Sovereign Host: Legion -- Chp 3*

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The yordle's steps slowed down before coming to a halt. Rain was pouring down the purple, water-repellent attire, or at least where it was still intact, before either falling onto the dark cobblestone streets of Teufelheim or finding its way into already soaked, brown fur. He shuddered, only now really noticing the absence of his arctic fur in form of the damp coldness this place had always been. What little smile he had retained died down. Often had he wished for having a moment to himself ever since the snake joined him. Over time, he had grown so used to the company of the demons and actually quite enjoyed it. The more he was struck by the silence, the sudden loneliness really starting to sink in. Their head dipped down, eyes falling upon the foreign, from the rain strongly wavering, reflection. Asriel pulled the hood deeper and picked up pace. Even if they couldn't communicate like he was used to, he was not alone.

Despite being severely injured, they put back quite some distance, carefully maneuvering through the streets the way Asriel had learned from Vyke. On their way, they picked up the driest wood they could find, wrapping it in a torn tarp from one of the houses. As the rain didn't seem to stop anytime soon, they contented themselves with a nook in one of the many ruin portions of Teufelheim. It was nothing more but a roofed corner that maybe covered 8 feet, but it was what Asriel thought to be safe. Decently hidden and far enough off the better ruins that others probably claimed for themselves. He unloaded the wood to form a small fire place before kindling it with fire magic. Stepping to the edge of where the roof gave cover, the yordle made one swift motion, pulling the great majority of water from their fur before using it and the rain to clean his old traveling clothes. After having cleaned the tarp as well, they stepped back into the corner, undressing themselves to take a closer look at the injuries. There were occasional cuts on the arms and legs. The torso, however, was a mess. Asriel immediately avoided the gaze, not wanting to recall these memories again. But eventually, he had to take a look. These cuts must have been terribly deep. And thinking back to how much blood there had been... how could he still be alive? With utmost care, he moved their fingers across the multiply scarred flesh. Whatever Kennen was doing, it worked. Ordinarily, for such a wound to heal to where it currently was, this would have taken way more than just a few hours. There was even some fur growing back. Asriel used the wet corner of the tarp to clean off dirt and blood before using Kennen's clawed hands to tear the rest of the tarp, using it as a makeshift bandage to wrap around the injuries. After having done that, Asriel pulled his old traveling clothes over them, finding a tent to form in his pants almost immediately. The yordle gave a whispered curse as their head reddened in embarrassment.

"As if I had time or energy for 'that'..."

Since the albino had spend a lot of time around demons, it only made sense. Especially as it touched on a kink he hadn't really explored. Similarly to that one time he dressed up in Vyke's clothes, the idea of Kennen currently wearing his traveling garb was strangely arousing. In denial, Asriel sat through this flustered state as he snuggled into the very corner of his safety nook, pulling the oversized hood of his red cape over their head. Good thing adult yordles had roughly the same size. He gave a sigh before unfolding Kennen's purple garments, scanning it for all the damaged portions. Yordles were innately more magical beings than other races. While his mother never studied the arcane arts, she did use this natural gift to repair clothes. Usually smaller holes. Asriel had watched her do it several times. This, however, was no mere hole. Yet, Asriel wanted to try. Not that there was currently much else to do. After having arranging the shreds of fabric, Asriel used magic to hopefully mend the ninja's outfit. After remaining in silent concentration at first, listening to the wind and rain, the yordle started to quietly talk.

"I come from a small settlement way up a far off mountain. I was never really good with the bow, so I mostly went with the gathering group to pick silverberries from the moondrop brushes that grew all around the place. Everyone took care of each other in this small community. It might have been a bit boring, but it was a good, peaceful life. I was always excited to meet a traveler when someone passed through. I'd ask them a lot of questions. I was eager to learn about the world that layed beyond the Whispering Woods. Some would gift us books for our hospitality, tell us stories or teach us a trick. As we were only yordles up there, some of the travelers told us of a yordle who made himself a name. Someone who defeated terrible beasts, captured evil and helped those in need. Someone worthy of being called a hero. Whenever they had finished a story about this yordle, I would ask for another one... He was a great inspiration for me..."

"When I turned 16, I sometimes began to see things. Shapeless, transparent silhouettes. Others couldn't see... and they would always give me this worried look when I mentioned it. So I kept it to myself. That was also the time my talent for magic suddenly spiked. Thinking back... I am quite sure that my magical talent and this trait are connected. As time passed, these silhouettes took more shape, growing less transparent. Fays, elementals, ghosts,..."

"With 18, I left my home to study magic at Evior. That is when I really encountered the other side of life that I had been sheltered from in my home. Instead of working together, people preferred competition, rather working against each other to gain fame for themselves. I mean... I might not have that much social experience, but talking others down or bullying people to be sitting prettier just doesn't seem right to me. But... I learned that this is simply how some people are. I tried to talk to them about it, and as a result became their main target."

"In fear of getting into the bullies' radius as well, I was avoided by my other peers. In an attempt to be accepted, I sneaked into the forbidden section of the school library for a dare. I got quickly shopped, but I managed to successfully hide and eventually sneak out afterwards. The tome I took with me held the summoning ritual for a demon. Against my better judgement, I summoned the serpent. I was just curious to really meet one myself after having heard how bad they are. The demon listened to me, gave me advice, and even taught me magic. He enjoyed the time in this realm, so I summoned him quite often. He was always displeased to return to 'that hellhole'."

"After he had helped me so much, I wanted to help him as well. The ritual was supposed to bind him to my physical form in a way that he would only be able to see through my eyes and communicate with me. However, the demon ended up with a lot more control than I wanted, my body growing features that indicated the demon's presence. I got expelled and hunted since then. As he briefly explained to me later... I am what is considered a sovereign host. Apparently the ritual was correct... and this trait I have was the one reason the serpent ended up with so much influence. I don't know if he knew about this beforehand... but I was very angry at him. But... as we fleed and hid... traveling from place to place... I learned to understand him a lot better. You know... demons are always looked at as these evil entities. Throughout all history. Thus, only bad, evil people are the ones to summon a demon to this realm. Demons come from another place and lack certain emotions, but that doesn't make them bad ab initio. And yet, they aren't even given the chance. Over the time I travelled with the serpent we've grown close... and he is so much better than he himself thinks. He really is... And if it wasn't for him, I would have been taken over by Veigar already... fuck... where are you? Why would you just leave me there..."

Tears were dwelling up, but he held it in.

"I am not as strong as you are, Kennen. I only barely scrape by with the help of others... And usually, I make the lives of those around me worse along the way, no matter how hard I am trying. Tell me... is it selfish of me? Wanting to keep on living with the body I was born with, despite attracting dangerous entities like Veigar to use it as a vessel? Is it really selfish... wanting to live the life I have been given?"

But only the stormy night answered.

"If it wasn't for Brutella, I'd allow you to just end me and my cursed body right after our current situation has been dealt with..."

The yordle threw a wooden table leg into the fire to maintain it.

"She is evidence for how newly born demons are. And she is a true sweetheart. Way more than these jerks at Evior can ever wish to be. I'd hate for her to meet the same rejection as her kin..."

He shook their head.

"Just why is the world so fucked up?"

The yordle sighed and remained silent, working towards fixing the ninja's clothes as best he could and keeping the fire burning before lying down to sleep, kinda expecting to meet the ninja in the mindscape again.

[Take a beat]

At first, all was quiet. Even with the warmth of the humble fire, light braving the ever-darkening shadow of dusk, a chill nipped at the edges of Asriel's shared body. Far more than any demon or ancient ghost, it taunted him, stole from him any sleep deeper than a moment's reverie. And then he began to hear noises. The slow, meandered tapping of stone as the wind grew still as the grave.

Despite the campfire's closeness, its comforting warmth didn't seem to reach them. Clutching his traveling clothes, Asriel curled up even more, gently chafing their face into the ninja's outfit that served as their makeshift cushion. With their short yordle snout partially buried within the purple garments, Kennen's rather unobtrusive scent was quite prominent, continuously reminding the mage of his silent, involuntary host - unitedly near, yet absent - soothing and lulling him despite the lack of communication and keeping the growing melancholy at bay. At least at first. As sleep didn't want to come, time starting to stretch indefinitely, leaving the yordle to quietly doubt and worry as countless questions filled his borrowed space within Kennen's very mind.

After putting everything into stopping and defanging Veigar... why did Fizz and Vyke leave him behind? And that in such a horribly injured body? At the very least Brutella, Longtooth and Fizz must have noticed. After all, Veigar was suddenly robbed of the control he had won over his body, putting the amphibious demon in charge. Was it... that they did not care about him? That they only wanted his body for themselves, uncontested by him and the now dormant Veigar? But why did Fizz and Longtooth go to such lengths to save him from Kalus before that? And how could he still be in control over Kennen‘s body without the snake tail connected? If it’s true what the snake told him, a body and its soul are irrevocably linked and cannot be separated. And yet, here he was, far apart from his body, sensing the warmth and comfort of a soul. It had to be Kennen‘s, but it felt like... 'home'. Somewhat distant, but still rather distinct. And that worried him. Worried him that he might currently be to Kennen, what the snake had been to him for almost a year with the difference of some significant progress that the snake never achieved.

Despite the heavy physical and mental exhaustion, Asriel only seemed to occasionally doze off for mere seconds, leaving him to believe that he was not even capable of sleeping as Kennen was doing the resting and healing for them, only giving him more time to be further crushed under the weight of his thoughts. As it seemed, he wasn’t even able to meet and communicate with Kennen within the mindscape, leaving him entirely to his own devices. Yet, despite how occupied Asriel had been with his thoughts, his ears immediately perked up at the noises, noting the sudden stillness of the wind. The yordle opened his eyes before sitting up and looking around for the source of the tapping sound.

[Hmm... roll Wits + Investigation with a -2 from difficulty]

[Also, take a beat]

[Unless I get to use Kennen‘s Wits, it’s 5 dice: 3,1,6,4,4]

Unable to pierce the gloom thanks to the glare of the campfire's light, the possessed shinobi was left with only the tapping of stone, a growing malaise coming over his borrowed mind. Something was out there. Or was it all a figment of his imaginings - a byproduct of exhaustion, blood loss, and a well warranted sense of paranoia?

No sooner had he gotten on his feet than the yordle already struggled to keep his balance, falling back down to his knees. With a slower, second attempt, a steadier footing was found. It's not that these weakened legs couldn't handle what Asriel demanded from them - in fact, as is, these were still stronger than those of his original body had ever been - it was more about familiarity. He himself being a very recent addition to this body, the mage had to put more focus on these basic tasks and movements than normally. Cautiously, the former albino walked the perimeter to investigate the immediate area around his conceived safe-spot, peeking around the few broken walls. Yet, nothing suspicious could be found, the source of the ongoing tapping sound remaining a mystery. Kennen's weary eyes were unable to make out much within the dark of night, this body's exhaustion clearly being too much. Still, he couldn't shake off this feeling. Asriel returned to the corner of his little nook and sat down. As it seems, there won't be any sleep for him, as Kennen was doing all the resting and sleeping for them currently. He wanted to avoid straining the ninja's body any further to speed up Kennen's recovery, but there was a good chance this place wasn't as save as he hoped. He would sit and listen if and in what way this tapping sound and where it comes from changes, and be generally on the lookout.

[Take a beat]

*Rollz*

No sooner had Asriel turned back towards the light than a sudden snarl rang in his ears - too late, something landed on his back, pushing the possessed yordle to the ground! Whatever it was, it was strong, its finger tips sharp as they pushed against the fabric of Kennen's attire, bruising the furred flesh with ease. The smell far worse, however. It reeked of carrion, the sour odor almost palpable as the creature breathed down on him!

[Take 2 bashing.]

There was no resistance, no fightback from its target, the already heavily injured yordle landing flat on the ground unmoving while the attacker's entire weight rested on his back. Within a split second of being attacked, Asriel understood. There was not much he could do. Not with their current condition. He was even too exhausted to really be shocked. Perhaps Kennen could have fought back... hell, he wouldn't even have gotten into this situation. But Asriel vividly recalled the ninja's words from the recent dreamscape meeting: You are not Kennen Stormheart.
Obvious trueness, yet necessary to be brought up within these circumstances. Asriel had to handle this dire situation the only way he was able to.

"Please... I'm begging you... spare my life... I don't really have much... but take what you want... just... please let me live..."

The bandaged yordle was a pathetic sight to behold. Asriel hadn't even noticed the tears that were running down his cheeks. There was a good chance not only Kennen's, but also his own life were about to end. Not that he cared for his own as much as for Kennen's. Laying there on the ground, something about the reeking odor was familiar. At first, the mage thought this might have come from Kennen's memories, but he soon recalled Gift-Morter Lanx, an aliura entomancer he had a run-in a few days ago when he still had been with his own body. Without making any hasty or suspicious movements, Asriel tried to get a glimpse of his attacker.

[Take a beat]

*Rollz*

From the corner of his borrowed eye, Asriel saw just enough to realize it wasn't Lanx. No, there wasn't enough fur. Just emaciated, gray flesh in the shape of an aliura's face, with eyes white and cataracted like haunted moons over black and yellowed teeth.

Upon seeing Asriel's masked face, the feline forced the yordle to face him squarely. It raised its cracked and jagged claws as it strangled at his throat with the other. The strike was coming down!

*Snk*

A wet, guttural whine escaped the aliura. It fell forward, its head lulling over Asriel's shoulder. That's when the yordle noticed the tip of a halberd pulling out of the creature's back.

"Are you dead?" asked a man's voice.

Do some undead really get to this section of Teufelheim..?!

Forced to stare eye to eye, the yordle gave a feeble shriek, cut short by a strangling hand. The mage immediately fought for air in hopes of unleashing an arcane blast. Flailing about, Asriel desperately tried to free himself. Alas, all his debilitated struggling was in vain, the undead's unnatural strength easily overpowering him. With his strength dwindling further, it seemed like this creature was sapping his very life from him. The yordle's eyes widened at the aliura's raised claws. Even with his fightback intensifying in despair, Kennen's body was simply too spent. Like the reaper's scythe, Asriel watched the jagged claws rushing down at him. Shortly before impact, he shut his eyes before a sudden flash of memories that weren't his own pulled past him, only to be torn out of them as the aliura's stiff hand landed flaccidly and without intent on his chest.

After opening his blue eyes again and realizing that he was not dead, Asriel exhaled deeply and continued to breath again. The possessed ninja looked up to his savior.

"I surely feel like it... but I'm still alive. Thanks to you... I am extremely obliged to you..."

Asriel squinnied as he brought up a hand to hold his terribly aching head, slowly shaking it in hopes of shooing away the echoes of Kennen's memories. To no avail. The yordle turned to look at the unmoving undead that was basically hugging him. Despite the notable difference in height, the aliura's extremely gaunt body wasn't too heavy. A sudden twinge of sorrow. As meaningless as it might seem to others, Asriel hugged the emaciated corpse.

"I hope you finally find peace now..."

The mage put the aliura down and closed their eyelids. After taking another moment, the possessed shinobi turned his attention back to the man who saved him, giving him a more thorough look-over.

[Take a beat]

The figure took a step into the light of the campfire. He wore a salvaged bits of armor over brown rags, particularly for the arm that carried his halberd. His face, however, was obstructed by a scarf and a helmet that had seen better days.

"How injured are you?" he asked, his voice calm and measured.

With an expression of worry and uncertainty taking hold beneath the mask, Asriel looked off to the side as he pondered the honesty of his answer. Kennen had been very gravely injured. Though with that answer, the stranger might want to take a look and it would be difficult to explain the supernatural healing process these wounds had already gone through. From this near-death encounter, the mage had learned another important fact. Unlike with the demons, Kennen was not able to act at all. As it seemed, he was completely unable to take any form of control over his body. This meant no assistance in crucial moments like he knew from the demons. Not only was the prevalence he held over the hero worrying, but the sudden pressure of solely holding Kennen's faint life in his hands was crushing. Asriel began throwing reproaches at himself for poorly handling the situation and getting them into it in the first place.

"I'm... gravely injured..." The yordle eventually replied truthfully, eyes returning to the man's hidden face. "...it happened before this attack..."

This was not the time for doubt. Especially after he had saved him. And without Vyke or the demons, he could really use an ally. Though being hunted and on the run for over a year now while avoiding the people around him, Asriel was not really sure how to socialize.

[Take a beat]

"May I see?" asked the stranger, gesturing with his halberd at the yordle's wound.

The yordle hesitated for a moment, seeing as his main worry did come up immediately. Still, he decided to trust this stranger and nodded before getting up, doffing the ninja wrap and the hooded top to reveal the many makeshift bandages that were covering Kennen's torso. As he was unsure what to say, still wordlessly and with hot-throbbing head, Asriel started to peel away layer after layer to show the man what he... what Veigar had done to the shinobi. Despite them having healed quite a bit, he avoided looking at the countless wounds himself, anxiously focusing his vision on the stranger to see and read his reaction.