The second trip to Ikana was just as bad as Lance had anticipated it being. In fact, despite the odds stacked against it to be outright terrible, it somehow managed to be worse. He mentally prepared himself to be belittled, mocked, and insulted. Bael would probably say something sarcastic or humiliating to or about him and Lance would have to grin and bear it. Even worse, Bael might prey upon his weakened heart, one so affection-starved that a brush of bare skin against his own might send him reeling.
Not even close. No, once the odor of boozy breath faded under the rising shadows of the mountain range, Bael grew quiet. Lance, in all his desperation to establish cooperation between them once more, made many failed attempts to broach casual conversation. He gained not a single response in kind aside from a grunt or two. Before the cityscape fully rose on the horizon, Lance felt maddened.
Even Nyx imitated this behavior, but it arose from a different motivation Lance observed. Whenever he cast an eye back at the pair of siblings, throwing out a comment about the scenery, Nyx remained steadfast in fussing over her brother. She never cast out a hum or a hah, realistically she probably didn't even pay attention to Lance speaking.
It was lonely existing this way. A journey that centered around him, yet he was meaningless to its cause. It further enforced the notion that he was indeed born into a life that expected greatness, but the soul placed in this body was ill fit.
Lance felt grateful as he passed under the welcoming archway that beckoned visitors into the city. His hopes, however, were quickly dashed as he observed how quiet and still the city was in the early hour. Not even the simple pleasure of observing people going about their lives was granted to him.
Without informing him, Bael slid off Oberon and took a sweeping inspection of the main thoroughfare. He removed the glaive from the saddle and hoisted it to rest on his shoulder. The blade was covered with a leather bag, either in the pursuit of safety or to deter attention. Lance didn't believe it was effective at accomplishing either possibility.
Following Bael, Lance swung a leg over the horse and began to dismount. Bael reached a hand out to press against Lance's shin, ceasing the motion; he never made eye contact as he did so.
"Stay on the horse," Bael ordered firmly.
Lance did as he was told, but unable to resist an expression of displeasure while doing so. Bael reached for the rapier he had brought along as well, but this time he handed the sheathed blade up to Lance.
"Keep this on you at all times. Don't let another brazen criminal take advantage of you," he said, resting the weapon in Lance's lap. "Stay just within my sight and don't get too close. Be as inconspicuous as possible."
Without protest Lance obliged, reseating himself in the saddle and slipping the sheath through a belt loop. Before he could be permitted to inquire their destination for the day, Bael was already walking forward with Nyx by his side. His gait was slow, Lance would give him that, to prevent their being separated.
What Lance wouldn't give to have another chance at this moment. To say the right words or take the right action. Anything to make Bael reconsider the state of things between them. Still, he remained silent. The chance had passed and time did not operate at his command. Once again, he was all alone.
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Bael kited Lance from location to location without end, from daylight until dusk. Lance was not permitted to be privy to anything Bael discovered or learned in his many visits. He was kept entirely in the dark, only staying close at hand for fear of imminent danger. His eyes glazed over and his mind drifted to happier places, as staying alert was a miserable task.
Lance wondered what he might be doing with his life had he not embarked into the woods that fateful day in another life. If he'd never encountered the shadow lurking in its depths -nor met with its master- would he be happier today? That Lance would mostly likely be spending time with friends, preparing for a wedding, and practicing for the carnival's stage performance. Typical, normal things for a young man.
One fact would still be true and that was his ill-placed pining. Before he had been consumed by the dull sting of unrequited feelings, yet now his heart became a scale balancing two forces of personality that he had all but became lost in. His heart yearned still for the warm radiant smile of a dear childhood friend; a fiery sun that would sear his flesh if he grew too close.
Now, encroaching on the peak of his darkened sky, rose a brilliant snow-white moon. It was beautiful, despite the pall of night that accompanied it. Certainly it had managed to chase the star from the sky, as that was what the moon did best. Yet its heat still warmed the earth, its presence still known. Never forgotten.
It also appeared true, just as with the real versions, they would always leave him behind after a time. He was only a man; too meaningless to ascend into the sky and live amongst them. It was foolish -and cruel- of him to try and capture either one.
"If I were anyone else, you would be dead right now," said a gravelly voice.
Lance stirred from his contemplation to see a blade pointed at his stomach. In his distraction, Bael managed to lead them to the fringes of the city, away from people, and wrest Lance of his weapon. His eyes pinched shut and his head bowed, shame and guilt all too apparent. There was nothing to argue; Bael was right.
Bael returned the sword with an irritated huff. "I see I don't need to further explain myself. Sundown is approaching and we mustn't be out after nightfall. Stay on your guard always," he warned with cautious eyes.
They travelled to a nearby inn where Bael rented a room for the next few nights. It was a modest establishment, but at this point Lance was only happy to be sleeping under a roof on a bed. He didn't realize it before, but the scorching sun had been draining his vitality. Thankfully the inn provided a dinner service, and while nothing more than a simple soup and crusty bread, Lance ate it graciously.
Before he could eat, however, Bael made a point to test their food before permitting anyone to partake. It struck Lance as a ridiculous and an overly cautious measure, but if it had been poisoned then Bael was putting his own life at risk. Lance thanked him, receiving no reply in return.
Their room was small but served its purpose. It was a single bedroom with a small bathroom, with the only unique aspect of it being a book of Terminian history sitting on the nightstand. Before a discussion of sleeping arrangements could take place, Bael took a seat on the floor against the wall so that he could face the door. Lance laid his belongings on the bed before heading towards the bathroom.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Bael asked irritably.
"I'm taking a shower?" Lance responded, voice inflecting as he perked an eyebrow at Bael.
Bael didn't respond and Lance wasn't going to wait for one; he hurriedly opened the door to vacate the situation. As the door swung to lock in place, he heard a dull thump as it met an obstruction. Just as he was about to try and shove it closed, Bael pushed his way into the confined space.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lance shouted, hands poised to push him away.
"Supervising, obviously," Bael said.
"What in the world do you think is going to happen five feet away from you behind a thin wall?"
Bael pursed his lips and squinted. "You could fall."
"This is getting ridiculous. I will not let you rob me of my privacy; the least you could let me keep is my dignity."
"Agh, fine!" Bael threw up his hands, eyes widening. "Nyx, get out. You're making him uncomfortable."
"That is not what I mean and you know it," Lance hissed, getting in Bael's face as he jabbed a finger into the other man's chest.
"I'm not budging on this so you're better off just getting comfortable with the idea." He sat down on the floor with his legs crossed, leaning against the now closed door. "If you think I'm gonna laugh at your dick or something I'm not. I'll even close my eyes when you undress."
Lance frowned in an attempt to look grumpy, but the effort fell flat as his cheeks grew warm. "Promise?"
Bael nodded. Since Lance's only options were to endure this painful experience or skip the bath, he decided that if Bael kept his word it would be tolerable. Lance turned his back on the other man and quickly undressed. He took the occasional peek over the shoulder to verify Bael's honesty. Not once did Lance suspect that Bael was going against his word.
Lance felt despicable, realizing that he hoped he might catch the other man misbehaving.
As he made quick work to cleanse his body of the day's filth, his mind was overwhelmed with invasive fantasies. Idealistic fantasies, the likes of which only happened between the pages of a book. His guilt stemmed from a multitude of sources, so much so it was troublesome to distinguish what made him feel the most deplorable.
Was it being hung up on someone so cruel? Unlikely, as most of his life was spent being in love with someone he shouldn't be. This was just the same sort of situation manifesting by different means. Could he be repulsed having thoughts of these nature about a man? To some degree, though the only things he could fathom to imagine is passionate kissing. He was only familiar with intimate acts between a man and a woman, and had no inkling what occurred between two people of the same gender. Perhaps with more understanding he could feel proper shame.
No, most likely this guilt extended purely from himself. He wanted love, more than anything in this world, but actually receiving it was not something he felt he deserved. Always giving chase but never catching his mark. That's all someone like him was destined for, wasn't it?
He was boring, not to mention impeccably plain. His family possessed wealth, certainly, but that wasn't something of his own merit. Also, as she had made a point to always tell him, there was nothing desirable about him physically either.
Thoughts of her sent shivers down his spine. It was a memory long since repressed and never once expressed. He never told anyone, not Aryn nor his mother. She had shown him just how unwanted he was and he never lived her words down. How could he forget? The memories came flooding back all at once.
The time he tried -and failed- to get over Aryn.
"Is everything okay in there?" Bael asked.
Without his realizing, Lance was propping his body up with a hand on the wall of the shower. The water had begun to chill and his breathing was shallow. "Y-yeah. Why?" he asked.
"I heard you take a sharp breath. The 'I'm in pain' sounding kind."
"Oh, uh, must- must have been because the water got cold all of a sudden," Lance said with a nervous laugh. He shut off the water and blindly sought after a towel. Quickly he wrapped it around his torso, making a point to conceal his upper body. In a blur he stepped out, moving without thinking.
"Woah, be careful or you're going to trample me," Bael said, pressing his hands to Lance's shoulders.
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"Get out," Lance commanded.
Bael blinked, clearly surprised at the order. His hands recoiled as if he touched a hot stove. "Easy. I'll close my eyes again just like the first-"
"Get. Out." Lance began to push him, succeeding at first but halted by Bael's bull-like strength.
"You could be a little nicer about it, you know," Bael responded.
"When I want you to stay you leave me behind; then, when I want you to go away you refuse. I can't take it anymore," Lance shouted, fists clenching into Bael's shirt. "Just let me be alone. I can't look at you right now."
Bael's eyes shifted downward and his mouth turned into a small frown. Soon after he let out a deep sigh as his shoulders sagged. "Fine. You can be alone." He pulled away from Lance's grasp and closed the door behind him. There was a noise as he must have sat on the floor on the other side.
Lance got what he wanted, but in no way did it help him feel any better. With his back pressed against the wall he slid to the floor and curled into his closely drawn knees. He stayed that way for a long time, the passage of time unbeknownst to him. No one disturbed him in all that time, both a blessing and a curse.
After exiting the bathroom, the rest of the night played out in silence. Bael had stayed outside the bathroom door, only moving once Lance surfaced. Lance's heart still raced as his body was still seized with panic, causing him to feel light headed while walking towards the bed. He burrowed under the blankets and did all he could to hide from the world around himself. His plagued mind made finding sleep troublesome, but eventually it came just as it always did.
His body was tired but so too was his soul. Tired of the cycle of love and loss. Tired of the cycle of death. Perhaps one day the curse would end, releasing him from its hold. One day he would fall into the void of the unknown, and the claws of life would fail to reclaim him.
The idea was starting to grow on him.
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When the next day arrived it began playing out much the same way as the one prior did. Lance found himself unable to stomach food and allowed himself to be guided around. This day melted into an indistinguishable experience from yesterday, worsened by the exhaustion on his body. He had pitied Oberon too much to force the animal into carrying him around for another entire day, so he curbed Bael's insistence to do otherwise and allowed the horse to rest today. Apparently after Lance shouted at Bael last night he eased up on his aggression. That or Lance had become numb to it.
Then it happened in the midafternoon. Something occurred to break the monotony of walking up and down the city streets on aching feet. The earth began to tremble. Tremendously.
As Lance fell to his knees, failing to maintain balance, he recalled something similar from the day prior. It astounded him how lost in thought he'd been to forget the ground beneath his feet shifting. This was different, however, and greatly so. The terrain began to shift, cracking into jutting shards of rock. The sound of it was muted by screams of terror and Lance's body began operating out of his control.
Bael grabbed his arm to drag him along, eyes alight with abundant adrenaline. Lance assumed they would be running in the opposite direction the tremors originated but that was not the case. They were sprinting headlong to the epicenter, where the horizon curved upward. A sight never before seen.
There was no other way to describe it. The earth was giving birth to something monstrous.
Faces passed them by until soon it was just the three of them sprinting to the center of the city. Lance dared not ask why or what was the plan, as trusting Bael was the only option left to him. If he perished, well, so be it. His untimely end could create infinite retries; a 'gift' others could only dream of possessing. That's all he meant now. An opportunity to get it right.
Before reaching the full rise of the cresting rock, Bael released Lance's hand and turned to him. "Stay here. If it looks unsafe at any point, just run away. Don't look back and don't worry about me." Bael uncovered the glaive and swung the polearm to wield in one hand. He bounded up the sheer incline, quickly leaving Lance's sight.
Lance stood still, unable to move his legs. A gnawing in his gut screamed at him to leave. This was where death lived, and should they continue to exist in its presence they would all surely die. That's what his instincts told him. Yet he could not move as his eyes tracked the small darting speck, fearing the worst for Bael's safety. Lance couldn't stand to imagine he might watch Bael be killed.
An eruption spewed rock as two enormous, sharp pincers shot out of the peak. A head began to emerge, revealing the giant crimson carapace of a centipede. Three emerald eyes and nigh endless rows of sharp teeth lie behind its mandibles. Finally, the elder sibling of the old twin gods appeared. As Aka screeched while breaching the surface, he marvelled at the magnitude of the creature. Its size was beyond comprehension; the head alone was larger than downtown Ikana.
Then there was Bael, even more minuscule in comparison. Evidently that didn't affect his resolve as Lance watched the other man reach the top of the distant hill before launching himself onto Aka's neck. After several moments of anxious observation, Lance concluded that Bael's presence was completely overlooked by the god.
Aka continued ascending into the air, which meant this terrible beast was capable of flight as well. Lance thought Odolwa was a frightening deity in his own right, but this was infinitely beyond the scope of the warrior. To think there were two of these creatures was too much to bear.
Eventually Lance lost sight of Bael and slowly he began to step backwards. Still his eyes never left from watching the creature continue to rise with no end to its body in sight.
Suddenly, Aka's head snapped downwards and its three green eyes looked in Lance's direction. The creature was so enormous he couldn't be certain it was looking at him, but that persistent sense of foreboding told him it could be looking at no one else. Aka's pincers chattered, a noise that sent shockwaves coursing through his body. The earth began to shake once more.
In a line, shooting from the point Aka brust from the ground, the ground began to crack. As Lance watched he could observe that it was speeding right towards him and he was helpless to stop it. He clumsily spun around, fleeing in the opposite direction. The sound of splitting rock increased exponentially and Lance knew it was futile to attempt escape.
The ground beneath his feet burst apart and was replaced by a gargantuan segment of Aka's body. He fell flat onto the carapace as Aka pulled its body upwards, crushing him flat against the hard surface. His ribs cracked from the impact and the force propelling him upward pushed the fragments into his internal organs. Lance's vision darkened as blood rushed from his head, mental awareness fading by the second.
Finally, the beast's entire body emerged as its tail curled overhead reaching the height of its movement. Lance was flung upwards from its body high into the bright blue sky with all the world below him. There was no sound at this height, save for his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears.
Until there was a voice calling out. What were they saying exactly? The volume increased until finally he could make out what they were saying.
"Lance!"
It was his own name. Funny, his name typically meant nothing to him, yet here as he soared with a battered body it gave him comfort. To be seen or simply just to be known. It felt nice.
"This wasn't supposed to happen like this, you have to believe me! I'll fix it. I'll fix it. I promise you I will," the voice shouted, sounding pitifully hoarse.
Lance's one eye still retaining vision sought the source of the voice who knew his name. It was coming from Aka. How strange. Perhaps it wasn't out of the question the creature could speak but why would it address him? It did this to him; it was too late to apologize now.
Aka drew in closer to him, its massive maw opening wide upon its approach. With one final glimpse before disappearing into the void, Lance caught a glimpse of brilliant white hair atop the beast's head.
Ah, so it was Bael. Lance smiled. Bael worried about him after all.
The world became dark. A wet sensation followed by the sound of cracking from within himself were the last things he recalled.
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What was once reality became a haunting nightmare. Just as before, he was saved from what plagued him by the sound of his mother's voice and the sight of that lone child deep in a forest. He got a better look at the child this time but nothing about them rang familiar. They were very young, possibly the age one might begin primary school. Their hair was ebony black with eyes a familiar icy blue.
"Why's he crying?" the child asked, peering at someone out of Lance's narrow tunnel of vision. "He should be happy now."
"That's just what babies do. It's the only way they know how to talk to us," replied a sweet feminine voice, instantly recognizable as Lance's mother.
The child twisted their lips in contemplation, reaching a tentative finger to poke at what Lance perceived as his cheek. Crying began to overtake the comforting hum. Then he was awake once more.
Bael was not there. Nyx, who was resting atop his chest, quickly explained he'd already left for the fairy grove and would return.
Lance felt hollow. Numb would also encapsulate the feeling well. His mind was closing off to protect itself from further harm and he was satisfied to feel empty. Caring meant pain and he didn't want that anymore.
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Days began to blur into one and so too did the lives that he endured. Bael was, as far as Lance could tell, running himself ragged. He mulled in silence with not a word shared between them for hours -or maybe days. After being devoured by Aka, Lance was pulled into a never-ending futile attempt to outsmart the god.
When they returned to Ikana that first time Bael immediately sought out an abandoned cavern in the back section of the city. Untouched and unseen by its people this was where Lance was commanded to stay and hide. Bael came and went periodically, but otherwise Lance stayed completely alone. Isolated and cold.
The first time was when Aka, at least to his understanding, crashed its great body into the mountain that housed the cavern. The walls and ceilings crumbled, crushing him within. After that attempt Bael had them migrate between a multitude of hiding spots he had scouted. This allowed Lance to survive longer— or it could have been even less time. Time meant nothing anymore.
During some of their attempts Aka still found where Lance was hiding and either crushed or devoured him. The times he didn't perish at the hand of the great insect were all the more horrifying. The god of death sent his thrall, hungry and enraged, to seek out his prey. When Lance first succumbed to a swarm of gnashing, rotting corpses he cried out for any deity that would hear his pleas. It wasn't quick the way Aka killed him, no, this was slow and horrendous.
Bael's cries and faltering attempts at diverting the swarm hurt almost as much. He screamed empty promises of amending the situation; that he was so close to understanding how to quell the beast.
Lance was tired. Exhausted from hurt. Just let him die was all he asked. Let him die and stay dead.
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How many cycles had it been? Lance lost count after the third. Was it ten? Twelve? His companions probably knew, but it was not knowledge they would divulge he was certain. Nor did he want to ask. The further his mind drifted away from awareness the better. Every waking moment was spent in dread. His faith in Bael faltered with each nightmare he awoke from.
He'd been in this riverside cave for three days now he was fairly certain. Bael came back tonight with the scent of death and eyes that had seen enough. They slept at opposite ends with Bael towards the mouth and Lance nestled in the back. Nyx was- well, Lance couldn't say with certainty. Was she even here anymore?
Was any of this real anymore? He had heard tales of a realm of the dead where the evil go to be tormented for eternity. If this wasn't that place, he couldn't fathom a more terrible place. Nor any living being that could deserve it.
Sleep often came easy these days. These lives. Most of his day was spent sleeping, as it was a happier place than consciousness. When he was lucky he dreamed of happier days. Days in the company of dear friends without a care in their young lives aside from grades and making parents happy. If Lance could see his father now he would wrap his arms around him and never let go. Tell him he loved him; something he hadn't done since childhood.
A firm pressure was on his stomach. Lance took a deep breath as he opened his eyes to greet his demise. However, it wasn't what he expected to see.
"B-Bael? Is that y-" he whispered, but a vice grip enclosed around his neck. He was strangely relaxed for a person being attacked, but this wasn't something he hadn't already endured in some form or fashion. Lance found the quicker you let it happen the sooner it ended. Fighting made them bite harder, squeeze tighter, and tear deeper.
Bael was crying. At least, in the darkness of the cave, it looked like tears in his eyes. One eye looked unfamiliar. Instead of a blue as deep as the sea, Lance saw an eye the color of blood.
"No, please. Please. Don't make me do this to him," Bael shouted, his right hand squeezing tighter with each passing second. His other hand scratched and yanked at his right hand, deep scratch marks apparent all over his flesh.
Lance's vision dimmed and he put up no effort to resist. In all the ways he's died so far no one had shown reluctance to hurt him. It oddly made him happy. He wasn't happy to die, nor was he happy for Bael to be killing him. Just happy that someone in some capacity wanted him alive.
The void claimed him once again. A brief respite. The last thing he heard was Bael crying out for him.
"I'm sorry, Lance," Bael whispered, voice cracking between gasps.
He hadn't heard his name spoken in so long. So that was how it sounded. His name wasn't anything special, nor did he think of it as much. Here though, and now, he was happy to hear it.
I only hope to hear you say it again with a smile on your face.
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Lance dreamed about the forest again. He saw the blue-eyed child once again, peering curiously down at him. The child appeared to be holding him close as he was pressed close to their chest. His mother appeared to be nearby as he spied a figure in a familiar nightgown, now covered in filth, kneeling near him on the ground.
"He stopped crying," the child spoke incredulously.
"That means he likes you," she explained with a laugh. She reached her hand above him, and the body he was viewing from reached a small hand to wrap around her index finger.
The child frowned and furrowed their brow. Lance's 'body' began to move as he was being rocked from side to side. "Thanks for letting me hold him. I've never gotten to hold a baby before."
Leaves crinkled as his mother shifted in place. "Why don't you leave with us? Come live with me and my husband. It's the least I can do to repay you after helping my son. I'll take care of you with what life I have left."
The arms around him clenched, causing his infant body to squirm with discomfort.
"I can't. Here," the child murmured before handing Lance back to his mother.
"Why not? You're just a little boy out here all alone. It's not right." she said, holding her baby close.
"I made a promise. Just like the promise you made."
Lance woke up before he could hear the rest of the conversation. Quickly the remnants of his dream became all but forgotten. Something else immediately apparent gained his attention instead.
It was the middle of the night, and for the first time in a hundred lives he woke up all alone.