by T Ariyanna
He rubbed his left arm, where it was bruised from his last fall. It still felt broken, but he felt no pain from it. His magic buzzed within his arm unwarranted, healing him, and he cursed at it. He stifled the magic in his chest, sucking in his breath at the wave of pain.
He fell to the ground, leaning one side against the wall. It was still warm, even hours after the incident. Silent tears slid down his cheeks. “Why do you even care?” Arion's voice cracked as he talked, and he wiped up the tears with the heel of his hand.
“I'm stuck in this body, too. You think if I knew how to get out, or knew where I could go, I'd still be here? No? Didn't think so.”
Arion didn't respond, only nodded his head slowly. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself, but it was only the breaking point. He dissolved into endless tears and broken sobs. He shook violently as he held himself, desperately trying to squeeze all of his pieces back together.
Cy protested loudly at first, with threats and then with pleas, but to no avail. When he gave up, Arion cried harder from loneliness. Though he knew Cy heard all of his thoughts, Arion wouldn't say aloud how glad he was that he had him, that he wasn't alone.
“Are you ever going to leave this spot?” Cy whined. Arion lifted his head to see his arms resting on his knees. He shook his head lightly, and buried his face again. “It's been days now. If you don't eat something, you'll die. If that's what you want, I can think of a few ways that will be a lot less painful.”
Arion shook his head again, and burrowed deeper into the folds of his clothes. “Hey! It's not just you in here, remember? I feel what you feel, and we're dying!” Cy screamed at him.
“I don't care!” Arion yelled back, tears stinging in his eyes again. “I just don't! What does it matter if I die? No one's ever cared about me. Not my Dad, not the villagers, no one! I won't be missed. And neither will you! You don't even know how long you were locked up. Don't you think if someone cared they would've found you before I did? So just leave me alone, okay?”
Arion pushed himself from the wall and paced in the small hallway. Cyllorian was quiet.
Arion's legs fell weak after a moment and he collapsed into a wall. Crying out, he punched the wood. He lashed out until the soiled bandages were torn and his skin was cut open again. Biting back the pain, he put all of his anger into one last punch.
Overloaded with anger, he let his magic slip and he punched straight through the wall. The edges of the new hole glowed with bright green embers and sparks.
Staring at the hole and, breathing heavily, he whispered, “My own mother didn't even want me.” He rested his hand on the edges of the hole, the sparks licking at his skin.
After a moment, Cy spoke up. “What about her?”
Arion's mind was flooded with thoughts of Kaitlyn. He cringed away, not wanting to imagine how she would look if she saw him now. “She cares about you.”
“Then where is she now?” Arion asked, feeling defeated.
“Do I have to tell you what you already know? What you did? You told her not to come around anymore because of Kraven. And she doesn't want you to get in any more fights because of her, so she listened,” Cy scolded.
Arion slumped against the wall, holding his head in his hands. His chest had started to burn, and he was trembling. Shaking his head slowly, he took deep breaths. He forced his mind clear and knotted his fingers in the fabric over his stomach. His left hand began to sting, and he clenched his fist in his hair, nearly pulling it out.
“Look at your hand,” Cy said after a few minutes.
“Why?” Arion spat.
“Just do it.”
Arion grumbled under his breath as he untangled his fingers from his hair. He rubbed his eyes with his other hand as he pulled his left into view. His jaw dropped, and a cold chill went down his spine. He had forced the burning feeling away, but the scar was still glowing brightly. Lightning was crawling over his hand from the edges. Most of the scar looked raw, blood dripping down his wrist.
“That's what happens when you fight it. It's who you are, regardless of what you want. It's either accept it, or let it break you. You pick.”
Arion stared at his hand a moment longer, watching the blood glide along his skin. Looking away, he closed his hand. Gritting his teeth, he released the magic in a healing spell. When the pain subsided, he tore the bandages from his other hand and closed up the cuts. He pulled his shirt off over his head and wiped his skin clean of the blood, then burned it in green flames in his hands.
“Good choice,” Cy said as Arion tossed the ashes away. He could hear the smirk in Cy's voice, but ignored him.
Arion stared at his hand in confusion, at the charred skin that covered it.
“What?”
“The scars should be gone. I never had scars left after healing before.”
“Those weren’t normal wounds. This was done by magic.”
“Then magic should be able to fix it!” he burst. His gaze trailed along the length of his arm, taking in the puckered skin all over it.
“Maybe a specialist could, but you're just an amateur. Besides, that was a strong explosion of a lot of pent up magic. I doubt there's any way to fix it. Just get over it. What does it matter what you look like anyway?”
Arion groaned and smacked his forehead. He ran his hand down his face, and cringed at the rough scars running over the smooth half of his face. He couldn't feel his left half, and was momentarily glad.
He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen.
He tore through the cupboards, eating anything in sight. It was the first time in a long while that he had eaten his full, and it made him feel sick.
Holding himself together, he marched into the remnants of the living room. Most of it had been untouched, but the fireplace and his mother's urn had been taken in the explosion.
His father's chair remained, and he crawled into it. He laid across the arms of the chair, and covered his face. He searched his mind, looking for a place that was still private, a place for him to think without interruption. Just as he thought he found one just outside the wall, Cy spoke up.
“You know, I care about you, too.”
Without moving his hands, he scoffed. “You care about having a body. Is that supposed to be the same thing?”
“Why not? This body's yours, ain't it? So it ought to count for something.”
“Pathetic,” Arion muttered. He sat a moment in silence, and it felt as though Cy was shifting inside of him. “You know I can hear in your head, too. Maybe not everything like you can, but I can see some things.”
“What kind of things?” he asked slowly.
A smug smile spread across his face. “If you can see in my head, shouldn't you be able to see what I know from your head? That sounds like a riddle.” Arion chuckled at the absurd statement.
Cy was silent in his head, and there was no movement from him. Feeling like he had finally won against someone, Arion set to making a plan in the safe parts of his own mind.
“You know you can make it however you want, right? It doesn't have to be exactly the same,” Cy protested.
Arion stood admiring his work, a triumphant smile filling his face. The house was in one piece again, and he could almost tell himself it had never happened. There was just one thing that wasn't quite right.
“You don't want a bigger room? Floors that don't give you splinters? Heck, you don't even at least want to take out your father's room?”
“I like it how it was. I don't see what your problem is. You're living in my body, not the house.”
“My problem is that you could do anything, and you want your stupid old life back. Just in case you're having issues with your memory, let me you remind you that it sucked!”
“I remember, Cy. I just don't know what else to do. This house is all I know.”
“Can we at least turn the other room into a practice room?”
“That sounds good. Let's go.”
His father'
s room was almost as bare as his own, only a bed and a dresser filled with clothes. He rummaged through the clothes, picked out what he liked, and shrunk them magically to fit him. He changed into a pair of black pants with numerous pockets, and a white undershirt with a dark green vest. He put on a pair of leather work gloves, with the fingers removed.
At the back of his father's closet was a long trench coat in a fashion he had never seen before. It was double breasted, with shining metal gears in place of buttons. The sleeves were held together by buttons from the wrist to the elbow. Chains were sewn to the fabric over the shoulders and through the high collar. The pockets were kept shut with zippers. A lightning bolt embroidered the left breast pocket.
Without shrinking it, Arion wrapped it around his shoulders. It reached well past the floor, and weighed him down. It spilled out around him, but it felt right nonetheless.
“Are you done playing dress up yet, kid?” Cy snorted.
“Yeah, yeah. So what do we do? How do we make it into a training room?”
“I thought you'd never ask. First, it has to withstand a lot of abuse. I suggest making the walls and floor metal. Something sturdy. Just use your imagination.”
“You want me to just turn wood into metal? I don't know how to do that!”
“Well then, better figure it out.” With that, Cy went silent.
“Hey!” Arion yelled at nothing. He crossed his arms and pouted. He looked at the walls, trying to form any idea, when something rammed into his ankle. He looked down to find Tome jumping into the air nearly to his hip.
He scooped the book up and caressed its spine. “Hey there, buddy. Sorry I've been so out of it. Can you help me?”
“Oh, sure, give the book an apology!” Cy shouted in his head, before abruptly returning to his silence.
Arion stifled a laugh as he flipped through Tome's pages. “Wood to metal. Wood to metal,” he whispered to himself as he skimmed. Enthusiastically, Tome turned its pages to the perfect spell.
Arion set Tome onto the floor and crouched onto his knees. He pressed his palms to the floor on either side of the book, and read the passage slowly. He gathered the magic into his hands, and concentrated on the room around him. Once he had the image in his head, he pushed the magic into the wood.
Electricity sprung from his hands and raced through the wood, cracking it. From the cracks spread liquid metal, coating and turning the walls and floor. He watched the magic work with pride, knowing that Cy was watching his success.
“Wow. That works,” he breathed, and Arion chuckled.
“Next?”
“Right. We don't need all this stuff in here, so get rid of. I don't much care how, just do it.”
“You sure you don't care?” Arion asked smugly. He snapped his fingers, and the remaining furniture and clothing of his father's caught ablaze. Green and blue flames lit the room. It licked at the metal, and the magic in the fire stained the new walls and floor green.
“You don't have to show off. If I had my own body, I could do so much better,” Cy pouted.
“Whatever you say. So what now?”
“There's not much left until we can get you equipment. Not that you're ready for any yet. You still want to go this road? You up for finding your mom?”
“I have to.”
“Good. 'Cause we got a long way to go before you're ready. Now let's get started.”
“Do you really have to be so bossy?” Arion asked with another flick of the wrist.
“Only when you're doing it wrong.”
“I don't see you doing any better.” Arion grumbled at the demon in his head. They were standing in front of the house. He had a lot of pent up energy, and Cy had suggested using it to change the house. They couldn't agree on any ideas, so it was slow going.
Arion gripped the window frame at the front of the house and pulled. The wood around it creaked, sparks shooting out of his hands. After a moment, it gave, and the window grew. He pulled it to the ground, making it taller than himself, and nodded in approval.
“Why, exactly, do we need huge windows? Shouldn't we make them smaller, so anyone passing by can't see?”
“I think they look cool. Besides, I can always tint them so people can't see inside. That good enough for you?”
Cy answered with a grunt, and watched in silence. Arion placed his hand against the glass, and it cooled his skin. Black smoke filled the window, slithering to every corner, until it was all that could be seen. Cy snorted in response, which Arion took as a compliment. He smiled, admiring his work. His eyes wandered from the darkness, and his reflection came into focus. He stumbled back out of shock, his eyes going wide.
The fire that had caught him during the explosion had charred half of his body. Half of him was normal, as it had been before, but the other half was grotesque. His puckered skin was eerily pale, and looked almost translucent. His nose and ear were withered, curling on his face, while the left corner of his mouth was stretched into a snarl. His hair was frayed and half gone, sticking out in random places. He reached a shaking hand to his neck, his nails black. He had thought his hand had only been bruised before, but there was no sign of fading.
Glancing back up at his reflection, something under his collar caught his eye. Pulling the clothes away gingerly, there was a patch of rough skin that was entirely black. Staring down his shirt, he discovered that it covered his stomach and disappeared into the waist of his pants. He clawed at the skin, thinking it was simply still burnt. He sliced through easily, and blood ran down his chest. He healed himself quickly. He had been so burnt that his skin was now naturally black.
“What the hell happened to me?” He stared at his reflection, wishing it would go away.
“Interesting,” Cy breathed, gazing right along with him. Where Arion watched in terror, Cy was merely curious.
“What's interesting? That I'm even more of a freak now than I was?”
“Not that, it's just…”
“Just what?”
“All magical creatures burn in different ways, that's all.” Cy turned away, hiding himself in his mind. There was more to his statement, and his abrupt silence, but Arion knew he wouldn't get it out of him.
“What am I going to do? This is so much worse than I thought. I can't let anybody see me like this. I look like a monster!”
“Stop being so melodramatic. You look fine.”
“Gee, thanks, that makes me feel so much better. Except it doesn't, because you're a demon! You don't want to look normal. What am I going to do?”
Arion paced frantically, watching his reflection out of the corner of his eye. He watched as the boy was replaced with the monster and back again with each turn. “Leave me alone!” he screamed, and flung a fireball at the window.
Rather than breaking, the glass was eaten up by the flames. They were contained by the wood edges, and as the glass was melted, the smoke that had been filling it spilled onto the ground.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Arion stood there huffing for a long moment, watching the trails of smoke dissipate. When the chaos was over, he slumped to the ground. “You win. No more windows.”
Cy chuckled, and Arion couldn't help but laugh with him. “Any other ideas you want to concede on now, before you embarrass yourself again.”
“I can't embarrass myself if you're the only one who sees.”
“Whatever you say, kid.” Cy shifted uncomfortably, and Arion tilted his head to make him stop. He growled at him, but was cut off. “Hey, kid. What was it you said you would do if anyone came snooping around?”
“We talked about this. I'll just hide.”
“Right, right. Well, you might wanna get on that, 'cause someone's coming.”
“Shit! Why didn't you say something sooner?” Arion jumped up from the ground, his head whirling from side to side.
“I can only do so much. This isn't exactly a lookout tower; in case you haven't noticed. Now hide already!”
Arion dove ar
ound the corner at the sound of footsteps on the stone path. He pressed himself to the wall, hoping whoever it was would just check inside the house, and not outside.
The footsteps paused as they approached the house, and the person gasped for air. They took a few more steps forward slowly, and took a deep breath.
“ARION!” Kaitlyn screamed, her voice wavering. A hiccup caught in her throat, and she yelled again.
Arion cowered into the wall, though he wanted nothing more than to burst out and see her.
“What are you waiting for, kid? You've been wishing she would come out for days, and now that she's here, you got cold feet? Buck up!”
Arion nodded and readied himself to step out of hiding. But then he saw his reflection in a nearby window, darkened by the shade.
“No. I can't let her see me like this. It's better if she thinks I'm dead, too,” he whispered, backing away.
“Oh, great. We got ourselves a martyr. Just get out there!” Cy pushed against the wall in Arion's mind, and he felt the demon take control. His legs jumped against his will, and he was standing clear in the open before he could fight back.
Arion opened his mouth to scold the demon, but Kaitlyn was on him in an instant, stopping his words. She wrapped her arms around him, her face buried in his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt. He awkwardly rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, until she got a hold of herself.
“There, was that really so hard?”
Bite me, Arion shot back in his head
“So the not-so-great Mage can speak to me with his thoughts. Here, I thought you were content with talking to nothing like a crazy person.”
It's just easier to talk, okay. Again, bite me.
Cy erupted into laughter, but Arion ignored him. “Kait, what are you doing here? It's not safe.”
She pulled away from him, and wiped her eyes. “We all heard the explosion, and the mayor, my dad, put everyone under house arrest. I came to check on you as soon as I could get out of his sight. I was so worried about you. I thought. . .”
“I'm okay. It was just a spell gone wrong, that's all. I'm fine, see?” He spread his arms out for her to examine him. Without looking away from his eyes, she touched his scarred cheek.