Kleo

Hero of the Veilguard

Kleo was one of the first characters I made with my newfound friend group. We all just started picking up Veilguard as it was released and wanted to have a shared canon between all of our rooks. Perhaps what makes him incredibly important to me is the fact that he is a character I made with Jules (@fleurontoxica). It has been years since the last time we did this, sharing sketchbooks and bouncing off ideas during our first year of junior highschool, so to be able to do this again after so long will never fail to make me emotional.

How far are you willing to go?
How far are you willing to run?
How long do you intend to chase
until your heart gives out?

Time is always running out
– can’t ever quite stop running out
But it can’t ever quite keep up.

The tap of my feet and the clang of these blades
it ticks like a clock more than I could explain

Come catch, come chase, come sway to the beat of my game.

Come one, come all, witness as I rise and fall.

With these wings I’ll breeze through the highest stakes.
With all my heart I’ll do whatever it takes.

Fly to the north, little crow,
this house is no longer home,
‘cause she’s gone and with her is your heart
and I fear you’ll never have it back

He’s in the nest, little bird
Waiting for you to return
Time will betray all of his wounds
and all you’ll blame is the self

I’ve always been quick with the knife
and slow to think of what comes next
Take responsibility for what you’ve done you were young
So was she
You didn’t know better
I held the blade
No one blames you
I do
And if she could, she’d blame me too
So why does she stand there like she’s finally found me for all I know, that role is mine to take
Is this a ghost, some sick magic trick?
Wipe that glint off your eyes
All my guilt’s never died
‘Cause i thought you did
I left you there for dead.
Don’t look at me like I’m someone you want to take back
At least act like you’re mad
betrayed, even sad
Just please, don’t look at me like that. Like I’m someone worth looking for
And let me mourn you before you go so I don’t have to do it when you do
I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore.

Never wanted to, and never again.
Never, again.

She’s dead.

You saw her, didn’t you? Saw her blood taint the skin of your fingers. Felt it settle under your nails, seeping inside the beds and into the rest of you.

Three nights is how much time you’ve spent alone by your own causation. Three nights of weeping and regret that will never bring her back. Clutching her close to your chest, more than eager to trade away your beating heart for one measly moment of apology. The knife you’ve used is kicked far from the both of you, though its distance is not enough to sever its tethers to your hand.

You felt the slip and slide of her gore under your soles when you finally fled. You do not know anymore where her blood begins and ends, where it is mixed with the stench of your aunt and where it is not.

You may have rid of a demon, but you are no savior

Kleo sat slumped in his chair

His head cradled in his hand as if the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear. His right eye, now partially blinded, left him disoriented even in stillness. Every movement felt unfamiliar, the world tilted ever so slightly out of reach.

Combat—his lifeblood—felt like a distant shore he could no longer swim to. Yet, he knew he had to return. Sooner rather than later.

Opportunity came in the form of Coop, ever persistent in their quiet, unwavering attempts to reach him. Words had been their first attempt, but now, they chose another language—one Kleo could not ignore.

Without a word, Coop walked up to the table where Kleo sat, placing his rapier down with deliberate care. Their eyes met, Coop’s steady and full of resolve, the look of a friend refusing to give up.

Kleo’s gaze dropped to the rapier, its familiar shape a reminder of the person he once was. He stared at it for a moment before letting out a low grunt, a sound that spoke of resignation and perhaps a sliver of gratitude.

Rising from his chair, he grabbed the hilt and moved toward the door. Coop followed without a word, the silence between them filled with an unspoken understanding as they headed to the open field where swords, not words, would bridge the gap.


Coop didn’t reach for his usual sword and shield this time. If he truly wanted to connect, to bridge the gap that seemed to grow wider with each passing day, he had to meet Kleo on equal footing. So, he grabbed the rapier, its weight foreign but strangely resolute in his hand.

“Not your usual arsenal,” Kleo remarked, his tone edged with skepticism as his left hand rested lightly on the hilt of his rapier. His stance betrayed a subtle imbalance, his right foot anchoring him against the disorientation caused by his impaired vision. “Are you holding back?”

Coop hesitated for a heartbeat, his voice faltering before he steadied himself.

“I… I wanted to feel the extension of what you are. The rapier you always chose—it’s part of you.”


Kleo’s sharp eyes studied him for a moment, the weight of Coop’s sincerity cutting through the space between them. Without a word, he drew his rapier, the blade catching the soft glow of the afternoon sun as it dipped toward the horizon. Dust swirled gently in the air, stirred by the movement, as Coop followed suit, unsheathing his own blade with deliberate care.
“En garde,”

In a blur of movement, Kleo closed the distance, his footwork precise and lightning-fast. His rapier came down in a vertical strike, clean and deliberate. Coop, unused to the finesse of the weapon, felt the jarring shock rattle up his arm. His grip faltered, and the blade slipped from his hand as he stumbled, landing on his back with a grunt.

“Pick it up.”

Kleo’s voice was cold, his tone sharp enough to cut. With a deft sweep of his weapon, he sent Coop’s rapier sliding across the ground, dust coating its polished hilt as well as Coop’s already dirtied clothes.

Coop pushed himself upright, his breath uneven. He reached for the rapier, but as soon as his fingers closed around the hilt, Kleo struck again, his blade a blur as it shot toward him. Coop barely managed to parry, the impact sending a sharp vibration down his arm. He stumbled back, Kleo’s unrelenting gaze fixed on him like a hawk.

Kleo began to circle him, his steps steady and calculated. Coop scrambled to find his footing, his every motion unpracticed and clumsy in contrast to Kleo’s predatory grace. Finally, Coop adjusted, his movements finding a rhythm that mirrored Kleo’s. The two began a tense dance, their footwork creating a slow, deliberate spiral, each step tightening the space between them. Their blades glinted in the waning sunlight, ready to clash again, a tango of tension poised to erupt with the next strike.

As the distance between them closed, Kleo’s rapier playfully tapped against Coop’s blade, each light touch sending Coop’s nerves into overdrive. Kleo’s grin, subtle but unmistakable, crept across his face as he read every move, every hesitation.
Coop, determined to surprise him, planted his left foot outward and lunged for a horizontal slash toward Kleo’s blind side.

“Witty and clever, ha,”

Kleo muttered, almost amused. But he had already anticipated it. His right arm folded in an unorthodox block, catching the strike with the flat of his rapier. It was an unusual move, but it was pure Kleo—unpredictable and efficient.
Before Coop could recover, Kleo dropped low, sweeping his leg in a calculated motion to unbalance him. Coop, quick on his feet, lifted his leg just in time to avoid the sweep. But Kleo, ever resourceful, scooped a handful of dust from the ground and flung it toward Coop’s face.
The cloud obscured his vision, making him falter. Taking advantage, Kleo’s free hand pressed against Coop’s chest, a gentle yet firm push that sent him stumbling backward.
As the dust settled, Kleo froze. Coop’s face, streaked with dirt and grime, bore an unexpected expression—a broad smile and a soft, infectious laugh.

“You’re back!”

Coop exclaimed, his joy palpable. He dropped his rapier, raising his arms in the air in gleeful surrender. The tension between them dissolved in that instant, Coop’s relief shining brighter than the fading sun. Kleo exhaled, his own smile breaking through as he covered his face with a hand, shaking his head slightly.

“You know,” he said, a playful edge in his tone, “this duel’s not over, right?”

With a flick of his rapier, its reflection caught the light, glinting ominously against Coop. The mood shifted as Coop retrieved his shield and sword, grounding himself with practiced resolve. His stance firm, he poised his sword for a thrust, the foundation of his personal style solid and unyielding.

“I know,” Coop replied, his voice lighter, an exasperated exhale accompanying his words. “I’m just glad I got to talk to you… Kleo.”

A satisfied smile softened his face. Kleo raised his rapier close to his face, closing his eyes as if centering himself. When they opened, his gaze was sharp, his expression serious but tinged with a sly, daring grin.

“Forgive my language.”