MOTH TO A FLAME [Uriel/Alastair]

Uriel was... conflicted.

Whatever his feelings towards the red hair'd man, one thing was certain: He was concerned for his wellbeing. It was perhaps a selfish, hidden, care but one that existed none the less. The Administrator of the Todelstein took a deep breath as he waited outside the room of the other man, clearly trying to piece together what he might say to him. Perhaps it would be better to paint this in a formal light? An admonishing even to cover any latent feelings which remained.

No that wouldn't quite do, it would be far too obvious.

He mentally scolded himself, the giant crossing his arms as a look of absolute fustration came onto his face. With a displeased sound leaving his lips, the frenchmen would uncross his arms as he made his way towards the door to Alastair's room once more. A heavy knock would be given, before he opened the door to reveal none other than Uriel Sancroix.

Stepping through the door he took in the sorry sight of Alastair and any notion of admonishing disappeared. The softer side of the giant taking hold of his chest, as a familiar feeling seemed to surface. He did well to hide it as he approached the bed, his brow furrowed in the slightest discomfort. Try as he might, those features of Alastair still brought many things into question for Uriel.

"You do not look well."

"Suppose you have."

There was a certain truth to his words, particularly because Uriel has placed him in the hospital before. Good memories. Uriel would go to take a seat next to his bed wordlessly, the giant placing his hands on his knees. There was a silence which fell over him for a moment, as if the tension was growing on him. But in a heartbeat his expression would change as a laugh left his lips, a deep melodic burr which seemed like rolling thunder with his eyes closed. It slowly died down, as he went to place a hand on his bed, a small smile on his face. And like that, the vibrant personality and aura of Uriel seemed to shine through.

"I do hope the other guy is worst, you did do them in right?" He'd ask with a sorta jest to his voice, that only came from someone whom had been on his fair share of asswhoppings. While there was a time for formality, and respect, the companionship which comrades shared was far more important. He rather comfort Alastair in his own way, knowing that coddling such a man would serve to only infuriate him.

"Let me be honest, I'm sorry I've been... distant. I really should've been there. Things shouldn't have gone that way. But you have the pride and admiration of all, Alastair." Now that, perhaps, sounded more formal but hey it was true.

“The limelight of a soldier’s praise is temporary, but the example of conduct stands as an eternal monument to the ideals we all strive for. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized the standard we set will often be our legacy.”

It was as if Uriel knew that the praise Alastair received would grate upon the pragmatic soldier’s mind, but it was important that he impart some wisdom onto him. To know that ultimately the bitter-sweet relationship betwixts a hero and the general public was always built on rose color’d glasses. In another setting Uriel might even remark on the sweet lies that such sentiments inspire in the youth.

The radiance which was Uriel never dulled, nor sought to restrain it’s glory. But in that same vein, as he sat in the chair next to his friend, he was torn between two sides. To know that this man was very much like him, unable to stand aside when injustice existed. He did not wished his friend harmed, but to chastise him or speak caution would be the gravest of insults to Alastair’s honor.

“At any rate, how is the food? It’s ok, you don’t need to mention it, I know you miss my cooking.” He’d tease lightly as his lips pulled back into a wolfish grin, playful in nature and filled with nothing but earnest good intentions

It was a strange thing to see from Alastair, the subtle disdain he held for his own weakness. In some ways Uriel understood him, as he himself was fueled by the desire to challenge himself and to overcome those challenges. But the cloudy view in which Alastair viewed the world cause some displeasure within Uriel, his heavy weight shifting in the chair as he raised a hand to place on the bed.

“There is nothing ill about seeking such strength. It is a supreme virtue to seek to improve oneself where they might force their own destiny into submission.”

It was a soft spoken validation, but it would be followed by firm words. Hard won wisdom brought about through the crucible of life. Blue irises for a moment wander from this place in time and space to another, faraway life. He took a breath feeling the entirety of his body rise with it. Alastair knew not that even as he rose in power, there would always be something to force him back to this bed. That eventually one day, at one crossing, men such as them would no longer find themselves in hospital beds.

They would find themselves in graves.

“But it is hollow to envy such things, when the human condition is nothing but raging against the circumstances which we are forced into. The strongest of men are not those who topple cities and nations with ease, it is found in the common man’s struggle. And to not despair in that struggle but to blossom is a legacy far grander than anything else. ”

Perhaps it was merely the words of a man who found no greater satisfaction then setting the example of his fellows. A bitter-sweet thing to know that ultimately his legacy might in fact become something hotly contested. The distant gaze of Uriel Sancroix weighed heavy on Alastair speaking volumes in his silence. How could he possibly explain such things to this man who laid in this bed?

“You are a diamond in the rough, my dear friend.”

He offered an almost wolfish grin, one which seemed to take great pleasure in the final statement of the man.

“I suppose I shall have to provide you with a meal in the near future. Although, if it’s strength you truly seek, then perhaps it is time for another spar as well.”

“Naturally.”

The behemoth of a man would laugh, his shoulders rolling as he leaned forward. His hand removed it’s self from his bed, instead coming to rest against his own knee. For a moment he merely sat here, thinking. Thinking about the duty which was required of him, thinking of the burdens which he bore. A tightness constricted his throat. Despite being nearly the closest thing to the Sun which existed on Earth, an all consuming darkness remained within the inner depths of him.

He would not allow this darkness to see the light, not today.

“Find me when you’re well enough to walk again. I am sure others will be visiting you soon, and I wish not to intrude on them.”

It spoke with a smooth tenor, not a single ounce of hastiness in it. But it was abrupt. It was almost like making a u-turn at a speed which caused a car to drift, yet someone still somehow looked natural. It was the words of a man who was well guarded in his heart, and his intentions. If Alastair could see the man for who he was, what he was, perhaps he might understand.

The Administrator was a man of many well-guarded secrets.

Blue irises would fall over his broken form. However, very little could hide the genuineness in them.