"He seemed more a man thrust in to something he was unprepared for and unwanting of because prophecy or destiny demanded it be so." Malik shrugged, "Not everyone wants to be king, some of us are content with our place. Everyone takes something different away from a story."

He swallowed, sighing and bringing the iron grip on 'fine' back from where it had slipped. Malik's not bothered by the coldness of Mortimer's touch. It's a little oddly reassuring really, a reminder that the other man isn't really as human as he looks. Not that Malik feels terribly human all the time either.

"I suppose I should ask, what do we call you? Both you as an individual and you as a... group."