@bleeding_hearts
Rowan didn't understand fae magic in the slightest. He was someone that just knew that magic existed. He didn't understand that some were born with magic, didn't understand that some were limited to only a slight amount of magic. He had always taken magic. That's how his mother did it after all. But he didn't give a flying shit either way. He was more focused on trying to move forward and understand how and what he could do to stop this madness so that the key against his chest would stop burning and he could just call it good. He didn't want to die. That was the only reason that he wanted to close those gates. He was marked for death, and the moment Ezekt got free, he was beyond dead. That scared him more than anything else. He had lived for so long, endured for so long- just to die because of a stupid mistake he made? No, no… He wouldn't take it.
Rowan was half tempted to ask what use the captain had then, since clearly, that magic was not finding answers. What was his magic? Was it just the glowing ball of light in front of Rowan? How on earth had he become a captain then? Rowan was slightly befuddled, but he decided not to push it since he didn't want people asking about his own… oddities. The glowing eyes, which were beginning to dim because of the Fae's light, melted into pools of gold. He chewed on his bottom lip, little fangs peeping from the upper lip. Demon? Maybe. But he wasn't fully demonic. There was still that "humanity" his mother had talked about. Could a child of a succubus and a witch be considered demonic? Most likely, now that he was thinking about it.
But he shoved it from his mind for now, he had a task to focus on for now, and that was going to be his priority. He needed that to be his priority anyways. His ears twitched and perked at the name, and he let out a quiet little hum. "Caeso…" He tested the name on his tongue and let out a satisfied sound. It was pleasing, he found. Some names were like chalk grating against a blackboard, other names were soft like silk, and some were cheerful, like a bubbling creek. He found Caesos to be warm, like the warm sun on a summer's evening.
But he did not let those thoughts distract him from what was important at the moment. He needed to make sure that they were finding solutions. He needed to make sure they were looking for something that could help them move forward. He glanced up when Caeso spoke and he paused. "I understand that no one is trying to stop Ezekt. It's because everyone is too busy dying to see what's happening. Not to mention that those that do have the power to do something about it are sitting idly by and watching it happen like it's no issue. Do you really think that in the end, anyone is going to care about those who have died? They're scrambling like rats trying to survive." His eyes were narrowed, clear with anger. This may have been his fault, but it only solidified his own feelings toward humanity. Then the anger melted and he let out a tired sigh.
"Getting into the under is part of figuring out how to stop Ezekt. Think about it. How useless is your mission if you die at the first gate? I understand you're determined to save your people. But just going in with a half-assed plan of "how I get through all the layers is something to figure out later" is not something to figure out later. They're the seven layers of the Under. Each layer is worse than the next. You don't go in with a plan or at least an idea of what torments are waiting for you, and you're as good as dead. And then what use do you have to your beloved king?" Rowan picked up another book and began to read through it. "If you fail, humanity will blame you for its fall. If you succeed, you'll be considered a hero."
Rowan flipped through a few pages before he stood and stretched. "Any luck with the book?" He moved over to where Caeso was and leaned over his shoulder, carefully inspecting the book curiously. "Interesting poem. How does it help us?"
