Bane wasn’t in the condition to teleport the elf and himself. It was a slim chance he could do it at all. It could honestly kill him. Bane grabbed Arcturus’ wrist, holding onto the elf tightly. This grip was weaker than usual. He tried his best to teleport. The shadows flicked around them, but that was also weaker. It flickered between teleportation and an unstable mess. He managed to teleport him to Bane’s hideout where he promptly coughed up blood from the poisoning.
Arcturus moved over to the pile of herbs he'd gathered earlier, digging through till he found what he needed, and crushing them into a poultice which he promptly placed over the wound. It was a bit difficult, knowing if he touched the Hound, his mist would hurt him and Bane would likely yowl and flinch, but he managed it.
It struck him that this was twice today that he'd had to rescue the Hound, and some part of him wondered who was doing favors for whom here.
Bane was in a world of pain. The poison spread throughout his body quick, weakening his form. He twitched when Arcturus applied the poultice to the wound, crying out in pain as it seeped into the opening. It stung, burned, and tingled as it tried to kill the poison that spread though his body. The herbs helped heal the nasty, infected wound, though. It healed up nicely. Bane whined as the elf healed him, his mind drifting in between conscious and unconsciousness. "It stings." He muttered quietly. He closed his eyes for a split second, falling asleep almost immediatly.
Arcturus watched the poultice do its job, watched the Hound whimpering, and made a couple decisions.
Next time, they were walking. Forget his shadow travel thing, it clearly did not work, or he didn't have enough control of it to get them where they needed to be.
And also next time, he was keeping Bane behind him. Where the puppy couldn't get hurt. Because this rinse and repeat cycle was already slowing them down.
He had to wonder how many fights the Hound got into regularly, and how many times he'd nearly died of similar things. And who was there to dig him out, since the Elf had only known him a short time.
An interesting thought experiment, but ultimately fruitless.
Bane blinked his eyes open. It had been a rough few days for him. He's grown weaker over the past few days and it irked him greatly. He needed to get his strength back up. It pained him. He felt at his neck where the wound was, but it seemed to have healed. At his age, he shouldn't be as clumsy as an 8-year-old. Sitting up, a grumpy looked soured his face. "That was a disaster." He hissed. "I hate that demons can do that. They shouldn't be able to mess with a hellhound's teleportation." Bane crossed his arms, shaking his head. "I need to start up my training again. This is not doing us any good."
Arcturus nodded slowly. "I'm sorry it's been difficult." Clearly the Hound was used to being able to operate at a higher level, which was a good sign.
"Question for you: What happens if I leave you alone? You seemed to be doing just fine without me…"
Not strictly true, but Arcturus didn't want Bane getting into problems on his account.
Bane sighed. “It has been awhile since I’ve been on my own. It’s like I have an entire army on my back. I’m not used to being the weak one.” He snarled. He fluffed up his hair with his hand. Standing up, Bane grabbed a knife and threw it at the door of his cabin. It went straight through. “No. Nothing will change if you leave me alone. You will no longer be able to save… your people or something. Whatever you mumble about. I’ll probably end up mulled. It’s not a good idea, elf.”
Arcturus nodded. "Just thought I'd ask. I don't want to be the thing that drags you down, but… how can I help?" So far, he'd defended Bane as much as he could, but the Hound kept ending up hurt, and despite the fact they barely knew each other, Arcturus wanted good things for the young hellhound.
Bane sighed. He sat back down on the ground, his back to the wall of the cabin. "You are not the thing that is dragging me down, rest assured." He stared at the elf, turning his head away almost in shame. He felt weak. He felt useless. Many emotions were going through his head. Bane played with the beaded neckless around his neck. "Maybe you could help with training. Something to help get my strength up, please. I feel pretty useless since a dead man is protecting me more than myself."
Arcturus plopped down next to him, or at least sat. There was no plopping when you didn't really have a body.
"I wouldn't know how to train you, other than to get you up and moving. But the only reason I'm doing any better than you is because I don't have a body, I'm kind of hard to hurt at the moment. Otherwise we'd likely be in the same boat."
He didn't want Bane to feel shame at the situation they were in, though he did find it odd that the Hound seemed… uninitiated.
"Have you never had any training from your own kind on how to use your powers to max effect?"
Bane's ear twitched. His eyes looked slightly red, but he drew his knees to his chest and placed his head on top of them. "Well, I need to get up and moving. I don't need any hellhound training, I already know how to use my abilities. It's a little hard to manage when you're a huge target and haven't trained in a few weeks to a month." He whistled and shrugged. "I have had formal training from them. Day and night. Beaten and bruised. I know how to use my abilities to the max. Some I haven't used in a while, but my teleportation mistake was…" He paused. "Not a mistake. Demons can interrupt my teleportation and bring me to them. I can also be controlled by demons."
Ah. Well.
"That's… not good." Arcturus had no clue what to say to that. The interplay of demons and Hellhounds was not a topic he was versed in, and understanding that Bane getting them places was a serious danger at all times, out of no fault of the hound's, was concerning.
"I can tell you've been trained in some ways, it just… we seem to have run into a lot of enemies that have been overtly difficult for you." Arcturus gave him a gentle look. "Are you in particular trouble at the moment?"
Bane lifted his head. He tried to speak, but couldn't. It was a subject he didn't want to speak about. He was in a lot of trouble and one hound could only take on so many. He drew in a heavy breath. "Look, many of the enemies are of my own. They are trained the same as I, all hellhounds are. But fighting more than one can prove difficult. They can match my skill, match my strength… It makes no difference." He turned his head to face the elf, his eyes rounded with stress and worry. "Particular trouble? Does it count if my dad has it out for my neck? Does it count if all of hell wants me dead?" He laughed nervously.
Arcturus nodded slowly. "Those things count, Bane. Why are they true?"
If his friend was in trouble, and it was in Arcturus's power to help, he'd try. There was only so much he could do, and especially if Bane wouldn't be open with him.
Bane bit the inside of his cheek, drawing his knees in as close as he could. "Why would that be true? Because I failed. I failed to be a good son. I failed to be the strongest hellhound. I failed to be a cold, hard killer and became soft. I ran away to escape my father's-" He swallowed, not speaking any further about his father. "And in turn, I betrayed everyone. I betrayed my father, and he is furious." The hound was shaking. He didn't like being so vulnerable toward another person. No one understood hell's harsh rules. No one believed him and thought of him as dramatic.
Arcturus listened, trying to understand.
"How did you betray them all?"
As best he could tell, being a good son and being a good person weren't the same for Bane, and he'd chosen to be a good person, which made him a pariah amongst his people.
Bane sighed. The meanings were jumbled in his head. He let his father’s words go to his head, and now, he couldn’t bring up a good answer. “Father said I did when I left hell for good. That’s the last I heard from him. I was trying to escape the pain. I never conformed to the standards… even by looks.” Bane looked defeated. He didn’t know what to do, nor could he go back. His face twisted into an unknown emotion.
"So… no actual betrayal, then." Arcturus said gently. "Leaving a place for your well-being isn't betraying anyone. I'll probably never convince you of that, but it's good for me to know what kind of a friend I've made. You're the type who chooses to be better. That's good!"
Bane put his head down on his knees. “I guess my well-being was in danger… but I shouldn’t have left… then I wouldn’t be hunted.” He played with his fingers and messed with his boots. “I don’t think being good could be worth this… I just didn’t want to kill innocents any more. He made me do it. I didn’t want to do it.” He got up and leaned against the wall. "I wanted to be a good person, but maybe that road is just not for me."
(Sorry friend!)
Arcturus shook his head. "What, are you going to go back and be a murderous minion for a little bit of ease? Just get rid of your conscience and never be bothered by taking innocent life again, because at least you're alright?" He quirked an eyebrow at the Hound.
"I don't really think that's an option for you. I think your conscience would always bother you, and you'd have to sear it, callous it, make it hard and unfeeling, in order to just 'go back'. And then what kind of monstrosity would you be?"
He leaned towards Bane. "No, I think the reason you haven't gone back already is not because you're afraid of what they would do to you for having left in the first place. No, I think it's because at a deep level, you'd rather be pursued but free of evil in your heart, than to be 'safe' and constantly feeling guilty, or to be so corroded by villainy that you no longer feel anything."
Bane crossed his arms, looking away from the elf. These words pained him. He didn't want to hear them, but maybe it was truly necessary for them to be uttered. "No." He muttered quietly. "I don't think I could ever remove the guilty conscience. It's part of my mind." He swallowed harshly, his throat stinging from the force. He started to cough and wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't want to be a monster. That is the opposite of my goal. I don't think I can go back…" Bane took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the elf. So far, he had seemed distant. "You're right. I will never be safe. They'll kill me, maim me, just whatever. I can't live life that! No one can!"
Arcturus nodded. "You'd never be safe there, from your own mind or from them. At least out here, you have the chance to fight back, the chance to elude and escape them, and you have the advantage of a mind unburdened by guilt."
The Elf looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze. "And any negative feelings about having left? Those are just conditioning. Old habits and thought processes. They can be cast aside and ignored, because you're not bad for running. You're not weak, you're not a loser, or a disgrace. You were strong enough to see the right path, see that it would cost you, and take it anyway, and you're strong enough now to stay on it, despite opposition."
Bane sighed, looking at the ground. He seemed to be close to tears. Low whimpers came from his throat as he realized his entire world had crumbled into ashes. The life he had known was treacherous, one of pain and forced labor. He held himself up but soon sank back onto his knees. Small tears glazed over his eyes. It would be hard to get used to a broken reality. His father forced him to be a monster. He didn't want to be a vicious monster. He wanted to be himself. "Please help me become better," Bane whispered as he tried to compose himself. "Father once said those who run away from their problems were weak. They were disgraceful. But he was my problem." He took a deep breath, slowing the warm tears. "I turned my back on the family to walk along the illuminated path. A better path for me. A path that could heal my scars."
Arcturus's first instinct was to reach out and touch Bane's shoulder, to support and strengthen him, but he knew full well his mist would hurt the Hound on contact. So he kept his hands to himself as he watched Bane grieve.
However, he kept talking, slowly, gently.
"Those who run from their problems don't all fit in one category. Some are cowards, but sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor, and knowing when to retreat is much smarter and more courageous than trying to be the biggest, baddest fighter on the field." Here, the ghostly Elf looked down at his incorporeal form. "Perhaps if I'd shown the kind of wisdom you have, I'd be healing somewhere instead of dead, but I didn't. I chose to stay and try to fight, and I wound up worse off for it." He leaned forward again. "You didn't make that mistake, Bane. You saw something insurmountable and did the smart thing: you removed yourself from the situation. Don't let the echoes of your father that live in your brain tell you you're weak for doing it." He gestured at himself.
"As for becoming a better being, a better person? You're already doing it. Helping lost souls rather than rending them and tearing them, like others of your kind seem to prefer to do. Seeking to be better is a sign of already being part of the way there. The rest is a matter of healing, which I think you know."
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