Fucking finally.
There was one thing that mattered most to the magician he served, and once that task was complete, he would free him. He was certain he would. He’d never said so, but what else could he possibly want with him? So he’d do it, and he’d be free. He’d be able to see her as often as he wished. He’d be able to show up in one piece instead of gashed and bleeding -well the blood would always be present, seeping from around his armor as it slowly erupted out of him- but without the aches and bruises, without the exhaustion that made him pass out as soon as he dropped to the ground. He could have it, he could be free.
All he had to do was kill this bastard.
The metallic shimmer off his coat caught Dov’s attention instantly. Fucking finally. How hard was it to find a damn man made of iron? Apparently pretty tricky as he’d searched for months now without any gain at all. God, but that stupid glare of sunlight off a metal body was the best damn sight he’d seen in so long. His freedom was so close now. He wasn’t bothered in the least that he didn’t know the guy, didn’t even care what the hell he’d done to raise the wrath of the magician. He commanded, and Dov obeyed. Good enough for him.
He charged instantly, trees blurring around him as he raced to the metal bastard. Did he still want him alive though? Because killing him seemed the better option. More mess, but less difficulties. Less whining. Less trying to find some way to transport him to Ischia to serve his judgement at the magician’s hand.
Whatever.
First things, first.
He launched his armored body at him, shifting to ram him shoulder-to-shoulder with all the force of his weight and hidden strength. He never gave warnings, and typically he’d start with ripping into flesh, but seeing as he was made of metal, he’d rather like to keep his teeth intact. But as his plates of solid bone crushed against him, he was met not with a clink of iron against the surface, but a familiar softness of any other body he’d thrown himself into, torn apart.
With a frustrated snarl he threw himself away, out of direct reach as he stared him down with hard, black eyes. Who the fuck are you, where’s your iron? Goddamn it, this better be the bastard so he can kill him and move on. Killing an innocent was all well and fine, really, but only if he knew to keep looking for the iron man afterwards. You fucked that girl up real bad, you know that? Not that he cared one bit, she probably deserved it with that attitude of hers. And really, he was just trying to verify this was the right bastard. Goddamn it, be that stupid bastard. Let him earn his damn freedom.
I'll take my bow, I won't make a sound
I whisper truce as the ashes hit the ground
