The Forbidden

He doesn’t believe us…? Artemis couldn’t deny that she was relieved when he said he wouldn’t throw us out into the blizzard. All she had to do now was to make him believe her. With the help of magic.

Artemis’ orbs trailed down to her once clean and a simple ivory colored chiton that flowed just before her knees and the sleeves came down to her forearms. Now dirt matted the dress and the fabric torn here and there. She studied the purple and black welts scattered around her wrists, where Zarcanith had seized her.

Her eyes trailed to Sol, their gazes locked. Her right hand gently clamped around her bruised wrist on her left. An inaudible incantation left her lips—her opalescent visionaries seemed to glow when she murmured the conjuration. And when she removed her clasped hand from her wrist. Her pale complexion seeped into the discolored wounds, and the bruised lining disappeared; as if they were never there in the first place. This incantation also exiled the grime that lingered on her pale pigmentation.

Now for her dress. Artemis transmitted energy that pulsed through her veins, and her arm seemed to burn when she channeled her magic towards her palm. A golden spark exploded from her palm, and comet-like figures traversed to her torn areas. One of the comets filled a tear in her dress, weaving the fibers that were missing. Another had seeped into the fabric of where the dust and dirt lay and banishing the dress from all filth. When the magic has done their role of restoring her chiton, it disappeared into thin air, making itself one with the earth’s energy.

Once she was done cleaning up, her eyes traveled to Xaryus and then to the ruined ceiling.

Erik stood in the kitchen as he gently leaned against the granite counter, silently staring at his beer.

He turned the cold can around in his slim fingers, biting at his lower lip until he could perceive the faint taste of metal. Blood. Maybe he had been reading too much of Sol’s fantasy books. Perhaps those loud guitar riffs were actually getting through his eardrums and corrupting his brain because, this all seemed really surreal. Like some strange dream that he was bound to wake up from.

Except deep down, Erik felt that somehow, this dream was very real. And that soon it would become nothing short of a nightmare.

Blinking, he sighed deeply, smelling the alcohol on his breath. Jesus Christ, it was doing its job.


***


Cerulean irises widened, watching the once dirty and bedraggled tunic Artemis wore restore. In a snap of the finger! Sol couldn’t help the blank stare he directed towards her, still scanning her clothing for some smudge or wrinkle. Not a spot had been found, and when she proceed to practically banish the dark bruises upon her wrists, his eyes went even wider.

Pink lips parted in shock, probably to say something but it was quickly forgotten when Artemis’ gaze looked to her right. Sol followed her sight and his own eyes landed on Xaryus, whose eyebrows jumped.

“Right,” He mumbled, briefly looking into Artemis’ jade eyes before directing his attention towards the miserable rubble piled at the floor. Xaryus focused; umber eyes lightening to a vibrant shade of hazel. It took some concentration, and eventually a bright orb of amber luminance enveloped the rubble, casting a dazzling firelight across the room. Xaryus lifted his hand which also began to glow a similar color, and the debris lifted as well. The room was silent as he carefully maneuvered the wood with movements of his hand back to the roof, where it began to fuse.

The material restore itself and seemed to join together, smaller pieces of wood filling the cracks and meshing as if the accident never happened. When everything went back to its normal state, Xaryus’ arm slowly lowered back to his side and the red glow vanished from his hand, eyes which were a brief hue of hazel returning to their natural, rich umber.

He looked up at the roof with satisfaction and then back at Sol, whose deep ocean blue eyes were still fixed on the repair. The shock, clearly read in his expression by the way his jaw slightly dropped, amused Xaryus in a way. What world had they come to, if not a world without magic? It surely was something new. How did these people live, without the handy use of majestic powers? He could only imagine.

“...oh…” Sol muttered, backing up just enough so that he could crash ass first into the couch. A hand automatically came up to rub his throbbing temples, worried gaze not meeting green and umber. He covered his mouth with his hand in a temporary addle and cursed foully underneath his breath, before regaining some senses. “Shit… so you two really weren’t lying,” He admitted stupidly, exchanging his stare between Xaryus and Artemis. Obviously now there was no doubt of their explanation, no matter how bizarre it seemed.

After a momentary silence, Sol finally spoke up. “...so how are you guys gonna get back home?”

“After the dagger broke, the pieces all scattered to your dimension. I ask if you could let us stay here until we find all the shards,” Artemis requested. Her iridescent jade orbs focused onto the man before her, hoping he would accept her entreaty.

Quietly, Xaryus stood with his hands tucked into his pockets and waited for the human’s response. He’s heard strange stories of these people since he was but a little boy, naive and unknowing of the world beyond their own. They teleport from place to place but in metal cages; build tall contraptions that effortlessly succumb to the forces of nature. They wage war; but with vessels filled with explosives. Xaryus’ mother used to call them smolders, for they combust but with no fire.

He blinked, returning to reality only when he heard Sol’s voice speak again.

“Well… of course,” Sol said without a care in his voice, scratching the trimmed side of his head. It was just then when Erik came out of the kitchen looking a lot more relaxed, gleaming gray eyes wide with curiosity. He made his way over to Sol who looked at him tiredly, but with a smile nonetheless.

Gradually, Erik scanned Artemis, her Ancient Greek dress now spotless and looking just as new. His eyes traveled to Xaryus, who grinned suspiciously. A dark umber eye winked at Erik and the latter furrowed this auburn eyebrows at this. Was Xaryus flirting with him?

Not thinking so much on that, he decided to look up when there was no longer a cold draft in their home.

There was the roof, fixed and polished. He couldn’t even tell where the hole had been anymore. Erik gasped almost inaudibly and sharply looked over at Sol who shrugged lightly.

“If you guys wish to get some sleep, feel free to crash in the guest bedroom,” Sol informed with a yawn, making sure to give his visitors proper directions to the said area.

Erik, however, was deeply confused. After he quickly bid Xaryus and Artemis a good sleep, he dragged Sol’s sorry ass upstairs to their own bedroom and tugged him inside, shutting the door behind them.
“What was that??” He asked with pure distraught, pressing his back up against the door. “Are we just gonna let strangers whom we can’t even trust into our house like this?” Because really. He could understand Artemis, she was found in the street nearly frozen to death… but Xaryus simply fell through their roof and they STILL hadn’t gotten any information on where he came hurling from. Artemis’ explanation really didn’t sell in Xaryus’ opinion, but somehow they were able to convince his lover. What in the name of hell was going on here?

Blinking quickly, Sol let himself be dragged into the bedroom. He sat down onto the bed and looked up at Erik with wide blue eyes, too tired to be thoroughly concentrated. “Didn’t you see Xaryus fix the roof? And Artemis replenish her clothing like…. like nothing?! It was incredible. Either these people know some really good magic tricks or they really are from where they call Nuxvar.”

Huffing, Erik rubbed his eyelids and groaned audibly. “I didn’t catch it… ugh. Can we please just fucking sleep?” He cursed foully and looked at his lover, who was lazily grinning at him. The longer side of his hair fell over Sol’s face in an alluring way, hiding a dimmed blue eye. They were both pretty exhausted and it showed.

After stripping down to just their boxers, both men climbed into bed and sighed contently at the warm, comfortable, fluffiness of the bed and quilts. “Good night baby…” Sol muttered sleepily, pressing a languid kiss against Erik’s full lips. The faint taste of beer on his breath helped Sol’s own mind relax and loosen after a long day. Gently, they cuddled into each other and fell asleep to the quiet sounds of either man’s breathing.

Relief washed over the ebony-haired female as she watched the men go upstairs. Sol had accepted her request, making her grateful for the human.

Artemis was exhausted, mentally and physically. Her usual expressionless look had gave away to a fatigue and enervating. She just wanted to sleep for moons.

Her eyes pursued Xaryus, gazing at him with a certain fondness. It has been years since they had last seen each other, she didn’t want to put the young male nor herself in danger—she was relieved to find him alive and well.

She was too tired to converse with him. “I am... going to sleep. Goodnight, Xaryus,” she murmured, barely able to articulate her words.

Making her way towards the stairs, she trudged up each board, lifting her feet preternaturally slowly. With laborious steps, she made her way up the stairs, recalling the directions that led her towards the guest bedrooms. She stopped in front of a door. Pivoting the knob, she pushed the door open.

A large bed resided in the room; cream sheets but inlaid with a fine royal blue silk; embroidered with beautiful patterns. Moonlight pooled into the room in paned windows, surrounded by white curtains. The white that is untouched by hands and devoid of dust. A nightstand stood on one side of the bed, a bookshelf containing various books, the walls were an ivory color, and the floor was wood; dipped in a hickory color. A rug blanketed the ground, obscuring most of the hardwood floor. The room looked comfortable.

Upon entering the room, she immediately lumbered towards the bed. She reverently rubbed her fingers along the silken sheets and mattress. She toppled onto the bed, pressing a cheek to the cool pillows. The comforter was thick and irresistibly soft, like a billowing cloud. She was instantly solaced to rest her aching muscles. She crawled under the blanket, enveloped in warmth and darkness.

She soon succumbed to the call of sleep…


***

Zarcanith had docked the ship onto a city he had seen in the distance. Controlling and accelerating the ship had sapped a large amount of his energy. He felt no presence within the area, so he brought down the platform and stepped out of the ship.

A smirk etched in his face when he imagined what the other humans’ reaction would be on the mass genocide on the cargo ship. A low chuckle resonated deep within his throat as he dissolved into the shadows of the dark alleyways.

Sighing with reassurance, Xaryus knew that at least there was some trust in these humans. They were understanding, it seemed; good for both Artemis and himself alike. It would be a lot to ask, but maybe these two would actually help them. Just maybe.

He met the cordial, ebony gaze of his long lost friend and smiled lightly, but warmly. He had known her since he was but a child; all the way up to… until it happened. Would they even talk about it? And when? Certainly not now, since Artemis seemed to be ready to keel over any second.

For a moment Xaryus’ reflex had this arms slightly stretching out in an attempt to catch the woman, her body stilling in exhaustion. He looked at her in worry, noticing the wear in her eyes.

Just what has Artemis been through all this time, and why did she have to fight with his brother because of it? Obviously this dagger had something to do with all of this. He’s heard just stories, of its heavenly-turned-hellish power and exactly what it does to a specific person. There were still a lot of questions unanswered, but he would figure it out sooner or later.

Xaryus watched Artemis amble to the stairs with almost laborious movements and heave each foot up, until she disappeared around the corner. Silently, he took one more look around the house and then went up the stairs himself, each footfall echoing throughout the empty house. He circled the corner and followed the hallway down to the mahogany door at the end. Turning the knob steadily, Xaryus gradually eased the door open and found himself in a comfortably illuminated room, walls painted a standard white. He closed the entrance behind him with an audible click, walking forward a few steps, letting his umber eyes wander curiously. Curtains that shield the windows were colored a bright red and the wooden oak floors glowed with cleanliness. It really was a strange building, architecture like he’s never seen before.

Gazing at the bed, Xaryus noticed its crisp white sheets and plump feather pillows, immediately trailing over. Poking the soft mattress once, his eyebrows shot up and the Nuxvarian kicked off his boots, jumping into the bed. Although not as tired as Artemis could’ve been, Xaryus still could not slumber to the thoughts raging inside of head. They bothered him, like any unsolved mystery would, and the thought of his elder brother hurt him physically.

What was Zarcanith doing right now? If both he and Artemis had both been through the same portal, could it be that he end up in this strange world as well? How would he get back? Xaryus groaned in some pain, not wanting to think of all that right now. It polluted his brain, and the way things were going he would really need the rest.

Closing his eyes, the soft ticking of a device on the far wall lulled the latter to a light sleep.

Emily had felt the ship sway to and fro, for what seems like eons. Her nose has been blocked by the sickening fragrance of blood had shrouded the air—belonging to her boyfriend. She didn’t even want to think about his body rotting away in some corner, all life drained from his eyes.

Her body stiffened when she realized that the ship had stopped moving for quite a while. Would it even be safe to exit the ship? What if that Zarcanith guy was waiting for her to come out of her hiding spot? She recoiled from her thoughts. No, he would have docked the boat and fled, right…?

Cautiously, she heaved herself out of the crate, trying to make little noise as possible. Anxiousness bubbled within her chest when she quietly wove around the crates.

Her breath had caught in her throat when she saw the deceased body of Matthew, a large gash that stretched shoulder to hip. His insides were spilling out and blood had stained the grounds. His head was lolling onto the metal walls, his limbs sprawled out in a strange way. Emily’s look of wary had replaced with shock. There was no doubt that Matthew was dead. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned away from him and headed towards the door. She had no time to be mourning her boyfriend—she needed to get out of here as fast as possible.

She pushed the door open and turned to her right, sprinting down the hallways, weaving around until she got to the stairs, she bolted up to the deck. The stench of metal wafted to her nose as she frantically pushed the door open…

And there… she saw the lifeless bodies of her crew members littering the floors. Her friends’ eyes once danced with light are now vacant and staring. The once natural complexion is waxy and pale, their mouths that were so quick to laugh and smile in life lies stiff and agape. Their limps were twisted up unnaturally into a position no living person could maintain. And if that wasn’t enough, blood sprayed the grounds, smelling like an abattoir.

Emily’s jaw fell ajar as her widened eyes stared down at her crew members. Her eyes tore away from the disgusting sight and fell onto the platform that was lowered onto the deck. Her visionaries narrowed into slits—he must have left the ship.

She stepped off of the cargo ship and gazed at her surroundings. Large buildings that towered over her form, seeming alive with lights. She could hear the faint, incessant honking of cars; the labyrinth of noise, streets, and alleyways. She knew exactly where she was. Where that Zarcanith guy had docked. She was in Long Island.

Snow was falling lightly, settling in her ebony colored hair and dancing in the wintry airs before falling to the ground. She only wore a mere sweater, but the adrenaline that was rushing through her veins were enough to keep her warm.

She knew exactly where to go.

10 years earlier…


There was shouting. Not loud enough to be considered an argument, but rather very heated scolding that was met with harsh ripostes.

Xaryus squat in the garden, creating long, scraggly lines in the dirt with a stick he had severed from his mother’s old fig tree. The child heard the quarreling nearby but decided to ignore it as best he could, despite hearing half of the conversation anyways. With big, umber eyes, he looked up at the wooden house before him, sniffling. It was pretty cold and Xaryus didn’t have much on him, he seldom did anyways. Standing, he rubbed his small pink nose with a forecep and started to break the stick into small pieces to pelt birds with.

Concentrating hard on his branch, the boy looked up just in time to see his elder brother passing by him in a rage.

“Zarry!” Xaryus called after him with the nickname he had given the other, running after Zarcanith as fast he could with his little legs. It didn’t take Xaryus long to reach his destination but when he did, he noticed the barn and stepped inside, cheeks pink and eyelashes crusted with frost. He breathed out a puff of fog, searching the structure for his brother.

There Zarcanith was, sitting on a pile of hay with a kitten in his lap, petting the purring feline softly. It wasn’t the first time Xaryus noticed the other with cats almost all the time, always coming home with a stray and hiding it in the barn, from their mother. Celandine.

Coughing slightly, Xaryus stepped forward and wrapped his small arms around his torso which had been covered in a thick coat of dark wool. It draped around his shoulders and stopped exactly above his knees which were clad in linen pants of a light gray color. “Why were you and momma talking about Artem?” He asked, nicknaming a friend of Zarcanith’s.

She came almost everyday to their small house but for not too long, usually speaking of her father before departing. Usually, her visiting times would be the earliest hours of the morning and the latest hours of the night, expressing her worry for leaving the palace in the afternoon or evening. Xaryus never understood this, neither did he try to. All he knew was that she was good company and extremely nice, secretly bringing him luscious cakes in a red velvet sack. They even tasted royal.

“It isn't of your business, Xaryus,” Zarcanith said softly, gazing at the kitten upon his lap who slowly fell asleep. He looked up at his little brother, deep cobalt irises lined with golden flecks glowing with affection. “Come here,” The older boy said after he put the kitten on the hay and stood, slowly beginning to walk over. He spread his arms and Xaryus met him halfway, snuggling into his chest. It truly was adorable, and that’s why Zarcanith laughed softly and kissed the full head of soft, brown hair before him.

Xaryus hummed in content, nestling closer to his elder brother’s chest. Zarcanith had been extremely warm, with his layered linen clothing and thick animal skin upon his shoulders, so all Xaryus wanted to do was glue himself to the other and get some of the heat for himself.

“Hey… little one,” Zarcanith began with a soft voice, often loving the role of big brother. It gave him a sense of responsibility, besides the fact that he would be drafted for the military soon… and it was an amazing feeling. Xaryus’ small little face looked up at him and those wide brown eyes which seemed nothing like his blinked in curiosity. “You promise not to tell father about Artemis? The really nice girl with ebony hair?”

Xaryus stared up at Zarcanith for a few seconds more before lowering his vision. Despite the warm affection clearly written across the latter’s face, sometimes Zarcanith’s eyes were too intense to hold a solid gaze to. After all, he had taken more of his traits from their father and Xaryus from their mother. “Okay. If you tell me not to tell I won’t tell, Zarry.” Xaryus smiled up at his brother, who kissed his forehead in a silent thanks.


Present Day...


Sun shone heavily against Xaryus’ closed eyelids, causing him to wake up. Opening umber eyes, he sat up with a groan and rubbed his face, looking around the bedroom. So it really had happened. Everything.

...Gods damn it.

Sighing in defeat, Xaryus stood up lazily and eased a curtain open, gazing outside of the window. The snow fell but in light tufts, the chaotic winds and murky sky no longer present. On the contrary, a big orb of yellow and blazing oranges shone high in the sky, rays finding their ways through the glass and illuminating the room. A loud yawn that Xaryus was sure Artemis just two rooms away had heard left his mouth, as he focused on freshening up.

The police cars were parked by the ship with screaming sirens, the cops exiting their vehicle and surrounding the ship. Yellow tape lined the docks, demarcating a crime scene, preventing bystanders from crossing.

Detective Colins’ eyes were nailed onto the ship. He could already smell the rotting bodies from here, the scent of metal swathing the air in a foul odor. The cops were currently scouting the ship, looking for any other survivors. He was called here, to see if he can latch onto any clues of who could’ve been the murderer.

One of the officers walked up to him; reporting the scene. “Sir, there seems to be about forty people who were killed, there were no survivors within the ship.” He continues, “There was no weapon to be found either.”

Colins narrowed his eyes. Forty people killed? One person could not have possibly have done this… With a curt nod, he ducked under the yellow tape, entering the ship by crossing the platform. His gaze scanned the deck, lifeless corpses strewed the deck. Dried blood tainted the floors and walls, and several corpses were surrounded by officers, examining the bodies.

He made his way over to a dead woman that was sprawled out. Her desolated eyes were turned to the sky, deprived of all life. Kneeling down for a closer inspection, he eyed the large gash that was dragged along her stomach. The cut was very deep, almost detaching the woman in half. The weapon must have been large to almost separate her from her legs. He stood, treading to another corpse. It had a similar wound that delivered it to his death; a laceration across his chest.

Donovan—a police sergeant—trudged up to him. “Got anything?”

He turned to face the female, a grave expression graced his wary face. “Some of the corpses I have inspected had similar wounds: a gash that is deep enough to separate them. The weapon couldn’t have been a mere knife…”

Donovan’s eyes swept through the boat, her face wrinkling in disgust. Who could have done this…? “There was one survivor. Her name is Emily; a twenty year old woman who hid from the killer. She came into the station screaming bloody murder. She can give you the details; she’s currently in the station with a few officers questioning her. Go talk to her.”


Colins nodded, walking to his car to head to the station. He slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine before accelerating the car towards the station…

When the necessary preparations were completed, Xaryus who had been smelling of a wonderful raw vanilla replenished his clothes so that they were once again fresh and seamless. He ran his slender fingers through his soft brown hair and hummed contently at it’s appearance in the mirror, before turning sharply on bare heels and exiting the room.

As he shut the door behind him, a light, airy smell hit his nostrils and the man stopped dead in his tracks. It smelled of boar’s ham, which had Xaryus realizing how hungry he actually was. Clicking the door shut properly, he padded down the stairs and around the corner, sensing the smell get stronger. Quiet chatter could be heard in the kitchen, and the distinct clatters of a cooking pan.

Sol moved the hot pan to the back of the stove, hissing as its warmth nearly seeped through the oven mitten. Yanking the glove off, he yelped slightly as a hand connected with his ass. Erik’s sniveling could be heard behind him and the author shook his head, grinning lightly.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with that,” He responded to the sneering and shook his ass through the loose pants, getting only more squeezes in return. It was what he was looking for, after all. Erik’s grabby hands were still pinching his buttcheeks when Sol heard bare footfalls coming into the kitchen. He turned and smiled at his guest, clicking off the stove. “Xaryus. You came just in time.” He slapped Erik’s hands away from his ass and ignored the whining that followed almost immediately, shushing the latter and telling him to sit down.

The drummer whined when he was forbidden from touching his lover’s delicious arse at the moment. Damn it. They were fully rested and to be honest, all Erik wanted to do was drag Sol to the couch and take him right there. It feels like they haven’t had sex in weeks… but to prevent himself from getting a boner, he thought of something nasty and just focused on being hospitable. The craving eventually died down but sat at the back of his mind, like a caged animal.

Stepping into the kitchen, Xaryus was greeted with Erik fondling Sol’s booty which was honestly very attractive but the amusing sight instantly ended. He was ushered to the kitchen table and seated by Sol, a plate of scrambled eggs delicately drizzled with pepper and salt along with thinly cut bacon strips placed in front of him. The savory odor that oozed from the food nearly killed Xaryus. He took the metal fork given to him and slowly began to eat, grateful to be fed by near strangers. Erik bought him a glass of orange juice and they both sat in the seats directly across his vision, watching him curiously.

“I know it’s pretty early in the morning, but how exactly did you get into our… dimension? You didn’t say,” Sol tried to keep a straight face but when Erik began touching his thigh under the table and pretending he wasn’t, it was really hard. This man really was insatiable. Sol wasn't complaining, he definitely felt horny too… but was determined to get answers from his guests before getting fucked, as tempting as it seemed. He cleared his throat warningly and glared at his lover at the corner of his eyes, but Erik didn’t want to let up, so he tried to ignore the hot touches.

Grinning inwardly, Erik kept his eyes on Xaryus although sneakily he was stroking his lover’s thigh underneath the wood. He felt Sol’s subtle, annoyed glare burning through his skin, but a little touching couldn’t hurt anybody. And besides, it was obscured from their guest. So Erik ignored his warnings and pressed on with the teasing.

Swallowing the food in his mouth, Xaryus looked up at the two humans and then back down at his plate, before returning his gaze to theirs. “...well,” He began, unsure how to summarize the course of events at which bought him to their world. “I was tricked. By a magician. He showed me a picture that was supposedly what I asked for and it was an image of your home. Then… he pushed me into it. Next thing I knew I was crashing through your roof.” Xaryus shrugged lightly, taking another bite of eggs.

Sol hummed in understanding. So they had magicians back in Nuxvar? Strange. At that exact moment, Erik squeezed his thigh exceptionally hard and Sol almost hissed, feeling how it would form a bruise soon. So the drummer wanted to pray dirty, did he? Sol growled underneath his breath, already thinking of all the ways he could torture his lover later for this behavior.

“How’s your friend?” Erik asked suddenly, smiling when Xaryus seemed full. Good, now it would be easier to pry information from him. If they wanted to understand these guys and maybe help them get back to their home, he and Sol required as much details as they could receive. Artemis was still dead asleep up in the bedroom and it was already one in the afternoon.

Xaryus perked, sitting back in the chair.“Artemis…? She was exhausted.. I doubt she’ll be up anytime soon.”

The car deaccelerated to a stop when the station came into view. Colin parked his car and turned off the station, sliding out the driver’s seat. Pushing his door shut, he stuffed his keys in his pocket and made his way towards the doors.

Entering the station, he went up to the receptionist, asking for Emily. Once the receptionist had given Colins directions of where she was currently being held, he descended down a hallway and into the room. One of the officers was with her, questioning the young lady.

The officer looked up. “Detective Colins, I suppose you want to speak with Emily?”

Colins gave a curt nod to the officer, and motioned for him to leave. Once he left, Colins took a seat nearby Emily. “You must be Emily.”

Her gaze lifted to meet Colins’ gaze, and she nodded.

“I’m Detective—”

“Colins, yeah.”

“Tell me what happened, Emily.”

A sigh left her lips as she ran a hand through her black hair. “The cargo ship was originally going to Australia… But we met a man that was in an island and lit a flare to get the ship’s attention. We docked the ship and the man told us that he was stranded. The captain—William Heraldson—let him in with no hesitance. The man’s name was Zarcanith… he looked suspicious.”

Colins absorbed every detail of the story, and motioned her to continue.

“He didn’t look hungry or anything like that. He just looked normal. Marcos, a friend of mine, offered to bring him down to the rooms and give him food. I heard a scream—the whole crew heard it. Jeremy went down to check it out… I-I went into hiding with my boyfriend. We went down to where the extra cargo was held and I hid in one of the crates. But… Matthew didn’t find a place to hide in time and Zarcanith came and… killed him.”


“How do you know it was Zarcanith?”

“Who else would have waltz in and kill him?! He had no enemies or grudges against someone—it was that Zarcanith guy who killed him, I’m sure!”

Colins did not reply.

“After he left the room, I sat in the crates for so long, I lost track of time. I felt the ship stop moving and… I figured that he docked the ship and left. So… I left the crate and went up to the docks. Everyone was slaughtered like animals,” Emily leaned back against the chair, her solemn eyes casted
downwards.

“All right, Emily. Thank you for the information. I will take my leave now.”

“So... how does it… turn on?”

Xaryus was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the couch and gazing upwards towards the flat screen tv that hung on the wall precariously. He was confused and curious, beyond measures. There were many things about this world he couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Turn on? Well… electricity,” Sol said, cocking an eyebrow. He should’ve expected this along with the whole different universe thing, but it was all too surreal to believe. His guest really didn’t know what a television was. Walking over, he decided to enlighten Xaryus and pressed a button at the front of the tv, watching it slowly turn on. Some selling houses show came on and he looked back at the latter, only to see those already large umber eyes widening.

Shocked, Xaryus stood, and like a precautious cat, he tediously stepped towards the tv and stood next to Sol, poking it once. “There are people in there,” He stated obviously and turned to look at Erik who laid on the couch lazily. “Amazing.”

“Yeah.. it is.” Sol laughed and bit his lip as he grabbed the remote from the table to give to an eager Xaryus, slapping Erik’s leg so that he would move it. “You bastard,” He cursed jokingly and sat on the cushion he fought so bravely for. Erik groaned in pain at the searing tingles that came with Sol’s blow and immediately moved his leg, granting the latter what he wanted. But it didn’t matter now, when his lover looked so beautiful in only baggy morning wear.

Grinning, he sat upright and pulled Sol by the sleeve closer to him. “Sol Stryker…. you strike me dead,”

As cheesy as it was, Sol couldn’t help the stupid grin that broke out across his face. “You dumb, dumb lion cub,” He giggled, using Erik’s closeness as an opportunity to steal a kiss from those perfect lips.

Meanwhile, Xaryus had finished flipping through channels on the tv in awe, and stood to visit Artemis’ room. It had been another half hour since breakfast, and now he was getting worried. Traversing his way up the wooden stairs once more, he stopped at the mahogany door right around the corner, where he assumed Artemis was sleeping. Turning the doorknob, the Nuxvarian clicked the door shut behind him once inside and studied the bed.

The window curtains were still drawn and so not much sunlight could be let in, but enough to see. He walked across the room and to the side of the bed, where Artemis’ face was turned.
“Hey…. hey,” He whispered, crouching down to get a better view of her face. She had matured so much since he last saw her… cheekbones were more defined, lips were thicker and pinker… her complexion had lightened, obviously from recent struggles… but that beauty he remembered as a child seemed stronger than ever.

The female stirred and he waited patiently, knowing she would awake soon.

Artemis awoke to soft sheets, and light trickled through the ajar curtains. Her slovenly ebony-colored hair were scattered around and about the pillow and her legs were sprawled out before her under the thick blankets. Her eyes were still shut as she soaked in the warmth of her covers before letting her eyes flutter open.

Her opalescent eyes were glazed over with remnants of dreams as she drowsily swept her gaze along the room, her eyes landing on a figure beside her bed. Blinking a few times, her visionaries focused—not entirely—but she could made out the figure.

“Xaryus…?” She murmured through her parted lips. Her eyes were still heavy and almost succumbed to close them again.


***


Zarcanith had roam the streets at night for a while until he had come across a lone structure. It was left disregarded with no humans near it. The brick was worn and the chalky paint fell in fragments leaving the splintered door a bare tarp. Ivy gnarled its way through the broken windows, tangling its leathery shape throughout the wistful abode.

The amber hinges wined against Zarcanith’s palm as he pushed the door open. Which was once a fine interior was nothing but a scattering of debris buried in filth. The vile odor of damn and rot reached Zarcanith’s nose. The chalky paint fell in fragments, as the undefinable source of darkness draped over the, like a tapestry. The windows that lined the building did not beckon the light inside or life the gloom that the walls impose. Instead they add to the growing sense of damp and dark and permit the wintry winds to penetrate.

Perfect.

This place could keep him sheltered, obscuring him from the visions of humans or anything else.

Erik and Sol decided to kiss some more before watching Xaryus trail up their stairs.

“Oh, shit… Artemis. I forgot to make breakfast for her.” Sol looked towards the lightened kitchen and back to the man whose hips he straddled, ready to step off of the said lap and make more food.

Lazily, Erik licked his lips and savored the last tastes of his lover. “No.. let me. Just sit down.” He motioned Sol to take a seat after the man crawled off of his legs and turned towards the kitchen, going straight to the refrigerator. “Okay…” Erik whispered to himself, quickly beginning to whisk the egg yolks.

***

With a warm, comely smile, Xaryus balanced on the balls of his feet besides Artemis’ legs and planted his hands on his strong thighs. “Your majesty…” He whispered with another smile, observing her hazed over features for another moment before standing. “I reckon I should leave you to prepare yourself. Don’t fall asleep again.” And with that, he sighed and turned around, exiting the room once more and walking down the stairs. Another smell of food hit his nose but since the Nuxvarian had been full, he walked straight to the table and picked up the tv remote.

“You’re really fond of the television, aren’t you?” Sol asked with a lazy smile. He watched Xaryus flip through more channels like a child who has just found candy, carefully clicking the buttons on the remote and surfing various areas of the device. It landed on CNN, the worldwide news channel, and a giant red breaking news header filled the screen.

Surprised, Sol sat up and brushed a long strand of hair from his eyes, focusing on the screen. Erik heard the ruckus and popped his head out of the kitchen door after he finished frying the bacon.

Xaryus put the remote down and stared at the tv, anxiety building in his gut. Footage of yellow police tape at some crowded dock was spread out across the entrance of a ship, obscuring the inside from onlookers. A couple reporters were pushing up against a thick barricade placed to keep citizens away from the scene, but they didn’t want to listen.

“Detective Collins! Detective Collins!” A short brunette woman shouted vehemently as she shoved her microphone into a man’s face. He was blonde and blue-eyed, nothing short of handsome. His face showed no emotion to the woman’s shouts even as he and other police officers were trying to keep the people away. “Is it true that your suspect is still on the loose?! What are your leads? Do you have any?!”

The scene changed, back to the newsroom. A pampered woman showered in expensive jewelry and dressed in a fancy brown frock sat at her desk, organizing a couple pieces of paper while waiting until some unseen signal had been passed to begin talking. “Earlier this morning, a report had gone out that a cargo ship docked at the shore of Long Island, New York, seemed the home of a massive event. We receive more from Dorris Stacy at the scene of the crime.”

The screen changed, to a woman dressed in a thick gray coat and earmuffs. A microphone drifted near her lips, so that she could be heard over the noisy chattering of reporters nearby.

“Thank you, Madison. Here I am at the Harrison’s Dock, where this supposedly Australian cargo ship is moored. An estimated forty people were found decapitated and killed. Detective Collins, the head detective of the case, had gotten a visitor earlier this morning. Her name is Emily Bloom, and she claims that she was a survivor of the massacre. A man by the name of Zarcanith is the prime suspect in his search, but there still has been no solid leads on behalf of the police. The supposed murder weapon derived from an inspection of the wounds was predicted to be a long, sword like object, sharp enough to decapitate limbs on impact.”

Immediately, everything else heard went muffled. Xaryus’ eyes widened, and his irises went blank. Zarcanith’s double bladed spear… Slowly, sounds faded back.

“... here is a drawn portrait of the suspect…” And no joke, a picture that appeared very close to the appearance of his brother was shown.

“ARTEMIS! Come down here!” He called in the direction of the staircase.

Meanwhile, Sol stared at the tv screen in shock and horror, watching the story unfold. Who in the name of hell was this sicko? He was also from Nuxvar according to Artemis, so that would explain his strange weapon. The way things were going, It seemed like it would be all over the air soon.

Artemis felt her eyes close against the dim light, relieving the weight that was upon them after Xaryus had left. She paid no heed to his words as she felt herself surrendering to sleep which overcame her in a blanket of oblivion within seconds.

All of her muscles were at peace—not a twitch nor a spasm, barely any movement of her chest rising and falling with each intake of air such was the depth of her oblivion. She was enwrapped into a blanket of darkness, hidden and safely protected from all the problems she faced when she was awake. She was in total tranquility, rejuvenating her mind and muscles before the onset of yet another day of turmoil.

Until a voice penetrated her dark sanctuary. “ARTEMIS! Come down here!”

The voice startled her, and she was hurtling down to an invisible wall with an immense speed. Her side connected to hard floor, her eyes flying open and a yelp escaped her lips. Smearing pain traversed from her hip to flanks, making the female groan. The duvet was entangled with her sexy legs, and she kicked it off before staggering to her feet.

She rubbed her sore side, before trudging to the door. She left her room without freshening up; her hair was lazily ruffled, the ebony tips haphazardly intertwined into a slovenly chaos and her eyes were still glazed over with the remaining bits of sleep.

Wondering why Xaryus had called for her, she descended down the stairs, the back of her palm rubbed against her eyes trying to dismiss the sleep. “Xaryus…? Why’d you call me—” she halted in her steps as her jade orbs were pinned to the screen that was once dark, it lit up and it showed a drawing that looked awfully like Zarcanith. Her parched lips fell open as she stared at the screen.

“If you have seen prime suspect, Zarcanith, please call…”

Her ears tuned out the voice in the screen. Zarcanith… came in this dimension along with me…?

She began to listen to the black square as it changed to the woman who was speaking. “Witness, Emily Bloom, stated that the ship was heading back to Australia when they found Zarcanith stranded on an island. The captain of the ship—William—took him in and when Emily had heard screams, she immediately took action and went to hide.”

“He’s here…” Xaryus confirmed, gravely looking over at a barely lucid Artemis. She really did appear as a chaos over her own form but he decided to disregard it, seeing as how there were more important things to discuss.

Erik watched for a few moments more and stepped over, the spatula which he had been cooking with still in hand. “Who’s here? Do you two know that guy?” He asked, motioning towards the drawing still shown on their tv. And judging from the ways their eyes were casted downwards and silently talking to each other, they obviously did.

Confused, Sol was still sitting on the couch but sat up abruptly, turning to face his guests. They knew something... so the plot thickens. He was waiting for something like this to turn up, everything seemed too sweet; and now that it was actually here Sol wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He didn’t want to get within fifteen feet of a maniac, but an inkling told him he would have to.

He was still contemplating the situation when Xaryus heard the questions posed by Erik. He turned his attention to the human who gazed at him with curious gray eyes, before parting his lips in an attempt to answer. What would he say?

“... that man is my brother,” Xaryus frowned, dropping the bomb quite rudimentary. It was only a matter of time before he would have to go after Zarcanith himself, simply because he knew what he was capable of and knew that his words meant more to Zarcanith that anyone else’s.

Zarcanith wove through the alleyways, dissolving into the shadows and evading from humans which walk the concrete floor bathed in dawn’s first rays of light.

He had been watching humans through the broken windows as they passed by. They wore thick coats that hugged their figures, keeping the wintry zephyrs from dancing along their skins and wool hats that were pulled down to their red ears. Their veiled hands were stuffed into the pockets from the cold as they hastily walked to and fro to their designated places. How did these human survive without magic?

His long strides ceased and halted in front of a large square grey building, with narrow windows in straight rows. It loomed over him at least three or four stories, however, there was nothing about it the very least picturesque or attractive.

He had assumed that the other humans had found the ship… where the massive genocide he had committed, just thinking about their horrified expressions made him chuckle with delight. However, he did not want to get caught. He wanted to find all of the pieces of the dagger in peace, without humans interrupting. Hunger was also gnawing at him, sending undertones of subtle pain within his stomach. But, he couldn’t just waltz into a market with suspicious eyes nailed onto him.

This meant: he had to dress and act as a human.

His eyes were pinned onto the narrow window only a few feet away from him. He focused on the window, his energy traversing through the window and into a room. Closing his eyes, he released energy that was pulsing through his veins and he felt an immense force pushing him from behind. When he opened his eyes again, he was in someone’s bedroom.

A simple twin-sized bed was at one corner, the duvet draped over it messily. A bookshelf that contained various books was next to a desk. The walls were a blank white and dark hardwood floors were obscured with a small rug that resides in the middle of it. A rather simple bedroom.

His visionaries caught a rather large looking wardrobe and before he can walk over to it, his heightened senses picked up soft talking in one of the rooms. He pivoted the doorknob slowly and peeked into the other room. A male was lazily sprawled on the couch, appearing to be asleep. His snores drowned out the voices that came from a lit up screen.

Zarcanith closed the door in a quiet manner and turned to face the wardrobe. He took a step towards it and when his feet connected with the ground, the floor creaked and groaned under his weight and he winced. Removing his heels from the ground, he transferred all of his weight to the balls of his feet.

With one step at a time, he gradually reached the closet. He opened the doors to the closet and sees a large variety of shirts and pants. Though, he already picked out one. He swiftly grasped a coat, studying it.

The dark coat flowed knee-length, buttons lining down the middle and along the cuffs, as the collar is quite long and obscures his neck and below the nose, the pockets were large and located near the flanks. It did not have a hood to conceal his hair or part of his face, but it would have to do.

Draping the coat on his forearm, he closed the closet doors and tiptoed to the window, where he teleported outside in the cold.

Huffing, Erik walked back into the kitchen and moved some pans around. “Fucking shit,” He cursed foully, pouring Artemis’ bacon into a porcelain plate. He placed it on the table with a lid atop it to keep the food warm and stepped back outside. “Are you in the mood to eat?” He asked her, gray eyes questioningly looking over her frame. She didn’t seem in the least bit ready to consume food; just by the way her ebony hair stuck up in odd angles and her clothes seemed wrinkled with the effects of tossing in your sleep.

Xaryus sighed deeply, sitting down again. His usually exuberant umber eyes which were filled with some grief, were cast downwards at the wooden floor. He needed to find a way to fix this, and quick. But he knew he wouldn’t get through to his brother.

It just wouldn’t work.

The fear of facing Zarcanith on his evil deeds were eating Xaryus inside out, each and every day, simply because he knew what the other was doing and why he was doing it. By the Gods, if this were to go on any longer there would be hell running amok through this world and Nuxvar. He slid a hand through his thick brown hair and sat back, lost in thought.

He didn’t even notice the worried glances Sol was trying to burn through his skull. Finally, the author stood up and discreetly made his way around the coffee table to get his guest out of those obviously negative thoughts.

“Well, are you gonna walk through the streets with your pecs out?” Sol asked Xaryus suddenly, running his sharp blue eyes over the other man’s frame. His cardigan… sweater- robe, whatever it was, seemed warm and thick judging from the material it was made from, but Xaryus was still shirtless and that wouldn’t do anything against the cold, bitter atmosphere.

Looking up at Sol whose intense eyes were still staring at him, Xaryus finally lowered his gaze down at his attire. “I suppose not… even if it is far from an eyesore.” Sol’s eyes turned into slits and continued to stare at Xaryus who was smirking at him devilishly. After a second or so, he shook his head and laughed quietly, ripping his eyes away from the man in front of him and turning to his lover who was tending to Artemis. “Well… I guess we’d better go out and get them some more… temperature suitable clothing.”

Zarcanith donned on the ebony colored coat after doffing his cloak. His digits weaving along the buttons and fastening them over one quick swipe. The collar had reached below his nose, obscuring his neck, chin and lips.

His cloak was draped over his forearm, and he stared at it in wonder. He couldn’t haul this around…

Holding the coat with his cold hands, he transmitted his energy to the coat. The coat dwindled into the size of a coin, and the fabric altered into metal. A round object with four holes resides on his palm; a black button with swirls of silver button resided on his palm. Ramming his hands into his pockets, he slinked away from the alleyways to the roads where humans have strolled and various stores have lined the streets.

The sidewalks were smooth grey stones, joined with such precision that the joins were almost invisible, albeit scattered with litter, debris and snow of the leaf-less trees. The road is a monochrome patchwork, each one lined with a shiny border of tar, though cracks and potholes lined the streets. The trees are gnarled embittered trees growing tall but without strength, competing unnaturally against the towering blocks they were planted too close to. The snow settled onto their branches and mossy from the perennial dampness and incessant snow. Tram wires strung from posts dangle at a two-story height, beyond the daily regard of the humans who walk heads down to their destinations. At intervals there are these streetlamps, dappled with grey chips of undercoat and emitting an orange glow during the night.

Zarcanith scanned the streets; looking for a market that sells food. Since he does not have this place’s currency to buy food; he would just have to steal. His eyes landed on a particular store, the store’s banner read, “Supermarket” and various fruit and vegetables that were on stands. Shopkeepers stood outside, screaming out offers on the top of their voices to attract customers. People were walking into and out of the store.

With long strides, he crossed the street, making sure the humans’ transportation—big metal boxes they call cars—were not speeding hastily along the snow laden streets. He entered the store, looking around. Aisles with shelves were lined neatly, packed with various products. People hurriedly grabbed items off of the shelves and into their carts, barging, shoving, and bumping, all in their own little world devoid of manners and etiquette. Proceeding into a random aisle, his eyes swept along the products. Some of the items he did not recognize, but he paid them no mind.

He halted in his steps. His visionaries caught something, something that he recognize and would fill him up: ramen. His lips parted, and he looked around the aisle. There was no humans within this aisle, perfect.

With one quick swipe, he hid the product in his coat. Hiding it to the best of his ability, he quickly walked away out of the store and into the bustling streets, joyful that this was a success.


***


After the question had left Erik’s mouth, with a blink of an eye, Artemis refreshed herself. Her hair was no longer a slovenly chaos, but replaced with lustrous but soft curls. The sleep was wiped away from her dazed eyes, and her fragrance dipped in lavender.

Artemis’ stomach had growled when Erik mentioned food. The aroma of bacon had wafted down the kitchen and reached her nose. Nodding to Erik, she followed him to the kitchen where she dug into her food to fill her famished stomach.

When Erik was sure Artemis was eating peacefully, he set a drink near her plate and left her with instructions to simply leave the porcelain in the sink when she was done.

He left the kitchen upon hearing Sol’s suggestion. “Sure…” He agreed, stepping over. Xaryus stood and walked into the kitchen, obviously to accompany his Nuxvarian friend. The thick robe drifted behind his toned legs as he disappeared into the doorway.

“You’re pretty good with that stuff, you could just guess their sizes, right?” Erik asked, glancing over at his lover who tread up the steps in front of him. He got a good view of the latter’s ass like this, all in its rounded and plump pride. But he would save these dirty thoughts for a little later. Rushing would be no fun, huh?

“Yeah, I’m completely fine with guessing,” Sol responded, purposely slipping in front of Erik. He made sure to give a perfect view of his toned asscheeks through the loose sweatpants, and knew it wouldn’t be long before Erik would make a move on him. They got to their bedroom and stripped of the casual attire, dressing in warm pants and thick sweatshirts.

“Is that enough?” Sol asked as he ran a couple fingers through the longer side of his ebony hair, pressed his flat hand against the sleeve of Erik’s blue sweatshirt. “I don’t want you to catch a fucking cold, like last week,” He thought back to the recent sickness his boyfriend had caught… and the amount of snot-filled tissues he had to scoop into the trash can made him shudder.

Heaps of cough drops and Kleenex, liquid cough medicine and sleeping serums sit bestrewn across the lamp desk. Precariously teetering to a side while watching a sleeping Erik with heavy blue eyes, Sol sighed his exhaustion and finally deemed it safe to slumber. He sunk underneath the covers, indulging in its spreading heat; and turned his back to his lover, snuggling into the equally warm body.

Taken by some surprise, Erik looked down at the sweatshirt he had been wearing and back at Sol, smiling gently. “I could say the same for you… my baby is always getting sick,” much to Sol’s annoyance, he grinned cheekily and nuzzle his nose into the latter’s warm neck. Neither of them could say no to some cuddling right now.

‘Yeah, yeah…” Sol couldn’t help but smile lazily up at his lover, the familiarly intoxicating, lulling scent of light cologne nearly enough to put him to sleep. Erik always had such a nice body smell; as negative as it sounded, it was true…

Erik smiled into Sol’s neck and then let the man go, they’d be able to take all of this a step further in the car. As the latter stepped away and began walking towards the door, Erik slapped his ass and overheard Sol’s curses disappearing down the stairs. He fixed his wispy auburn hair in the mirror; and then proceed to following his lover.

As he grabbed the house keys off a hook near the front entrance, Sol watched Erik inform their guests of their departure.

“We’ll be right back, guys.. we’re going to get you some winter clothes. Just stay put, alright?” They announced their goodbyes before stepping out into the cold and bitter winter morning. Frigid air, which along every inch of it came light, feathery snowflakes; turned both men’s noses a bright pink color in the time it took for them to reach their car. Packing themselves into the rather large, black Toyota Land Cruiser, Erik settled in the driver’s seat and looked over at his boyfriend in the passenger seat. They locked all of the doors and started up the car, and as Sol worked on rerouting the GPS, Erik decided the stores they could venture to.

“Sears… nah… Target? Hmm-”

“Forever fucking 21,” Sol choked out with strangled laughter, trying hard not to burst into humorous tears. They’ve only been to the renowned fashion store Forever 21 a couple of times and quite frankly, didn’t like their merchandise.

In all, their habits were rather strange. They went from store to store, usually shopping for expensive name brands, picking random things off shelves that they would wear once before forgetting days later. You could imagine, the massive quantity of either man’s wardrobe… judging they both had separate ones. Sol, containing a slightly increasingly complex style than that of Erik’s seemed to always collect more items on his journey through the store. Converse, Vans, Toms, Nike; and other various shoe boxes would line the bottom of the cart. Erik would scoff at his lover’s rambling, knowing the latter would only wear half the amount.

With a chuckle, Erik shook his head and put his hands on to the wheel, looking outside the window. “Very funny, babe… Target it is.”

***

Propping his chin on his palms, Xaryus gazed boredly at Artemis. She had just about finished her food and he was still curious on the facts he seemed oblivious to knowing.

“So, what happened between you and my brother?” He asked the female, umber eyes wide with the need to know. So many questions, like some limbo of thought and stupefaction, that would disappear if she just informed him. Surely, it seemed an answer away! Bothering him all night, the thoughts were; and realizing the resolution to these troubles were merely a conversation away only intensified his desideratum.

With the ramen in his coat, he trudged along the sidewalks. The amount of humans have diminished when the winds breezed strongly against the city. With long strides, he hastily made his way to the alleyways that led to the abandoned and lone structure, wiped from these humans’ memories. Forgotten.

He buried his frigid digits inside of his pockets, feeling the cool metal of the button under his fingertips. Though, when he removed his hand from his pocket, the cuff of his sleeve pushed the button out, falling to the ground. He continued to descend to the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the fact that his button had slipped out of his pocket, until he felt a tug on his pants that made him halt in his tracks.

His eyes trailing down, he locked gazes with a child. His cheeks and nose were red against his pale complexion, a jacket draped to keep his small figure out of the cold. He was holding a button—his button—between his thumb and index finger, raising it.

“U-um… you dropped this mister…”

A smile graced Zarcanith’s lips as he knelt down to the boy’s height. Receiving the button back, Zarcanith patted the kid’s head gently. “Thank you for returning it,” he rose, watching the boy walk back to his mother who was scanning the products that were held outside of a store.

Letting his smile fall, he resumed his hasty pace towards the abandoned building. Hunger had relentlessly gnawed at his stomach, and he wanted to eat as soon as possible.

Slipping into the dark alleyways, he wove to and fro amongst the large structures that loomed over his figure. But at last, he arrived to his destination. Walking up to the door, he pushed open the door, the hinges whining.

Though, even though it was still cold within the building, he was relieved that it had at least, some resistance from the cold entering. Slipping his hand in his coat, he grasped the ramen, removing it from his coat. Peeling off the paper that concealed the contents inside, he studied the cup. Water. He needed water.

Focusing all his energy to his palm, he felt water generating out of his palm and fingertips. Controlling and generating elements such as fire and water were the easiest kinds of magics to master and takes little energy. Letting the water dance along his fingers, he motions the water into the cup and the water begins to fill the cup, swirling the noodles around.

Putting his left hand on the bottom of the plastic cup and his right hand wrapped around the cup. Feeling energy pulsating through his hands, a burning sensation took over his cold hands, and within seconds, the water within the cup began to boil. Though, he controlled the heat—he certainly didn’t want the cup melting on him. Within moments, the ramen was hot and ready to eat.

Flicking his wrist, a metal fork was in his hands and he dug into his ramen, ravenously taking a large bites to fill his famished stomach.


****


Artemis took her last morsel of her food, and when Xaryus asked her what had happened between Zarcanith and her, her eyes casted downwards, avoiding his umber irises. Twirling her fork that she grasped in her right hand, she put it down onto the plate.

Lacing her fingers together and her elbows settling on top of the table, she rested her chin on top of her intertwined digits. Strands of her hair fell before her face as she parted her lips to speak.

“The Dagger… Do you know why Zarcanith wants it so much…? Because of the great power it holds. It can save and protect the lives of my people. Or… The dagger will destroy lives with one swipe and doom Nuxvar to its fall. He wants to control Nuxvar, send it into his command. Controlling every living thing and whoever dares to defy him, will meet a perishable end. But… The dagger belongs to a Wielder. The Wielder will end the destructible fate that Nuxvar had faced and banish all corruption that plagued the evil’s mind. And… I searched high and low for this Wielder whilst running and hiding from Zarcanith, trying to keep the dagger from falling into his hands.”

It was a mess.

Only one man really liked shopping.. But yet, both couldn’t resist running throughout the store in search for their targets.

“No, no… that won’t do,” Sol concluded, rubbing a hand to his chin. Erik held up a long brown coat that reached the knees; the edges lined with a fluffy white fur. But, in his opinion the pockets were at an odd size and height…. the buttons were engraved with hideous designs and the fur seemed too thick. “We need something sexy! Artemis has a beautiful form, that tunic won’t do much to show that.” He grinned like an idiot and rustled through the jackets in the aisle, humming to himself.

Nearby, Erik smiled; amused. It was cute to see his lover so absorbed in these activities.
Shopping, for one, seemed be one of his favorites. Putting the rejected jacket away, Erik turned to a rack and eyed it, humming. He wasn’t very good with women’s clothing… he’d leave that to his lover. Looking around, he spot the men’s aisle. He’d do well in the arrangements for Xaryus’ clothing.

“Let’s see…” Erik whispered to himself, pushing through the jeans. Xaryus seemed young, but not much younger than himself or Sol. He picked the appropriate sizes, two pairs of jeans. After draping them over his arm, Erik wandered over to the men’s coats, spotting a couple that would look good on the nineteen year old’s form. “Oooh… charming,” He grinned at a gray suede coat, black shiny buttons that lined the opening catching his attention.

With interest, Erik plucked the coat off the rack and held it by the hanger, twirling it around. It seemed stylish and somewhat… chic, with large pockets and an attractive black trimming at the edges of the sleeves. It was hoodless, but that’s what hats were for. “Perfect.” His lips curled into a smile and he draped the coat over his arm, picking a suitable wool sweater out and eventually deeming his search over. He had all the necessary parts to Xaryus’ outfit…

Oh, no.

Sol.

He facepalmed, as a voice neared his ears.

“There you are, babe.” Sol’s bright smile beamed as he pushed a cart over at least halfway full with clothing articles. “I got all the stuff. Look-” Enthusiastically, he went through the attire he had picked out. “Artemis’ coat. Isn’t it elegant?”

It was a trenchcoat, reaching just above the knees. Maroon in color; and dark plastic buttons that could allow it to be closed lined the opening. “I also got her some jeans, hopefully she likes them; and this long sleeved shirt is just fabulous.” Sol gingerly pulled the shirt out, dark gray in color. It had a turtleneck, which seemed reasonable judging the bitter weather. He was pleased with his selections, and grinned at Erik waiting for his opinions.

The latter gazed upon the clothes, nodding slightly. “Yeah, they’re beautiful. Artemis would love them. Except..” His gray eyes drifted to the shopping cart.

“...what?” Sol asked, his smile disappearing. He followed Erik’s bewildered gaze, azure irises looking down at the cart halfway-full with clothing. His smile spread again, and he snatched the clothing picked out for Xaryus from Erik’s grip. “Don’t worry about those, in the cart.” He smiled innocently and inspected the male clothing with an intense seriousness. “Much sexiness. I like them. Let’s go check out!”

“The total is one-thousand four hundred dollars and fifty cents.” The cashier smiled politely as Erik plucked a card from his leather wallet and swiped it in the machine. While he typed in his pin, at his corner vision he noticed Sol speedily loading the bags.

So adorable.

***

“Stop, you’ll get it on the ceiling!”

Sol fumbled around in the spacious back seat while he glared up at Erik who was touching him in very… sensitive areas. Really, the latter was always so insatiable; even though Sol had no problem with settling for some action at the moment. The wait was agonizing, and he had to hold back around their guests… God, the blue balls was killing him.

“Just fuck me already,” Sol cursed breathlessly, grabbing at Erik’s shirt to pull him down closer. They kissed hard, rubbing their bare groins together like starved sex Gods. Erik smiled into Sol’s mouth and pulled away, massaging the tense abs below him. “So feisty… like a tiger. What if I teased you a little longer?”

“Then I would tie you up and whip you until you’re begging me to touch your cock,” Sol smiled dirtily, indulging in his lover’s shocked expression. “Did you expect anything less, Erik?” With that question, the younger man reached up and put both of his hands on Erik’s broad shoulders. They were already beginning to gloss over with a thin layer of sweat, despite the coolness within the car. “I’m sorta glad our windows are blacked out…” Sol moaned as his legs were throw over Erik’s shoulders, the man’s hot breath nearing his ear.

“No… I didn’t.” Erik confessed, watching Sol’s face as he slowly slid his dick in. It was showing only pleasure; thin pink lips parted to form the shape of an ‘o’ as his eyes were squeezed shut. Erik was feeling his own pleasure, too; the sensation of finally being inside of his lover after what seemed like so long did wonders for his body.

After pushing himself in balls deep, Erik slowly began to move and leaned in close to kiss Sol’s soft, sinful lips. “You’re so quiet, babe.” He said, putting both hands on either sides of Sol’s head.
His lover’s grip on his shoulders strengthened along with his thrusts, and soon moans began to fill the car.

“It’s… just….” Sol began in between breathy moans, “... I can’t speak when… I’m feeling you like this...” He couldn’t help but scratch a couple lines down his lover’s shoulders, sure that the tight grip of his hands might have left bruises as well.

Only, Erik didn’t mind.

He loved mixing his pleasure with pain for the most part, and his baby scratching him wasn’t a big deal. He grinned, hair falling into his face. Sol was beautiful; black and pink locks from the longer side of hair on his head messily sprawling themselves across his face. His lips were parted, and his blue eyes were only half-opened and heavy; looking up at Erik through some hazy trance.

Sol moaned loudly as his lover began to mercilessly hit his prostate, over and over again. Just the sight of Erik alone was enough to make him go mad; broad shoulders and strong arms on either sides of his head; auburn hair that fell over his face and cast a shadow over those intense, gray eyes. They glinted with lust and power, and just witnessing this sight in the dimmed light of their car brought Sol closer to his climax.

“I’m… fucking close… shit,” Sol panted, feeling Erik increase his speed. “You fucker!” He shout, arching his back at the intense stimulation he was receiving. Erik, the bastard, used that opportunity to lean down and nibble hard on his lover’s neck, knowing how sensitive that area was for Sol. He only let one person touch him there…

“FUCK!” Sol cursed his release and shut his eyes tight, feeling Erik following him only moments after. It took his breath away, and as the last spurts of come left his body, he slumped back down into the warm car seat. He could barely see the man above him through his hair; but it didn’t matter. All he wanted now was closeness. Contact, to know that it was all real.  

Sol reached up, making grabby hands while whimpering softly. He wanted the other to come closer.

Breathing hard, Erik pulled out his softening dick and grabbed the box of tissues from underneath the seat, wiping he and his lover clean before chuckling gently. Sol could barely see him but reached his hands up anyways, beckoning him. The latter always got like that after sex; needing closeness despite what they had just shared.

Again, Erik didn’t care. On the contrary, he loved it. Smiling softly, the auburn-haired man tucked his dick within his pants after putting Sol’s manhood away. He lowered his body, keeping his hands on either sides of the younger man’s head and felt Sol’s arms wrap around his torso, keeping him in place.

“You were amazing.” Sol praised, biting at the skin below Erik’s ear. It was soft, and warm… after all, Erik only let one person touch him in that area. He felt the latter caressing his hair softly and Sol closed his azure eyes, smiling.

He wanted to stay like this forever…

***

Shocked umber irises stared at jade.

“Oh... wow.” Xaryus said, shocked. He broke his eyes away from Artemis’; which were intense and unfaltering. She was very serious with what she was saying…

“Corruption, huh…?” He mumbled, glancing down at the table. Looking back up at Artemis, her wise gaze hadn’t moved. Xaryus stood and looked around the kitchen. “There are a lot of objects here that I have never before seen in my life… huh...” Xaryus turned back to her, and began walking over.

“...you must have struggled greatly… protecting the dagger from my brother. His mind is enraptured by the idealism of power and rule… it blinds him. He has murdered so many in his rage...” He stepped closer. “...Artemis… I am... sorry…”

After he had finished filling his famished stomach, he decided to roam the streets once again—you never know, perhaps he’d find something that would be deemed useful to aid him in this dimension.

Sighing, his weary gaze swept the abandoned house. Fragments of plaster lie damp over a long untrodden floor, their only purpose to soak in the seasonal rain and snow. Icicles dangled from the window frames, each one like an ominous sword of Damocles. The walls, rotten and blistered, to nurse the mildew and rise up wallpapers that peel.

He strode to the door, the floor creaking and groaning under his weight, as if crying out from the pressure that have been loaded into them. Pulling the door open, the zephyr had ruffled his dark hair and danced along his skin, raising hairs in their pathways. Shutting the door behind him, he slinked into the shadows within the alleyways, where the darkness lurked in every corner inside the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. Litter is dumped on the street and birds’ nests amongst the sprawling rot.

After an eternity of walking through this entanglement of an alleyway, the humans that roamed the streets had diminished in amount; though, a handful had been surveying and shopping—as if the picked up winds had not bothered them. Zarcanith trailed amongst the sidewalks, contemplating the displays that have been outside of the shop; separating the person surveying their products and the objects with a glass sheet.

Mannequins with clothes that consist of jackets, scarves, boots… showcasing their clothing products that matched the winter season. He passed an overstocked consignment store; the furniture crammed within the stores and through the display glass. There were solid wood pieces and peeling vinyl; there were floral lamps and sleek metal coat stands, coffee tables and random assortment of chairs. He also passed a bakery that was huddled between a bank and the furniture merchant, both of them towering over the one story gallery. So much of the space that had been taken up by the ovens and the mouth-watering displays that had beckoned the humans were left to squeeze in and out.

Beyond the horizon, the sun illuminated the shimmering haze of pollution sinking below in the distance. The silhouette of the skyline pierced through the cold glow like a jagged mountain ridge. Lights began to flicker on and soon, thousands upon thousands of lights caused the dense mass of skyscrapers glitter.

Humans that roamed the streets were slightly diminishing, hurrying back to their abodes, away from the nipping cold. Zarcanith’s exploration of this city had come to a halt. He reckon that he should be heading back now.

***

“Yes… I’m sure it’s him. He looks exactly like the man who committed the mass genocide at the cargo ship,” he pressed his phone to his ear, his voice hushed. He had his back pressed onto the brick wall, eyeing the immobile man.
An authoritative voice resounded at the other side of the line. “Alright. There are police forces on their way. Stay on the line, sir—we need you to update on us if he had moved. What is he doing right now?”

“He’s—” Turning, he peaked behind the wall that he was leaning on. And found that he was no longer there. Suddenly, he felt someone grab him roughly by the shoulder. He lashed out, his phone dropping to the concrete floor as he struggled against their grip. He felt their right arm wrapping methodically around his throat. He felt his neck being jerked upward and a sickening crack. He felt a veil of darkness over his vision and then… nothing.

***

Before Zarcanith could react to the lifeless body that was sprawled out before him, ear-splitting wails resonated all around him. It rose to peak and then ebbed and rose to a peak again, undulating like a wave and all the while ringing his brain out. Police cars surrounded him; the white body work was always the first warning flash, even in the pools of yellow street-light they glow, advertising themselves. Without the accompanying car lights on top he would instantly dismiss it and carry on.

Heavily armed men slid out of their cars and pooled into the streets, closing in on Zarcanith. Kevlar helmets were on their heads and goggles were strapped onto it. Heavy, tactical vests were on their chests, thigh holsters that were packed with guns. Their rifles were pointed at Zarcanith, their fingers tightening against the trigger.

“Stand down. Hands above your head!” A booming voice commanded him.

Zarcanith did not comply.

“Shoot him.”

At the same time they had all pulled the trigger, Zarcanith manifested his energy as a shield, he let his energy to flow into his hands, projecting a field of magical force. A clear dome surrounded him, each time the bullets stroke his barrier it created blue ripples. The gunshots cracked into the air in unceasing motions, noises that heralded death and destruction.

He had his hands held out in front of him, trying to maintain the barrier. One of the bullets managed to graze into the barrier and incise his bicep, cutting through the jacket and nicking his arm. He can feel the energy of the shield slipping away. It only took a moment for Zarcanith to realize that another bullet had perforated the barrier and feel the sudden ringing pain in his thigh. He dare not drop his hands, for that would release the shield and he’d be plummeted with bullets. He felt blood cascading down and staining his clothes. He registered something lodged into his flesh, though he resisted clamping a hand on the wound.

Over the piercing sounds of the bullets, he had heard, “hold your fire!” and the shower of bullets have stopped, leaving smoke that enclosed on him. He felt the dome-like barrier dissolve around him, leaving him defenseless.

His lips twitched into a smirk.

The smoke has cleared.

Zarcanith stood, immobile, with his menacing spear in his grip. The bullet wound on his thigh faltering his speed slightly, he lunged at the closest policeman, slicing his neck wide open. Velvet blood splattered to his cheek and stained the grounds. He was dead before he even hit the floor. They looked at the dead body in horror.

“Fire!”

They had aimed their guns at Zarcanith, triggering the bullet to be pushed out of the barrel. He dodged, appearing in front of another human. With his free hand, he thrust two fingers into their eyes, sliding under the eyeballs while his thumbs were aimed for the inner corners of the eye, near his nose. He crushed the human’s eyeballs inside of the occipital cavity, making him scream in agony, dropping the gun. He finished him off by bringing his heel down to his windpipe, crushing it instantly.

Breathing hard, he dodged more bullets that were aimed for his head. He swung his spear around, decapitating two. His chest was heaving to and fro, and he’d admit; he was exhausted. Pain was pulsing against his legs, leaving him lightheaded. Using magic was his only hope of ridding of these irritants. His hand started to glow a light blue and he merged his energy into one of the police sedans. He rose his hand, and the car lifted into the air with ease, then he brought his hand down in full force—making the car crash into the majority of the policemen. It burst into flame, and the roar of the flames drowned out the agonized cries.

One man lunged at him from behind, knocking the both of them down. His spear flew out of his reach and he came face to face with a heavily-armed man attempted to thrust the knife into Zarcanith. His forearm came in contact with his and he quickly grabbed his wrist. Swiftly, he reached over to his arm with his free arm, such that his forearm is in the pit of his elbow. He grabbed his wrist. Pulling him off the ground, he used twist his torso to crank his arm backwards at the shoulder. Taking a hard stride, he tripped the man, knocking the knife out of his and sending him to the ground. Zarcanith pressed his feet to the man’s wrist, applying heavy pressure. The cop screamed, wrapping digits around his ankle, desperately trying to pry it off. With a crack, he had broken his wrist and finished him off by bringing his double edged spear to his neck, chopping it off.

His spear disintegrated into nothing as he trudged, careful not to put any pressure against his wounded leg. Using the brick wall to support his figure, he limped away from the scene.


*****


Artemis chuckled, trying to ignore the lump that had formed into her throat. Her visionaries flickered onto the table, unable to lock gazes onto Xaryus’.

“And yet… I failed to protect the Dagger from Zarcanith. My protection for the dagger was in vain.” She continued, her vocals quivers from despair, though she tries to hide it. “What kind of ruler would I be if I can’t even protect my people? What kind—what kind of ruler would I be if I can’t even prevent the corruption that overtakes my people…? I’ve failed the future of Nuxvar. I failed my people. I failed my… parents.”

She wasn’t used to revealing her vulnerability, especially not in front of Xaryus. She tried to hold it in, but the pain came out like an uproar from her throat. Beads of water started to fall one after another, without any signs of stopping. She turned her head away from Xaryus, not wanting him to see her cry. The muffled sobs wracked against her chest.

It was silent, as Xaryus stood thunderstruck, staring at Artemis with wide umber eyes. She was actually… crying? It took his mind for quite the spin, never before in his LIFE has he seen her shed tears… he hasn’t even recall the woman doing such a thing around Zarcanith as a young girl.

By the Gods, she must’ve have suffered greater strides than he thought…

Upon hearing her quiet words and witnessing the soundless tears roll down her cheeks, streaking long lines down her ivory skin, Xaryus bit at his bottom lip for a moment. What could he do or say, that wouldn’t sadden his friend any further? It was nerve-wracking, until he had an idea.

He sighed softly, fully confident that the decision he had made was the right one. After all, Xaryus wasn’t very used to tears. He fought in a strong army, alongside other men that were taught and trained as teenagers to be tough. The situation he found himself in now was not even near familiar; since age sixteen, he’s marched within troops and fought for his great Greek kingdom within Nuxvar, being told over and over again that pain was just another reminder he was alive… how in the name of Hades would he handle this?

Taking Artemis’ soft hands gently into his, Xaryus pulled the princess to her feet and smiled weakly, trying to see her face which she obviously tried to hide from him. What, was it pride?

“Your majesty… I may be going out of my way by doing this, but.. I’m afraid you need it,” Without as much as another thought, the soldier wrapped his arms around Artemis and enveloped her within the warm abodes of an affectionate hug, completely unfaltering. It was the best he could do in a predicament like this, and by the way Artemis’ eyes seemed void of happiness, it seemed like the best remedy.

“I think… on the contrary, they would have been very proud. Whether or not you think you’ve failed, there is still a chance at defeating my brother. You’re very strong, Artemis; in mind, soul, and body. I believe in you more now than I ever have. We all do.”

***

The bitter winds fell slightly, ceasing to unleash their fury upon the sleeping city. Towering ebony-painted street lights cast a glow upon the dark streets, which now barely held a solid amount of people. All that was left was a frosty atmosphere, a reminder of the mid-december climate.

“Hey! Look what’s happened! Who the fuck did all of this?! Call 911!”

Screams and shouts erupted from behind a row of buildings, all consisting of two-story townhouses. It was a naturally peaceful neighborhood; not much crime, friendly neighbors, and not too far from things such as the mall or various stores.

He heard the ruckus, and decided it would probably be best to inspect what it was. Being a journalist, he would get the scoop before most.

Looking around hastily for the source of the grim dialogue, Nixon lifted the red canon camera that hung around his neck by a thick strap and began walking towards it. A thick, gray blanket of smoke rose to the sky; had there been an explosion? He made sure to get a shot of it and sniffled, the coldness of the air affecting his nose.

“What the hell is going on…?” The redhead mumbled to himself, feeling the wind blow against his warm puffer jacket. He didn’t care to close it; the comfortable warmness of the fabric and thickness of his long-sleeved shirt underneath was enough to fend off the chilling winter air. Even his scarf did enough. A rugged breeze blew straight through Nixon’s exposed hair, ruffling its pale orange. Before long, his crocheted beanie would blow right off his head at the strength of the gusts.

Grimacing, Nixon turned around the corner, following the faint smell of smoke. This wasn’t a small explosion… and the fact that he heard the deafening waves of police sirens grew his curiosity.

Just as Nixon had been ready to lift his camera to his eye and begin taking pictures of the soot flying by, a man emerged from the gloomy shadows and proceed to walk past him, using a distant brick wall as some sort of leverage. How strange.. no one else was around, and by the way his leg slightly dragged…

“Hello?” Nixon asked over another gust of wind, stepping forward an inch. The black timberlands he wore on his feet made dull clicking noises with each step; as he held his camera within his two hands but kept its lenses aimed at the pavement.

Nixon took another step forward towards the man that didn’t seem to hear him, and focused on his features; rather tall, almost definitely a couple inches taller than Nixon himself; and slightly messy dark hair that obscured smaller parts of his face.

His attire, was a black coat… stopping about to the knees in length. There was no hood, but simply an enlarged collar that would cover the entirety of one’s mouth. Wait… Nixon recognized that coat…

That… that was his fucking coat!

“Hey!” Nixon shouted, dropping the camera to his chest and running forward a couple steps. He was almost certain that it was, in fact, his article of clothing. He had remembered walking out of the mall a week ago, holding a T.J.Maxx bag containing that very coat. Hell, he didn’t even get to wear it, he woke up last night only to find it had disappeared from his wardrobe.

“That’s mine...!” Nixon stared in half shock, half denial. How the hell did this guy manage to get it?

Zarcanith staggered forward, focusing on getting to the abandoned structure and tending to his wounds. Within each stride, pain shot forth to his thighs and blood that once flowed through his veins, were rushing down from the bullet wound. Blood would drip, staining the concrete ground within each step he took. Zarcanith would use the last of his energy to heal the injuries, but he needed his remaining strength to get back to the building.

Thick gray smoke billowed into the skies, the once evening sky was now shielded by a veil of darkness as the smoke swallows the sky. Sirens sounded like the horn of a juggernaut. It rose to peak and the ebbed and then rose to peal again, undulating. Blaring. Unceasing. Crippling his thoughts and assaulting his ears.

In the dim light that oozes through a narrow gap, lies the alley across the street that leads to the idle building. Daunting as the smoke obscures the sky behind the skyline of chimneys. Removing a hand from the wall that bore his weight, he tried his best not to apply weight on his wounded leg and appeared to limp.

Crossing the street, he disappeared into the labyrinth of passageways and dead ends. He leaned against the graffitied wall, dragging himself through the ascending route with utter slowness. Coming across a fork on the passageway, he took a left, leading straight to his sanctum.


***


She was taken by surprise when Xaryus wrapped his arms around her. In that embrace, she was cocooned, better than any butterfly-to-be, and her worries disappeared like rain that was kissed upon summer earth. She bathed in his warmth and the aroma of vanilla.

After the words have left his lips, she closed her eyes. There is still a way to defeat Zarcanith. All they had to do is get all of the dagger pieces…

The tears had ceased their rush down her cheeks, as they released.

“Thank you.”