Near the top of the mountain, the dirt trail turned into paved stone. Mark looked up at the ominous building as Horan strode up to the wooden double doors. Horan walked up to the doors and waited for a few seconds. When nothing happened, he cleared his throat loudly and the doors opened seemingly by themselves.
Mark slowly followed Horan into the foyer, looking around at the sparsely-decorated black stone walls. The only thing lightening the tone of the room was a string of potted vines hanging from the ceiling. Just like the rest of the Down Below, everything was equally illuminated, contrasting every light patch against the almost pitch-black walls, ceiling and carpet.
Horan stood in the middle of the foyer, looking around at the various doors leading out of the room. “Hey, Dad! It’s me, your favourite-slash-only son!”
One of the doors swung open. A faint, echoing voice sounded out from somewhere beyond it. “Horan! Just give me a moment, I’ll be right there!”
Mark sat on the floor as clattering noises followed the voice. After roughly thirty seconds of waiting, someone finally appeared from the doorway.
The golden-eyed Primus looked quite similar to Horan, though considerably older. Under his dark, humble robes, it was clearly visible that the Primus had been through something. His left arm was entirely replaced with a wooden prosthetic, and a metal pole appeared from under his robes where his left leg would be. Several mechanical-looking shapes protruded from the inside of his robes, and a faint burn scar could be seen on the bottom left-hand side of his neck. The various prosthetics across his body glowed slightly from the several luminous sigils etched seemingly randomly across the appendages.
Mark hastily stood up as the Primus limped into the room. Upon seeing Horan’s face, the Primus gasped. “What happened?! Where’s your eye? Or are eyepatches the hot new fashion?”
Horan smiled sadly. “No, it’s gone. A lot’s happened since I last saw you, but I’ll explain everything in a bit. How are you, Dad?”
The Primus’ worry abated slightly. “Alright, whatever you say.” His eyes shifted to Mark. “And who’s this? Is he a human?”
Horan nodded. “I told you a lot’s happened. Dad, meet Mark, my new friend.”
Mark folded his arms. “I think of us more as long-term partners.”
Horan patted Mark on the back, looking back at his father. “He doesn’t like me calling him his friend, he’s just like this. But as I was saying: This, Mark is my father, Lamius. Shake hands you two. It’s only polite, Mark.”
Horan stepped aside as Mark shook Lamius’ non-prosthetic hand. “Great job, you!” He turned to Lamius. “I’ve been teaching him proper social skills, he doesn’t talk to people much. Isn’t he doing fantastic?”
Mark let go and put his hands in his pockets. “The hard part is not slugging Horan every time he’s way too enthusiastic about me talking to someone.”
Lamius chuckled. “Yes, my son can be like that when helping people. It’s his way of showing that he cares, in his own pharaoh-y way. Come. I’ll make you two some drinks, Horan can tell me all about what’s happened since he last visited, and I can tell Mark all of Horan’s embarrassing childhood stories.”
“Dad! It’s been five thousand years, how do you still remember all those?!”
Lamius snickered and turned to another door. “I could never forget the vase incident. Let’s go to the kitchen, do either of you want smoothies?”
-
Mixed berry smoothie in hand, Mark followed Lamius into the greenhouse. When he opened the frosted glass door, he briefly paused in awe of the room.
Plants of all shapes, sizes and colours completely covered the walls of the greenhouse. Except for a few small paths crisscrossing the room, the floor was a kaleidoscope of multicoloured flower petals. In the centre of the room, four wooden benches were arranged in a circle around a small fountain. Various fruit trees somehow grew upside-down, their fruit-laden branches hanging down while the trunks clung to the ceiling like bats, fifty feet above Mark’s head.
Lamius began walking along one of the paths, headed for the benches in the centre. “I like to come here when I’m not doing anything. Follow me.”
Mark and Horan sat down in the middle of one bench while Lamius took a seat on the bench to the left.
Lamius, nothing to drink, sat with his hands in his lap. “So, do you mind telling me about what happened to your eye?”
Horan flipped up his eyepatch to reveal the empty socket underneath. “Thel did this.”
Lamius’ eyes widened. “Thel? Really?”
“Really. He’s gone completely off the rails. He kicked me out of the palace about a month ago and raised an army of demons to try and take over the whole world. We know he’s gotten as far as Greece, and we have no idea how things are going in the other directions.”
Lamius was silent for a time, looking at the fountain as if contemplating Thel’s actions. “But… Why? Thel has already tried this when I was Pharaoh, and it didn’t work. And from the times he’s visited me down here, he seemed like he really did regret leaving me down here. Why would my brother have a change of heart like this?”
Horan shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s probably the one who killed Thotep back then, so it seems like he’s been planning this for a while. He’s got the Roi of several Primoi, so he’s way too powerful for me to take on alone.”
“We tried, it went horribly,” Mark interjected.
Stolen story; please report.
Lamius nodded. “And let me guess, you want me to use my mystic Down Below powers to get a few Joeys to help you?”
“Well, yes and no.” Horan put his glass down on the arm of the bench. “Mark and I managed to get to the Greeks, who are willing to help us strike back at Thel if we manage to mop up the remnants of the demon army around their city that they destroyed a few weeks ago. Do you think you can be able to help us with that?”
Lamius nodded. “Of course. It’s not like those Joeys are doing anything down here. I’m sure I can wrangle a few to send up. I should have a hundred ready in about an hour, will that be enough?”
“Oh, sure, that’ll work.” Horan got up. “Thanks for the help, I’ll have Thel in chains before we know it, I’m sure. Your portal room is on the third floor, right?” He began to exit the greenhouse, but was stopped by Mark grabbing his arm.
Mark cleared his throat and gestured towards Lamius with his head.
Horan sat back down. “Right, sorry. I guess that is sort of rude.” He nudged Mark playfully. “Look at you! Giving the master your own lessons now? You’ve come so far.”
Mark huffed, stood up and walked over to a corner as if to inspect the plants.
Lamius watched Mark leave. “So… What’s happening between the two of you?” He pointed between Mark and Horan.
Horan’s shoulders hunched slightly. “What? What do you mean?”
“I mean, how do you know each other? You’re not the kind of Primus to go out and make friends with a human, even if Thel sent you out on your own.”
“Oh, right.” Horan leaned forward. “Well, you know how it is. He picked me up when I was thrown out of the palace, and chauffeured me all the way to Greece. I wouldn’t have gone ten feet if he hadn’t helped me get to where I needed to go.”
Lamius leaned back. “Hm. It’s not like you to simply admit that you needed help from someone like him, even to me. That trip really changed you, didn’t it?”
“It…” Horan looked at the rushing water of the fountain in front of him. “I dunno. I guess it just… pointed out what I am.”
Lamius’ expression softened. “And what exactly did it point out?”
Horan shrugged. “I’m not really sure. But I know that I’m really not equipped to handle someone like Thel. Mark did all the work bringing me here, and I don’t think that what I’ve got is going to be enough. I spent all this time trying to get to the Greeks thinking that they would solve all this for me, but they’re all a bunch of lazy idiots. I’ve gone soft over the millennia, and I’m sure Thel’s only been preparing for this. There’s no way I can stop Thel with what I have. Maybe I should just let him take over.”
Lamius looked at Horan for a little while. “And what about all those subjects? The ones you swore to protect?”
“I… I know it’s my duty, but… Thel’s only really done damage when I get involved. Because of me messing up, he levelled a city. Maybe if I just keep my head down, all this will blow over and Thel will calm down. Maybe some other Domain will stop him. Either way, all I can do is make things worse.”
Lamius nodded slowly. “Sounds to me like your duty is coming into odds with your own belief in your capabilities. I’ve got a question for you: Do you really think Thel has anyone’s best interests at heart?”
“…I don’t know. This whole time, I’ve been so busy trying to stop Thel, I haven’t really taken a look at what he’s done. Maybe? I have no idea what he’s really like; not anymore.”
“Then why don’t you have a look?” Lamius stood up. “I can send you up to the palace, you can take a quick look at how your subjects are doing. It would be nice to know how my wife is doing.”
“…Yeah, alright.” Horan stood up. “Maybe that’ll help me figure out what I should be trying to do.” He turned away and began to leave the greenhouse. “Hey, Mark, you can stop looking at flowers. We’re heading out to check up on the rest of my family.”
Lamius cleared his throat. “Excuse me, that glass of yours isn’t going to take itself back.”
Horan turned back and groaned. “C’mon, Dad! You can just clean it magically!”
Lamius placed the glass in Horan’s hand. “There’s no lesson to be learned from that. I’ll escort you to the kitchen, let’s go.”
Mark watched the two Primoi walk out. “Guess I’ll just wait here, then.”
Horan waved at Mark. “I’ll pick you up when we leave for real.”
Lamius limped through the dark halls of his home, Horan slowly following him. “I suppose your friend isn’t really ready to know about all that, then?”
Horan stopped in his tracks for a second. “What? I thought we were just…” He looked down at his glass.
Lamius shook his head. “We are, I just noticed that you aren’t bringing up any of what we talked about. You didn’t ask him for help or anything, you just decided to leave.”
Horan continued walking. “I just… It’s not really important to him, you know?”
Lamius stared at Horan for a second or two. “Isn’t he your friend? Don’t you always say that a friend is someone you can share anything with?”
“…Do I say that?”
Lamius placed his prosthetic hand on Horan’s shoulder. “I remember when you used to host parties down here. You were always mingling, making friends with all the new faces in the crowd, getting to know them and letting them know you. But if you spend a full month with someone and get as close to them as you are with Mark, and you think it’s not worth talking to him about your feelings… Are all those other people you shared secrets with really, by your standards, your friends?”
Horan made a meek attempt to pull away. “I… What?”
Lamius pulled his hand away. “I’ve seen you talk to plenty of different people. You talk to people you barely know the same way you talk to your own mother. But when you’re really familiar someone, you act as if he’s above you. As if you don’t matter to him. If that’s how you look at a friend, what do you really consider a friend?”
Horan was silent.
Lamius continued after a pause. “Why are you really trying to decide between going back for your people or leaving them to their fate? Are you considering saving them because you’re actually worried about what might happen to them, or are you thinking about it because you believe you have to think about it?”
Horan looked at the ground.
Lamius lifted Horan’s head up by the chin. “Hey. I’m not trying to shame you or anything like that. I’m just trying to make you think about why you’re really doing this. If you do something like this because you think you’re obligated to do it, seeing it through won’t make you happy. And I’m not trying to tell you to abandon all those people. What I’m trying to do is make you realize that if you really want to find fulfilment from this, you need to get a reason to want to do it. You need to stop and ask yourself, ‘Why do I want this to happen?’”
Horan was as silent as the grave.
Lamius took the glass from Horan’s hand. “Go get Mark. The portal is already set up to send you to the palace, I’ll take the glass to the kitchen.”
He patted Horan on the shoulder as he walked past. “I hope all of this works out. Not for everyone else, but for you.”