Romulus bounced his way down into the belly of the beast, his head filled with the sounds of cracking lightning and booming thunder. He left bloodstains on the ladder, a thick splotch of it where he hit the floor. His vision was blurry, his entire body heavy as though his limbs were encased in ice. One stab shouldn't have put him down, but as much as he hid it, the effects of the potion Anais had given him were slowing him down, throwing his mind into a fog, fighting every motion of his limbs.
He'd dropped his dagger during the fall, and by the torchlight underneath the deck he could see it. He crawled forward towards it, the sounds of the battle raging above returning to him. He reached, but a strong hand closed around his wrist before he could grab hold of it. His eyes shot upwards. Borja. Somehow he'd never really noticed the pirate lord's impressive size until now, when he was towering over him. He raised the Herald's right arm, and kicked down on it hard with the flat of his boot. A sickening snap accompanied the breaking of his arm, and Romulus cried out in pain. Borja crouched down, seized him by the collar, and lifted him up off the ground, carrying him backwards until his back slammed against the nearest wall.
"Pay attention, runt," he growled. "If you and your friends are bringing me and my crew down, so be it. But first I'm going to make this hurt." A right hook collided with Romulus's jaw, and then Borja was carrying him, a feat he performed with ease, from room to room, smashing his back and sides into seemingly every object they passed. A few crew members remained below, weapons drawn. "Kill anyone that makes it down here!" Borja ordered them.
They were somewhere near the very back of the ship by the time Borja stopped. He hurled Romulus across the room, some kind of dimly lit storage space, where he crashed against hard wooden crates and tumbled to the ground on his back.
The smell... somehow it was the smell that was most familiar to him. The sea salt, the sweat, the blood. Then the sound. Smashing waves, cracks of lightning, thunder that shook the world, and above it all, the sounds of battle above him. Monsters coming to kill his parents, coming to end him before his life could even begin. One of them stalked outside the room, and his mother put him down, turning to defend him. She had no skill in battle, not like the monsters did...
"We could have had it all," Borja grumbled, cracking his knuckles as he watched Romulus writhe on the ground. "But you threw it away. Didn't have the foresight to think, and stop yourself from opening your damn mouth. Anais always thought you could be turned around to it if you found out, but I knew. I knew—gah!" A crossbow bolt thudded into Borja's hand, launched from the weapon Romulus kept on him. A poorly aimed shot, considering the result. Fury twisted across the pirate's face, and he ripped the bolt from his palm with little hesitation.
His mother sang to him, before the monsters broke down the door. A melancholy song, a dreary song, but it had been a dreary day, and a stormy night, the darkest of nights. She had lost hope for herself, lost hope that she could protect her son any longer.
"See how the rain has washed away
The tears that you were crying?
Though the darkness calls me down
You know we all are dying."
"I was a merciful man, once," Borja hissed, closing the distance between them quickly and ripping the miniature crossbow from Romulus's hands. "But today has taught me, if nothing else, what the price of mercy towards your enemies is." He grabbed him by the shirt again, hauling him up against a tall crate and punching him solidly in the gut, right against his stab wound. "Ten years, twenty years... doesn't matter. Someday, it comes back. And it haunts you." He pulled a knife from his belt, and stabbed it into Romulus's chest, just below the collarbone. He screamed and squirmed, but there was no escaping.
"Hear the rain upon the leaves, above the sky lies grey.
A shred of blue would be denied. Alas, he could not stay."
The monsters had killed everyone who tried to fight them on the deck. His father had gone up there, sword in hand, vowing to protect his wife and child, or die in the effort. He did so, when a hulking monster slit his throat, and dumped his body into the raging sea. A forgotten man, with forgotten bravery to save a wife who loved him, and a son who would never remember him.
"She came to me, this redheaded witch," Borja said, slowly twisting the knife, "and she said, 'Adan Borja, would you like to be the father of a god?' And I said yes. I'm an old man, tired of my petty victories. Would that be my legacy? Why, when I could be the man who spawned the Blood of Andraste?" He ripped the knife free and hurled Romulus across the room again. He landed on his side near the wall.
"Birds reel across the endless sky, above a house upon the plain.
In memory she sings to him of a time before the rain.
Sweet Andraste, hear our song
For his road will be ours too.
Before darkness claims our souls
Let us see that shred of blue."
Borja rushed over in a fit of rage and kicked Romulus hard in the gut, bashing him against the wall, the boot coming away bloodier and bloodier. "I'm a man who knows how to control himself, play the role, and I did! Why couldn't you do the same?" He glowered down at the Herald, who coughed blood at his feet. "I could've been your father, if you were willing to play the part of son! Blood doesn't matter, you fool. Only the appearance, only the story."
The monster outside kicked the door down, and marched into the room. He was a hulking figure, menacing and clad in red, his blade dripping crimson with the blood of all those who had tried to defend themselves. All those unfortunate enough to be in his way.
"Hear the rain upon the leaves, above the sky lies grey.
A shred of blue would be denied. Alas, he could not stay."
Borja knelt down, grabbing Romulus by the jaw and forcing him to look up. "But I'm not your father, you fucking slave. I'm the bastard who slit his throat."
A loud bang sounded from somewhere just outside the storage room, along with the unmistakable sound of someone gasping for air they weren't going to get. A corpse fell halfway through the doorway, sightless eyes rolled back in his head, and Khari stumbled in after.
Truth be told, she didn't look much better, freely bleeding from what must have been half a dozen wounds at least, but she had the wherewithal to get out of the way the first time Borja made a grab for her, ducking under his hand and trying to bring her sword up and around to strike him.
Her swing was a bit too big for the space, though; she couldn't get any real momentum going. He caught her arm, wrenching it to the side; she lost grip on the weapon, which clattered to the ground. Borja kicked it well away from her reach. Slamming her back against the wall one-armed, he stabbed the knife right through her hand, pinning it to the wood behind her with a nauseous thud.
Khari's cry was swiftly cut off; Borja's free hand closed around her windpipe. She kicked and scrabbled frantically against the hold, but he was far stronger than she was, and the close quarters granted her no leverage.
"You're lucky to have friends like this," Borja commented sardonically, looking down at the struggling Romulus as he continued to hold Khari in place. "Or perhaps unlucky. Rosamara didn't have to watch anyone die in front of her." He released the choke hold on her and took the few steps needed to reach where Romulus lay.
With a wordless shout, Khari lunged for Borja, only to be stymied by the knife still pinning her hand to the wall. It was clearly driven in far enough to stop her cold. Her voice cracked hard a moment later; fresh blood welled from the wound in her palm. Khari bit down hard on her tongue and turned, trying to use her free hand to dislodge the knife with no success.
"Fuck." It was hard to tell exactly what she said between gritted teeth, but that was the gist of it. “Rom, get up, you've got to—" The rest was lost to the pain of another failed attempt to pull the knife free of the wall.
He crouched down again, glancing back at Khari to make sure she wasn't going anywhere, before he looked once more to Romulus. "Rosamara didn't have many friends. She was no descendant of the divine. She was a thief, a swindler, a whore, and one day she angered one man too many. She thought of Conrado as a friend, but he was a wise enough man to know what side to take, and he sold her out to me and mine." He sighed almost wistfully, as if thinking back on the memory brought him great pleasure. Then his fist came down hard once more on his wound, as though he simply couldn't stop himself. "We were going to live as kings for this. Anais swore to it..."
He stood, towering over Romulus, and rolled his head about, his neck popping several times. He exhaled slowly. "Even for me, there were lines I could not cross. After I'd killed everyone else, you remained. A little baby with a marked face. Now a grown man with a marked hand. How was I to know what you would become? How was I to know that leaving you behind would one day lead me to my end?" He clenched his jaw, as though imagining the moment, and how it might have been different if he'd simply tossed the baby in the sea instead of leaving him on the deck for the marines of Tevinter to find.
"But I promised you this would hurt. It didn't hurt much for your father. Overpowered him, disarmed him, slit his throat. But your mother..." He walked back to Khari, seized hold of her throat again, grabbed the knife, and ripped it free from the hull in a bloody spray. He held the knife up to Rom. "Your mother I gutted when she threw herself at me. It went something like this..."
He pulled back with the knife, but before he could stab it forward Romulus was on him. Some force had propelled him to his feet. Maybe it was the softening of the rain outside, the way the ship had stopped swaying so fiercely. The way the sounds of battle above had all but ceased. His entire body screamed in pain but he forced himself forward and reached out with his left arm, the unbroken one, with the green glow of his marked palm.
He grabbed hold of the back of Adan Borja's head and instantly the pirate lord roared in pain, releasing his hold on Khari and freeing her. Romulus staggered with Borja sideways as the glow on his hand intensified, and the captain fell to his knees, his entire body shuddering with some energy that flowed through him. He howled in pain, a green light emanating from his mouth, and then his nostrils, and then his eyes. Romulus gritted his teeth and tightened his grip as best he could, trying to avoid collapsing on the weakness of his wounded leg.
Borja's wail of pain echoed with an unearthly intensity, until his entire head imploded in a blast of green light from within his skull. Whatever the mark had opened there immediately closed again, sending bits of bone fragments and brain matter raining down around the now headless body, which collapsed forward and remained still. Romulus stared down at it for a moment before he too fell, tipping over backwards and hitting the deck hard, too tired to keep himself upright any longer.
A softer thud echoed the one he made; Khari had slid down the wall to the ground as well, cradling her wounded hand in her other. "Son of a mabari bitch." The words were breathy, accompanied by a soft groan; she listed somewhat to the side, bracing herself with an elbow to one of the storage crates. That one was still mostly intact.
The sound of her gulping in air was audible for a while. "Rom, are you—fuck, I don't know. You're... conscious, right? I should—I should get...someone. Stel or—or someone." She didn't stand, though; she might not have been able to.
"No..." he managed, letting his marked hand roll over, palm up, in her direction. "Just stay here. Please stay. They'll... find us." He took in a few breaths of his own. There was almost no way to process what had just occurred, other than to feel the pain in every part of his body. One thing he knew for certain though.
"The storm, Khari... it's over."
He'd dropped his dagger during the fall, and by the torchlight underneath the deck he could see it. He crawled forward towards it, the sounds of the battle raging above returning to him. He reached, but a strong hand closed around his wrist before he could grab hold of it. His eyes shot upwards. Borja. Somehow he'd never really noticed the pirate lord's impressive size until now, when he was towering over him. He raised the Herald's right arm, and kicked down on it hard with the flat of his boot. A sickening snap accompanied the breaking of his arm, and Romulus cried out in pain. Borja crouched down, seized him by the collar, and lifted him up off the ground, carrying him backwards until his back slammed against the nearest wall.
"Pay attention, runt," he growled. "If you and your friends are bringing me and my crew down, so be it. But first I'm going to make this hurt." A right hook collided with Romulus's jaw, and then Borja was carrying him, a feat he performed with ease, from room to room, smashing his back and sides into seemingly every object they passed. A few crew members remained below, weapons drawn. "Kill anyone that makes it down here!" Borja ordered them.
They were somewhere near the very back of the ship by the time Borja stopped. He hurled Romulus across the room, some kind of dimly lit storage space, where he crashed against hard wooden crates and tumbled to the ground on his back.
The smell... somehow it was the smell that was most familiar to him. The sea salt, the sweat, the blood. Then the sound. Smashing waves, cracks of lightning, thunder that shook the world, and above it all, the sounds of battle above him. Monsters coming to kill his parents, coming to end him before his life could even begin. One of them stalked outside the room, and his mother put him down, turning to defend him. She had no skill in battle, not like the monsters did...
"We could have had it all," Borja grumbled, cracking his knuckles as he watched Romulus writhe on the ground. "But you threw it away. Didn't have the foresight to think, and stop yourself from opening your damn mouth. Anais always thought you could be turned around to it if you found out, but I knew. I knew—gah!" A crossbow bolt thudded into Borja's hand, launched from the weapon Romulus kept on him. A poorly aimed shot, considering the result. Fury twisted across the pirate's face, and he ripped the bolt from his palm with little hesitation.
His mother sang to him, before the monsters broke down the door. A melancholy song, a dreary song, but it had been a dreary day, and a stormy night, the darkest of nights. She had lost hope for herself, lost hope that she could protect her son any longer.
"See how the rain has washed away
The tears that you were crying?
Though the darkness calls me down
You know we all are dying."
"I was a merciful man, once," Borja hissed, closing the distance between them quickly and ripping the miniature crossbow from Romulus's hands. "But today has taught me, if nothing else, what the price of mercy towards your enemies is." He grabbed him by the shirt again, hauling him up against a tall crate and punching him solidly in the gut, right against his stab wound. "Ten years, twenty years... doesn't matter. Someday, it comes back. And it haunts you." He pulled a knife from his belt, and stabbed it into Romulus's chest, just below the collarbone. He screamed and squirmed, but there was no escaping.
"Hear the rain upon the leaves, above the sky lies grey.
A shred of blue would be denied. Alas, he could not stay."
The monsters had killed everyone who tried to fight them on the deck. His father had gone up there, sword in hand, vowing to protect his wife and child, or die in the effort. He did so, when a hulking monster slit his throat, and dumped his body into the raging sea. A forgotten man, with forgotten bravery to save a wife who loved him, and a son who would never remember him.
"She came to me, this redheaded witch," Borja said, slowly twisting the knife, "and she said, 'Adan Borja, would you like to be the father of a god?' And I said yes. I'm an old man, tired of my petty victories. Would that be my legacy? Why, when I could be the man who spawned the Blood of Andraste?" He ripped the knife free and hurled Romulus across the room again. He landed on his side near the wall.
"Birds reel across the endless sky, above a house upon the plain.
In memory she sings to him of a time before the rain.
Sweet Andraste, hear our song
For his road will be ours too.
Before darkness claims our souls
Let us see that shred of blue."
Borja rushed over in a fit of rage and kicked Romulus hard in the gut, bashing him against the wall, the boot coming away bloodier and bloodier. "I'm a man who knows how to control himself, play the role, and I did! Why couldn't you do the same?" He glowered down at the Herald, who coughed blood at his feet. "I could've been your father, if you were willing to play the part of son! Blood doesn't matter, you fool. Only the appearance, only the story."
The monster outside kicked the door down, and marched into the room. He was a hulking figure, menacing and clad in red, his blade dripping crimson with the blood of all those who had tried to defend themselves. All those unfortunate enough to be in his way.
"Hear the rain upon the leaves, above the sky lies grey.
A shred of blue would be denied. Alas, he could not stay."
Borja knelt down, grabbing Romulus by the jaw and forcing him to look up. "But I'm not your father, you fucking slave. I'm the bastard who slit his throat."
A loud bang sounded from somewhere just outside the storage room, along with the unmistakable sound of someone gasping for air they weren't going to get. A corpse fell halfway through the doorway, sightless eyes rolled back in his head, and Khari stumbled in after.
Truth be told, she didn't look much better, freely bleeding from what must have been half a dozen wounds at least, but she had the wherewithal to get out of the way the first time Borja made a grab for her, ducking under his hand and trying to bring her sword up and around to strike him.
Her swing was a bit too big for the space, though; she couldn't get any real momentum going. He caught her arm, wrenching it to the side; she lost grip on the weapon, which clattered to the ground. Borja kicked it well away from her reach. Slamming her back against the wall one-armed, he stabbed the knife right through her hand, pinning it to the wood behind her with a nauseous thud.
Khari's cry was swiftly cut off; Borja's free hand closed around her windpipe. She kicked and scrabbled frantically against the hold, but he was far stronger than she was, and the close quarters granted her no leverage.
"You're lucky to have friends like this," Borja commented sardonically, looking down at the struggling Romulus as he continued to hold Khari in place. "Or perhaps unlucky. Rosamara didn't have to watch anyone die in front of her." He released the choke hold on her and took the few steps needed to reach where Romulus lay.
With a wordless shout, Khari lunged for Borja, only to be stymied by the knife still pinning her hand to the wall. It was clearly driven in far enough to stop her cold. Her voice cracked hard a moment later; fresh blood welled from the wound in her palm. Khari bit down hard on her tongue and turned, trying to use her free hand to dislodge the knife with no success.
"Fuck." It was hard to tell exactly what she said between gritted teeth, but that was the gist of it. “Rom, get up, you've got to—" The rest was lost to the pain of another failed attempt to pull the knife free of the wall.
He crouched down again, glancing back at Khari to make sure she wasn't going anywhere, before he looked once more to Romulus. "Rosamara didn't have many friends. She was no descendant of the divine. She was a thief, a swindler, a whore, and one day she angered one man too many. She thought of Conrado as a friend, but he was a wise enough man to know what side to take, and he sold her out to me and mine." He sighed almost wistfully, as if thinking back on the memory brought him great pleasure. Then his fist came down hard once more on his wound, as though he simply couldn't stop himself. "We were going to live as kings for this. Anais swore to it..."
He stood, towering over Romulus, and rolled his head about, his neck popping several times. He exhaled slowly. "Even for me, there were lines I could not cross. After I'd killed everyone else, you remained. A little baby with a marked face. Now a grown man with a marked hand. How was I to know what you would become? How was I to know that leaving you behind would one day lead me to my end?" He clenched his jaw, as though imagining the moment, and how it might have been different if he'd simply tossed the baby in the sea instead of leaving him on the deck for the marines of Tevinter to find.
"But I promised you this would hurt. It didn't hurt much for your father. Overpowered him, disarmed him, slit his throat. But your mother..." He walked back to Khari, seized hold of her throat again, grabbed the knife, and ripped it free from the hull in a bloody spray. He held the knife up to Rom. "Your mother I gutted when she threw herself at me. It went something like this..."
He pulled back with the knife, but before he could stab it forward Romulus was on him. Some force had propelled him to his feet. Maybe it was the softening of the rain outside, the way the ship had stopped swaying so fiercely. The way the sounds of battle above had all but ceased. His entire body screamed in pain but he forced himself forward and reached out with his left arm, the unbroken one, with the green glow of his marked palm.
He grabbed hold of the back of Adan Borja's head and instantly the pirate lord roared in pain, releasing his hold on Khari and freeing her. Romulus staggered with Borja sideways as the glow on his hand intensified, and the captain fell to his knees, his entire body shuddering with some energy that flowed through him. He howled in pain, a green light emanating from his mouth, and then his nostrils, and then his eyes. Romulus gritted his teeth and tightened his grip as best he could, trying to avoid collapsing on the weakness of his wounded leg.
Borja's wail of pain echoed with an unearthly intensity, until his entire head imploded in a blast of green light from within his skull. Whatever the mark had opened there immediately closed again, sending bits of bone fragments and brain matter raining down around the now headless body, which collapsed forward and remained still. Romulus stared down at it for a moment before he too fell, tipping over backwards and hitting the deck hard, too tired to keep himself upright any longer.
A softer thud echoed the one he made; Khari had slid down the wall to the ground as well, cradling her wounded hand in her other. "Son of a mabari bitch." The words were breathy, accompanied by a soft groan; she listed somewhat to the side, bracing herself with an elbow to one of the storage crates. That one was still mostly intact.
The sound of her gulping in air was audible for a while. "Rom, are you—fuck, I don't know. You're... conscious, right? I should—I should get...someone. Stel or—or someone." She didn't stand, though; she might not have been able to.
"No..." he managed, letting his marked hand roll over, palm up, in her direction. "Just stay here. Please stay. They'll... find us." He took in a few breaths of his own. There was almost no way to process what had just occurred, other than to feel the pain in every part of his body. One thing he knew for certain though.
"The storm, Khari... it's over."