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He was never of sentimental kind.
All sorts of people came tumbling through his life, some staying longer than the other. But the number one rule Ewron set for himself was to not never look back. To not ponder and question, only move forward, no matter the damage.
Ewron kept his gaze lowered, avoiding the reflecting sun that was staining the ocean orange, the kind of burning fires and scorched forests. He could feel the boat shaking, ears flat from its creaking, as it created small ripples on water. From where he stood they traveled like laughter, vicious mockery of his own choices. Today, he decided Ash was to be seen as an enemy. And yet, and yet, the purple boat was like an invitation, a pull he gave in.
His ear twitched. The ocean was never fully silent, a serenade of creatures and humans alike. Something new joined in, rhythmic sounds breaking softly against the water. Rowing. One of his hands moved to reach his pocket, eyes never leaving the spot where the boat's shadow fell.
— What's wrong with you — gripping the warpstone, Ewron’s breath caught in his throat. The boat moved along with water, ripples strengthening.
He didn't dare to turn around, the warmth of the warpstone keeping him grounded. It suddenly got difficult to do anything but breathe.
— You could at least look me in the eyes — a yelp caught in his throat as he toppled to his side, the boat moving suddenly, turning around, its creaking increasing in volume.
The bow hit something, as Ewron turned rapidly, face morphing from initial shock into an angry frown.
His hands shaked a little, just enough to betray him, catching a glimpse of the supreme leader, of the fucking traitor, and lord, his breath hitched. Somehow, Ash was both the most beautiful and disgusting thing his eyes could settle on.
Ewron couldn’t look away.
— What's wrong with me? — he parroted, teeth clenching around the words. — What's wrong with you!? What the fuck is wrong with you, what makes you think you can… you can just come here… — Ash's eyes were red, veins creeping up like spiderwebs. Whatever monologue he had was dying on his tongue. — Ćpałeś?
— This server will soon belong to the Regime — Ash began, voice hoarse. — I can wander on my property however I want. But that's not the point — the boats swayed as he stepped into Ewron's one, water spilling in. He jumped at the cold hitting his skin, wetting the bottom of his robe.
— Get out. Get lost — putting his hand back into the pocket, he shuffled his hand around. Fuck. It's empty.
— The point is — sitting across from Ewron, Ash continued. — I was looking for you.
— I know — he shrugged, looking around. The damn warpstone must've fallen out when he hit the wall. — And have you thought I don't want to talk with traitors?
— And yet,— Ash said, something cold settling into his voice — you still talk to the Hussars.
— What.
— You said it yourself. You're doubting Graf, not trusting Multi — he recalled their talk, the one after their stupid kfc argument. The one he relearned his purpose, his calling. To be a blade meant to never betray and never be betrayed. What weight did the promises hold now? — And if you listened to me for more than ten minutes you'd know I have a plan. You'd know the Regime wants Katie as a puppet, I want Katie to be nothing more than a puppet — Ash scoffed. — In the fight against the Federation every advantage is necessary. Every human must be exploited. There's no time for tenderness at war — no time for it between us, unsaid hanging in the air.
— Well I think you treat her a bit too nicely for a puppet — Ewron leaned in. — Actually, I think, I think you might be getting… bored, let's say. They say to sharpen your blade but you decide to instead abandon it in a favor of another. What, maybe you already promised her the same thrill of death as me? — he's spouting nonsense, they both knew that and Ewron hoped Ash would believe he meant the words. Toying with that man was truly a delight.
— You know damn well I didn't — anger seeped into Ash's voice, and Ewron could tell he's getting annoyed. Good. — Ewron, she’s a stepping tool. There is no one else I wish to kill the server with. But it has to wait, we can't just jump into acti-
— A stepping tool or not, she shouldn’t join! — he didn't even notice when he started yelling. — We have a beef, me and her. It doesn't matter if Żabka will win by your schemes. Tu chodzi o jebane zasady. It's all about that — if the way Ash clenched his fists was a sign of anything, Ewron didn't bother. — You made it clear which side of the beef you support — leaning even more in, he could feel Ash's warm breath against his face. It reeked of burned plastic. — You made it clear a blade means nothing to you, just an assassin without any pride.
— Enough of your bullshit — Ash’s voice wavered, one hand closing around Ewron's throat, firm and sudden, cutting off whatever words he began forming.
Under the sudden shift of weight,The boat shifted when Ewron's boots scraped against the slick wet wood as Ash forced him to the side, tail hitting the boat’s wall seeming to trash alongside the rest of his body.
Out of sudden, the world morphed to an ice veil.
Coldness flooded over Ewron’s senses and he jerked instinctively, hands clawing at nothing before finding Ash’s wrist. Digging claws into it with whatever dignity he had left.
His lungs seized, sharp and burning, begging for air. He clamped his jaw shut, but a thin stream of air slipped free, bubbling uselessly past his lips.
He kicked harder now, twisting in Ash's grip that didn't seem to bulge, a voice muffled by the ringing in his ears booming somewhere beyond.
Heat flared in his chest, growing with ache that made him panic, claws running through the skin of the other, trashing and turning, even if it seemed useless. In the heat of the moment, he opened his mouth to scream at Ash.
Water forced its way down Ewron’s throat.
Its coldness burned, tearing a ragged cough from him that only dragged more of the water in, every muscle tensing as he jerked in desperation. I'm going to die. The ocean filled his nose and mouth, salt forcing itself down his throat, suffocating.
His grip on Ash’s wrist grew weaker.
Spots bursted across his vision, the pressure in his chest becoming unbearable, draining his strength all at once. I'm dying.
And then a violent tug pushed him upwards.
Ewron fell onto his back, barely registering the pain, coughing hard, water spilling from his mouth. Each breath came jagged, wet, tearing at his throat.
His arms trembled as he dragged in another one, carefully as if the air wasn't quite real, as if he couldn't take it for granted. Water streamed from his hair and face, dripping onto the boat in an uneven rhythm.
Ash stood above him, a sly smile slowly blooming on his face.
— What… what the fuck — Ewron managed between raspy breaths. Salt overpowered his senses, cringing as he swallowed it down. — What the fuck was that.
Ash crouched, hand grabbing his face. Blood marked his wrist, and when Ewron looked down onto his shaky hands, it pooled under his nails.
— Will you finally listen to me.
Ewron only found the energy to show him a middle finger. The crack of palm against skin snapped his head to the side, heat blooming across his cheek a heartbeat later. The pain stung, in that nasty way that left him craving for more.
— Hit me — a delirious smile aimed at Ash. — C’mon do it again.
Ash scoffed.
— You really can't stay quiet, can you? Maybe I should have left you in the ocean.
— I'd just respawn dumbass — Ewron rolled his eyes, body tense with anticipation. — You're gonna be a pussy then?
— Oh just shut up — Ash's foot snapping forward and driving into Ewron’s stomach.
The impact folded Ewron in on himself, breath stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat. Oh how he needed this.
His game of chase seemed to pay off.
But even if Ash entertained him, the hate still lingered sour on his coarse tongue, salt only adding to the bitterness. Because the man could have been a supreme leader, yet he was a cockroach, shaped by betrayal. It didn't matter how many times Ash would try and stomp him down - the disappointed part of Ewron would never die.
— Hey so, were you actually high? — asking with a voice forced into casualty, he opened his inventory. — Cause you reek of crack.
— Why do you even care? — Ash shot him an unamused look. — But for your information, yes. Yes I was.
— Sounds about right.
— Excuse me?
— You say, oh Ewron, I was looking for you — eyes focused on browsing the inventory, he mocked Ash, mimicking his voice. — But you actually got high as fuck and stumbled into me or whatever. Why even come here, sentimental much?
— You were the one who came here first — Ash shot back. His jaw tightened, gaze fixed somewhere past Ewron. — I needed to unwind. There’s only so much of you a person can take.
Ewron’s brow lifted.
—So I’m difficult.
— Yeah.
— Great. And you wonder why I let you chase me around but not catch me.
And he lunged forward, sword in hand. It's wild, taking Ash off guard allowing him only slight movement, enough for the blade to miss his torso, cold blade slicing at the man's arm.
Ewron could see the way Ash's pupils got blown, the way his breath stammered for a moment.
— I won't let you catch me. So leave.
— I won't let you go around and fuck up everything I build — anger burns in Ash's voice and Ewron knew.
Everything Ash built. Not the physical walls (no, not them, not really). Not the propaganda, not the fear striking threat looming over like the Federation. Those were just echoes of it. The real structure was meant to forever remain out of reach. Built out of restraint and distance and the refusal to bend.
An assassin always has one weakness.
Ash's was the fact he became too much like the Feds.
That he chose the wrong side.
He didn't even register when the sword was prayed from his loose grasp, too lost in his thoughts.
A sharp, breathless sound tore from Ewron as the blade sank in, his body jolting with it.
Water slapped softly against the hull.
Ewron’s hands twitched, then stilled, fingers curling uselessly against Ash’s sleeve. His eyes dropped, unfocused at first, then slowly noticing the hilt pressed against him.
Ash seemed to freeze in place. Grip tight, like letting go could make it unreal.
Ewron’s breath hitched, uneven.
— I see.
He should expect it. An eye for an eye, something so simple yet so befitting of who Ash truly was.
— I hoped you'd understand — said Ash. — I placed our shared goal above everything else. But you make things so difficult, you are so difficult.
Then slowly, dragging the agony, Ewron tried to withstand by biting at his bottom lip until he could taste the familiar metallic of blood, Ash took the blade out.
— Maybe you just need a reminder of your place — as Ewron fell to his knees, one hand desperately clutching his stomach, white fabric staining red like a curtain caught fire, Ash shot him a soft look.
— Listen to me — he spat through the clenched teeth. — I'm like a disease you can't get rid of. You'll respect me. You'll change your stance on KFC — Ewron's ears went flat as blood began mixing with the water gathered in the boat. — Or I'll destroy you. You and your stupid Regime, all gone to hell. I'll be the poison that kills you — a scream tore itself through his mouth.
— My blade — Ash shook his head. — I already caught you, don't command me. In the hell you speak of, we'll find each other again. Because this island is exactly that.
The moon was slowly coming up, the silver light pooling on Ash, eerie light illuminating his silhouette. He looked like a saint.
He looked like a monster.
<Ewroon was killed by ashswagg using Assassin’s Blade.>
He respawned in Polish Cave, bright crystal patches catching his gaze where they hung from the ceiling, light fracturing across their surfaces. On the right stood Nexe.
— What the hell, you okay man? — something close to worry slipping through his eyes.
— Good night to you too, Nexe — Ewron groaned, hand traveling to his abdomen. All intact. It probably left a scar, nothing he couldn't deal with.
— Good night my ass you just died to your boy-
— No. No. Don't you dare finish that — it came out angrier than he meant to. — Him and I, we're done for.
— Right… yeah. Let's say I'm going to be nice and believe you — Nexe shrugged amused.
— Shut up, dog, we hate him — he turned around, back facing the hybrid, tail waving angrily.
— We? — Nexe laughed. — Since when I’m involved in your couple fight?
— One more word and I'm replacing everything in this cave with golden doors. Even your storage system.
— Geez, okay, sorry princess for bothering your instagram sad breakup.
His communicator buzzed against his side. He pulled it from his pocket, the screen lighting up with a new message info.
— Maybe he'd send you a laurka — Nexe pried over his shoulder.
— I'll burn it on the pantheon. Alongside you — he replied, look turning sour at the message.
<ashswagg : your warpstone and the sword are in the chest on the boat.>
<ashswagg : it's a good thing i have high poison tolerance>
— Whoah, hey, it's this bad? — Nexe observed as Ewron threw the communicator across the cave.
— I'm jealous how easy your life must be — a smile creeping on Ewron's face. — It's hunting season.
He was never of sentimental kind. (And yet…)