The Forbidden

Xaryus smiled gently, holding Artemis in his warm, strong embrace for a while before before letting her go. He took the Nuxvarian woman by her broad shoulders and looked her dead in those ember eyes of hers, grinning softly. “Now… before the humans get back…” He looked around the kitchen and then out the door towards the living room, curiosity striking his mind.

Really, what a strange world they had landed in. These humans were at a great loss without the likes of magic but he had to say; their lack of knowledge in these fields challenged their innovative intellect. Back in Nuxvar, the people didn’t care much to invent things of great imaginative standards, because they had such a prominent power to do the work for them.

“How about we look around a bit?” Xaryus let go of Artemis and walked to the kitchen door, opening it. He figured it would be a good time killer and the fact that this structure seemed so big did wonders for his imagination.

“After you, milady.”

***

Nixon’s hand wavered mid-air, as his gaze followed the man whom he had just spoken to. What the hell was this? He didn’t expect to be ignored so easily, especially not in this situation. Nixon stepped forward silently, dropping his camera to his chest and watching the stranger hobble away. He seemed to be limping, like something bothered his leg.

“W-wait…” Nixon’s arm went limp to his side but he wouldn’t let off so easily. After all, he still wanted his coat.

Tiptoeing forward, he noticed discreet drops of blood along the man’s trail. They were dark, heavy splotches of red… and his heart began to thump a little harder at the sight. What exactly was he dealing with here? A man who seemed to be wounded? Looking ahead, Nixon noticed the man disappear behind a corner. He tread forward carefully, turning around the same building and watching the figure limp down a dark alleyway path.

Abandoned buildings came into sight, barren and breaking and by God, nearly collapsing. But surprisingly they held strong. Nixon hid behind several garbage cans when suspecting that the man would stop and look behind his frame in suspicion, not wanting to get caught. He felt determined to figure out whatever the hell was going on. He covered his mouth when the mysterious man who was still profusely bleeding finally had reached his destination.

He wrenched the door open and hobbled inside, and Nixon being as sneaky as he was ducked out from behind the trash can and slipped inside the door before it could slide closed. He panted lightly but not loud enough to be heard, sneaking behind a couple large rotting wooden boxes while still watching the man. He struggled, though; for it was dark and the only light entering the building were slivers of moonlight through the broken windows. Nixon squinted to see the man ahead, and while not getting a good angle, began to slowly move in his crouched position.

He placed his hands on the box to keep his balance, slowly putting one foot after the other to get to another side. But, curse his clumsiness; his foot bumped a stray beer bottle and the empty glass rolled out from behind the box, making a sharp noise as it collided with the nearby concrete wall.

Nixon winced, scooting back behind the box to avoid being seen immediately. Shit, it was all over.

Look around…?” She murmured. Glancing about in the kitchen, her eyes trailed back to Xaryus only to see him grinning at her and opening the door for her. She laughed softly at her silly friend before saying, “I’m sure Sol and Erik won’t mind.” She walked past Xaryus, thanking him before sweeping her gaze about the living room.

***

Zarcanith was about to unravel his sleeve to heal the gash, when a sharp noise made him halt dead. He whirled, every muscle tensed. He looked at the glass bottle that rested against the concrete wall in alert. Energy surged forth to his visionaries, giving them an unnatural glow. His eyes trailed around the dark room, landing on an old and rotting box. He could see an outline of a human, crouching. He blinked his eyes, ridding them of the glow and he could no longer see through solid matter.
His lips curled into snarl.

“Show yourself,” he growled.

Show yourself.

Nixon cursed under his breath at hearing the man’s voice; it was deep, but at a balanced pitch, and somewhat harsh. A growling undertone could be heard if you replayed it in your head, and by the way it sounded the man didn’t seem to be very happy with uncovering the fact that Nixon had followed him all the way here.

Clutching the wooden box a little tighter from the nervousness he felt within his gut, Nixon licked his lips and hesitantly stood, walking out from behind the crate. The man came into sight, and now that he had been closer the vibes given off were so much more different. His eyes were breathtaking; a vibrant shade of blue. They were cold, though; their gaze so hollow and empty. They were visible through the darkness despite the considerable amounts of shade that draped itself over his face and body. By the way he stood, it appeared he wanted to give off the impression of being frightening, or tough. He appeared neither to Nixon, but his face definitely revealed he seemed to be a very uptight person. Nixon stared for a moment, mostly from being speechless…

Blood dripped down from a wound that had taken residence in the man’s arm, and against his dark cargo pants a stain of blood formed. What exactly had happened to him…? Stuttering slightly, Nixon anxiously fondled with the camera draped around his neck, unable to break his hazel gaze from the intense one across the room. “I… I don’t know who you are, but..”

He looked around and scratched at his head, muttering an ‘uh’ before looking back at the man he seemed to have intruded on. He didn’t feel bad about that, the man seemed to have needed medical attention soon. Nixon wasn’t even sure what was wrong with him, and he didn’t know how this man seemed not show the pain in his broad expressions. It must have been the adrenaline.

“...but what are you doing here? I know it’s none of my business, but… I’m curious.”


***

“Yes, look around,” Xaryus walked out after Artemis had made her way into the living room and put his hands to his hips before peering around himself. “I had remembered seeing a doorway somewhere around…” He didn’t finish his sentence and wandered away, walking to the staircase that led to the second floor. “...here.”

Opening the door, Xaryus looked down the into the darkness. “It appears there is a stairwell… do those two actually go down here?” Suddenly, his already large brown eyes went wide. “Remember that old sorcerer we had encountered once on an expedition into the territory near the palace? He kept a dragon in a place like this!”

Xaryus let go of the doorknob and slightly backed away, “I swear, it took us awhile to slay it…”

Artemis tilted her head. “Of course I remember…” she raised an eyebrow, “are you implying that the humans are keeping a dragon?”

She walked to Xaryus’ side and stopped in front of door that had a stairwell descending to a room. It was too dark to see what was residing in there.

She chuckled nervously. “T-they can’t possibly possess a dragon—right?”

Her toes brushed the first step of the stairwell as she cautiously strode forth and halted at the second step of the staircase, the groans and squeak did not surprise her, but it was immediate and loud.

Should I go down there?

***

Zarcanith narrowed at the man before him, as he slowly stepped out behind the box and moonlight spilled to his frame, where Zarcanith could see him clearly. He locked gazes with wary hazel eyes.

His alertness has spiked; clearly showing on his physiognomy. Zarcanith had remained immobile, his vision still fixated on the human.

His eyes narrowed at his question, before growling, “I live here.”

It hit him quite hard, he didn’t actually think that would be his answer. Nixon gasped lightly, continuing to unconsciously play with the camera strap around his neck. “Oh… you live here? But…” He looked around, however keeping his guard up. “... the place is in awful conditions…”

Nixon huffed a little, a puff of frost appearing at his sudden warm breath in the cold atmosphere. “And your wounds.” He looked at the man and shuffled his feet a little, wanting to put his first aid skills to use. He needed to learn them for his field of work; since often he would be photographing sometimes graphic scenes for the newspaper. “I see that you’re hurt… at this rate, they might get infected or something…” Nixon cleared his throat and took a tiny step forward, eyes wide with anxiety. “What happened...?”

What the hell am I doing?

He asked himself, genuinely curious of the situation. Here was a man he didn’t know, not in the slightest; merely a stranger. He was hurt, the circumstances unknown. Was he mugged? Did he get into a complication with someone and did it turn physical? Whatever it was, he seemed hurt and unwilling to accept help for it, judging by the look in his eyes and stiffness of his body. But what kind of person would Nixon be if he didn’t at least try?


***

Standing there thunderstruck, Xaryus watched Artemis wander down the first step of the stairs into the dark area. His heart started to beat a little faster, but seeing as how he must’ve been acting extremely cowardly at this moment, he suddenly shook his mind free from hesitation and walked forwards, stopping right behind Artemis.

What kind of soldier would he be if he didn’t aid his Queen?

Xaryus wove his right hand sharply through the air, his rapier sword appearing from a cloud of silver smoke and into his grip. He looked down into the basement, and narrowed his eyes. “If there are any threats down there, I am ready for it!”

“Shhh,” Artemis cast a glance behind her, hovering her index finger to her lips. “If there is a threat, we attack with the element of surprise.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at Xaryus as she turned her attention back to the descending stairs.

Seeing as it was too dark to see where she put her feet at, she cupped her hands together and created a small, ball of light that emitted a dim light. Letting the ball of light go, it gently wove among the air and illuminated their pathway.

She proceeded down the stairs cautiously and finally, they entered a room. Her brows knitting together, she felt no presence within the room.

Allowed the light to flare; no longer dim as it illumed the room, there was no dragon in sight.

Couches that looked comfortable to the touch, a soft mauve under figure, a design like veining; a batik, they were set up in front of a plasma screen that hung up on the wall like a welcomed mirror. Over to the side, thick mahogany legs of a table were rooted to the floor, deep green cloth glows over like silk. Many-hued spheres wait patiently in the center, with cue chalk dangling delicately by well-worn pockets, adjacent to the table are lacquered sticks. Beige carpet floors are bound to the ground, soft to the touch.

“There’s no dragon in here.”

***

Zarcanith was about to tell the human to begone from his sight, but he held his tongue. Perhaps, he could take advantage of him… A smirk had graced his lips, but it was gone as fast as it came.

“I…” Faking a pained face, he muttered, “I made a deal with them, those lowlifes did not keep their word, ran off with my money and shot me.”

He groaned, clutching his arm where the bullet had nicked his bicep. His palm was coated with his blood and he looked at the man before him desperately. “I… I need help.”

Seeing the blood’s appearance blared bright red warning signs in Nixon’s mind. His hazel eyes widened in sudden alertness and he took a careful step forward, vision fixed on the man’s hand coated in crimson. “Okay… we should get you back to my house, then…” Nixon looked around and took the man’s hand as if handling broken glass and wiped off the blood with a spare handkerchief. He tossed the soiled fabric away and opened the building door that squeaked loudly on its hinges, waiting for the man he had recently met to walk out of the doorway and into the frigid streets.

Hopefully he hasn’t lost too much blood yet… He thought with deep concern, a heavy gust of wind sweeping thick strands of orange into his face. He could feel the winter air being just cold enough to nearly freeze the freckles off of his sensitive cheeks, but thankfully the original temperatures had risen.

“My place is just a few blocks from here… there I’ll be able to fix you up. And also.... I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Nixon.”


***

Xaryus quieted down and followed Artemis down the stairs with his rapier in hand, holding it out cautiously. He meticulously took his steps down each step and waited for his queen to get her light magic in check, enough so that they would be able to see the room with their own two eyes.

Upon inspecting their surroundings, the arm holding his sword dropped to his side and Xaryus sighed in some relief. “Yes. So there isn’t.” Walking around a bit, the Nuxvarian touched his hand to the soft suede of the sofas and felt frightened at an even bigger black square… or rather,
“television” than before sitting at a center of the room. It seemed to be stuck to the wall, unlike the other; and its menacing reflective screen mimicked every move he and Artemis made.

Cringing subtly at the thought, Xaryus circled a couple of the couches and hummed. “Strange… a place like this back home would be fashioned into a cellar. But the humans have instead used this valuable space for… luxuries?”

For a moment, Xaryus’ mind bought him back to the time spent in his home, in Nuxvar… as a young boy. He had remembered running around out in the fields and trampling the growing wheat, and then being given a spanking by his mother.

Xaryus chuckled softly to himself.

Their mother had been so furious that day, for they weren’t exactly wealthy and she had used the last of their seeds from that week’s supply. He remembered Zarcanith, watching out of a corner with a distressed expression on his face; for he had experienced the palm of his mother when he was young as well…
The older boy would grimace, and then flip his once neat, silky black hair and leave the house, waiting for a weeping Xaryus to emerge so that he could take him on a walk through town. They were well known in their parts and it was difficult not to have a good time when circling through the market.

They’d be pulled over, spoken to, and even given free food. The peasant life wasn’t all that bad, Xaryus tried to tell himself. He had plenty of poor friends, for in those parts money seemed scarce for everyone… it never phased Zarcanith, at least it didn’t seem like it. He would always laugh off things like those, or brush away the topic. Was he trying to cope without complaining? Or, was he just trying to set a good example for his little brother and act… mature?

Xaryus would never know, for his brother was corrupted and his reasoning was dragged down to the deepest depths of hell. He hadn’t seen his own blood sibling in more than four years now, but the thought didn’t worry Xaryus in the least. It was somewhat.. bitter, when all of those good memories came to mind.

They were old now. Stained. And he knew he would never have a good memory again…

Xaryus looked up at Artemis with a sharp gasp, realizing he had been staring at the floor.


***

“I hope we’re almost there. My boner came back."

Sol’s head whipped towards his lover and he glanced at Erik’s bulge with shock. “You little shit… we had sex less than an hour ago.” He laughed quietly and looked back at the road, feeling his cheeks grow hot with blush. It was always flattering him when he thought about how much Erik craved his body. “Fine…”

He took one hand off of the steering wheel and placed it on Erik’s crotch, squeezing it hard. It wouldn’t hurt to relieve his lover now, even though he had to make sure he wouldn’t get hard as well.

That wouldn’t end with getting home faster.

Eyes widening, Erik bit down on his lip until he tasted the metal flavor of blood on his tongue, realizing Sol was being the skilled bastard he was, driving with one hand and using the other to jack off his lover. That little shit. As his ears and cheeks burned, Erik realized his bare dick was being squeezed and rubbed and he moaned quietly, overlapping his hand over Sol’s to match his speed and rhythm.

Sol watched Erik throw his head back and smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. This wasn’t the first time he’s done this and now he’s glad, simply because he could never get enough of the sight of a horny Erik. “Don’t come so easily, I can already feel you pulsing in my hand.”

He grinned at Erik’s onslaught of curses directed towards no one in particular, as he quickened the pace that his hand touched his lover. Precum dribbed into Sol’s palm and he squeezed the shaft of Erik’s dick hard, hoping to break his lover’s will and bring him to his orgasm sooner.

Zarcanith dragged his feet, limping as he strode side by side with the man he introduced himself as Nixon. A silence dragged out for a moment before he parted his lips to cease the silence between the two males.

“…Zarcanith,” he revealed his name. “I’m Zarcanith.”

***

Artemis gave Xaryus a curious look as he casted his eyes at the ground and had nearly stood there for moments on end. While her visionaries were pinned to the male, she came to realization that he had been thinking about his kin again. She heard an audible gasp from Xaryus and locked her eyes with hers.

Her eyes tore away from Xaryus. Closing her eyes briefly and the reopening them again, she looked back to the staircase.

“They will be returning soon. Let us go back upstairs, we wouldn’t want them to know we’re snooping, now would we?” She smiled at him, but the graced smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

…There.

“Happy?”

A devilish smirk, and a slight glance.

Erik sighed in content after his manhood was tucked away and leaned back into the car seat. Jeez, to think he had this much stress pent up… It was almost completely gone by now, anyways.
“Thanks babe..” He leaned over and pressed his lips against Sol’s neck with unhurried movements, biting the soft flesh. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t keep his hands or mouth to himself.

Sol smiled, amused at how mushy his lover always got after he spilled a load. He turned his head a bit while still keeping his cerulean eyes on the almost empty road road, kissing the side of Erik’s head lovingly. They had both agreed on choosing a house near a road with not much traffic, even in rush hour. Sol needed the peace for writing and brainstorming, and Erik needed it just as much to focus on his music. Such creative lifestyles required tranquility.

“We’re almost there, aren’t we?” Erik asked, turning his attention to the road and their nearing property down the block. It was the largest one and so easily noticeable… they were warned ahead of time that it was probably somewhat dangerous to buy the most expensive house in the neighborhood. But, they liked it and it was affordable, so they saw no harm in spoiling themselves a little. Besides, it seemed like very good people lived there anyways.

Erik had remembered the first week they were moved in; a wonderful young woman with light brown skin had greeted them; wearing such a bright and frilly spring dress. Her makeup, neat and freshly made; her hair, styled into a fitting afro ebony in color. She held a plate of decorated brownies and offered it to her new neighbors; engaging in quite the conversation. It was probably the warmest welcome Sol and Erik had ever received.

He laughed at this thought, snapping off his seatbelt as the house approached.


***

Xaryus nodded his understanding, plastering on his own smile. It didn’t reflect one of happiness, but anticipating dread and nervousness… He followed his queen up the stairs without another word, determined not to let even a speck of weakness show.

When the young man had become a soldier, he swore on the flag of their country, He would protect her at all costs. She was missing then, and Nuxvar had fallen into chaos. Knowing Artemis from a young age, Xaryus was naturally worried and uneasy of the situation the great Greek Kingdom had been faced with.

But now that she was here, alive and breathing, and assured him that the both of them would return to Nuxvar safe, he swore to himself that would be the last he’d worry ever again.

If only… Xaryus could see beyond what he knew.


***

“Zarcanith, huh? Hmmm…” Nixon looked ahead for a moment and pondered this name, finding it strange and exciting all the same. Was this stranger using some sort of alias? His name couldn’t have possibly been Zarcanith… right? In this case, should Nixon had given a false name as well?

What would be the point, considering this man would be under his care for a couple days? He saw no sense in it.

Brushing these silly thoughts away from his mind, Nixon watched out for his lone house on the block and stepped up the stairs, rummaging through his pocket for the desired object. Looking back at Zarcanith once, Nixon pushed the key into the hole and turned it, nudging the door open.

“Here it is.”

He dropped his key into his coat pocket and stepped inside once Zarcanith had, shutting the front door as well.

He spun around, nudging his shoes and jacket off. “Leave your boots on this rug, please,” With a sweet smile, Nixon slowly pulled his Zarcanith’s coat off and folded it. “I’ll put this into laundry. For now, let me lead you to the bathroom so I could look at your wounds…”

After going upstairs, Artemis sat on the couch with all the grace of a sack of wet cement. Her body conformed to the shape of the suede sofa. Her face slacken and sink as she let out a sigh. The corners of her mouth tugged downward as her mind wandered to her father.

If her father had not executed Zarcanith’s father; none of this would be happening. Zarcanith and Xaryus would be happily living together with their kin. Nuxvar wouldn’t have fallen into the hands of corruption. If only… she had been more careful in covering her tracks of sneaking in and out of the castle. If only she had broken all ties with Zarcanith just to keep him and his family away from harm. She risked everything just to see her dear friend.

“Ανόητος…” she muttered inaudibly. But it was all her fault this was happening.
(Translation: Fool…)

Her figure slouched in the couch. Occasionally, she would catch herself doing it and straighten up, pushing her shoulders backwards and spine of her back upwards and in, sitting taller, more erect. Her eyes were fixated to the ground, glazed over with remnants of absent-mindedness.

***

Zarcanith let out a shuddered sigh. At last, they had finally left the cold and into his abode. Zarcanith allowed the man to take his coat, and he removed his boots. He followed the male to the lavatory in order to get his wounds fixed. He could feel the blood oozing out of his bullet wound with each stride, his face contouring into a wince. With Nixon’s back facing him, the corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk, replacing the grimace.

Perfect.

Xaryus had come up the last step right as Artemis collapsed onto the couch, and he exclaimed when she did so.

“...! My Queen…?” He circled around the couch with a curious gaze in those boyish eyes, looking over his majesty in slight shock and confusion. He saw all proper posture leave her body and her eyes dim. Never before had Artemis seemed so defeated in his eyes… even earlier, when she had cried in his arms, her body was stiff and she held back the majority of her emotions.

Xaryus trailed to the couch and though she had sprawled herself out quite unladylike… settled himself down on the cushion besides her. “You’re having thoughts of doubt once more, aren’t you?” He glanced over at his Nuxvarian friend and laughed quietly.

“...don’t we all. Being the hero of the story isn’t easy…” Xaryus cast his vision down at the floor for a moment before lifting it. They seemed pretty beat, it wasn’t hard to see… but at least with the help of these humans they weren’t at a total loss.

But.. who’s to say his brother didn’t have the help of a human, either? The man never really was good at conversing with others and being social… especially after the murder of their father… but his however comely features could have fooled someone… Xaryus put a finger to his chin, when the front door suddenly flew open.

He looked to his right, where Sol and Erik emerged.

“Hey guys,” They both greeted almost simultaneously.

“Sorry we took so long, Sol got carried away…” Erik smiled evilly as he was given death glares from his lover, he could feel them piercing the back of his head and chuckled a little at this. “But anyways, we-”

“-got your clothes!” Sol rushed forward with four bags, two for each Artemis and Xaryus. He smiled contagiously, nearly sparkling. His black pink streaked hair shook as he ran forward with the bags, looking through them and holding them up to his guests. “Why don’t you go ahead and change now? I wanna see how you two look in American clothing.” He grinned and ignored Erik’s head shaking at the corner of the room.


***

Nixon opened the door to his bathroom and walked inside, standing off in the middle of the room. It wasn’t very small and not very large; just big enough for a couple. “Go ahead and sit on the edge of the tub.” He grabbed the first aid kit he kept in a small glass box at the corner of the bathroom, returning to Zarcanith after the man had followed his instructions. Sitting on a stool, he proceed with the treatment.

“Alright…” With a sigh, Nixon zipped open the bag and pulled out a sharp pair of scissors, Cutting open the bloody part of the sleeve of Zarcanith’s shirt, revealing his gunshot wound. Nixon’s beautiful hazel eyes widened slightly, but his surprise quickly died. “Damn, and here I thought it was just a stab wound.”

The scissors were placed in a tray and small tweezers were picked out the bag, with slightly pointed tips for pulling objects out of flesh. “This will hurt a bit.” He removed the bullet from Zarcanith’s arm, wiping away the blood that leaked out as a result. Alcohol was dabbed onto the wound until it became thoroughly cleaned; and finally, crisp white bandages were wrapped around Zarcanith’s bicep to protect it from infection.

“That’s done.” Nixon smiled gently and picked the scissors up once more, cutting open a small section of the man’s pants thigh section, so that he may reach the second wound. “I don’t understand why someone would do this another person… really…” He spoke softly and handled his patient carefully. “You’ve very quiet… does it still hurt as much as it did?”

She had snapped out of her dreaded thoughts only to meet Sol and Erik bursting through the doors. A smile had adorned her face, ridding the frown that once graced her lips. “Welcome back. Sol, Erik,” she nodded to the two males.

Sol excitedly handed her the bag, gesturing her to go upstairs and change into the clothes that they had brought her. She chuckled slightly at the man’s enthusiasm as she peered into the bag which contained neatly folded garbs, presuming to be hers.

She was grateful for Sol and Erik’s help. If they hadn’t had found her she’d most likely be dead.

Once she was upstairs, in her bedroom, she began to take out the contents that reside inside of the bag. Laying out the clothing over her bed; she scanned each article of clothing. They had brought her a dark grey, long sleeved shirt with a high, closefitting, turned-over collar on the garment—its fabric soft as it is made of wool or of similar fibers. Her eyes trailed to rather thin trousers with dark, sturdy twilled fabrics of denim. And lastly, a maroon colored coat that had seemed it would reach above the knees, and plastic buttons—dark in color—that adorned the opening and would allow it to be fastened by being pushed through the silt.

She stripped off her chiton, neatly folding it and tossing it on her slovenly bed. She donned the trousers first. The tightly woven fabric hugged her legs firmly, allowing it to reveal every curve on her legs. Humans actually wore these? It was awkward and uncomfortable; however she took it as it would keep away the cold from grazing her legs. Next, she put on the long sleeved shirt, it was loose on her frame and the sleeves warmed her arms. Lastly, she wove on the maroon coat, and indeed, it reached just above her knees.

She glanced at herself on the mirror, raising an eyebrow. She almost didn’t recognize herself. She most definitely appeared to look like a human. She put a finger on her bottom lip. These human clothes can most certainly help her. Warm clothing to prevent her from getting cold without using up her energy. Looking like a mortal could prevent suspicion as well.

She nodded to herself, and went descended downstairs to show a very eager Sol.

***

Zarcanith clenched his teeth as searing fiery bursts pulsated around the wound, intensifying with each dragging moments, jarring and brutal. When he plunged the metal contraptions into his flesh to remove the bullet embedded in his body, the pain amplified and his muscles quivered. Sweat dappled his body as he held back the urge to groan and wither away in pain, but he kept his composure. He let out a sigh when both bullets were removed. Colorless volatile liquid was applied to the aftermath and bandages were enclosed. Zarcanith braced himself for the bullet on his thigh to be removed.

His eyes flickered to the man, carefully handling his equipment. “No,” he curtly answered.

Cocking his head, Nixon peered up at Zarcanith for a second. “Such a frown. Those guys most have really put you in a bad mood…” He returned his attention to the wound and picked up the tweezers once more, carefully maneuvering them through the open, bloody flesh and hunting the bullet fragments.

With careful pulls, Nixon removed each scrap of metal and finally cleaned off the second wound, doing the same as he did with Zarcanith’s bicep and wrapping it in crisp white bandages.

“That should do it.”

He sterilized the first aid equipment and put them away, safely packing it into the glass cabinet he usually kept it in. Glad that at least the basic maneuvers were out of the way, Nixon grabbed a medium sized sponge, bright yellow in color. He had only one or two, stored away for emergencies.

Picking up a roll of plastic, he hummed in content and turned back to Zarcanith. The man was very quiet… with two bullet wounds, how was he not complaining about the pain? It was somewhat strange… the average man would be begging for painkillers at this moment. Bending down a bit, Nixon thoroughly wrapped Zarcanith’s freshly applied bandages in waterproof plastic.

“Time for a bath!” He smiled sweetly and stepped nearer to the tub to turn the temperature knobs and filled it with warm water. As it rose, he poured in vanilla- smelling bath soap and ran his hand through the white bubbles that seemed to form on top. “There.I suppose you want to clean yourself, and I can’t possibly let a wounded man do all that by himself… your arm must hurt like a bitch.”

Nixon stood, and clapped his hands together twice. “Strip down and get into the bathtub. In the meantime I’ll get you something you can sleep in.” He smiled innocently, revealing the dimple in his right cheek, and walked out of the bathroom, shutting it behind him with a soft thud.

His footfalls descended down the hall as he went off to his bedroom to pick out clothes for the man whom he decided to help.

“Well…. He appears to be really close to my size, if not exactly… if it weren’t for his fucking brawn,” Nixon cursed and grabbed out a plain white t-shirt and black pajama pants. “Still, though… I honestly don’t understand how he is able to contain that kind of pain… He was shot twice, how do I know they also didn’t beat him up or something...”

Sighing and running a hand through his orange reddish hair, the young man folded up the clothes and also pulled a towel from his wardrobe.


***
All Xaryus heard was a squeal that seemed like Sol’s voice (though it was very high-pitched) and felt something falling on his arms as he was being pushed up the oak stairs.

“You too! Xaryus, go try those on.”

***

“How in the name of hell am I supposed to…” Xaryus had finished dressing himself in the comfortable wool sweater; he liked heavy clothing and had grown accustomed to them over the years. But, as he pulled on the jeans which fit perfectly and hooked the silver button closed… he found himself adjusting his package for a minute or so.

Thank the Gods that there had been extra fabric around the front area of a male human’s pants, or else he’d be done for.

“It fits well like this…” Huffing in annoyance, Xaryus took a small glance at the large, body-sized mirror at the front of the room. He could make out his entire frame within it… and was quite pleased with what he saw. The slender shapes of his legs were a lot more visible, judging how the pants wrapped around them and was kept in place firmly. A tad uneasy for someone who had gone by in life wearing incredibly loose clothing articles; but however tolerable. Besides, he would just have to get used to it. With these human clothes, there would be no need to dispense energy to keep his body warm.

“I guess it’s fine… Hmm.” Pulling on the gray coat that hugged his sweater-clad figure well, Xaryus fixed the collar and opened the door to his room, walking out and going down the stairs. Artemis seemed to be exiting just as he did, and he flashed a crooked grin at her. “You look beautiful, My Queen.”

***

Sol let the Nuxvarians depart to their rooms and hummed his approval, turning back to Erik, who watched him with a small smile. “You’re so cute when you try to act like you aren’t excited.” Clutching Erik’s collar, Sol pulled him down just enough to be able to kiss his sinful lips and delicately brushed his tongue against the flesh. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Erik smiled again, kissing the top of his lover’s head. “Of course. I love you too.” Swiping a couple black and pink strands out of Sol’s adorable face, Erik kissed his nose and looked up at Artemis and Xaryus who seemed to be coming down the stairs. “That was fas…. Whoa WHOA!” Without another thought, Erik quickly spun Sol around to show him their guests in the clothes they had bought a hour ago.

“Likewise, Xaryus.” She smirked, before pinching one of Xaryus’ cheeks in a teasing manner.

“There is no need to be so formal, though,” she says, chuckling. Her status as Queen means nothing here—in a completely different dimension where no one gives a rat’s ass about who she is or her ranking.

Smiling humorously, she turned to face Sol and Erik.

***

Zarcanith sighed indistinctly when the last of the bullet fragments were pulled out of his system. He did not reply to Nixon; merely narrowing his eyes. He looked at the bandages with a satisfied smirk; the human sure did a nice job of fixing him up.

His smirk faded away when he applied plastic over his bandages, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked up at Nixon.

When the man had mentioned a bath and begin to fill the tub with warm water and poured the substance used for washing and cleaning that gave off a fragrant scent of vanilla, Zarcanith’s face gave off to a frown. And when the male told him that he would clean him, he opened his mouth to protest.

But before he could deny taking a bath, Nixon had told him to strip and settle down on the tub and left the bathroom to retrieve clothes for him. Zarcanith presumed that there would be no way that he could get out of this situation and so he let out a groan and glared at door where he departed at.

Zarcanith began to remove his bloodied shirt and his pants, leaving him completely buck naked. He warily got in the tub, and slid down onto the water until his lower torso and legs were completely in the tub’s depth. He shivered when making contact in the warm water but relaxed his tensed muscles. Bubbles foamed at the water’s surface and he glared down at them whilst crossing his arms and grumbling.

He needn’t a bath, he could just snap his fingers and he’d be refreshed. However… speaking of magic he wasn’t planning to tell Nixon about magic.

With wide blue eyes, Sol gasped a bit to express the shock that he felt at that moment.

The Nuxvarian woman was beautiful, sure she was before, but now in clothes that he could understand, that number seemed to be tripled. And Xaryus, damn. He knew the other probably had a nice physique under all that loose, lifeless clothing, but wearing skinny jeans and a form-fitting sweater really did a good job of proving it.

Taking careful steps on the balls of his feet that Erik couldn't help but laugh at, Sol made his way to Artemis and Xaryus while grinning widely, baring his paper white teeth. “The both of you look stunning. At least, like this you’ll blend in.”

Eric took a couple steps forward, too, out of the shadows of observation and silence. It was obvious he was a very calm, reserved person; and didn’t speak more than he needed. “Sol’s right.” As he continued walking forward, his left foot only covered with dark blue socks landed heavy on something wrapped in a plastic bag.

“Fuck,” He cursed heavily, stepping off of it and picking it up with a scowl upon his comely features. “Oh… this is that artifact. Sol, weren’t we going to take care of this?” He looked up at his lover with curious blue eyes, juggling the heavy, engraved handle. They had plans to bring it to their friend in hopes that with his vast knowledge he could examine the mysterious object; but that was all forgotten when they found Artemis in the middle of the road. Things got even crazier with Xaryus and the roof freak accident, so there’s no surprise they’d forgotten.

Taken by a bit of surprise at such a sudden question, Sol turned towards his lover while absentmindedly playing with a strand of his pink hair. Quietly, he stared at the handle of which Eric recently hurt his foot on. Its engravings were so well done… seemingly the works of some professional sculptor. “Oh… yeah.. We still need to get that to Nicco.”

If it was anything at all like his many fantasy novels, this object would have to possess some sort of “magical prowess” to be able to appear underneath his back out of thin air.

**

After taking a couple steps down the lit hallway, Nixon walked into his bathroom with a small smile, setting the towel and clothes articles he had brought with him down on the counter with a slight plop! “I’ve gotten everything, so now it’ll be fine to wash you,” Picking up a sponge, Nixon trailed over to Zarcanith, dipping it in the warm, soapy water and massaging it over his back. Such smooth skin… for someone who seemed homeless, that was strange.

“You’re still wearing that awful frown,” Nixon commented, proceeding to rub the sponge full of suds over Zarcanith’s shoulders and around the back of his neck. The man was quiet, too; it was sort of unsettling.

Nixon stopped rubbing the sponge against the tanned, blemishless skin and went around to the side of the tub to look at Zarcanith’s face. “Is something wrong?” He asked with genuine concern, bright hazel eyes staring intently at the man whom he decided to help.

Zarcanith felt as if he was a child, which led his face to contort into a scowl. He stared intently at the concerned male, before turning his head away and crossing his arms. “I do not see why I need this bath,” he grumbled.

***

Artemis seldom smiled a genuine smile these days. With everything happening, who would have the heart to let a smile grace their lips? But Artemis believed that they were starting off well—Sol and Erik were kind enough to bring them articles of clothing, so it does not arouse suspicion among the humans in this world. Though, the thought of the dagger was on her mind, trundling through her brain like a through train with no intention of stopping.

Xaryus goofily struck a pose, a grin adorning his face, “We’ll blend in easily with the humans! Right, My Queen?”

She was about to nod to Xaryus, when her attention pricked at Erik. Her eyes traversed to his hands, and there reside the dagger’s handle. Solid gold and though its embroidered engravings were worn, the handle remained refulgent as ever. The blade was missing below the handle—there was no doubt that this is the Dagger. The handle that she had gripped merely a day ago.

“What—” she rushed over to Erik, breath caught in her trachea, eyes fixated on the handle. “How—where did you find this?”

He thought he had been helping.

But apparently, the man he took in didn’t need it at all. Or was he just being stubborn…? Probably a pride issue, Nixon always seemed to stumble upon men like that no matter what he did. Slowly, his hands ceased to scrub the tawny-colored sponge against Zarcanith’s pale back and his orange eyebrow cocked slightly.

“You didn’t want a bath...? Why didn’t you say so? You weren’t going to hurt my feelings.” He told his patient. Well, that is if taking in a stranger and treating their wounds counts as being a doctor of some sort. Chuckling shortly, Nixon set the sponge aside and walked around the tub, propping his hands at the edges. He peered down at Zarcanith with a twinkle of humor in his olive hazel eyes, and swept some hair behind his ear. “You know, if you weren’t sitting here in this tub looking like that right now I probably would have taken you seriously.”

Laughing, he pushed off the tub with a smile. It would be no fun if he was all sour about it. Pointing, Nixon motioned to a silver rack near the tub. It was a couple of feet off the ground and held two colorful towels.

“Fine. I’ll let you handle your shit. The towel is on the rack right by the tub, it won’t take much to stretch a little and grab it. Your clothes are on the toilet seat, they seem more comfortable to sleep in then those thick ass pants… and your room is the second one down the hall. Just go straight down and you’ll see it.”

Turning, He stuffed his hands in his back pockets and walked out of the doorway, making sure to pull the door shut. Once outside, Nixon sighed. “What a rock…” He mumbled hopelessly, clicking his tongue in slight distaste for his guest’s wishy washy sense of character.

***

Erik stared wide-eyed at Artemis, a little breath catching in his own lungs at the way she rushed up to him with such speed. Her eyes, bright pools of jade with flecks of various other hues were fixated intently on the handle he held in his hand; its engravings shining in the pale light of his home.

“Sol and I… we were laying in bed one day and it just appeared in there with us,” He looked up at her, thin pink lips parted slightly in confusion. “Does this mean something to you?” He asked, gray eyes flickering over to his lover.

Nearby, Sol stood next to Xaryus, watching intently. His powerful blue irises stared the situation down, as he analyzed it best he could… watching it play out before his sight. He had strong feelings in his gut that Artemis and her crazy story had something to do with that object appearing right underneath him in the middle of nowhere. It was a pretty thin line to use to tie them together, but the feeling was there, and he wouldn’t ignore it.

Standing just a couple inches away, Xaryus released the breath in his lungs. If this was really the dagger he’s heard so much about since he was just a small child, then his mind would have exploded. What was it even doing here, in this dimension? With humans? Who could it possibly have any business with in a world without magic? It puzzled him. But with finding a piece of the dagger first, they are at least one step ahead of his brother. That much is true.

Zarcanith watch the man leave the bathroom with his lips parted. With a tsk, he rolled his eyes.

Gods, this man didn’t even ask if he wanted a bath, just clapped his hands together and merrily announced his time for a bath.

But he let the smirk crawl to his face; humans are so naïve, it’s pathetic. All he needed was to find the dagger pieces without worrying about his health—he would be fed and sheltered by this male.

He sat in the tub for a few moments before standing, letting all the drops of water roll off of him and return to the waters of the bath. He reached toward the silver rack, where the towel resided. Grasping it, he dried himself off completely (except for his feet). He removed himself from the tub, and walked over to the clothes, surveying them.

Hmph, he even provided him with clothes. Naïve human.

He donned the clothing on: a white plain shirt and black trousers. Now, he needed to get to his room and devise his plan to retrieve the pieces of the dagger. His dagger.

And once he retrieves the pieces, Nuxvar will be his.

All his.

***

“May I?” She asked. And with Eric’s approval, she gently took the dagger into her own hands, her opalescent eyes scanning over the dagger’s hilt’s beautiful engravings. And immediately when the hilt touched her hand, the outlines and the etchings briefly glowed for a few heartbeats and a shiver rippled through her spine.

“Yes… yes, this is definitely the dagger, no doubt.” Hope glimmered in her eyes as she sharply intakes a breath. Her hope does not die, but confusion clouds it instead. “But why… why exactly would it end up here?”

How strange…

But she was not complaining. She had found the first piece of the dagger…

Her hope is not yet lost.

"Neither of us know, really... we thought you would." Eric said then, gesturing towards the expertly crafted silver. "Is there any reason the dagger would come to our world?" It was really all a strange thought; an unknown artifact, appearing in your home based on some premise of magic, and equally strange people appearing not long after it, claiming they came from the world the dagger had. Imagine that?

Sol turned to Xaryus then, raising a dark eyebrow in thought. It seemed the boy was just as confused as he had been, this much he could see. "What about you? Do you have any ideas?" His blue eyes were still narrowed in acute confusion, he really hoped the brunette might posses some input that could contribute to the puzzling situation. But judging from the way Xaryus looked at him with wide, disquieted eyes, he knew the answer.

Keeping his mouth shut so he didn't stammer, Xaryus shook his head slightly. "Not at all..." He gestured to Artemis' figure nearby, eyes gazing towards the female in adoration. "Artemis, Queen of our kingdom... you see, she knew a lot more about all of this than I did. I, as a soldier, didn't even know the dagger had been real myself... it amounts to what you humans might have understood as a myth, a fairy tale you tell the children at night to scare them into obedience."