The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Syryn's clothing was too small for Seth, and Altaire's was too large. In the end, he settled for wearing the senior alchemist's night robe. 

Now comfortably seated, he turned to Syryn and regarded him till the silence became suffocating.

"You bear the mark of Eos and Moira. Let them help you, Syryn. You'll need power from every deity that's willing to come to your aid."

The mage recalled the burning sensation he had felt on his arm. Was that Moira?

"None of this is going to make any sense till I remember everything," Syryn replied. "Do you know who it is that's been talking to me?"

"Yeah, I know that bitch and a few others who have been sent to muddle your senses and kill you. She's the reason the voice in your head is gone."

"Who-" Syryn felt a warm drop of blood flow down his nose. A bout of dizziness hit him but when Seth snapped his fingers, the world righted itself.

"You can thank me later," Seth told him. "Here's what I need you to know, Syryn. Your enemies are growing desperate because Rowan is winning. They're breaking the rules, hurting themselves to hurt you."

Syryn wiped his bloody nose with the back of his hand, more confused than ever. Why couldn't Seth tell him these things after he remembered? It was very hard to connect the dots though he had all this new information. 

"Syryn, focus on me." Seth was leaning into his space and staring right into his eyes. "I will send you into a deep sleep that will last for many years. And when you wake up, I might no longer be here. So-"

"Why? Where will you go?" Syryn abruptly asked.

"That isn't important, Syryn. Worry about yourself," Seth firmly told him. "You're at the centre of a war, the scale of which you do not comprehend."

Altaire was an unobtrusive presence who was listening in with fascination. It was like watching a dramatic play between two mentally ill people, him being no better because he was lapping up every word and revelation like it was the golden truth.

"Why are all of you suddenly telling me these things now?! Am I going crazy?! Cause I think I am."

Altaire felt the same. The food was getting cold and he was hungry but what was the temptation of food when he had bigger things to worry about.

"I told you, Syryn. They're breaking the rules! So am I!"

"And Rowan?" The mage asked. "Is he playing by the rules?"

Seth nodded. "He has to. He's a mortal. Rowan can't break the rules. If he does then this all ends prematurely and the both of you lose."

It wasn't fair that Rowan had to play by the rules while everyone else got to break them. "Can you at least tell me this then, Seth, did Rowan kill me like that entity told me he did?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

The way Seth looked at him made Syryn uncomfortable. "It was the merciful thing to do. That's why Rowan killed you."

Seth's words were as heavy as boulders that crushed Syryn's spirit. He didn't want the truth anymore.

"You have a long and difficult war ahead of you," Seth told him. "Until now, the players have all been waiting for you to remember the truth, Syryn. And when you do, your enemies will no longer stay their hand."

The mage was stricken by a sense of helpless anger. He was better off being lied to than having the truth.

"I've lost my godhood and I am not long for this world or even the next," Seth dropped a shocking revelation on his listeners. "I won't be there to protect you when you wake up."

"Are you dying?" Altaire interrupted for the first time since Seth began talking. How could a god die? Weren't they immortal?

"No," Seth replied with a glance his way. "But I will die. Kindness will kill me."

Seth was speaking in riddles again. Syryn stood up and began pacing the room because he was being driven insane.

"I have one blessing I can bestow on you. Will you accept it?"

The mage stood and faced Seth. "Why must you die?" He didn't know the man but was still upset by the thought of knowing he would be gone.

"My death will not be in vain, Syryn," a small smile warmed Seth's cold face. "It will be my final gift to you." The shapeshifter raised a hand and cupped Syryn on the cheek. "Will you accept my blessing, Syryn?"

"Yes.."

Seth gently laid his palm over Syryn's face and a mark burned where he was touched.

"There," Seth softly declared. A silver crescent appeared between Syryn's brows but he couldn't see it. "Now you will sleep, young one."

The mage swayed on his feet like he was drugged. When he fell forward, Seth caught him in his arms and carried him to bed.

"Altaire," Seth called to the silent brooding man who tilted his head upwards to face the breathtaking demigod.

"Yes."

"You have paid the dues for the arrogance of your youth. Do you wish to be freed from your affliction?"

Altaire was struck dumb by Seth's words. He had told not a single soul about it so it wasn't possible for the shapeshifter to know about it unless he really was what he claimed to be.

"No," he replied after finding his bearings. "I'm resigned to what I've done to myself. It reminds me every day of my immortality and foolishness."

When the love of his life was poisoned by an enemy, the alchemist had made a vow that he would find the antidote to her suffering. In his supreme self-confidence, Altaire had deliberately polluted himself with her blood. He had been arrogant enough to believe that anything was possible if he applied his genius to it.

Now she was long dead and he remained alive, carrying the poison whose cure remained elusive. His lesson in humility would be reinforced everytime he drank the draught that kept him alive to see another day. No, Altaire didn't need any healing. 

The shapeshifter dipped his head and touched the white mask that covered Altaire's face. "This thing is just another tool you use to keep everyone at a distance."

"It suits my nature."

Seth retracted his hand. He couldn't force his power on a man who didn't want it. "You have made up your mind and I cannot change it."

"Thank you for offering to help me, Seth. I wish to remain this way till I die." 

The shapeshifter found himself surprised again by the resilience and depth of emotions he saw from such fragile humans. His stint in the mortal world had been an eye opening experience that he was grateful for.

"Only death should be permanent, not the mistakes of your youth.. I hope you're able to find the peace you're looking for, Altaire."

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