It was Rhidian. If the overweight raccoon on his shoulder hadn’t made it clear, the way he approached Embric as pathetically as ever, begging for scraps of generosity, was. Unfortunately for Rhidian and Cypha, Embric’s generosity had died with—

For a long moment, he simply stood there, blue eyes staring at this spineless excuse for a human being as he tried to sort through the sheer disgust he felt at Rhidian’s continued existence. Moving from Dijila to Kushti just as he had, the man had haunted Embric for his entire life, and a parasite in Dresmondi form, he existed purely off the charity of others. If anyone ought to have died in the Coheed attacks, in the Eldouir takeover, in Elderkeep itself, it ought to have been Rhidian, and yet—

A spark of anger flared to life deep in Embric’s chest. Taking a deep breath, he unclenched his jaw and said in a tone that did not allow for any protests, “No, I do not. Leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, Embric thought that Rhidian had finally learned to make himself scarce where he wasn’t wanted, but true to form, the man persisted. Even without Aine watching from the sky, he could hear the pounding of the other Dresmondi’s feet and his panting as he jogged after Embric.

“I could poke his eyes out,” Aine offered helpfully, feeding off of the dark anger that had started pooling in his gut. She shared Embric’s disgust for the two leeches who had survived when men worth a million times their value had not. “He can’t follow you if he can’t see.”

As satisfying as that would be, I think it best if we leave his eyes intact.

A flicker of disappointment, but Embric had suddenly found that he couldn’t stand the thought of others doing things for him, not even his dyr. He hadn’t been the one to fight Tazmin, and it had gotten Ermir killed. He hadn’t been the one to negotiate to save his own life, and now Xan was— Well, he would be the one to stop this parasite from pestering him because he knew he could do that.

He needed to.

Mid stride, Embric stopped again and turned to face Rhidian when the other man addressed him. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand?” If the parasite hadn’t recognized Embric on his own, then he wasn’t about to remind him who he was. His voice was no more inviting than before as he repeated, “I do not have food for you. I do not have water or shelter or anything else for you.” Including patience. “Go away.”

In any other man, persistence might have been considered a valuable quality, but as welcome as a cough that refused to leave long after the infection had cleared, Rhidian lingered. Unimpressed, which was the norm rather than the exception when it came to this man, Embric silently watched him successfully guess the caravan they were both from, knowing full well that technically either of his two options were correct. The idiot in front of him, however, looked incredibly pleased with himself and seemed inclined to try to bond over their shared background.

And there were two Kushti who Embric would very much have liked to see instead of the one standing in front of him, but one of them was dead and the other one in the monster’s den.

“I remember you,” He said, no more inviting than he had been the previous times he’d spoken.

“And I’m right here.”

While the two men had been standing there, Aine had circled around and swooped low behind Rhidian. As she announced her presence, she flew straight for him, fast and low, and skimmed right over the fat raccoon on his shoulder before turning to land on Embric’s outstretched arm. Just as critical as her human, she peered at the pair of them with dark eyes.

“I see neither of you have changed at all.”

I’m not sure you made a big enough scene.

“Since they refuse to leave on their own, I had hoped a heart attack would finish them off,” Aine told Embric with no small amount of satisfaction, talons flexing lightly on his arm as she watched the other Dresmondi and his dyr recover from her entrance.

Ah. He cast a vaguely amused glance in her direction. A valiant effort. Alas…

Cypha and Rhidian were speaking again.

“Truly a pity.”

As one, the man and the gyrfalcon looked at the other two, entirely unmoved by their anger. Despite a childhood among the Dijila, Embric had spent as much time with the Kushti as Rhidian, and neither of the two men were particularly strong fighters. However, he and Aine had long since learned that a deerless child with enough tenacity could push the other Kushti around; Cypha was too lazy to use her element, and Rhidian was too pathetic to put up much of a fight.

Compared to the storm of Hiram’s unpredictable wrath, their measly ire was a faint breeze with the suggestion of a cloud.

“Aine was just saying hey,” Embric pointed out, tone starting out deceptively mild before hardening toward the end. “And now that we have all greeted each other: goodbye.” Turning away from Rhidian, he started to walk away once more.

What happened to treating everyone like family and being there for people, Rhidian asked, as if he had ever done anything other than take from those around him. The audacity had Embric pausing and turning back. “Elderkeep happened,” He said, gesturing to the city around them. “You might not remember me, Rhidian, but as I said, I remember you. And so does everyone else. People these days don’t have much to spare for someone who—”

“Has no redeeming qualities?”

“—has never returned the favor, especially when they can barely feed themselves.” Embric pointed at Cypha. “You have a plant dyr. For once in your life, grow your own food.”

Rhidian spoke of them being Kushti as if that were a tie that bound them together. Maybe one day it had - and maybe if he had been someone else, an Ermir or a Xanthe, it still would have - but for men like him, that bond had been cut long ago.

It could have been over. Rhidian and Cypha were finally leaving them alone, brushing past them like the entitled children they, on some level, were. It would have been over. But then:

Just as bad as the redheads, acting like that. Worse, actually.

Embric froze. Once upon a time, he would have considered himself a forgiving man, always willing give another Dresmondi the benefit of the doubt. An insult could just have easily been the result of a misunderstanding or perhaps misplaced frustration from a particularly bad day. In Elderkeep, a prison that offered nothing but bad days, the worst by far were the ones that attacked the heart.

Rhidian and Cypha were far too self-centered to have any of those.

To liken his refusal to allow them to take advantage of him to the active destruction wrought by the Eldouir who— Trembling, Embric took a deep breath even as his hands curled into fists. The Eldouir who demanded sacrifices year after year. Who branded their favorites like animals and expected gratitude in return. He thought of Ermir, alive one moment and gone the next, his corpse beaten into an unrecognizable pulp by the redhead who reveled in the sheer brutality of his own monstrosity. Of Xanthe, reduced to pleading at Hiram’s feet, to trading herself to a beast who had not a single shred of mercy in his entire body. Of the same monster wrapping himself around her as he guided her hand to kill, again and again and— The almost inevitable fate that had awaited her in the estate.

And, according to these two pathetic life forms, Embric was just as bad as Hiram Eldouir.

Worse, actually.

Without warning, he whirled around and sent a fist flying toward Rhidian’s face.