Of all the people to emerge and admit to the crime, Trael was the last person he expected. Trael, the man Azar loved and adored for his laidback, casual demeanor. Trael, the man that was human in every sense of the word with simple ambitions and simple goals. Trael, the man that Azar could always lean on because he always kept the Pureblood grounded. He always encouraged the humanity in Azar when he was on the edge of faltering.
That Trael was the first of his partners to betray him.
Azar could only stare at Trael as he processed the news, feeling a lot of things all at once. There was no impulsive move, but the words sank through the surface, past his skull, into his psyche, through his veins. It spread throughout his body like poison, the truth he wanted to deny. The truth that Trael could make such a move without ever consulting Azar.
Had Trael done it himself? Did he torture and torment Trodai while he drew his last breath? Did he make a mockery of Trodai as he killed the man that gave so much to help Azar reclaim his name? Did Trael enjoy watching it unfold, knowing that his helped satiate his own bloodlust more than it ever helped Azar?
Before Azar could say anything, Vossari hugged him. The Pureblood stood stiff and it was akin to embracing a statue, not the warm and comforting man that always sank into Vossari’s chest, the man that fit like a perfect puzzle piece in Vossari’s arms. That man was nowhere to be found, Azar’s gaze fixed on Trael over the Wrean’s shoulder.
His mind had the cherished memories that Vossari conjured, and he could taste the salt in the air, hear the sounds of the waves. While he experienced this, however, the Wrean would learn there was more in Azar’s mind than there had been before. He would see a festering, black presence that pulsed with darkness and rage in a way that transcended the abilities of humans. Vossari would know there was a presence there - something that wasn’t Azar or Arcanos. He would see a brief flash of silver eyes and the face of a teenage boy. The boy began to slowly look towards Vossari, his hands in chains in a place so far away in the realm of the Force. Suspended in time.
Want to play….little fish? The boy asked with a slow smirk.
Before Vossari could make sense of it, he was back into the rest of Azar’s mind, feeling the pain of betrayal and anguish wash over him. Azar reclaimed his thoughts, keeping the dark influence at bay. In the physical realm, the Pureblood gingerly drew back from the hug, taking a moment to gaze at Vossari. He did not look as vicious as he had moments prior, but it was clear he was still furious. Azar grasped Vossari’s delicate chin, gazing into his eyes, “You forget, Vossari,” Azar said calmly, “Your princess is still a dragon,” He stated flatly before turning his attention on Trael.
The Nabooian was thrown into the wall behind him only a few feet away, pinned there as Azar surveyed him. The gesture wasn’t dramatic enough to draw the attention of anyone outside of those in the immediate vicinity.
“You deliberately went behind my back,” He stated as he glared at Trael, “You acted without speaking with me first. You acted without asking me why I protected him. You thought only about yourself and exacting your petty vengeance. And yet you have the gall to stand there and tell me it was to protect my assets? You think my empire is so feeble that the actions of Trodai alone could collapse it?” He took another step closer, keeping the Force hold on Trael in a full body bind as he glared at the man he loved. At the man he cherished so much. At the man that exploited the position that brought him, “No, Trael, you did this for no reason other than to satisfy your selfish bloodlust. You thought it worth turning on me to do it. You thought it was worth betraying me to do it.”
He paused before asking, “How did you do it, Trael? How did he die?”
@Javier esschoolbus @Fine Dining Set
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