Adam walked through the garden with his arms tucked behind his back, scanning for house servants as he strolled. A cool wind blew through the air and relieved him of the intense heat soaking into his coat, justifying a walk at this time in the afternoon. Flowers bloomed all around him, plants reaching for his legs as he walked past them and peered down paths for prying eyes. He made his way calmly to the edge of the garden wall, towards the roads and alleys beside the estate, and cleared his throat loudly.

Along the stone wall he heard a light tap, and in a second the wall was moving inward, revealing Brady leaning on his cane and pretending not to notice the open door. He stepped backwards into the garden and Adam quickly closed the stone door behind him, taking his hand and walking briskly. Brady had to stifle a laugh as he nearly fell over, to which Adam glared at him playfully.

They'd met each other a few times since dinner last week, first on "accident" as Adam happened to be on a shopping trip in the low town. What a waste of all my allowance, he'd said, non-too-convincingly distraught as he pulled out a plump leather pouch. All I have to buy is some phosphorus, who knows how much will be left over? Brady had failed to hide his interest, and before an hour was up, he had new shoes and a room in a boarding house uptown. When Adam finally left, he slept like a baby in his new bed.

A few days later, at behest of a thick piece of paper slipped under his door, Brady wandered through the streets until he found the theater mentioned in the letter. Adam was waiting for him, and they sat together in the backrow, discreet and away from the other patrons. In the darkness, Brady had watched ghouls dance over his face in fascination as Adam reminded himself to act normal. He was the first person Adam had met who never jumped at shadows.

Afterwards, Brady demanded Adam meet him at the park on the edge of town, waving off his concerns emphatically. Last time we had plans, I had to send George. Brady interrupted him with a laugh and said, If you send that nurse again, I'll require two meals to be satisfied. Adam had promised to try not to miss it.

Brady met him there the next day, and he led them out of town to the grain fields, which bloomed with colorful golden stalks. They walked and picked flowers until Adam realized all the herbs they were holding made great teas. Why don't we find some way to drink these together, huh? Brady suggested. Adam had promised him again.

That was yesterday, and now Adam pushed through the doors to a room connected to the garden, hesitating as he made sure the nurse was gone. He ushered Brady inside once he determined she was.

Adam removed his jacket as Brady spun in circles in the laboratory, his eyes starting on the ceiling high above their heads and moving down the elegant walls until he studied the equipment spread over the tables. Adam moved confidently through the mess. He pulled out a satchel from cupboards along the wall and guided Brady to a metal rod sat upright on a table.

"What are we doing here exactly?" Brady whispered, but his version of being quiet was normal volume for everyone else. Adam smiled as he collected items from around the room deftly. He returned with a mortar and pestle and a few small white bags before answering.

"Making tea."

"Why not in the kitchen? Seems dangerous eating anything out of this room," Brady said as he noted the phosphorus Adam had bought the day before sitting behind a glass cupboard window.

"Everything is very clean, and I absolutely could not manage sneaking you into the kitchen. My laboratory, on the other hand?" He whistled, revealing the herbs they'd picked stashed in the satchel. Brady picked up a flower and began depetaling it.

"Your lab?"

"I've been working with our nurse since I was nine years old, I have lessons here twice a week. Half of this equipment I asked my father to buy so I could keep learning."

"Your nurse– we're not talking about George again, are we?"

"No, he's different. And not so bad, once you get to know him." Brady harrumphed as he watched Adam fetch a glass jar and fill it with water from a spigot on the wall. He reached for another herb and dropped its fruit into the mortar.

"I'm sure he's nice when you stink of money."

"I assure you I don't stink."

"Oh yeah? And who told you that?" Adam glanced at Brady over his shoulder, but he was smiling. He came back to their table and placed the jar of water above the rod.

"Have you ever used one of these before?" he asked, motioning to the instrument on the table. It was a Bunsen burner.

"That's a stupid question, Hesler."

"Right. Well, you turn this knob at the bottom, and then you–" Adam flicked a finger and a fire sprung out at the tip of the rod, green at first and then settling into orange. Brady's jaw dropped.

"How come I didn't know you had magic?" he demanded. Adam reached for an herb and shrugged, but he couldn't stop the smile spreading over his face as Brady shoved him ineffectually. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I told you my family is a long line of necromancers. Did you think I was lying?"

"I'm not sure, I just thought you'd flaunt it more. If I had all those tutors and private lessons, I would never stop bragging about it!" Adam shushed him as he got louder, reaching for a bag and stuffing the bulbs of herbs into it. Brady followed suit, but Adam gathered he was as practiced at this as he was.

"I suppose that means I'm more humble than you."

"Oh please, we both know that if I grew up like you, I'd be so humble," Brady kidded. "And generous - I'd probably find some poor kid down on his luck and buy him a house or something."

"Woah, woah, woah, I'm not buying you a house!" Adam defended, but he'd been expecting Brady to tease him. He did it nonstop.

Brady smiled devilishly, but he took Adam's hand mid-motion. "I know, dear, but I'm so charming that it's only a matter of time until I can convince you." Adam tried for a laugh, but he was busy looking between Brady's eyes as he kept his hand in his. His blue eye shone in the light coming in through the windows, the color of lapis and hard as diamond, not looking away. His gray eye was like the moon.

Adam jumped as he heard the hiss of water hitting fire and evaporating, pulling away from Brady and turning to the burner. Water was boiling and splashing over the sides, but by the time Adam had reached to turn it off, the jar was floating above the flame and beginning to settle. He glanced at Brady to see his fingers splayed out, an invisible hand lifting the jar to stop its bubbling.

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He found cups and they steeped tea in the lab, Adam upset to find himself embarrassed by being so easily distracted. Brady sipped on his tea as he watched Adam avoid his eye contact, deciding to turn and inspect the room rather than watch the noble squirm. Adam was glad.

"You must be a master at all this chemical stuff, if you've been studying it since you were nine," Brady said, holding the cup under his nose. Adam leapt at the chance to find his footing again.

"Let me show you the supplies," and he rose from his seat, leading Brady to the wall of cupboards. His limp wasn't so bad after a few nights rest in a proper bed, so he settled for leaning against tables as Adam crouched down and pulled out a collection of vials. He showed off the powders he'd collected and dipped his fingertip into some of them. Then he summoned a flame, and it would combust into beautiful flashes of color, Brady cheering quietly. As Adam put the vials back, Brady peered through the glass windows at jars of salves collecting dust.

He opened the cupboard as Adam peaked up at him.

"Be careful–"

"I'm not going to break anything, relax." Brady grabbed one which was purple, trying to read the label but the letters swam in his head. He could read, just a little, but not something as long and twisting as that.

Adam recognized it instantly, feeling his blood run cold. He was opening his mouth to warn Brady not to when he pulled the cork from the top with a loud THWAP! A burst of powder sprang into the air around them, and Brady coughed as the smell of lavender and sulfur mixed noxiously between them. When he finally turned back to Adam, waving his hand through the air, he looked like he'd been shot.

The smell made Adam's heart hammer in his chest, reminding him of the cellar beneath his feet and George standing in front of him, head bowed in prayer. He couldn't find his breath as the memory flooded his brain, pain seeped into his fingertips, and the room spun around him in panic.

Brady was at his side in an instant, catching him and leaning him against the cupboards as Adam tipped backwards. His head felt like it was being split open. The light from the windows was going to make him hurl.

George, I need George now, he thought, but the voice in his head sounded so small compared to the ringing in his ears. The memory of a scream deafened him.

Adam raised a hand to block the sunlight, confused because he was in the cellar and there were no windows there, or else someone might see him during an episode. He couldn't recognize the scarred face in front of him, trembling against the unfamiliar arms lowering him to the ground. The smell of sulfur was like an anchor dragging along the bottom of his mind, kicking up muck and making it hard to focus. Where was George? It was a bad day today.

Suddenly, there were hands on either side of his face and Adam almost threw them off, except he was kicked back into the present by Brady's eyes locking with his, the moon and the sea pulling him back to earth.

"Adam, calm down, I need you to look at me." His lungs heaved in his chest.

"Y-Y-You need to get out of here," he stuttered, his whole chest trembling as he put his hands over Brady's. "George–"

"I'm not leaving– Adam, look at me. I'm not leaving." His head was exploding, and he closed his eyes, partially to block the light and partially to stem the tears that sprung to his eyes. You're going to kill him, Adam thought, hearing George's scream reverberating through his ears.

Brady watched him wince again and he finally put it together - the light! He snapped his fingers and the drapes over the windows collapsed in a second, plunging them into shadow. Brady would've jumped if he hadn't been watching Adam the whole time, but he caught the transition of his skin into bone.

He still felt flesh under his fingers, sweaty trembling flesh, and he focused on him through his bad eye. Then he could see it - the whites of Adam's eyes reappearing from the black sockets of shadow, teeth hidden behind lips, hair falling into his face and trapped beneath his fingers.

"Adam, listen to me."

"Please, Brady, you don't understand, you have to go, I can't–"

"Listen to me." Adam locked eyes with him again. "You're going to be okay. Breathe with me."

"You don't understand–"

"You've turned into a skeleton every day I've spent with you. I'm not scared." Brady took an exaggerated breath in through his nose and sighed it out loudly, trying to get Adam to copy him. He tried, but he was still too panicked, chest shuddering.

Brady rubbed a thumb over his cheek, taking in another breath. And another. And another. Adam started to get control of himself, eyes locked onto Brady's like his life depended on it. Based on the tears streaming down his face, Brady was almost convinced himself.

Finally, his breathing went back to its natural rhythm, and Adam leaned against Brady's chest, half asleep.

"You can't stay here Brady, I'm going to hurt you," he whimpered, but Brady brushed a scarred hand through his hair.

"I'm not leaving, not on my life."

Then the smoke started to leak from his mouth. Pain split his focus and Adam seized, locked in place as words cut into his head.

Unchained, at last, young one, cooed the familiar presence, but Adam took gasping breaths between messages instead of vomiting. He felt Brady's arms around him, tightly. Not hidden in a cell, burning in solitude. Not ignored like a little boy. See how we can work together?

"What do you want?" Adam spat, shuddering through paralyzing pain.

Obedience, young one. I've been waiting a long time to speak with you, waiting for you in the North. Adam managed to open his eyes, but what he saw was not the ground beneath him. It was the world, his city nestled between a river and the mountains, grain fields melting into forests. The world blurred and he saw some place new, a town which had carved itself a place in the trees. Dark claws crept out from the shadow of the canopy, converging on the village. It's time to set the world to rights, the voice cooed. It's time to meet your father.

~'~'~

Adam awoke slowly, his mind swimming in fog. His head ached and his fingertips burned, clenching the sheets of his bed tightly as the world slowly revealed itself to him. He could feel the heavy blanket over his chest, and the cool air on his face. Then he saw light behind his eyes and heard the creak of a chair to his left.

His eyes fluttered open, and he turned to see Brady sitting at his bedside.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," he said, hardly more than a whisper. Adam fought through the haze of his mind and tried to put the pieces together. He was relatively sure he had not taken Brady into his room yet.

"How–"

"You passed out in the lab. I decided to go get someone." Brady reached forward and put his hand on top of Adam's. "Your mom seems like a very nice lady."

"She let you stay? I must've looked pretty dire." Brady shrugged, but Adam noted the way his eyes studied his face in concern.

"I think it's more of a hostage situation, actually. I caught the Hesler kid feinting in the estate, she doesn't want that news getting out to the public yet." Brady winked, but Adam couldn't find his humor through the pain.

"What happened?" Brady asked. Adam watched him in the dim light, seeing his eyes flick over his own as he thought. He didn't know what to say: "I'm possessed", "I have a demon in my head", "I'm so glad you're alive", so he settled for looking back up at the vaulted ceiling in silence. He felt Brady's thumb rubbing over his wrist.

"You asked about my scars at dinner," Brady said instead, his voice a whisper. "If you really want to know, it's a curse." Adam turned back to him, ignoring the pain in his head at the quick movement as he searched Brady's face for emotion. He was gazing at their hands with a soft smile on his face.

"The sweet nurses from my village tried to heal me, but it just made things worse. My scars overtook my eye, and they spread down my arm. I lived in this small farming village, so the best healer in town was half as good as the worst cleric around here, and they didn't know what to do to help. If they tried to heal me, I'd start screaming in pain, and I'd lose another few inches to the scars . . . They could only wait to see if I died or got better. Sometimes I wonder if I should still be waiting." Brady let his gaze drift up to Adam's. "I know you're scared, you proved that down in the lab, but I'm not easily frightened. I want to help you."

"I'm cursed too," Adam said, his tongue dry in his mouth. He wasn't sure he should've admitted that, but in Brady's sea-blue eye, he could forget about the mountain of secrecy he'd been buried under since birth. "I hear a monster in my head. He said–" Adam blinked through the memory, his voice hardening as he remembered. "He said it's time to 'put the world to rights'. He wants to work with me." He sought Brady's eyes again as the words sat in the air between them.

"We have to stop it," Adam whispered, and Brady nodded cautiously.

"I'm sure his version of 'right' doesn't line up with ours. But it's just the two of us, where do we even start?"

"I have someone in mind."