The stranger masked his expression well. There was something imperceptibly powerful about it, something determined, some kind of passion driving him to act, but no matter how hard the knight tried and how diligently he looked for any signs of a hint, he couldn’t discern the source of that passion. The stranger was… odd, but not in any uncomfortable way. Even now, when the knight’s heart was still beating too fast in – thankfully receding – panic, the presence beside him was reassuring.

Despite all that, he still couldn’t help wincing when the stranger spoke again. For as long as it lasted, Tenth only had half the presence of mind to take in the words, all while struggling to brace himself for another instance of someone else’s will taking precedence over his own. Fulfilling orders used to bring with it a sense of pride and accomplishment. He missed that. Cold terror had a firm, unyielding grip on his heart. When the stranger – not a stranger, he was Liraeth of the Conclave of Magi, Tenth gathered that much even in his confused and anxious state – finished speaking, it took the knight a moment to make certain that his body wasn’t going to move until it were out of his own volition.

He nodded shakily, unsure why Liraeth was so eager to further examine the desolate ruins, but deciding not to dwell on it. The man had come to the castle for one reason or another, he must have had something in mind – to find, to learn, or simply to see with his own eyes, it mattered not to Tenth.

“Stay safe, friend,” he returned, his voice strained but filled with sincerity all the same. He searched the ruins himself just a while ago, and was sure that the danger had long passed, but they were still hard to navigate, and dust and smoke were painful to breathe. He found he didn’t wish that upon Liraeth, who smiled at him kindly despite everything, and even lay a hand on his shoulder.

He couldn’t feel it through the armor. The thought sickened him. The first act of genuine, human comfort he received in as long as he could remember, and he couldn’t even feel the warmth of it on his own skin, instead left to imagine it to the best of his pitifully lacking ability. As soon as Liraeth was out of sight, he took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and removed the pauldron forcefully, tearing the pieces of leather that tied it to the breastplate and weaved around his upper arm.

Instead of warmth, he suddenly felt cold and exposed, a shiver running through him. It was strangely freeing, making him more aware of the world around him, like waking someone up with a pinch of the skin or a poke in the shoulder. He discarded the other pauldron with a little more patience, this time actually bothering to untie the knots, but found that he wanted to put it back on even less.

He took off his helmet next. His short brown hair was soaked with sweat and felt the cold especially sharply – it felt a lot like standing under a cold stream. Next were his couters, his vambraces, his chestplate – it fastened on the sides and in the front, and, thankfully, he could take it off by himself, without assistance. He couldn’t remember the last time he needed to do so.

He didn’t get as far as taking off his cuisses, as that would require him to stand up, and he didn’t yet feel steady enough for that. Above the waist, though, he was down to a short-sleeved linen shirt that exposed a roadmap of scars on his arms and chest.

With that done, he felt both unbearably tired and uncomfortably lost. Hesitantly, looking over his shoulder first to make sure nobody was looking or objecting to what he was about to do, he lay down on the steps. They were uncomfortable under his now exposed back, and he had to tilt his head slightly to avoid a sharp corner digging into his neck, but the relief he felt was immediate – and certainly worth the transgression.

He wondered if Liraeth would request him to put his armor back on upon his return, and if he could find something to replace the torn leather pieces, but before he could give it too much consideration, his eyes slowly closed, and pleasant emptiness filled his mind.