suddenly, it became difficult for you to breathe. You choke out a small sound and stumble backwards, knocking over a number of glass vials in a cascade of tinkles as you double over the edges of your sight already shrinking towards a scuff on the dirt floor.

"And what do you expect me to do for you?" He laughed bitterly as the sounds grew more distant, replaced by a steady ringing in your ears. "I was chaos. I was calamity."

Something soft brushed your cheek. Curious purple eyes filled your sight. The ringing increased, and you could see the eyes bob up and down as the creature chattered, and then just as suddenly as it had gone, the breath returned to your lungs.

You gasp, and then retch as bright lights swam across your eyes. You hear a soft crackle and look to your left, where your pistacho-shell satchel had fallen. A ball of fur with purple eyes looked back, cooing happily as it nibbled on your bag.

"Nothing would change, even if I chose to return to the throne."

The youth was gazing at the creature. The anger on his face had softened.

"Why?" You ask in a wheezy whisper, which gave way to a little cough.

Those brows pushed together again, but he did not snap. "Because the doom that you are so desperately trying to avert? That was me. That was what I represented, and if I go back, that would be the nature I embrace again."