by T Ariyanna
Cy crossed his arms across his chest, a triumphant smile creeping on his face. “Still younger,” he smirked.
Arion met his smile with a grin of his own. “That just makes you look bad, having to take orders from a kid, doesn’t it? A powerful demon like you, taking orders from a runt of a teenager. Pretty sad if you ask me. but the sooner you talk, the sooner I let you go.”
Arion leaned back on his hands, and watched his comment seep into the demon. He began to shake with rage, curling his fingers to strike. “What exactly do you need me for?” he said through gritted teeth. The smoke was swirling viciously around Cy.
“I want to know about my mom. She’s been missing fourteen years, at least, but I know there’s more to it than what’s on the surface. That’s where you come in.”
The demon’s anger turned into irritation, and he threw his arms into the air. The smoke rose as well, falling to the ground like water around Cy.
“Great. Even better, I'm here to tell bedtime stories. Fine…whatever.” The creature's voice changed into mockery of a story-telling voice, but Arion ignored his bitterness. “Once upon a time, your Mom and Dad met while waiting for a train. It was a stormy Saturday, and your Mom had forgotten her umbrella. Your dad, being the gentleman he was, offered to share his. They rode together on the train until they had to say bittersweet goodbyes and never see each other again.” A train, made from shadows, flew past the creature. Two silhouettes appeared in its wake, one of a burly man, and the other a slim woman. The image shifted to a large tent, and clowns with hollow smiles around it.
“At least, until your Dad joined the traveling circus, and they just so happened to pass through your mom's town the very day she decided to run away. They fell in love when she nearly spiraled to her death from the tight rope. Your Dad caught her before she could go splat!” The slim smoke figure returned, cascading from the ceiling to the floor. The man returned just in time for her to fall into his arms, and then disappeared again.
Cyllorian clapped his hands together and the sound rung throughout the room, making Arion flinch. He glared at Cy's smirk, but the demon continued as though he didn't notice.
“Long story short, a year later, and you popped out. Your Mom was overwhelmed, and packed her things. She left your father with the annoying little worm that was you, and took off. She tried to escape, only to die in a car accident. The end. Can I go now?”
There was a long pause as the demon watched Arion with hungry eyes. Arion's mouth was gaping, and he struggled to find the words. The lullaby had grown louder during the story, and it only seemed to get more and more volume as time went on.
Arion stared at him for a moment before bursting. “What the hell was that? That's not how any of that happened!”
“How do you know? You're the one that asked me to tell you,” Cy sneered.
“Because there haven't been working cars for over a hundred years!” Arion snapped.
“Oh. Really? It's so hard to keep track of time, when you're in another dimension for so long. What century are we in again?” Cy asked sarcastically, looking around. “Which one of us is the all-knowing, all-powerful demon here? You? Didn't think so. I know so much more than you ever will.” Cy crossed his arms, his eyes darting wildly. He refused to look at Arion, and tapped his foot anxiously.
“Pretty sure you were just in the box, not another dimension,” Arion mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Cy looked at him with what seemed to be genuine confusion, and Arion pointed to the music box behind his feet.
Cy looked over his shoulder at it, his whole body going rigid. He turned on Arion, “What do you know about demons anyway, kid? For all you know, that could just be a portal for demons to come through!”
Arion raised his eyebrows. “I saw your eyes in the smoke. Only yours.”
“You think I'm the only one that likes this design? I could just as easily have your eyes. See?” Cy covered his face with his hands for a moment, and Arion cringed when he pulled them away. Cy still had the blanched skin and upturned nose, but the bright green eyes and small half smile was obviously Arion's.
Arion turned away, unable to look at the creature any longer. “Stop that, now!” He peeked back at Cy to find an all-too smug look on the creature's own face.
“Told you,” he hissed.
Arion shook his head and turned on the demon. “Can you help me, or not?”
Cy tapped a red talon on his chin, his lower lip jutting out. “Nope. Don't think so.” He looked at Arion with a malicious smile. “But you could help yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can't tell you anything about someone I know nothing about. But you can find her yourself.”
“I've already tried! How am I supposed to do that?” Arion moaned.
“You just don't know where to start, but I do. And I can tell you. All I need is one itty bitty thing from you.”
“And what exactly do you need?”
Cy had been creeping closer and closer to the edge of the circle while they talked. His toes were nearly in the fire, and the flames reached for him. “A name.” A loud bell rang in the lullaby, and Arion cringed. Their voices were nearly drowned out by the music, and he wondered if it would ever stop getting louder.
Arion shut his eyes tightly. He shook his head slowly, and Cy began to pry at him. “I can't do much from in here. And I can't find anything if I don't know what to look for. You got to help me help you, kid. It's the only way.”
“Theresa Luna,” Arion whispered, defeated. “I’m searching for the Mage, Theresa Luna.”
“That's not going to cut it. You see, Mages can change their names on a whim. She could be calling herself whatever she wants, but that doesn't mean that's who she is. I got to know what’s her birth name. My guess is you don't know either.”
Arion shook his head, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. Cy tapped his chin again. “But. If you tell me your name, I can follow the trail, and the connection between you. What do you say?”
Arion looked up at the creature. His hand was outstretched as close to Arion as it could get. Sparks flew from the fire and landed on his skin, and his smile twitched with each burst of pain, eyes gleaming.
Arion bit his lip, looking from the protection circles to the book at his side. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
“Arion Hunts! What the hell are you doing?” a loud voice boomed. Arion's terrified gaze shot to the doorway where his father was standing, the ax held loosely in his hand. Even the flames shrank away from Kole’s gaze.
He had only been gone a few days, nothing compared to the trips he had been taking the past year. He was shaking violently. The glaze that had overcome his eyes when Arion erased his memory was gone. The spell must have worn off. Arion's fear grew with the realization, wondering what all his father remembered.
Arion's eyes dashed to Cyllorian, who had been creeping along the edge of the circle, his talons curled. The smile on Cy's face made Arion's stomach flip. Sweat beaded his face as the creature laughed cruelly at him.
“Father, I'm sorry. I just wanted to know about Mom, and you wouldn't tell me. Please, don't…”
The man's hand came hard across Arion's face, throwing him from his circle until he hit the wall. The room went dark as the circle of fire puffed out. Tears stung in Arion's eyes as he looked back to the demon, no longer contained.
Just as Cyllorian was readying a pounce, the ax shattered the music box. The lullaby cut off abruptly, but the sounds still hung in the air eerily.
“DAD!” Arion screamed as the entire box exploded, taking everything with it. The wall behind him was destroyed and Arion was flung into the field, one story below.
He was caught in the blast, the fire charring most of his right side. The flash had blinded him, he hoped only temporarily. He patted his hands over himself, and found no missing pieces. The pain of his scorched flesh was immense, and he wondered if he was close to death.
Arion cried and
yelled, but he couldn't hear himself over the ringing in his ears. He screamed until his sight returned, but it was different. He couldn't tell why or how, but the whole world looked darker.
He looked down at himself to find only slivers of cloth left among the ashes that stained his body. He tore the crisped clothes away to find raw, puckered skin. The left side of his face had been cut to shreds by debris. He couldn't breathe, and forced himself to cough. Thick smoke and ashes spewed from his mouth mixed with blood and saliva.
He forced himself to his feet and limped into his home. Almost half of it was gone from the explosion. “Dad?” Arion yelled as he pulled himself up the stairs. He cringed with every movement, but he couldn't stop. “Dad!”
He reached the top of the house and stepped lightly around the fractured floor beneath him. The doorframe was intact. “Dad?” he whispered.
There was nothing left of the room, save for a few floorboards near the door that held a faint outline where the fire had branded them. Arion crept through the wreckage until he found a large black heap, half hanging down into the room below. The glowing blade of the ax lay near it. He knew it must be his father. What was left of him, anyway.
Arion reached out a hand to touch it, but the body crumbled to ashes at his touch. His father fell to the floor a story below and became dust, instantly blown away by the wind.
Arion fell to the floor and bawled, his wails shaking the weak floor beneath him. He slammed his fists down on the wood, sobbing so hard he thought he would be sick. He tried holding his breath to calm himself. When that didn't work, he dropped his hands to his side and gave in to the tears.
Something landed in his hands. Something thick, but smooth. He pulled it into his lap and rubbed the tears from his eyes. Showing no signs of the catastrophe that had just happened was Tome.
He clutched the soft leather in his hands, the coarse, uneven pages bringing comfort. Tears came again as he hugged the book to his chest. “I can't be alone…please,” he sobbed.
“You aren't alone anymore, kid,” a familiar voice sounded in his head.
Arion yelped, dropped his book, and scrambled backwards.
“Relax, it's just me. Don't tell me you forgot already,” Cy's voice rung again in his mind.
“Relax? You were about to attack me if the box hadn't have blown up! Why should I relax?”
“Oh, come on. I’m a demon, killing our masters is just what we do. Can we just skip to the part where you foolishly forgive me and move past the animosity? We both know it'll come to that eventually, so it'll just save everyone a lot of time.”
“Why should I? How do I know you won't turn on me?”
“Not in much of a position to from where I am now.”
“Where are you, anyway?” Arion whispered.
“In here,” he said, and Arion's hand pointed to his head without his permission. Arion clawed at his hand and slammed it to the floor.
“Don't do that!” he yelled.
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say, kid.”
“How…how'd you get in my head?” His fingers scanned his scalp, looking for any cracks.
“My essence was tethered to that ball. It was the only thing keeping me in this world. When it broke, I was reattached to the closest, and strongest, magical thing around…you. Trust me, I'm no more thrilled about this than you are, kid. I'm literally trapped in here.”
The demon shifted in Arion's head, an image of smoke forming in his mind. He watched it dart toward the edge of darkness that was his mind. A wall of green light shot up in its way, and it was thrown back. It rammed the wall again and again, the sound of him colliding with it reverberating. It was giving Arion a headache.
“Ow. Stop, stop!” Arion squeezed his head, and shook it violently. The smoke was sent tumbling around inside, and the headache dimmed.
“I'll stop when you do!” the demon shouted back. Arion froze, and the demon sighed.
“How was the box destroyed? I tried everything to break the damn thing open? Am I just that weak?”
“You were using magic, right? It was probably protected from magic, but whoever did it didn't think humans would want to bash it open, so they didn't bother. They just had to make sure Mage's couldn't get inside.”
“Why did they want to keep you in so badly, then? What did you do to get put in there?”
Cy ignored his question, and asked one of his own, “So what do you say we try and find your Mom?”
“What’s the point? She's dead, there’s no other way. I was stupid for thinking otherwise.” Sobs broke his voice, and he coughed up ashes.
“You sure? Because I can see your memories, and that urn you broke was definitely empty. Don't you at least want to try?”
“How do I even know I can trust you?”
“You don't got much of a choice anymore.”
“I guess. So, why do you suddenly want to help me so bad?”
“I don't exactly have any other offers at the moment, if you can't tell. I'm stuck up here. My only connection to reality was the ball that dear old dad broke. I've got nowhere else to go, now.”
“Does that make us some kind of team?”
“If it helps you sleep at night, then sure. Whatever. Let's just find your Mom and hope she's got the power to fix this. So what do you say, you in on the hunt?”
Arion nodded slowly. “I don't fully trust you, I can't. But like you said, I don't have much of a choice anymore, right?”
“Right. And since you don't know what to do, you got to listen and do everything I say. Deal?”
Arion nodded again, scooping up his book. He stroked the front cover of it, and thought about what it would be like when he finally met his mother. “Deal,” he said, finally cracking a small smile.
“Then let's get started. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, and the sooner we get started, the sooner I can get out of your personal hell.”
Chapter 7
“You aren't going to get anything done that way, you know,” Cy chirped inside his head.
Arion shook his head and grunted. Cy jerked around inside his head when he moved, and it pleased him, though it was awkward to have another person in his mind.
Arion shoved his sleeves above his elbows again, begging that the large shirt would stay in place. With his room destroyed, he had scrounged through his father's things to find the smallest clothes that he could. Even after tearing pieces off, they were still far too big. He had settled for a white button up shirt, and large black pants that he shortened.
He circled his arms around the wooden beam again, and heaved. He walked backwards slowly, pulling the remains back to the house. The bottoms of his pants fell beneath his foot, and he tripped. He fell to the ground, the large beam crushing his leg. He shoved at it desperately as he screamed in pain, lashing out with his magic. A green bolt of energy shot out from his palm, shattering the wood. Splinters flew out all around him, grazing his cheeks and slicing through his skin.
He pulled his hands to his chest, blood staining the white shirt. He clenched his fists against the desire, and held his breath to keep from crying.
“Just use your magic already. You're going to get yourself killed, kid.”
“No. Magic ruined everything.” Arion pushed himself onto his knees. Tearing off strips from his shirt, he bandaged his shaking hands.
“Magic is the only thing that's going to get you out of this mess.”
“Humans do this all the time. Why can't I?”
“Because you're just a runt, even for a kid.”
“I don't care. I'm not using magic.”
“You have to use it eventually. You can't just go back to being normal, kid.”
“Just watch me.”
“I'm being serious. If you don't use magic, all that energy is just going to build up in you until you explode.”
“I don't care.”
“Why do you have your heart set on this house anyway? Just go somewhere else.”
“It's not that simple.
I don't know anything else. I've tried to leave before, but I can't get away. The humans won't have me. I can't get back to the castle, and I have no means of getting another place to live. No money, no skills for a job. I'm not just going to stumble upon a vacant house and a lifetime supply of food, you know. We don't all have it as easy as you do.”
“Not like you can just stay here. I know you've thought about it, too. What if the village comes to check?”
“I'll just hide, make them think I died. They'll want to believe it, so they will.”
With that, the conversation was done. Arion worked into the night, gathering what stray pieces of the house he could find. The blast had destroyed the whole corner of the house, including Arion's bedroom. He looked at the pieces he had recovered, then at the gaping hole.
How am I ever going to fix this? he thought to himself.
“I already told you, you stubborn brat. With magic!” Cy yelled in his head.
Arion flinched, his hands flying in front of him.
“Are you always this skittish? Damn. . .”
“H…how did you hear me? I didn't say it.”
“I'm inside your head, idiot. That kind of means I get to know everything that's going on inside of it,” Cy snorted.
“Oh,” Arion whispered, trying to quiet his mind. He looked at the rubble around him again, and sighed. He trudged into the house through the hole where the front door used to be. He stared at his dragging feet as he walked mindlessly through the house.
He didn't realize where he was going until he was jerked to a halt. “What the hell, kid? You trying to kill us?” Cy's voice broke through to him. One foot was hanging in the air over the edge of the second floor walkway, where his room had been just yesterday. His arms were pressed to the walls on either side of him, nails digging into the wood until they bled. Cy had taken control of his body and stopped him. Arion wasn’t sure if he should be grateful, or disappointed.
He pulled his foot back from the air and relaxed his arms. He stared at the ground beneath him, wondering if he would have died if he had fallen, though based on the day before, he doubted it. He didn't think he could die even if he wanted to.