#azemhermes

The unruly beast in question was a newly submitted creation: a three-headed beast, with a lion’s head and body, a goat protruding from its back, and a tail which ended in a snake’s hissing mouth. Despite having wings, it didn’t seem to have the ability for flight. 

Incomplete, was Hermes’s first thought. He detested the sight of it. What madness had gone through the researcher’s mind to have devised such a distasteful concept? It was but an amalgamation of three, if not four, creatures. How did the anatomy even work? Did he not care that the manner with which he had fused the poor creatures may have left them in agonizing pain? Creations did not speak, but their eyes spoke clearly. When Hermes looked at it, he could not bear to see its misery. 

Perhaps that was why, the moment they released it into the wild, it wreaked havoc so massive that not even their binding magick could contain it. 

“We cannot subdue it.” One of his staff, who had suffered an injury to his shoulder, panted. A physicker was seeing to his wounds. He hissed when the curative magick worked its way through torn muscles and blood vessels. Hermes glanced at him, then at another colleague who was already taken away on a stretcher, groaning from a deep cut on her flank. 

His staff grunted in pain, then sighed. “Hermes,” he went on, half breathlessly. “We must undo it. That beast will not serve a purpose for Eitherys.” 

Purpose…

Truth be told, the question had crossed his mind upon his initial evaluation of the creation: what purpose had the researcher thought of when he designed this concept? A guardian of sorts, perhaps? Or had he simply wished this amalgam—this…khimaira—would offer balance in the ecosystem? Despite Hermes’s misgivings regarding the creature’s design and purpose, the creature yet lived, and for Hermes, that was enough reason for him to give it a chance. So to bring it to Lethe the moment they set it free just because they could not control it left a disgruntling taste in his mouth. 

Hermes refused. With the collective effort of Elpis’s best mages, they managed to capture the khimaira and brought it to a cage inside Ktisis Hyperboreia, where Hermes toiled in search of a way to tame it. Yet try as he might, the beast thrashed and howled and breathed fire from one of its heads. Once, it attempted flight only to come crashing down before it could reach half the height of its glass cage. 

One afternoon, the chief overseer came to his work station by the khimaira cage. “I see you’re still working on it, Hermes.”

“Chief overseer!” Hermes hastily rose from his seat, silver mask askew and hair disheveled. He had been reading reports and methods on how to tame the creature and, at some point, fallen asleep on his desk. He corrected his mask but left his hair alone. “How can I help you, sir?” 

“I would like to introduce you to someone.” 

Hermes looked on in curiosity as the chief held out his hand to the woman behind him. 

“Good day.” She dipped her auburn head. “My name is Leirion. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

The first thing he noted about her was her sharp eyes. They shone blue, like the farthest reaches of the sky on a clear cloudless day. Then he noticed her face, which was soft yet dignified. She looked to be a woman of strong principles, who would not bend down for the sake of appearances. But the softness of her edges made her seem approachable, and Hermes couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps she was more easy-going by nature. Finally, his gaze fell on her lips, curved into the most enchanting of smiles.

For a moment, time went still, broken only when the chief overseer cleared his throat. 

“Ah, apologies.” Hermes stammered, words stumbling one over the other, as he reached for her held out hand and grasped it in a firm shake. “Hermes. Pleased to meet you.” 

Apparently, the chief overseer had asked her to see the thrashing khimaira. An accomplished beastmaster like her might have an unconventional trick or two up her sleeve, he said. 

“Would you mind taking her to see the creature?” the chief overseer asked. 

Hermes didn’t—or, not really, though truth be told, he had wanted to find the solution himself. But perhaps it was time he realized he needed help. He had thought of seeking help, but the majority of the facility researchers would rather see the creature be undone. One less worry for them, wouldn’t it? So, swallowing his own sense of failure, Hermes led Leirion and the chief overseer to one level above to where the khimaira was resting inside its cage. 

“Ah, I see you’re finding it in its rare peaceful moments.” Hermes remarked the moment they reached its cage. 

The creature dozed on the sandy ground. Water constantly flowed into its basin while food was given regularly in the form of hefty meat twice a day. No shrubberies dotted the cage—less fuel for the fire it would breathe. 

Hermes stared at the sleeping creature. The people never quite understood. Even a violent being such as the khimaira had moments where it was a docile creature striving to live. It was not a mindless monster whose only purpose was to create chaos and destruction. It was alive, so who were they that they could arbitrarily deem it unsuitable for life? 

Leirion stepped forward and held a hand to the cage. Hermes watched her profile—watched her lips move in a language he didn’t know. Funny; he’d always thought he was well-read. Never had he known that there was a language he was not at all familiar with. 

Leirion finished her chant. They waited, but nothing seemed to change. Then one by one, Hermes noticed the khimaira opening its eyes—all six of them, from the lion, the goat, to the snake. It looked at them lazily. 

Hermes meant to reach out to Leirion, to brace themselves should the khimaira charge, but the woman only raised her other hand. She never broke eye contact with the creature. Hermes noted the moment the khimaira took notice of her, when its hackles began to rise and a deep growl rumbled from within its throat. 

His heart clenched, more for the khimaira than Leirion herself. They were safe; the glass cages were unbreakable. He'd heard how beastmasters could command any beasts with a single word. If this woman did anything to hurt the poor creature— 

Fast like a bolt of lightning, the khimaira charged. The glass panes trembled under the force of its weight. Hermes fell a step back in surprise. Standing on its haunches, the khimaira had its claws dug into the other side of the glass, its fangs bared in a vicious snarl. But Leirion stood her ground, undaunted in the least. 

She murmured under breath and Hermes saw the khimaira jerk. Its body snapped back, its heads screamed the most unnatural, guttural of screams. 

Stop… 

Leirion's chant continued and the khimaira thrashed in its cage. It swirled on the ground in confusion before bashing its body against the glass again and again. It screamed without stop. Then it whipped its head up. No exit lay there but still it took flight once more only to fall on a heap when its wings failed to carry its body. 

The khimaira shrieked in pain and Hermes jerked Leirion away from the glass. 

“Stop!” He screamed, yelled, pleaded. “Please…” 

The chanting halted. Inside the cage, the khimaira whimpered. 

Leirion looked at him wide-eyed, and he realized he still had his arm on her shoulder. He let it go, then shuffled back. He stood between her and the cage. 

“I'm sorry,” he quietly added, eyes averted, “but you're hurting it.” 

Silence ticked, broken only by the khimaira's painful wheezes and groans. Hermes expected her to storm away, to scoff and sneer like everyone always did. They never understood. They made these concepts and put them to the test, but when they found it lacking in performance, it was so easy for them to cast it aside and undo it. To kill it. As though these were not already living beings with their own wants and needs. 

Hermes didn't expect Leirion to understand, so it stunned him when he noticed her face breaking into a small, contrite smile. She bowed her head. 

“Forgive me. I should have explained the procedure beforehand,” she said. “I was merely attuning to it, you see. Attunement is the first step in our mastering of beasts. It allows me to understand a creature's thoughts and communicate my intent, though on the rare occasions where the procedure is forcefully administered, it may inflict great pain on said creature. In the case of your khimaira, however, it was less a forceful administration and more a…” She paused, searching for the word. “…a complex, labyrinthine mind. I could not find a hook to hold.”

“Does that mean your attunement failed?” the chief overseer asked. 

Leirion whirled around. “Yes, unfortunately. Apologies. This is my first time attuning to creations still under observation.” She bowed again. “Perhaps, it would be best for you to ask for my superior.” 

Hermes felt the chief overseer glance at him. He looked away. 

“Why don’t you try again?” he heard the overseer say. 

Another glance—this one from Leirion—and another pause. “I shall be more careful.” 

The chief overseer called him over. With great reluctance, Hermes left the front of the cage. He felt Leirion’s uneasy glance as he passed by her. He could not bear to meet it, so he dipped his head and joined his mentor’s side. 

A warm hand met his stiff back. “I understand your feeling,” the chief overseer murmured, “but I implore you to watch her work. She is unlike the beastmasters you might have heard. Had I sought her superior instead, he would have deemed your khimaira unfit and told you to bring it to Lethe. But Leirion holds a similar level of regard to living creatures as you. If there is anyone who would not give up on a defective concept, it is her.” 

Hermes bit his lip. Before them, Leirion held her hand to the glass cage again. Her lips moved in those foreign enchantments and Hermes saw bright golden light spread from her point of contact throughout the entire cage, encasing the khimaira in beautiful gilded runes. He stared, transfixed, and it seemed the khimaira did too as it watched ribbons of light weave and dance all around and above it. 

Leirion’s chanting stopped, then she said, “I will begin.” Hermes braced himself. 

What came afterwards was not the violent thrashing that had overtaken the khimaira previously. Her spell came out in a soft melodious voice. Like a song, or a lullaby. It tugged Hermes’s heart, and he could see the khimaira perking its ears to listen. The creature pivoted toward Leirion, its gaze no longer enshrouded in malice but curiosity, if he could call it that. The khimaira rose to its feet and stalked toward the edge. It sat on its haunches right in front of her, its three heads swaying in rhythm with Leirion’s singing. 

“May I enter the cage?” her voice cut through the trance. 

What—

“I think it is starting to trust me.”

Wait—

Before neither Hermes nor the chief overseer could stop her, Leirion had skipped around the cage to the sealed door on the other side. Was she mad? Hermes was already halfway around the cage to stop her when she undid the seal and entered the cage.

Hermes’s breath caught on his throat; he waited, still as a statue, as the khimaira slowly turned its attention to the woman who just entered its domain. One pounce—that was all it would take for Leirion to receive a grave injury and the khimaira to break out of its cage and wreak havoc once more. But the song never lifted. Even as Leirion approached the towering beast, her enchantment rolled off her tongue, mesmerizing it into submission. 

She stopped before the large creature. It was easily three times her size and yet she stood not one yalm away. And she smiled—that enchantingly beautiful smile, so soft and comforting, as though telling him, telling the khimaira, that everything would be alright. She held her hand out to the creature, and part of Hermes imagined the khimaira would swipe it right off her limb, but it didn’t. It— 

The khimaira actually bent down to meet her hand. A soft golden glow emitted from her touch, and instantly, the khimaira fell on her lap. Like a docile cat; the lion seemed to purr under her touch, even the snake curled around and nudged her cheek. Hermes had never seen anything like it. 

The song fell away, but the gilded runes remained on the cage. 

The chief overseer joined his side. “Marvelous.” Even he was left breathless at the sight. 

“I’ve always wanted to have her here, you know,” he went on. “Instill some morale into our staff, adjust their way of thinking that even faulty concepts have hopes to be salvaged. But the Akadaemia has a vice grip around her, ‘tis not easy to poach her.”

“Poach…” Hermes couldn’t help but scoff at the choice of word. 

His mentor joined in his mirth. “Would you not like that, Hermes? To have her as a colleague you can trust.”

He couldn’t say. Perhaps? But even were he to give an answer, it would still hinge upon her own decision, so what could he say? Hermes remained silent as he watched Leirion now sitting on the ground with a khimaira three times her size dozing on her lap. 

***

Leirion returned to Elpis for a time after that. It took a while before the khimaira was truly ready to be released into the wild. The golden runes apparently had helped calm the cacophony of the khimaira’s mind and assisted her in locating the “hook” to attune, while her “song” was a method she had devised in placating an unruly beast. Once Leirion had completely attuned to it, they finally brought it out to the fields, and Leirion remained as the khimaira’s translator until the beast was fully adapted into life. 

It was indeed an incomplete concept, as Hermes had initially deduced. Upon the chief overseer’s offer to give her a place as an Elpis researcher, Leirion had asked if she would be allowed to attune to some of the beasts under observation. Before she made her decision, she claimed, though Hermes reckoned she had wanted to test her own theory regarding the khimaira’s complexity. Apparently, attuning to some of the other creatures didn’t give her as much trouble as the khimaira, and hence their conclusion that the khimaira might have been a hastily put concept. They might have been successful in subduing this current creation, but the researcher would still need to refine its design. 

“I do not fault your desire to give it a chance at life,” Leirion said. 

Having spent the past months together, Leirion had taken to walking with Hermes after her job was done. Unbeknownst to her, he enjoyed their time together. She had such a brilliant mind and was encompassingly kind. He never felt the need to hold back his thoughts. Every time he conveyed them, she would listen, intently, as though what he spoke mattered. 

But now the conversation had steered into the topic of the khimaira, and Hermes felt the edges of his heart folding in on itself. 

“You have a kind soul that few possess. I understand your desire to protect it.” 

“But?” he asked. 

“But I would rather you prioritize your own safety and everyone else’s.”

Hermes pursed his lips. “Even if that means killing it off?”

Leirion paused. “No,” she said. She crouched down. Hermes looked over his shoulder and found her crouching before a flower—silver in its stalk with petals that bloomed a grayish hue. Hermes averted his gaze. He hated the flower, but Leirion was stroking the soft petals. “No, what I meant was that if ever you find yourself in a similar predicament, you should swallow your pride and ask for help.”

He blinked and she grinned at his confusion. “I’ll be working here starting tomorrow.”

Oh. 

Leirion gasped. “Hermes, look!” 

And he did, and he saw how, for the first time, the Elpis bloom glowing a bright yellowish color, almost as bright as the solar disc that now shone on their backs.

“This is the first time I’ve seen it change colors,” Leirion went on. “It’s so pretty.”

Hermes choked on air. How could a man hide his thoughts in a field of flowers that detected emotions? But at least his momentary surprise had taken Leirion’s attention off the flowers. Now he needed to find a way to hide his mortification. 

“Are you alright, Hermes? Were you really that surprised?” She paused, then grinned. “Or is it that you’re happy?” 

The wind picked up. One of the petals tore free and danced between him and her. He caught sight of the yellow swiftly turning into pink and red. He choked again. 

“Hermes!” Leirion cried and leaped to her feet. “Seriously, are you alright!? We should find you something to drink—” 

He should get her away from here. Mortification be damned; he couldn’t have her notice how the field around them was turning yellow to pink and red. He grasped Leirion’s hand and dragged her away.