Chapter 12 - Fly
“…Forget? You mean, make her forget they ever existed?” Pierre looked at Fíle solemnly. “It may seem cruel, but it could help her a lot. Besides, I’m not saying we have to completely erase them from her memory. For instance, I could just make her forget Ándras came home so she still thinks he’s with us in the military. But, the other boy… I honestly can’t think of a proper excuse for him to just vanish. Do you?”
Fíle looked at Pierre with unchanging wide eyes. “No, I don’t. But isn’t this messed up to even think about? Completely erasing Naz from her memories?” Pierre pursed his lips. “It was just an idea. Honestly, now that I think about it, I could probably just say that Ándras had to come back with us even without tempering with her brain. But still… I know it may seem crazy for me to even suggest, but think about it.”
Fíle opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water trying to say something, but eventually gave up. “Anyway, have you thought about joining the military,” Pierre asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “Do I even have a say anymore,” Fíle grumbled in response, causing Pierre to raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Fíle sighed. “I mean, I just teleported or something. I may be stupid, but I know that that’s not something anyone can do. So, even if I say no, won’t you just take me anyway?” Fíle sank closer to the ground. “I’m not gonna force you to do anything. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try to convince you though. If you go to the academy, we’ll teach you how to use your abilities properly so you won’t accidentally end up in another country,” Pierre said while smirking. “Not a bad deal, right?”
Fíle sat up a bit. “I don’t know. I can’t just leave aunt Gyn here right now,” Fíle somberly muttered. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. If you ever change your mind, pour some dirt in this,” Pierre said as he handed Fíle a half full water skin. “Or something else, as long as it counts as a contaminant. I’ll be able to tell, and I’ll send one of my guys your way.”
Fíle’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you leaving,” he asked. “Nah, just figured it might take you a while to make up your mind. Though, it’s getting pretty late, so I probably should soon.”
Fíle looked down bitterly. “Yeah, you’re right.” Pierre stood up and stretched his long, lanky limbs as his body started to grow smaller. “Have you made up your mind about what I should do with your aunt?” Fíle bit his lip. “It just seems so… wrong. Especially since we can’t even ask her. I don’t know what to do.” Tears once again started pouring down Fíle’s face. “Who says we can’t ask her,” Pierre blurted. “Because she’ll say no,” Fíle stated, “so we might as well just tell her the truth.”
“…so is that your decision,” Pierre asked with a heavy tone. Fíle stared at the sky for a while as more tears streamed down his face. “…yes,” he whispered. Hearing the verdict, Pierre sighed in relief. “Good choice, kid. Honestly, I regretted making the offer as soon as I made it, but felt like taking it back would be too cruel.” Pierre walked over to Fíle and knelt down. “I know this is rough, but you and your aunt will get through it. I promise.”
Silent, Fíle’s gaze fell towards the ground, wondering if that would be true. “If you say so,” he whispered. “I do,” Pierre affirmed as he stood back up. “Now then, do you think you could teleport us back to your house?”
Fíle chuckled, knowing full well how impossible that was. “I wish.” Pierre winced, his eyes gazing past anything in front of him. “But… what if you could?” Fíle stared blankly at Pierre for a minute. “What?”
Suddenly, Pierre’s eyes snapped back towards Fíle. “But what if you could teleport back home?” Fíle’s mouth gaped as his brows furrowed. “Then… that would be pretty cool?”
An uncharacteristically large smirk spread across Pierre’s face. “But what if you could teleport back home! And from there, anywhere you wanted!”
Fíle’s heartbeat spiked. “You don’t mean… oh gods, you do, don’t you?” Pierre’s shit eating grin widened. “Well, it would work, wouldn’t it?”
Fíle stared at Pierre in disbelief. “So, what do you say, kid? Want to learn how to control your teleportation?”
…
Fear wasn’t something Nazarius felt often ever since he realized that monsters did not, in fact, live under his bed.
Yet, for some reason, this day seemed to inspire that feeling in gargantuan amounts.
Nazarius’s heart froze as the writhing ball of limbs growled on the other side of the organ.
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Or maybe buzzed would be more correct, though the sound was so horrific Nazarius hardly cared.
Again, the creature screamed like a dying rooster that had mucus flooding its throat, causing Nazarius to instinctively push himself as far into the corner as he could while fighting the urge to scream. Using the dim light emanating from his tunic, Nazarius was able to make out the figure of the beast. It seemed to be some sort of bug— a meter long bug with a two meter wingspan and more legs than any living thing would ever need, but a bug nonetheless.
As Nazarius contemplated his options, which mainly consisted of sit still or sit stiller, the overgrown housefly wiggled around as it struggled to find its bearings. ‘Maybe it’s trapped in the sticky stuff,’ Nazarius silently prayed, though his hopes were quickly dashed as the bug flicked its wings, causing it to smash into the ceiling with an appalling amount of force.
But, before Nazarius could even wonder if it was dead, it maneuvered itself onto its feet, its large, bulbous eyes staring directly at him. The light from his tunic seemed to be completely absorbed by the unsightly insect’s exoskeleton, leaving only its eyes glowing with the ominous orange.
The creature’s head twisted ever so slightly to the side, as if it was analyzing him. Helpless, all Nazarius could do was watch in terror while praying to anything that the beast wasn’t hungry. Finally, as if making its decision, the fly spread its wings and flapped them with another outrageous amount of force, sending it barreling in Nazarius’s direction.
Before Nazarius could even blink, a sharp pain flooded his gut as the mandibles of the fly dug their way into his midsection. Dimly illuminated blood quickly started pouring out of his body like a faucet, and the ground felt as if it was rumbling.
Nazarius couldn’t even scream: he just gasped as his vision became brighter and fuzzier by the second. He placed his hands on the fly’s exoskeleton and pushed as hard as he could, but to no avail. The ground rumbled harder.
The creature’s mandibles jerked sideways towards Nazarius’s hip, causing a giant laceration to appear on the right side of the mess that was Nazarius’s chest. As if breaking the tension, the rough cut caused Nazarius to finally scream. Saying that it was bloodcurdling would be a severe understatement. Nazarius shrieked a piercing shrill rivaled only by a toddler in a public area.
As the fly aimed its mandibles towards Nazarius’s ribcage, the hole to the esophagus suddenly opened, the sound of running water echoing nearer and nearer. Distracted, the beast aimed its gaze at the only real exit, its mandibles glistening crimson. Before Nazarius could blink, the monster flew as fast as it could into the hole only to come shooting back in, now with a jet of orange water. The fluid rushed through the creature faster than anyone could react, causing the fly to shoot into the forbidden chute without resistance.
Not relieved whatsoever, Nazarius screamed louder, tears pouring down his face as blood leaked from nearly every pore in his body. The running liquid only worsened his pain to the point where Nazarius felt like he was leaving his body.
The stream desperately tried to shove Nazarius down along with the monstrous fly, but the same sticky substance that kept his feet glued to the ground while he was being flayed held its ground. Even as the river of pain sped up, Nazarius couldn’t budge, the water leaking into the mess of intestines his insides were, causing even more agony to fill Nazarius’s vessel. Unable to cope with the pure misery, Nazarius blacked out.
…
A small oil lamp sat on the desk in the corner of the room right next to the bed. Even though flames are usually silent, Ándras swore he could hear this one flickering.
After nearly passing out from learning secrets the gods would probably kill him from knowing, Ándras had no idea what to do except stare. Stare at the lunatic who may have a point, stare at the door in disbelief that he was allowed in the living quarters, stare at the ceiling.
From looking outside the thin, glass window, Ándras estimated that it was about six. He didn’t feel like eating, so should he try to sleep? As Ándras focused on less important matters, a firm, quick knock echoed throughout his room. “Come in,” he moaned as he sat up and did his best to look professional.
The door creaked open quietly, revealing the most muscular old man Ándras had ever seen. He had sharp blue eyes, a thick head of gray hair, and a quite long beard of the same color. His bulging arms carried countless scars of varying sizes, but the biggest one he had was definitely in the middle of his torso, which was visible due to the man only wearing a thick set of shoulder pads and a medium-length armored skirt.
“You are Ándras, I presume,” the man croaked in a moderately deep tone. “Yes sir,” he responded, doing his best not to sound exhausted. “From how you look, it seems like today you had ‘the talk.’ It’s all quite shocking, I know. Difficult to believe as well. All I can ask is that you keep an open mind while contemplating what Droserós offered.”
Ándras almost raised an eyebrow at the old man’s overly formal tone. “Did he send you here?” The old man smirked. “Not quite. I simply enjoy scouting out newcomers. I’m Voós,” he said before sticking his arm out. “Ándras. But you already knew that I guess,” Ándras stated while reciprocating the handshake. “If you don’t mind me asking,” the old man continued while dropping his hand, “what blessing do you have?”
Ándras looked down bitterly and bit his lip. It was always this damn question. “Hephaestus, but I can’t make any fire. Not decent in making anything either,” he scoffed. Voós raised an eyebrow. “Sounds unfortunate. However, I would like you to know that no blessing is useless. Despite being so incompetent, the gods always give blessings equally. Even if some are of more use than others. Perhaps your specialty lies in a field you have yet to explore,” Voós offered.
Ándras snickered. “I’ve tried damn near anything I could think of, but nothing yet. Maybe you could think of something.” Again, Voós smiled. “Perhaps another day. You should rest tonight. After all, Moró is scheduled to come back tomorrow,” he said, his face darkening ever so slightly. Ándras could guess why. “Is he the other one,” he asked somberly.
His eyes falling, Voós slowly nodded his head. “If I do it, what’re my odds of surviving? I’ve heard one in a hundred, but maybe you think differently,” Ándras chuckled. In response, Voós looked back up at him, pity etched into his features. “To put it simply, not good.”
Ándras sneered to himself. “They never are.” Voós seemed slightly curious at that remark, but seemed to hold in questions on the topic. “Will you go through with it,” he asked after a pause.
Ándras looked out the window, remembering that, somewhere out there, his brothers were dead, his aunt, grieving alone. “I don’t know yet,” Ándras responded, “I just want to see my family again before I decide.”
“That’s a valid ask. This is no prison, so you are free to at any time. Though, you’ll likely need a bit of help getting back,” Voós advised. Ándras looked back at him. “You,” he questioned.
“Perhaps.”
Again, Ándras’s gaze fell towards the window.
He didn’t know what the future held for him, he just hoped that he’d make the right choices.