Dolphus swallowed - hard - and tried to nod, but his neck wouldn’t allow it. Eventually, something vaguely resembling a nod escaped his spine, but it took a good amount of shoulder constriction to make it happen.
Dolphus’ expression changed instantly from anticipation of grief to a child-like awe as Ari seated him on his ankles. He felt a lot younger all of a sudden, but whether that was through his own willingness or from Ari’s overwhelming, matured resolution, he couldn’t tell.
There was a moment of silence, followed by another. Dolphus stared at her face, lips parted, trying to decipher exactly what was happening. “Ari?” He whispered, reaching towards her cheek. “Are you…?”
She’s sleeping, idiot. Dolphus leaned back, still staring at her face, trying to decide what to do. You’ll have no choice but to trust her. There’s nothing else you can do in that regard. Mariner too, if he knows; confirmation will have to occur once you return to the ship.
His eyes flashed suddenly, and he looked towards the tree. There is one more person…
With a little hyperventilation, a few whispered cries of pain, and a lot of wobbling, Dolphus finally made it back to his feet. Staggering slowly, he made it to the other side of the tree, and stood for yet another moment staring at the man tied to it.
He doesn’t know I’m a Gorov. Captain Althain does, but he doesn’t know about the wing. This man is just like Sickle Setroth; he can ruin me and everything I hold dear with a flick of his tongue. He has no reason for silence; he saw his comrade die in front of him and tried to avenge him, he’s just doing his job. He could not be trusted.
The blade sung as it slipped from its sheath. The point was raised to meet the marine’s throat. It had to pierce his throat. It had to silence that tongue of his, which could do untold harm to him. He had to die.
He has to die. He has to die now. You have to kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Don’t let him live with this secret. He can’t be allowed to know. He has to die. He has to die. He has to die. He has to die. He has to die. He has to die.
The blade refused to move. The mask, while firm, was not quite hard enough to make the choice on its own.