forum Lost and Together (Closed)

Started January 13, 2023 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

@Serpentess Mythrius and Saul

Saul Silva had never been more devastated in his entire life than he was right at this moment. Everything in his world was coming crashing down around him in the worst way possible. Blurred memories played on repeat in his head. He couldn't stop thinking of them… the words that were said… the things that had been done… that he had done. It was too much all at once. He couldn't handle it.

So he'd stolen a gateway ring and escaped to the First World.

Saul had no clue where he was except that there was a bar just a few buildings down from where he's created the gateway. So that's where he was now, raising another beer to his lips and taking a long swallow. At least the alcohol was able to make him feel looser. The tension in his shoulders was starting to fade away. The memories were slowly burying themselves in his mind. And this was all only after two beers. Imagine how great he would feel after six.

His eyelids were heavy, but the Specialist forced them open. Even with the alcohol, there was no way he could fall asleep here. There was too much noise surrounding the place. There was music pumping from the dancefloor behind him and the clicking of pool balls immediately followed by someone whooping with joy. Not to mention the conversations buzzing from other patrons at the bar.

But both stools beside Saul were empty. He supposed he didn't look very friendly right now, nor did he feel it. He only wanted to drink, so that's what he did. The bottle in his hand was finished, and he signaled the bartender to get him another.

Mythrius sat in a dark corner of the bar, nursing a glass of wine. It wasn’t her first choice of drink, but it wasn’t as bad as the rest of the options. The other drinks left a foul taste in her mouth, and, being what she actually was, it was very difficult for her to get drunk.

As she sat there, she eyed her human skin. It was strange, even alien. She felt naked, vulnerable, without her scales and claws and fangs. But, she was far safer as a human than her true self right now. And, to call to her father was to bring his wrath upon innocents. Her father, Lucitius, was prone to overreacting when he didn’t understand the situation. And, hers was… complicated.

Some time later, after her fifth glass of wine and no effect on her mental state, Mythrius noticed a strange man sitting alone at the bar. Instinctively, she knew he was a warrior. He had the stance, and the demeanor, and the haunted look. Something was eating at him, and he was trying to drown himself in alcohol to escape it. But, he was the only one she’d seen so far that might be able to help her.

So, Mythrius finished her glass of wine, then subtly conjured a handful of cash to pay for the drinks. She’d been around humans enough to know the basics of their money system, even though it really made no sense to her. Then, she called to the waiter, and paid him what she owed.

Afterward, Mythrius stood, adjusting her elegant and revealing grey dress, and headed over to the man. She boldly sat down next to him, watching him for a moment.

“I apologize for interrupting you, yet you seem to be someone that could help me,”she said softly, a thick gutteral accent in her voice.

The bartender set another bottle in front of Saul, and the man brought it to his lips without hesitation. He wished he could be drunk forever and not have to worry about anything for the rest of his life. But that was a ridiculous wish. He was sure that his friends would already be searching the Otherworld for him. They were likely already worried when he didn't turn up anywhere at Alfea, but he wondered if they would even consider the possibility of him stealing a gateway ring. Likely when all the other options ran out. They'd eventually come here to find him.

Saul took another long swallow as someone seated themself on the stool next to him. He didn't spare the person a glance, and he barely even realized when they started speaking to him. Dammit, he thought, exhaling sharply at the request. Why does everyone think I can help them somehow? What do I look like, a godsdammed mercenary?

Well, actually he supposed he might look a bit of the part, given he was still wearing his Specialist armor. He hadn't bothered to take it off before accessing the gateway. It had been barely a thought then. He'd only wanted to get away as fast as possible. Maybe that was why no one was sitting beside him. Except now…

Saul finally looked over and was a bit surprised at what he saw. The woman sitting beside him was tall even when seated. She had a good two, maybe three, inches on him. Her hair was the reddest color Saul had ever seen in his life. And then there was her dress.

The Specialist looked back to his beer and scoffed quietly. "Sorry. I can't help," he muttered before drinking again.

His exhale showed his refusal before he even said anything. Mythrius quickly realized how stupid she probably seemed, asking an aloof warrior for help when all he clearly wanted was to be left alone. She was indeed a fool.

She sighed when he finally looked at her and officially turned her away. When had she last asked someone for help? She couldn’t remember. Maybe that was why she was already so horrible at it.

“Is there any way you might reconsider? I…”she trailed off, wondering how she could convince him that she wasn’t just some woman wanting to pester him for no reason.

After a moment, she noticed his scent, its strangeness. This man was no ordinary man, nor was he even native to Earth. He wasn’t lost though.

“I am in a complicated situation, and I cannot call to those I trust for help. It would be too great a risk. Yet, ‘tis difficult for me to seek someone else, since… mine situation is esoteric, at best,”she said quietly.

She gently reached over to him, as if to grab his hand, but she instead subtly morphed her index and middle fingers, letting her claws and scales brush against his skin. It was a risky move, but Mythrius was more certain now than before that this man could be of great help to her.

“I beg you,”she added, her expression pleading him to reconsider.

Saul heard the sigh, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt. But then it was gone. Really, he needed to stop feeling so sorry for everyone else and feel sorry for himself for once. For everything he'd lost, everything that was taken from him. He needed to acknowledge the pain instead of burying it under hours of training and battle.

His grip on the bottle tightened as the woman continued to press him. Fine. He would hear her out if she was that desperate. He'd still likely say no.

His steely grey eyes cut to her and narrowed as she described her situation. "Oh really?" he muttered, slurring his words together as he continued to drink without care. "And why is it 'too great a risk' to get people who you actually trust instead of some stranger at the bar?"

But something about her speech clued him in. This wasn't a normal First Worlder. They usually didn't speak like that. Well, he hadn't been here in a while… maybe they did? But just listening in on a few other conversations quickly changed his mind. She was definitely not from here.

Saul was about to swat her hand away when suddenly it wasn't her skin brushing his. It was claws and scales, but when he blinked again, she was pulling a natural human hand away. What the fuck? Was he really that drunk already? But no. He hadn't just felt it. He had seen the transformation. And the way she'd orchestrated it, it was for his eyes only. She had to know he wasn't a First Worlder either. And she must've been truly desperate to reveal whatever shapeshifting ability that she'd just showed him.

His eyes again studied her, but this time with sharper alertness, despite the alcohol. "Before I say yes, what exactly is it that you need my help doing?" Not a 'yes'… but not another hard 'no.'

Mythrius hesitated at his question. She looked away breifly, then took a deep breath before looking back at him.

“Because if I call to them, then too many will get hurt. Too many that do not deserve it. I do not wish that,”she said.

Mythrius watched his reaction carefully, worried that she’d just made a mistake. And, when his eyes looked at her with a sharper gaze, she knew that she was committed now. Thankfully, he didn’t turn hostile.

“I… I am being chased, hunted. And… the one who is hunting me was once an ally… more than that, actually. Yet, I angered him, and now he wishes me dead. He also happens to be a crime lord, and… similar to me,”she explained. She lifted her seemingly human fingers to clarify what she meant at the end.

“I would try to handle this on mine own, yet I have never been foolish enough to get in this situation before. And, he knows me too well,”she added.

Saul frowned at her explanation. Who the hell were these "trusted allies" of hers? It made him wary. And when she continued to explain her situation, his concern and confusion both increased. Who the hell was this woman? And who was chasing her? Some crime lord she used to be friends with? Or more? None of this made sense, and she hadn't told him what exactly she wanted of him yet.

"And what the fuck do you want me to do about it?" he muttered, finishing off the bottle in his hands. Without needing to ask, the bartender placed another one in front of him. Saul scoffed under his breath, but he didn't decline it.

Mythrius hesitated at his question. She tried to contain herself, to maintain her composure, but her hands started to shake.

“I… I know not. I am desperate. He… I cannot get close to him, because he knows everything about me. He knows what I would do, what I wish to do, and how to make it all fail, that I will be forced back to his side as a slave. I cannot do that again. Yet… I cannot… bring mineself to kill him, if I even had the chance. Yet… I know not another way out. And, ‘tis only him. No one else bothered me. They were too afraid to do such,”Mythrius said, her voice quiet and shaky.

After a moment though, Mythrius started to doubt her decision to ask this man. He wanted to be left alone, that much was clear. She should’ve left him be.

“I apologize. I… I did not wish to bother you. I… I will go,”she stammered.

Mythrius stood and started walking away, trying not to burst into helpless tears. She didn’t know what to do, how to proceed. And, she had revealed too much to a man that didn’t seem to be of the friendly type. She might have to call on her father. But, Lucitius would destroy everything in his path. Mythrius only wanted him gone. He was the only threat, not his organization.

Saul's expression was like he'd been slapped in the face. This woman sounded like she was in a relationship that was eerily similar to the one Farah had with Rosalind before their fallout after Aster Dell. Except Farah hadn't been a slave to Rosalind, merely her protégé. But that had been enough for the older mind fairy to manipulate Saul's best friend into doing Rosalind's dirty work.

His reflexes kicked in quickly, and before the mysterious woman was out of arm's length, he reached his hand out and gripped her upper arm gently but firmly. Even with the alcohol dulling his senses, Saul's Specialist training was still sharp.

"Wait," he said shortly. His eyes cut around at the patrons near them as if taking in their appearances and assessing them for danger. Then he studied the woman again, making sure to keep his eyes away from the generous neckline that dipped into her cleavage. Then he leaned toward her ear to speak into it slowly and quietly. "I'll help you. But before I do, I need to know more. Perhaps we could go somewhere more private to speak."

(I didn’t even realize the situational similarities until now, lmao!)

Mythrius froze when the man grabbed her, her entire body tensing. It was quite obvious now, particularly to the man holding her arm, that she was built out of sheer muscle.

She quickly took a deep breath to keep herself from tearing the man into pieces. Then, she eyed him cautiously. When he spoke into her ear, she was relieved, but still cautious.

“I know a place,”she replied softly.

She slipped out of his grip, then headed out of the bar. She looked around for any possible stalkers, then headed toward the alley next to the building. She then glanced behind herself to make sure he was following before going into the alley. Thankfully, there was no one there, but this wasn’t the privacy Mythrius had been thinking. And, she planned to have a proper talk.

(Eerily similar… ;))
(Wait, if Quain is your Cleopatra… is Mythrius your Farah??? 😂)

Saul felt the woman tense as he held her arm, but he didn't let go. Not yet. She was strong, that much he could tell by touch alone. And her story, from what he heard, contributed to her strength too. Not to mention that she wasn't human. He was still trying to process that one.

He nodded and let her go at her mention of a place. After a moment, he paid for his drinks and followed her out into the alley. An amused scoff passed Saul's lips before he could stop it. "This is your place?" he asked before realizing that this woman had probably never been here before. And also he was still drunk. "Enlighten me," he remarked, leaning casually against the building the bar was in. His voice lowered as he asked his first question. "So why exactly does this crime lord want you dead?"

(Grin)
(Ooh… contemplative look… maybe)

Mythrius waited for the man, then huffed at his comment. She watched him for a moment, but paused at his first question.

“I have no intention of talking here,”she said quietly.

She then grabbed his arm and closed her eyes, concentrating for a very breif moment. The pair vanished in a cloud of steam, teleporting to one of her last remaining sanctuaries that he didn’t know about.

It was a lavish, circular room with stone walls and several large pools around the edges. There were a couple stone tables to the sides. Double doors were at one end of the room, with a stone bed smothered with huge feathers and dozens of pillows on the other. Blue stones were imbedded in the wall, glowing softly and giving the room a relaxing light.

“This is mine place,”she stated.

Mythrius then let go of him, heading to sit down in one of the chairs. Maroon tears welled in her eyes, and she didn’t look at the man. After a moment, she took a deep breath and wiped her eyes.

“First, introductions. Mine human name is Melissa Sa’lia,”she stated.

She took another deep breath.

“Now, for mine answer. I… I made a terrible mistake, and I cannot take it back. He will never forgive me. That is why he wishes me dead,”Mythrius explained.

Saul frowned and inclined his head to the side. What did she mean? "Then where are we to-" But before he could finish, the woman had touched his arm, and the oddest feeling overcame him. It was similar to when Farah used her magic for teleporting. It wasn't something she'd done often, but the sensation of it was unforgettable.

He closed his eyes, but then immediately opened them again to keep from collapsing. The sight of the new room around him caused him to still for a moment as he took it in. Her words reached him, and as Saul turned to reply, he noticed immediately the dark tears that pooled and how she refused to meet his gaze.

A slight frown creased his expression. "Your… human name?" he questioned, approaching her to take a seat opposite her. "I assumed you aren't human, but why don't you share with me your true name?"

The deep breaths she took didn't escape him. Being around Farah for so long, Saul had learned to be able to read other people's body language rather well. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he didn't feel it. He had already left the Otherworld to escape the fallout from the worst mistakes of his life. The First World would be the perfect place to forget. But now, he was somewhere completely different and being dragged back into the fray.

"Sorry. My name is Saul. Saul Silva. I do wish to help you, though I'm still trying to bury my own demons. I understand the gravity of a situation like yours. A… very close friend of mine encountered something rather similar just recently. But I need to know exactly what it is that you want from me."

Mythrius sat down, then paused at his words, a bit flustered. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Why had she been so determined to keep to her human guise? Usually she never was. Why now?

“I… am uncertain why I am hesitant to say mine true name. Honestly, I have not been this uncertain of anything in mine life. I… I know not why,”she said timidly, staring down at the table.

She gave a very breif smile back, appreciating his attempt to reassure her, even if it didn’t help much. Then, she nodded as he spoke, committing his name to memory as well.

“I apologize then, that I had disturbed you. Yet, in a twisted sort of way, your experience with this type of situation may be what I need most,”she replied softly.

Mythrius hesitated to explain her situation, but she quickly reminded herself of who she was. Daughter of Lucitius. A powerful sorceress. Destined to be the matriarch of the Ahkrethian race, like her mother, Synthia. No one, no one, had the right to bring her down without a proper challenge! Taking a deep breath, Mythrius finally met Saul’s eyes again.

“This crime lord I spoke of, his name is Edwartiel. He is of an amphibious race that is distantly related to mine own race, and all of them are telepaths. We… we had been lovers, and for a time, we had even been considering the possibility of marriage. Yet, Edwartiel was controlling, and did not appreciate that I am normally a very stubborn woman. His sister was worse…”Mythrius paused at the mention of the sister, taking another deep breath. She hated thinking of that final day.

“As time passed, we argued more and more. Then, the last day, we had been visiting his sister. It ended with a fierce argument between the three of us. I became severely enraged, and I… trapped both of them in scolding water. Edwartiel escaped, yet his sister did not. She… she died. I had not truly meant it, yet it still happened. I ran, yet Edwartiel vowed to have mine head, to avenge his sister,”Mythrius finished.

She turned away again, her breathing shaky. Tears welled in her eyes again, but she was quick to wipe them away.

“Edwartiel will never stop hunting me. And, I am too obvious in mine natural form, both because of mine appearance and mine status. I just wish for him to stop, yet I fear only death will do such. And, I have not the heart to kill him. Nor, would I be able to anyway, as he knows me too well. I would call to mine family for help, yet mine father would destroy everything in his path, and I do not wish that. ‘Tis Edwartiel alone that is a threat to me, not his organization,”Mythrius added, helplessness in her tone.

Saul noticed how she became slightly flustered. Was it because of his line of questioning? He certainly hadn't intended to make her feel on edge. He nodded as she spoke. "It's alright. You don't have to if you're hesitant."

He then pressed his lips together at her apology. "No need," he said quietly. Though his words were few, Saul was worried that the woman was right. And as he listened to her story, his worry was confirmed. Saul leaned forward in the chair and braced his elbows on his knees before folding his fingers together.

"That all sounds… painful. I'm sorry." After he spoke, Saul internally winced. He was never as good with words as Farah was.

Mythrius sighed, still a bit flustered. His words did soothe her a bit, and she appreciated his understanding. It was frustrating, though, that she was afraid to say her own name. By the skies, why did everything have to be so complicated for her? She could barely do anything to reveal her true self without becoming paranoid now.

“I thank you for understanding. I feel like I should tell you, yet I also… ‘Tis complicated,”she said, sighing again.

Mythrius watched his reactions warily. He was a quiet man, a contemplative one. She wasn’t used to that. The only person that she’d ever known to be so quiet, but also so… steady, was Elix-Shire, her uncle. Though, Elix-Shire was also a hermit and a historian. His fighting days had been over long before Mythrius had been born, due to an old injury that had nearly killed him. She missed him, and she wanted his guidance again, but she’d have to make do for now.

She blinked at Saul’s comment, a bit confused, then irritated. Did he even care? Had he even listened to one word she’d said? And all he could say was that?

Mythrius sighed again, turning away. She badly wanted to snap at him, and was very close to doing so, but part of her understood that she really hadn’t given him any reason to care. She’d interrupted what was likely the first quiet moment he’d had in a while, begging for help like a child when he had just wanted solitude. Maybe she should’ve called Lucitius, her father. At least then she wouldn’t be acting like a lost kid in front of a man she’d only just met.

Saul noticed the way she seemed to bristle at his simple remarks to her story. "I'm sorry," he repeated with a quiet sigh. "My friend is much better with words than I am. I'm not very good at verbally expressing how I feel. She can usually read me without my having to say much, so I never had to."

He sat up straighter and shook his head. "I do want to help you, Melissa. But I need to know how exactly I can do that. I'm not experienced much with fighting anything that's… your species. No offense." Damn, he was really bad at talking. He'd definitely taken his easy relationship and communication with Farah for granted.

Mythrius turned back to him once he started speaking. His words explained much and she steadily relaxed.

She then snorted when he spoke again, not really fazed anymore by his horrible word choices. Though, hearing him call her Melissa nagged at her. She honestly didn’t really like the name. It was too… human. But, it was the best alias she had at the moment.

“I understand that. And, if you wish, I could show you mine true form, that you might gain more context. Yet, Edwartiel is, as I said previously, of a different race, even if it is similar to mine own. Unfortunately, I only know one other of his race, and he is hard to get to, particularly without alerting mine father. It would be nice if we had him here though, to better show you what Edwartiel is like,”Mythrius mentioned.

Saul was at least able to notice when the woman became more relaxed in her seat. Thankfully, his explanation had helped her understand why words weren't exactly a strong point for him.

But her offer had him hesitating. What would her 'true form,' as she called it, look like? Saul had just spent the past how many years of his life fighting against the Burned Ones. What if, for some godsforsaken reason, she looked like those horrible monsters? He and Farah had each nearly lost their lives to wounds inflicted by Burned One. And Farah still had her scar. He wouldn't be able to handle it if she looked like them at all. But the glimpse he'd seen, what she showed him in the bar, didn't resemble the charred bodies and blackened figures he'd grown to hate. And if it could help him to help her, maybe it was worth it.

So he nodded. "Yes, you can show me your true form," he agreed. "I think I'll be able to get the idea."

Mythrius noticed his hesitation and wondered if Saul was even familiar with shapeshifters, particularly reptilian ones. Or if he did have experience with them, but not in a good way. Hopefully it was the former, and not the latter. He would be ten times as hard to convince if he had a thing against reptilian shapeshifters.

His acceptance of her offer was a good start, though. Mythrius stood and moved a few feet away, taking a deep breath. She then called on her inborn ability to morph.

Within seconds, her entire body started to rapidly shed and grow, her discarded flesh disintegrating almost instantly into ash. Red and blue scales grew on most of her body, her ears became curved and pointed, and her fingers and toes grew claws. Her height grew and her mouth and jaw changed shape entirely, introducing a strange jawline, a mouthful of pointed teeth, and three pairs of fangs on her top jaw. A forked tongue flicked out of her mouth as she moaned. Finally, her dress knitted itself together, turning black and wrapping around her until it was a robe instead of a dress.

Mythrius took another deep breath once her body settled, running her clawed, scaly fingers through her hair to smooth it down a bit. She then turned back to Saul, towering over him in all her natural glory.

“This is mine natural form. If you do not know, I am of the race known as Ahkrethians. Edwartiel is of the race known as Drāgod’n Vol. They are somewhat taller than Ahkrethians, and they are usually black or grey in hue, with far more aquatic features,”Mythrius explained, her guttural, lisping accent far more obvious now.