Call Me: write a drabble about one character asking for another.
OCs: Whumpee!Arch and Caretaker!Paimon.
CW: None.
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It was a gentle floating, whirling feeling. Like being on a playground swing, steadily climbing to its apex from which there was no descent. If it were real, Arch would have doubled over in nausea by now, but they didn’t because there was no reason to. The darkness granted the illusion of no movement at all, despite what was otherwise felt. They were traveling farther than they had ever traveled before in their mind- in this space they believed to be their mind; an imagined Labyrinth, merely devised in a dream and created out of pure, pathetic need.
They wondered when they would see her. They hoped they might find her. Call out to her somehow.
“Mom!?”
The darkness continued to whirl through the Labyrinth without a sound. Arch’s voice was lost to the darkness too, as though it was sucked up through a vacuum. Without any solid forms to echo their voice back to them, there wasn’t even the illusion that they were not alone.
“Mom!?”
The more they cried out, the more they felt lost in the solitary prison. Maybe mom was calling out too, Arch hoped, maybe I just can’t hear her… Maybe she can’t hear me…
The smallest beacon of light shone at a distance and with sudden charge, Arch flew toward it, and it grew bigger with every moment that passed.
“Mom? Is that you?”
They picked up their pace, and then realized that the light had passed them by already- the strange place had done a number on their sense of distance and time. They turned back and stopped. The light was there, floating by on its own accord and choosing its own direction to travel. Arch simply watched as the light continued on, unresponsive to their cries.
“Mom… Please… Is that you?” Arch could feel themselves crying, though there was nothing to prove that they were. “Mom I know it’s you… I can… I can feel it.”
Arch had no desire to leave the light behind. They followed it as it went on, and they paused by its side when it stopped. There was no way for them to hold the light, to touch it, or to do much else than just watch. The light lowered and remained lower for several moments. When it rose to its normal height, it left a familiar gold crucifix in its wake.
“MOM!”
Arch awoke with a jolt, the sound of their own shouting still filling their ears as they rose up from the pillow, nearly jumping off the side of the mattress onto the hard stone floor of Paimon’s home.
The lights of their room turned on, filling the space with an eerie orange glow. Then, there was a knock at the door.
With their heart still pounding and their sweat collecting at the back of their neck, they waited for the second set of knocks before they welcomed in exactly who they had expected would be knocking at that time.
Paimon opened the door, respectfully. His hooves clattered against the floor as he allowed himself in, and he sat on the edge of the bed in silence.
“Nightmare?” He began. He did not make eye contact with the human- they were not so willing to either.
“I don’t get nightmares,” Arch retorted. “Don’t be stupid.”
“It’s not stupid to become the victim of one’s own mind, it simply happens,” Paimon said, a hand smoothed out his long beard and rested at the end of it, twirling its point. “Every one of us has had to battle with our conscience, our guilt, and our fears at one time or another. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Arch settled themselves against the headboard, their arms choked out a long cream coloured pillow as they lowered their chin into it, hiding the redness that began to show itself below their eyes.
“Why did you let me remember her?” they asked him, muffled by the pillow.
“Would you have preferred I didn’t?” Paimon inquired, mildly surprised.
“Of course,” they replied. Tears came welling up, but they blinked them away as soon as the temptation to cry had struck them. “She would be so ashamed of me. Of what I’ve done… I’m… evil… I’m a… monster…”
“But my sweet, sweet, thing!” Paimon pressed a hand into their shoulder, eagerly but tenderly. “Don’t you see? Your shame about who you are and what you are- that is not your burden to carry! Your shame began with your family, and it will end with them. You feel their guilt and their fear, and the weight of their conscience. Don’t allow them to bring you down.”
“Then get rid of it for me! Erase them! Erase everything!” Arch pleaded.
Paimon shook his head, and removed his hand from their shoulder.
“That would be too easy. The moment that you can leave behind those you care for of your own volition, is the same moment you will know that you have become more powerful than any other being on Earth. I will not rob you of that victory.” Paimon stood up, and head towards the door. “Not in your wildest dreams.”
“Wait,” Arch felt awkward even thinking this, but it was what they needed. They had a big day tomorrow, and they needed some good rest. “Could you… Could you put me to sleep? No dreams, no nothing?”
Paimon returned to the bedside motioning for them to readjust their sleeping position. Taking the pillow from their arms, he fluffed it once and propped it beneath their head. Arch pulled a blanket up around their shoulders and sunk into the welcoming pillow and soft mattress below, feeling much more comfortable than mere moments before he had come into their room.
“Thank you, Paimon," they sighed.
Paimon nodded, and lifted a hand over their forehead. He lightly touched above their browbone.
“Cwsg sydyn.”
Paimon lowered the lights as he made his way toward the door. He gripped the doorknob and turned back as the sound of Arch’s deep breathing of slumber was already audible.
“Goodnight, sweet thing,” he uttered just before closing the door behind him.
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I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.
Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3
Xx -Alpaca
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump
CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS
Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.
- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.
Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.
“I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.
They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.
He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.
“This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”
“Paimon.”
Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”
The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.
Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.
“I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.
Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.
“You are correct. You are going into this one.”
The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.
“This is an abuse of power!”
“An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”
Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.
“If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.
Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.
“I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”
Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.
“I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”
Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.
“Dad?”
---------------------------------
“Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”
“It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”
“My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”
Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.
“No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”
Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.
Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”
Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.
“Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”
Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.
“Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.
Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.
“What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"
Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.
“When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”
“No.”
“Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”
“No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”
“Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”
He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.
Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.
“My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”
-----------------------------
“Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”
Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”
Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.
“Where are all my clothes?!”
DING DONG
“Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”
Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.
DING DING DING DING DING DONG!
Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.
It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.
“Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”
Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.
“Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”
‘Me, my, oh, what a life
So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’
“Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.
‘So, thank you!
For coming to my birthday party!
I am one minute old today
And everything is going great-’
Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.
“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.
“I… forgot how.”
Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.
“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”
“What?”
Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.
“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”
He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.
“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”
How did the air get so thick?
“And I have missed you… so much.”
Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.
“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”
Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.
Arch took a deep breath of relief.
“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”
“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”
Arch scrunched their face.
“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”
“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.
“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked.
Arch nodded.
“Then get out.”
There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.
Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.
“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.
Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.
“I… I think I was just kicked out.”
Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both.
Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.
That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.
And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.
Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, and everything seems to be going well. In fact, their life nearly becomes perfection; no more bullies, better grades, and a lot less stress. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems and that Lyrem has been hiding a very dark, and troubling secret…
Oooh I have to say I’m pretty proud of this chapter. I had to wrestle with a thousand and one plot-holes to make it work and it’s almost 2:30am but it was all worth it. Enjoy!
MasterList
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump
CW: Gore, body horror, creepy whumper, swearing, there’s one bad pun this time. I lol’d about it for arguably too long.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: CURTAINS
Paimon whistled an old tune through his lips as he stepped across the hall. The knives had been placed away, and in speaking with Apollo, he had come to a startling revelation about himself and his goals.
It was Arthur’s turn to be strapped down to the table and this time, it wouldn’t be in a dining hall. Before long, Paimon had the room transformed into a stage, with dining chairs to line the one and only audience row. There was no need for a large gathering. Paimon had a very limited guest list. He had sent invitations with some poorly thought puns just for the fun of it, and had no intention of being stood up. This would be a performance of a lifetime and as director, Paimon wouldn’t dare to have a single aspect go awry.
He clucked his hooves down the darkest hallway by-passing Apollo’s chamber for the one with the two sorry humans. It seemed they were cut off from a sour discussion when they heard his steps through the corridor.
“-it really shouldn’t take too much effort”-
“How would you know?” Lyrem hissed.
Paimon smiled, glad that the two prisoners were making nice with each other.
“Big plans, my boys?” he sauntered through, making eye contact with Arthur, who rolled his eyes away from the creature to avoid looking at him fully. “No? Not a fishing trip or some good old mountaineering? I hear Colorado is gorgeous this time of year.”
Paimon tapped a chain with a fingernail to produce a clinking sound near Arthur’s wrist. The chains began lowering themselves down at the behest of an invisible, magical force. The moment he had slack, Arthur wrapped a loop of chain around Paimon’s neck and pulled it taut against his forearm. He had the upper hand, and there was nothing that Paimon could do to affect him.
“Agree to let Arch out of this deal right now, you”-
Paimon grinned and vanished into a plume of black smoke. Arthur stumbled from the release of pressure against the beast.
Paimon stalked up behind him, enjoying the little act of defiance, but he had to be stern. He wagged a finger at the human and tutted.
“You know better than that,” Paimon exclaimed. “I may not be able to hurt you with magic, but I can certainly still use it to get myself out of a sticky situation.”
He kept himself to a distance as not to get tied up twice, and glanced toward Lyrem, who seemed to be keeping to himself and was intentionally avoiding eye contact by turning his head away.
“So emotional… Don’t worry old friend, you’ll get your chance as well,” Paimon noted. He returned to Arthur with a renewed interest in his eyes. “Now, you listen. We have quite the performance ahead of us and you’re already busted up enough as it is. I don’t want to make it any worse. That’s for Arch to do.”
Arthur glanced from Paimon to his way out into the hall and then back again.
“Clear terms,” Arthur began, “Arch is given five minutes to carve out my heart, and if they fail, they are free from all bonds, any agreements, including any signed ones they had with you. And if you use even one ounce of your power to force them”-
Paimon nodded, “I don’t know why you need to specify it, Arty, truly. Arch will do splendidly and you’ll never see the light of day again. It’s a winning situation all around.”
“If you try to force them into doing anything at all,” Arthur insisted. “Then Arch is released, agreed?”
Paimon scoffed, and nodded, “Agreed! For goodness sakes, were you a lawyer in a past life? Clearly not, I think. The lawyers I know wouldn’t come to an agreement like this unless it was in writing- they’d also think of themselves first. Do you have any clue what will happen to you, Arty? What will become of you if Arch is released?”
As Paimon rambled, he tapped the shackles again, and this time with severe discipline, Arthur refrained from trying to strike at Paimon a second time. His shackles were joined now; morphed from a joint in the wall to linking together from his wrists and his ankles with hardly a sound to it.
“I don’t care what happens to me,” Arthur declared, “as long as Arch is free from you.”
“Such a sweet thing, caring about your Arch so much. I doubt that feeling will last for very much longer.” Paimon ushered Arthur forward. He was unable to teleport him anyway. The Abysmal Flame prevented Arthur from being controlled by any force placed upon him that was not physical in nature. “Move along now, we don’t have all day. Our guests will be arriving shortly.”
With a final glance to Lyrem from across the room, Arthur followed Paimon out the door and through the halls.
The hall lit itself as Paimon took his hoof-steps through, avoiding the empty souls lurking between shadowed pillars. Arthur moved slowly, feeling tired and sick from his lacking energy.
“What guests?” Arthur inquired.
“Did I not tell you earlier that it was a performance? I invited several guests to have front row seats… my uncle Hades, my half-sister, and oh, of course, your dear sister Charlotte as well.”
Arthur’s blood ran frigid. The tense, shaky breath that followed made Paimon smirk with delight.
“Ah yes, I’ll be sure she is there to watch her child to carve out the heart of her dear little brother. I couldn’t pass up that opportunity.”
“But you’re also releasing Hades? And Persephone?” Arthur asked with a puzzled look as they ascended the stairs.
“You mistake me for a fool?” Paimon challenged. “They will be bound to obeying me and my laws the moment they enter through the door I’ve created for them. Don’t think they’ll be there to do anything more than watch you suffer.”
Paimon led Arthur up to a small door that opened to the dining hall- now a stage with some seating and a table for Arthur to lie on.
Arthur stood at the head of the table as Paimon motioned for him to climb up. Shaking his head regretfully, he pulled his hand from his pocket, hoisted himself up and spun onto its surface. His chains were tapped again, and obeyed Paimon perfectly. They fastened themselves into the table until Arthur’s arms were taut to his side and his hands had just a little wiggle room near his hips.
Arthur stared up at the satyr, feeling more vulnerable than he ever did before, and watched Paimon lean over eagerly. His pointed beard draped across Arthur’s shoulder and touched the tabletop.
“This is a good look for you,” he mentioned with a deadly grin.
Feeling humble, Arthur looked away, seeing the chairs that would soon be filled with spectators; one of which would be his sister. Suddenly, he wasn’t so concerned for himself anymore.
“Don’t make Charlotte watch.”
“Hmm?”
Arthur blinked slowly, knowing that Paimon had heard him clear as day and yet pretended not to. This was all part of the fun. There was no point in repeating himself.
From the back wall, behind the chairs, a bright light glowed where three outlines stood, waiting to make their entrance.
“Ah, here they come.” Paimon smiled and offered Arthur a wink. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
--------------------------------------
Earlier,
“What are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to create another portal.”
Lyrem sighed. Arthur’s efforts were admirable at least.
“The chains will prevent you from crossing through,” he said. “Besides, I’ve already explained to you once that the only way out of this is to go through with the deal you made”-
“I’m not trying to make a portal for me,” Arthur spoke exasperated. “I’m trying to create one for you. I know how these things go down, alright? You get into a deal with someone and then they change the rules, they raise the price because they know what you need from them. Once Arch is out of their deal, Paimon will use them against me. Arch might end up back at square one if we don’t have a significant amount of leverage.”
“Life as a junkie has certainly prepared you for this moment, hasn’t it?”
Arthur stared at the old man incredulously at the sudden unloading of baggage, and shook his head.
“My apologies” Lyrem corrected himself and cleared his throat. “You hope to release me, which won’t work, and then expect me to… do what?”
“Release Apollo. Find your friend Hekate… I assume you are resourceful enough to figure something out so that we can finally end this nightmare. It really shouldn’t take too much effort.”
“How would you know?” Lyrem hissed.
Falling to a sudden silence, Lyrem made a quick glance to Arthur as Paimon entered. Paimon addressed Arthur first.
Arthur was in no condition to create portals. Lyrem could see that he was in pain enough already as it was, but even so, Arthur’s eyes locked with his for the briefest of seconds when the chains became loose. Arthur had directed his eyes to Lyrem and then nodded toward his left hand.
The smallest of voids had formed behind his hand and into the metal piece that held his wrist up. Before Paimon could pay any significant attention to Lyrem, Arthur had wrapped a chain around his neck and started to threaten him.
Perhaps Lyrem had misjudged Arthur’s capacity to be clever, but it was still only one small portal; a gap in space and time where his wrist could pass through. It wasn’t quite enough to set Lyrem free; not yet, anyhow. Lyrem took the distraction as an opportunity to recite a mantra respecting the sacred geometry; one that would hopefully allow him to multiply one portal into four.
“Ek mein do, do mein chaar,” he whispered. The power flowed through him like water; out of earshot from Paimon, who hadn’t even realized that Lyrem was reciting ancient magic that no one had any claim over.
“So emotional… Don’t worry old friend, you’ll get your chance as well.”
Lyrem ignored Paimon’s words, still concentrating on himself instead. Soon, the other two exited the room, and Lyrem recited his words one final time before falling completely forward onto his hands and knees.
“Even as a dead man, I still feel pain,” he muttered bitterly. “How is that fair?”
He grunted, lifting himself to his feet and turned around, noticing the shackles were still intact and the voids still existing on their metal cuffs. In a spark of light, the four voids collapsed into themselves and left nothing behind.
“Must learn how to do that one day…” Remembering the task at hand, he rubbed his hands together and made his way through to the hall. “Now, to find our… leverage.”
Paimon and Arthur were gone from the hall, and it was left in darkness. The decrepit beings that roamed the halls there ignored him as he followed the corridor down to where he knew Apollo would be kept as a prisoner. The light still poured from beneath, leaking out into the hall. Lyrem took a quick glance from side to side and opened the door.
Lyrem forced himself forward towards the Sun God with his eyes squinting through the brightness. The light dimmed as the god awoke, exhausted from his half-brother’s brief visit. Lyrem started on one of the shackles holding Apollo in place around a wrist but realized soon that they were clearly the same as the ones he had only just escaped from, one room over and wouldn’t be able to get through them without help.
“Shit,” Lyrem muttered. Apollo did not look surprised or like he cared.
“Controlled by Pan, for Pan, I’m afraid,” he managed. “Did you, a silly little mortal, really believe that you could release me? There was a good reason why I sent that call through to you. I wanted to reach Persephone, or Hades.
You are useless.”
Lyrem backed off from Apollo, put on edge from the insulting remark.
“I’ll have you know I contained a great amount of magical prowess before I met your brother! Now, help me find a way to release you before”-
Apollo chuckled tiredly.
“What? What is so funny?”
“You,” Apollo answered. “You are a fool! The reason I am here at all is because Pan convinced you to tear out your father’s heart. I couldn’t give him what he wanted when I lost. I bet on the wrong horse’s conscience, didn’t I? And now, you are here, trying to right all the wrong you’ve done at the behest of Pan and oh… it just makes me laugh. It’s practically poetry.”
“Well, then,” Lyrem didn’t have time to explain himself, nor should he have to at all. His life was just laid out before him once again as a used chew toy on the ground. Now Apollo was the one judging him for his decisions. Lyrem looked to Apollo’s chest that was opened and bore a golden heart, still pumping. It was the source of the light. Paimon had left the clamp on to hold the gaping wound open. Lyrem touched the metal handle, and jolted back as it was very hot- as though it had been sitting in the heat of a flame. He quickly soothed his hand, weaved a protection spell through his fingers and promptly tried a second time. He gripped it, loosened the bar, and pulled.
Apollo screamed. The release of his wound was more painful than either of them had expected it to be. Lyrem tossed the metal bar to the ground and raised a brow. The light faded more and more as the wound healed over in record time.
“How was that?” Lyrem sniffed, wiping the golden blood off of his hands and onto his pant leg. “Was that a good enough deed for you? Or should I have torn your heart out for fun? Believe it or not, I am capable of making rational decisions- even those where my dear dad was involved. If you had known him, you’d have ripped him apart too.”
Apollo had no choice but to listen to Lyrem as his body recovered quite painfully.
“Maria once told me that I was too passionate- too emotional for her. I tried to rectify that, in order to please her, to please Pan, and everyone else I had come across in life thinking that I was always doing something wrong. But, I see now, emotional is part of who I am. Doing things out of emotion does not make me any less rational- on the contrary I believe it has made me much more productive.” Lyrem stopped speaking as Apollo met his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
The god exhaled, thankful that his chest had closed up completely. The light in the room had gone out, leaving the ambient glow of the bulbs along the wall. Lyrem stood along the ledge, searching for any portion of chain that might be weak enough to sever. There wasn’t. If Lyrem remembered correctly, Paimon had once boasted about acquiring them from Ares, the God of War and he wasn’t anything, if not particular about securing prisoners. But Ares hadn’t met Lyrem Nomadus, and Lyrem Nomadus wasn’t planning to leave Apollo chained up in the basement of the Underworld without trying a few tricks of his own. Unbound by the chains and without Paimon around to interfere, Lyrem was much handier than any god would expect. The chains began to lower, releasing slack to Apollo until his bare feet rested on the floor.
“How are you doing that?” Apollo asked. He turned his head. Lyrem hadn’t done visibly, anything to warrant the lowering chains. Their lengths clinked to the floor.
“A calming chant, a song of innocence- although…”
“What?” Apollo asked, impatient in Lyrem’s pause. The cuffs hadn’t released.
“To release you, would mean you would have to give Paimon what he was owed,” Lyrem said. “What do you owe to him?”
Apollo grunted, “he doesn’t deserve what I owe him. Not after everything he has done to our family and to me.”
Lyrem raised a brow in mild confusion, “then why stick by his side? Why play his games at all?”
“Because I care about him,” he growled back. “Like an idiot. I humored him because I felt like I had to- like I could make him better if I gave him my attention. He’s my family, and one of my closest kin. And… He’s a lost cause.”
Out of habit, Lyrem reached for his stopwatch, which had been destroyed long ago, just to see how much time had passed them by. Such an indication only told him that they would be running out of time soon enough.
Arch would be carving into Arthur at any moment now.
“What did Paimon want?”
“He wanted a Sun for his realm, the Labyrinth.”
“Give it to him.” Lyrem ordered. “And when he goes back, you will lock him in. Can you manage that?”
“Lock my brother in his own realm?” Apollo looked skeptical, but nodded. “I’ll do what I can. But truthfully, there is no guarantee”-
“And we’ll have to remove one of the Labyrinth’s inhabitants first. A little girl. Maybe a year old,” Lyrem added.
“There is a child in the Labyrinth? Why?” Concerned, Apollo watched Lyrem gulp slightly.
“I’d rather not say.” Lyrem gestured for Apollo to open a door to the Labyrinth. “But you could take her out of there, couldn’t you? And she would be… fine?”
“I believe so,” Apollo pushed his hands together in concentration, and then pulled them apart until a void grew in front of them. “Once the Sun is delivered there, I should be able to remove her quite easily.”
“Good, good…” Lyrem muttered. “Well? What are you waiting for? Give him the Su”-
They were no longer in the basement area. Instead, Lyrem was seated in a chair from the dining hall and staring out at a familiar set of faces. One was on the table, trying to speak to the shorter one standing over them with a jeweled blade; Arthur was pleading with them to listen- to hear them. But Arch was in the middle of a sweet guitar lick and couldn’t hear anything happening, even if it was only a foot or two away. They were waiting to the next song before they started their five-minute carving challenge, just as Paimon asked them to. Charlotte sat beside him on one side and beyond her, Persephone and Hades. All watched on, not paying mind to Lyrem and Apollo’s sudden arrival. Paimon found his own seat between Lyrem and Apollo and sat himself down.
He chuckled looking from one disappointed face to the other and handed each of them a pamphlet. Grinning, he patted both of them on the shoulder.
Sorry for the impromptu hiatus, I became pretty busy these last few weeks -and in addition I had little inspo to continue as of late- but never fear! Mystics is back on the road and I plan to finish the first draft of this story by the end of August! (Here’s hoping!)
Xx. - Alpaca
Read Chapters 1-29 and more HERE
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump
CW: Not much to warn about for this one! Just some discussion of future mutilation to come :)
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CHAPTER THIRTY: VOW AND PROMISE
“He didn’t.”
“I am telling you, Persephone, Lyrem must have put Rosanna in the Labyrinth. Who else would have been so callous? So evil?”
“He would never,” she stamped her foot making her stance known. “Lyrem would have loved his own child more than life itself. I saw into his memories and I guarantee you, Charlotte, that it was my half-brother’s doing.”
Charlotte raised a finger toward the goddess. “Hold on- who is your half-brother?”
Persephone sighed and then muttered nearly out of ear-shot, “who isn’t my half-brother…”
Persephone took a step back. There was a lot that Charlotte didn’t know and in the midst of explaining the Pan/ Paimon conundrum, Charlotte stopped her.
“Arthur told me about the demon, Persephone.”
“He’s a diabolical thing- I call Pan a demon all the time”-
“No- Arthur thinks that Pan is a demon. He’s walking in there with holy water as a weapon and my crucifix in his pocket!”
Persephone’s eyes grew a little wider. “… Oh, oh right...” she peeped.
“So, what you’re saying is that my child is currently not just stuck with that venomous creep, Lyrem, but they are also being held hostage by a sadistic malevolent God,” Charlotte surmised, “and for some reason you and… Hades the God of the Underworld, sent my very mortal, very human brother to save them without any help at all?”
The booming voice of Hades came down from somewhere above to justify the logic of the situation.
“Well, you see, our souls are larger than the souls of mortal humans, dear little thing. It is easier for Pan to shut the door on beings like myself and Persephone. Mortals like you are like ants… or termites: they squeeze in through the cracks of our realms and cause a mess here and there without care for us. I gave Arthur just a touch of my power to stand a fighting chance of releasing Apollo from his prison there. Once he does, Pan will likely be unable to defend his claim on our territory.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Did you just call me a termite?”
Hades fell silent, using the fact that he was unseen to his advantage and pretended to have not heard the woman. Charlotte shook her head in the attempt to clear it.
“How can I believe that Pan won’t simply snap his fingers and kill Arthur? Or Arch? And what exactly is your goal here? To leave? Once you escape, how can I be certain that my child and my brother exit the Underworld alive?!”
“Once we are released, we will be allowed back into the Underworld, and we will punish Pan for his crimes against your family and humanity itself,” Persephone explained as Charlotte advanced on her like a predator. “Right, Uncle?”
“Of course,” Hades confirmed.
Charlotte took their words lightly, knowing she had little advantage in the position she held.
“I don’t trust you- either of you! You act as though people are just little toys- pawns to observe and to order around! Arch isn’t safe in your hands anymore than they are in Pan’s. Of that much, I am certain”-
“There’s no reason to further explain our position on the matter,” Hades boomed, sounding for the first time uneasy and somewhat offended. “Persephone, just ignore the termite. We shall wait for Apollo to open a way through for us.”
Persephone’s gaze fell from the woman and into the darkness as she battled her conscience. She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated, wondering if Hades was right; if she should listen to her uncle. She eyed Charlotte carefully as a pang of guilt struck her through like a sword. The mother’s anger was understandable. She had lost her child without any indication to whether they were alive or safe. The situation was strikingly familiar; Persephone found herself wondering if her own mother had tried searching for her, and fought gods with the same passionate rage as Charlotte was now. She would have been honoured if Demeter had done anything of the sort. Running away from Mount Olympus without a word to anyone was a very cruel thing to do- whether or not it was to a trusted family member. Persephone saw that now, clear as ever.
“Charlotte, Mother of Arch,” Persephone addressed her and then gulped. “You have my word that your family will be protected and will leave the Underworld unharmed”-
Hades’ voice came scolding from above. “Persephone…”
“-this I vow.”
From underneath the shoulder of her dress came winding down a string of vines.
“I serve my own essence as sacrifice upon the condition that”-
“Persephone!” Hades growled, interrupting her, “a deal such as this is not to be taken so lightly!”
Charlotte rose her head to watch the blooming white flowers spring from Persephone’s arm and grow down to her fingers with poisonous thorns to ward off any who would try to remove her power from her. The vines began to wither and die from her shoulders down, killing the flowers as Hades forced her hand. In a snap decision, Persephone plucked the last remaining flower from the tips of her fingers. Hades had tried to work quickly, but it was not enough.
“There!” Persephone grasped Charlotte’s hand, with her own, giving the woman the flower to hold. Now you can’t say anything, Uncle.”
Hades audibly huffed in disappointment. “You stupid child!”
Charlotte stared down at the flower, wondering what it all meant.
“Everything I am is in that blossom,” Persephone said boldly, and terrified, “If Arch is not returned safely to you and to Earth- if Arthur isn’t returned safely and to Earth, then… you can choose whether or not I continue living as a goddess.”
Charlotte blinked. She expected to have some sort of leverage- maybe get something in writing, but this was beyond what she had expected to receive as collateral.
“You can’t trust a mortal with your essence, Persephone!” Hades continued to berate. “They are sneaking, and conniving! You have no idea what this one will do with it!”
“She can’t use it, Uncle.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then you had better help her save her child then, and her brother,” Persephone advised, feeling more powerful with every word, “otherwise, Charlotte will turn me into one of your loathsome termites… Won’t you?” she turned.
Charlotte cupped the flower gently in her hand, “what about Rosanna?”
Persephone nodded somberly. “We will try our best to help you find her as well.”
Hades was thankful yet again for his unseen nature as he contemplated what he would have to tell Zeus and Demeter about the poor decisions their daughter had made under his care. How did a simple Pan-esque prank become a life and death situation for a goddess? And for the sake of a few measly mortals, no less! There was nothing to be done about it now. Charlotte had Persephone’s essence in her hand. As he watched the women make their bargain with life, the flower petals melded into Charlotte’s palm.
It tickled, and then ached as the flower solidified beneath her skin. Charlotte felt the area, seemingly no different than before besides a small outline of the six petals. She looked back at Persephone, who was looking a bit humbled by the experience, and now seemed rather discouraged by the cautionary words spewed by her most trusted of family.
“Thank you,” Charlotte swallowed back any more show of emotion. “Now… Is there anything we can do to help Arch? To help Arthur?”
“No! We are stuck here until we have Apollo!” Hades grew sick and tired of repeating himself.
“Unfortunately, he is right,” Persephone concurred.
Charlotte huffed, with her hands on her hips, staring daggers at the goddess.
Persephone gulped, “but, we can start a plan to find Rosanna, I suppose.”
Charlotte nodded, “that’s better.”
------------------------------
Meanwhile, in the Underworld,
“Just relax,” Paimon crooned.
“Relax?! You lied to me. I’m not becoming any stronger, am I?” Arch’s anger was getting the better of them- overpowering even their fear.
“Now, now, I didn’t lie to you,” Paimon countered, controlling his own temperament. “I asked difficult things of you, and in return I promised to reward you. Doesn’t that seem fair?”
“Not when you can just take it away and give it back at will! Lyrem said you weren’t a demon either so what the hell are you?”-
“Lyrem says a lot of things. It does not matter- and it will not matter, very soon. Just relax, now.” Paimon held their shoulders down as Arch sat in the desk chair. Keeping them still was important. “I am not as talented in the memory department as most of my kin are, so if you struggle up here”- he tapped their forehead with a couple fingers. “-then I may take away your ability to speak, or dance, or enjoy rom-coms. That doesn’t sound very pleasant, now, does it?”
Arch glared at him with their jaw clenched tight. They held back.
“No,” they reluctantly agreed. “But… what if I don’t want to forget?”
Paimon tsked at them. “Nobody wants to forget,”-
“No, I mean,” they tried to clarify. Paimon looked like he wasn’t going to be willing to give them much time. “What if… I still want to work with you?”
Paimon stopped himself from raising his hand to their head. He looked at them skeptically and considered their words.
“Despite knowing what you know?” he asked.
Arch nodded.
“Look, I am pissed that you lied, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make this work. I still want power, but I want to have a clear arrangement, you know?” They continued, noticing the change in Paimon’s demeanour. He was considering the offer. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark- if the power is yours and I borrow it from time to time, then I’m happy with that- I just want to know things.”
Paimon raised hand to his mouth and backed away to contemplate. Idly, he fiddled with the discman and headphone set on the desk.
“Just let me know things. That’s all I ask.” The voice repeated behind him.
“And what about our mutual friend?”
“Lyrem?”
Paimon nodded, turning to them.
Arch scratched at their nose.
“I think Lyrem needs to retire.” They stated.
“And… your uncle? Your mother?”
Their scratching nails found the back of their neck. They thought of Charlotte’s disappearance, and Arthur’s insistence to help them get out of the mess they had found themselves in.
But Arch knew better than to assume everything could return to normal. Uncle Arty didn’t know that what they had become. He didn’t know that they had started flaying people alive, and dismembering bodies, and removing human hearts to eat them. There was no way to go back to who they were. Not now. It was for the best if they became a distant memory.
“I never want to see them ever again,” they replied.
Paimon feigned a sympathetic pout and wrapped a comforting arm around their shoulder. No nails dug into their flesh, no threats followed, but instead-
“I promise, you’ll never have to see them ever again,” he spoke reassuringly, and then added, “Not if you do one last thing for me.”
Arch nodded, “alright, name it.”
“I have made a deal with Lyrem- he doesn’t believe you to be strong enough yet to take over for him when he is gone.” Paimon started. “If you can show him that you are skilled enough- ruthless enough- to replace him then his empire is yours- oh, and it will be mine as well, I suppose. I know you want everything to be straightforward.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Arch stood themselves up, and walked through the room. “And how do I prove myself?”
“You’ll carve out a heart for him,” Paimon grinned, “without any help, in under five minutes”-
“That doesn’t seem too hard”-
“-and blindfolded.”
Their dark brows knit together, suspiciously studying the satyr.
“Straightforward,” Arch broached. “Who am I carving?”
Paimon waved a hand. “Oh, there is need for you to be concerned with”-
“Is it Lyrem? I bet it’s Lyrem.”
Paimon paused, sighed, and cocking his head at them, he wagged his finger. “I told him you were quick!”
Arch shrugged with their usual sideways smirk.
“I am pretty smart, aren’t I?” they boasted. “Hey, can I listen to some tunes while I do it? Personally, I don’t like all the screaming and crying.”
Paimon picked up the discman without hesitation and handed it over to them.
When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….
Read Chapters 1-27 and more HERE
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump
CW: gore mention, manhandling, violence.
Lyrem and Arch have an opportunity to catch up with one another in the Underworld.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: GOOD INTENTIONS
Dragged up to his feet and through the halls of the caverns, Arthur didn’t resist. Lyrem followed closely behind.
“I cannot wait to see the look on Arch’s face when they find you torn open beneath them,” Paimon jeered on. “It would truly be the highlight of my life.”
“Arch would never hurt another person like that,” Arthur countered assuredly, “Not me, and not anyone, ever. Not unless they were being forced. You’re a liar.”
Lyrem scratched the back of his neck, keeping to himself. Paimon turned his head, expecting some response from his friend by now. Lyrem had convinced Arch to do innumerable misdeeds without anything more than an encouraging smile. He should be revelling in Arthur’s assumptions more than anyone.
But he wasn’t.
Paimon led the man down the spiral stairs and through the halls where the decaying creatures writhed in the shadows. Arthur shuddered as he saw them skittering about. They clearly wanted to come in close, but something was turning them off of the scent, causing them to fall back into the darkness where they could find it.
“Didn’t you hear me? The bet’s off if Arch is forced into it, even slightly,” Arthur imposed, despite being dragged along as though he weighed nothing, by a creature who had a foot on him in height. “I get it, you know. I get your games. What more can you do to turn innocent souls into monsters like Lyrem? You must have so much fun preying on desperate people”-
Lyrem opened a door across the hall from Apollo’s chamber, and allowed Paimon to push Arthur through. He stumbled in, cut off from his speech and grasped his leg that was giving him hell. He wasn’t finished. The rage boiled up inside him, threatening to overflow. They separated; Paimon pulled one of the shackled chains across the room.
“You know, I really shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a tainted evil son-of-a-bitch,” Arthur grimaced, eyeing Lyrem, “-especially after learning what you did to Rosanna. You’re a sick bastard, whether or not you serve a demonic god creature.”
Lyrem had found it mostly easy to keep himself calm up until this point- up until more specifically, he had heard that name. The memories that Hades and Persephone had pulled out of him were numerous and purposeful, but now he knew that they weren’t confidential either- how much had they been able to see that Lyrem hadn’t even realized? How much did they share with others?
He grasped Arthur by the neck, pushing him up against the wall.
“If you dare to speak my mother’s name one more time, I will destroy you right here, right now,” in the threatening calm, Lyrem’s eyes burned with a determined fire. “And you will never see Arch again. Is that understood?”
Arthur, while struggling against the old man’s surprising amount of strength for a dead man, looked back at him with a confused glare.
“Lyrem, my friend,” Paimon interceded with cuffs in his hands, “why don’t you check on our young protégé and make sure they aren’t sneaking about?”
“You stay the hell away from Arch, you sons of bitches”-
Lyrem stepped away from Arthur to fulfill Paimon’s request. the cuffs lashed out, snapping Arthur’s head to the side as he was met with the blunt force from Paimon who simply wanted him to remain quiet. As their captive fell to a crumpled heap against the wall, Paimon took the opportunity to fasten the cuffs to each wrist, and then turn the crank of the pulley system that would soon have him suspended a little ways off the ground. Feeling torn, Lyrem left Arthur there to suffer. It wasn’t like the man hadn’t already suffered enough- and with the recent quip he pulled out about his mother, Lyrem felt some vindication leaving him there.
Meanwhile, Arch was lost in their own world, wandering through the upper hallways with a discman in one hand and headphones attached to their ears. Paimon had offered them a selection of CDs from the Mortal Realm for them to enjoy and they did so quite frequently since they received it. Lyrem came upon them as he turned the corner up the stairs. They didn’t notice him at first, until he tapped their shoulder. They jumped, nearly a foot into the air, and pulled their headphones off. They let them rest around their neck. The sounds of Kula Shaker rocked the hall even through the headphones. Lyrem grimaced, it couldn’t be good for their ears.
“It helps with the alarm bells,” they reasoned aloud. “What’s up?”
“I was hoping we could talk,” Lyrem said, leading them further from the stairs and the caverns below. “It occurred to me that we haven’t had a moment to speak without Paimon around.”
Arch turned their head, scoping out for any sign of the demon, and then returned to Lyrem with an awkward smile.
“Why do we need to talk without him?” Arch chuckled through the question unnerved. “We didn’t do anything wrong, did we? Wait- did I?”-
Lyrem shook his head, “no, no. Of course, not.”
Arch swallowed back some nervousness and found themselves outside their bedroom door. They opened it, and let Lyrem inside.
“Cool. Okay, great. Then… what do you want to talk about?”
“You. I want to know how you are feeling… being here.”
Arch blinked. “Fine.”
They set down the discman onto a desk and then leaned against it, finding it difficult to meet his eyes which were looking at them increasingly more concerned as the seconds went by.
“I’m feeling fine,” they repeated. “… I thought… you would want me to be fine- to be happy here.”
“Oh, I don’t care about happy,” Lyrem spoke briefly as an aside. He smoothed out a corner of their crumpled-up bedspread and sat himself down. “Do you miss Earth? Do you miss your family?”
Arch’s face twisted; their nostrils flared. “No.”
They swallowed again. It happened a lot sometimes, when they knew that they’d need to maintain composure.
“Arch, it’s okay if you miss them. I won’t punish you for it.”
Taking a breath, Arch left Lyrem there, and found their way to the washroom. They closed the door and turned on the tap for some refreshing cold water. Lyrem waited until they emerged again, red faced from a towel that was used a bit too vigorously.
“Everything is fine, Lyrem,” they answered finally. “My uncle will miss me. But my mom is in the Labyrinth. She might never come back after what you did… and that’s… fine.” They managed, barely.
“She never liked me much anyway. At least here, I have two people- well, you and a demon- to look out for me. I don’t think I would ever have that anywhere else.”
Arch scratched the back of their neck as Lyrem listened in.
“And I’m going to learn more, right? Eat a few more hearts and Paimon thinks I might be able to manage some telekinesis. That would be pretty amazing, right?”
Lyrem stared at the floor.
“Right?” Arch sat themself beside him on the bed.
Lyrem turned. He found it difficult to bring himself to meet their gaze, but once he did, he was at a loss for words. Their eyes, which were once a young and rich mahogany were now strained and desperate with the knowledge and guilt of their actions. It had been a tiring game to pretend these things didn’t bother them- the crow’s feet beneath their eyelids told him as such.
“You need to go,” He nearly whispered.
“What?”
“You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave this place. You need to escape, Arch. I’ll do my best to help you. I have thought about a series of ways to help you leave, and only one is really a plausible scenario to execute with success, but”-
“H-hold on,” Arch’s brows furrowed. “What the hell are you saying? Is this… is this a test? Are you two testing me?”
Lyrem shook his head. “No, no. I would never trick you like that.”
“Then why are you saying this? This isn’t you”-
“Paimon is not who he says he is,” Lyrem said, meeting their eyes steadily. There was so much to explain. “He’s not a demon at all. The hearts that he gives you to eat, are not sources of power. He’s been lying to you.”
A shiver ran down Arch’s spine. As the meaning of Lyrem’s words sunk deeper, their fists clenched on their lap until their knuckles whitened.
“What do you mean they’re not sources of power?”
Lyrem fell silent which was highly inconvenient at the time.
“I asked you a question, Lyrem!”
His eyes snapped up to them. They had stepped off the bed in their fury and stuck the end of a fingernail in their mouth. They gnawed at it until it ripped the skin on one side and bled.
“Fuck,” Arch hissed and winced.
In all the rage, Lyrem remained calm and seated. “I am sorry Arch. I never knew either. But we have a chance to escape and we must take it.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Say again?”
“We don’t have a chance to escape. I signed myself over to Paimon. He can control everything I do.”
“A simple fix. We have to find that contract then and destroy it”-
“He’s already turned it to ash! It’s not just a piece of paper, it’s… everything. That’s why I’ve been doing what he wants. There’s no point in fighting it, Lyrem- not when he can just force me to do everything, anyway. I’ve already tried. I’ve… I’ve given up! I’m a torturer now, a cannibal, and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ve come to accept it- just like you asked me to!”
Lyrem shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done that- it was wrong, and I put your life- your soul- in danger by doing so. I only wanted you to become the best version of yourself”-
“No, you didn’t!” they snarled in reply. “You were lonely! And you wanted to save your own skin! Don’t act like this was all some sort of mistake with good intentions! You are a monster and you made me one too. So, thanks a lot, man.”
Arch stepped into the washroom again to tend to their finger. They emerged, focusing solely on the small tissue that slowly turned pinker as they pressed it on. “By all means, you can try to escape. I don’t care what you do, but I’m cutting my losses here. Paimon’s too powerful to”-
Arch froze, seeing Paimon standing in the doorway.
“To what, sweet thing?”
Lyrem stood at the foot of the bed, also too shocked to move any further. Arch darted their eyes between them both. This was definitely not a test. As they stood frozen, without a word to say, Paimon walked slowly through the room, gaining the attention of Lyrem on the way.
“Paimon, please. I can explain”-
“Not another word from you, my friend.”
Lyrem remained silent.
Arch stood to attention for Paimon as they paced. He didn’t like it when they cried. Out of instinct to explain themselves, their head shook from side to side.
“I- I- I didn’t- I wasn’t going to”-
“I know,” Paimon finished for them. “It’s alright, Arch. I believe you.”
They breathed out in relief as Paimon’s hands cupped their face. He tilted his head down to plant a soft kiss on their forehead before turning away. Arch looked to Lyrem with concern and fear of what would happen next.
“But you, my friend…” Paimon tutted as he approached Lyrem. “You have yourself plenty of explaining to do.”
“Yes, I know, I”-
“But I care not for hearing it now.” Paimon interrupted. “I’ll have you strung up in the caverns below just like our other guests.”
For not having a working heart, Lyrem still felt as though his was pounding its way out of his chest. He wasn’t impervious to the anxieties that came with making a god angry- his last encounters with Hekate and Hades showed him that much- but they were kind in comparison. They were relatively understanding at minimum and patient with humankind. This was Paimon. He was vengeful, and wrathful, and he didn’t care for people.
“Please Paimon, just listen to me for a moment. We’ve done so much together and I have no intention on leaving, but Arch is… Arch is young and they deserve a chance to live their life the way they want it”-
Paimon squared himself up in front of Lyrem as he stumbled through his words and grinned sympathetically. He shook his head. Lyrem continued, knowing that he was losing the battle.
“-let’s not destroy their life before it’s even begun. Please, we- we’re friends, Paimon”-
Paimon let out a chuckle, which turned into a laugh. And he threw his head back in a burst of raucous amusement, causing Lyrem to silence himself once again.
“You think we are friends?”
Lyrem swallowed and regarded him seriously. “Well, yes. That is what we agreed”-
“You,” Paimon pointed at him, then poked him forcefully in the sternum, “are MY friend. That is what we agreed. I gave you Maria, and in exchange you agreed to be my friend. MINE. I am not and never have been your friend, Lyrem. Everything I did for you since then was out of the goodness of my heart.”
Paimon shot a quick glance to Arch who was still frozen in place, watching the spectacle unfold.
“Charitable, aren’t I?”
Arch nodded. Lyrem looked away from them in shame, thinking on the spot, and gripped the jeweled knife that he had pulled from Arthur.
“Cwsg sy”-
Lyrem collapsed to the floor before he could finish the sleeping spell on Paimon. He didn’t exactly expect it to work, but it was worth a shot. The knife clattered to the ground, as though returning itself to its rightful owner.
Arch didn’t pay attention and instead found themself at his side, wanting to support Lyrem’s head from the harsh ground as he landed. Paimon ushered them away before they could get a good look at the damage.
“I’m surprised by his stupidity. I taught that sleeping spell to the Fae myself hundreds of years ago,” he said, tutting. He glanced to Arch, whose knees raised to their chin. “And you, sweet thing, should get up off that dirty floor. It’s not where you belong.”
“Paimon, please don’t hurt him,” they begged, hardly hearing what he had just said.
He sighed out of frustration. “Stand up.”
They stood.
He snapped his fingers, and Lyrem’s soul/body vanished. “I’ve hurt him plenty already, I think. Now, from you,” he ran his long fingers through their soft hair, “I would appreciate just a little co-operation.”
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