His Turn

"His Turn" is a BOTGD 2 oneshot written on [IRL DATE].
== Summary ==
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== Full Text ==
There was only one lamp lit in the back room when Milae appeared with a flash, re-entering the silent timeline with a stumble and falling to his knees, just managing to catch the table with his hooves before falling over completely. The lamp rattled and the flame flickered, and then was still again. He stayed there a moment, shoulders heaving. His body cried out with soreness and fatigue.
He finally looked up and numbly touched his face, which was a soggy, furry mess of blood and tears. Blood, there was so much blood, but he almost savored it. His eyes were wide and quivering, he had an insane urge to taste the scarlet dripping down his muzzle, to revel in what he’d done–
Alarmed, he got to his feet, hooves clacking on the stone below, and he tripped a little backwards and caught himself on one of his looms. The strings bent inwards as he fumbled with them, standing upright again, and he turned to see that the gore on his hands had stained the taut strings, turning them from soft indigo to deep crimson. His breath still came in heaves and gasps, and he pulled his arm inward, staring at the loom.
“You’ve really done it this time, haven’t you, little goat?”
Milae turned with a start. Urðr hovered in the center of the room, her black wings nearly filling up the entire space. He fixated her with the gaze of a trapped animal, his heart rate picking up again. “In all the time I have given you,” she said, her mouth unmoving, “you have never ruined a world this badly. The branches of this tim–”
“I saved him,” Milae interrupted, his voice cracking. “Don’t you give me a lecture now.” Her pure black, slanted eyes gazed at him steadily. “I saved him.”
“Did you?”
“The magistrate is dead. Vox and Dario are s–”
“How many other lives did you damn while saving theirs?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Her wings flapped once, briskly, in irritation; the wind caused the strings of the looms all around the room to shudder. Milae held his ground, still observing her with the same wide, crazed look. “I did not brand you for you to wreak havoc in the lives of others,” her voice echoed. “I have demons I may destine for that. You must learn that these other lives–” she gestured to the walls and walls of strings representing timelines “–are not playthings. They are not imitations or illusions of your reality. They are not the paper you write on, to be burned when inconvenient or incorrect. They are real. They are living. They must be tended to.”
“I don’t care,” Milae whispered, his composure slowly falling away as tears gathered in his eyes and began to spill again. 
His scars suddenly began to sear with blinding pain, and he crumpled to his knees, hugging his forearms to his belly, crying out as he was nearly blinded by their blue-green light. The scars on his chest were glowing from under his clothing. Urðr had a hand extended, her fingers trailing the same light. “You learned this lesson very early in our deal,” she thundered. “You will be reminded of it.”
Milae’s eyes were still pouring with tears, but unseeing as his vision was full of vivid, rapid scenes–Vox and Dario escaping Central, on the run, but captured and brutally slaughtered, starting a worldwide hunt of half-breeds and soaking the South with blood. Time restarted. Vox and Dario leaving Central and disappearing into the East, never seeing the Wilderwest again, and King Haddock imprisoned for good within the Grounded Dungeon, his kingdom falling to ruins. Reset. Vox and Dario, safe in Central, while Treepelt was imprisoned by the Warden and the King, and the rebellion unable to come up with a solution to her possession, and the Warden breaking free once more and causing misery and death among the Rebellion, without the catalyst of the girl and her lover, and soon, the surrounding kingdoms fell to her and her siblings, growing thirstier and hungrier for blood and power. Reset. A broken handcart, on a quiet, windswept mountain, with a half-breed goat kneeling beside it, and no one coming to greet him for days.
Reset.
With a gasp, he came to, on his hands and knees, his furred skin aching where the cold stone was leaching the battle-born heat from his body. Urðr lowered her arm. 
“You understand.”
Milae sat back on his haunches and crossed his arms over his knees, curling inwards and hiding his face in his arms. His shoulders began to shake again, as the truth began to settle in. His heart felt like it was bleeding. “I c-can’t save him,” he said in between quiet sobs. “Why can’t I save him…”
Urðr was silent.
The small half-breed rubbed his face across his sleeves, still crying like a child, wishing he could wipe out the memory of those awful, awful futures, and was seized with a new horror that he had just condemned the Dario of the timeline he had left to something terrible, something far away from what his perfect timeline was supposed to be. “I’ll–I’ll go back and–fix it,” he gulped, mopping at his face.
“You will not.” 
With another gesture, Urðr pointed a finger at one of his looms; a small section of strings suddenly glowed and began to smoke as they disintegrated. Milae watched with terror. “You should have known better. He is a key part in the events that have happened. Those lives will stand as you have left them, without your meddling hooves, so that you may remember what your priorities are.”
He took a shuddering breath, watching the strings of the timelines he was no longer allowed to visit fall loose as they slowly turned to ash. An acrid smell drifted from the loom and he rubbed a hoof across his nose, sniffling. He thought of the axe, rising and falling and cracking open Dario’s spine and gave an involuntary twitch, his ears flicking wildly. He tried to wash the visceral images away with memories of the times he had spent with the pair, the one night he spent stargazing with Dario and they had both fallen asleep in the grass under the night sky to the sound of crickets and hissing grass…
He closed his eyes, calm once more. “I’m sorry.”
“You are. That is why I allow you to try again, and again, and again.” She turned to face him. Her wings spread around the both of them again, but this time, it was more comforting. “I like you very much. You are intelligent. Most of the time…you can handle these emotions. I do not understand the sudden need for reckless change, Yun Milae.”
He stared blankly at the stone floor. “I don’t, either.”
She sighed. “What will you do now?”
Shrugging, he picked at his sleeve, now just as soaked as his face had been. “It’ll be time to go back to them soon.” His voice was congested. “Otherwise, I may forget they are there and leave them wondering why I vanished.”
“Impressive recovery.”
Milae shook his head. “I will be…taking my time…most assuredly.”
“As you do. I am watching you, Yun Milae.”
He dipped his head, and her form rippled and vanished, leaving him alone in his home once more.
Category:Events
Category:BOTGD 2
Category:Yun Milae
Category:Urðr
Category:Act I