The Night Of Swords

"No! You don't get to just leave me here!" He struggles against the ropes again, desperate. They chafe at his skin but don't give.

 

"...this place is my skin and bones. No one is ever out of my sight. No one is ever alone."

 

Mica spits at her, missing by a wide margin. "Just fucking get me out of here! You're in charge here, you're not powerless or - or -" Tears start to roll down his face.

"I'm so scared," he admits. "I'm scared. I don't know what they're going to do to me. I don't know if I'm going to survive this."

 

"...you'll survive. I'll ensure it." She smoothes his hair back. "...but I refuse to take this from Mutt. The little one has been in my care for a long time. If this is how they want to deal with what you both are... they need that opportunity."

Her fingers move to Mica's chest, and she smiles. "...you're unable to defend yourself. If Mutt comes near killing you, their life is forfeit. And once they're done..."

She frowns. "Well. You'll be with me for awhile. I'll put you back together."

 

"Don't touch me." His voice shakes, but he barely notices it now. "Get away from me. You're worse than they are."

 

"...I could set your nerves on fire. I could make every moment drag out a hundredfold." She doesn't move her hand. "You know you're only half a person, don't you?"

 

"I'm still more of a person than you are," he tells her. "If you were tied up in front of me, I'd help get you free. Stop fucking touching me."

 

"No. I'm working," she snaps, turning jagged, cubist edges to her features. "I'm going to make sure you survive, I'm looking at your pieces!"

 

"You're supposed to look with your eyes," he says. "Not your hands. And you could have asked first, or said something."

 

"Why would I do that?" Her lips curl into an irked pout. "I don't need permission to continue my work."

 

"....It doesn't matter. Someone like you wouldn't understand."

 

"...mh. well. I'll leave you to it, then. Mutt will wake soon.'

 

Right. Mutt will wake soon. And then - and then -

And then things will happen that he'll have no control over. No one is going to help him through this. No one is going to free him. He's going to hurt, and he's going to suffer, and it's going to seem like forever. But he won't give up, and he won't die. Arie and Ethan are waiting for him. He told Arie that he'd be back soon, and he has to keep his word.

He has to survive, for them.

"Then leave," he tells the Queen, and closes his eyes, preparing himself for the pain he knows will follow her exit.

 

She watches, eyes glowing, then presses a kiss to his forehead.

"You walk with My Blessing. You Will Live. You Will Break. You Will Become Whole Once More." The words jangle in the air, like a promise, like a knot of fate strangling him. "...I will not allow you to die, and I will send you home, in time. There are worse things that could happen. Worse things you could see."

She stands, fading away, until all that's left are the stones of her eyes.

"The two of you are cut from the same cloth, after all. Your soul is their soul. Their soul is yours...."

The gems glow bright enough that Mica can see them through his closed eyelids.

"Just think of what made Mutt the way they are now, after all."

They blink away to nothing.

 

Just think of what made Mutt the way they are now...

You got to go home...

He did get to go home, and he doesn't remember going into the woods and coming back but he knows that he did. And Arie was right - and she might have hated him, but at least he had her in his life. And Ethan, too -

And Mutt....well, he doesn't know about Mutt. But they didn't have a family, not in the way Mica got to have a family. They never even got to see Ethan, never got to - when did he go into the woods? was it before he started school?

They never got a chance.

Maybe he does deserve this.

--

It's not long before Mutt is back to cutting away happily at his wings. They take their time, more interested in pain than in speed.

Hours pass. Days pass. Mica cries until he's sure there are no tears left in him, and then cries more. The knife gets closer and closer to the roots of his wings, to his skin. Sometimes Mutt spends hours silently tearing at his wings. Sometimes they talk, telling Mica so much about their life that he's not sure if he's more prisoner or confidante.

Arie. Ethan.

Mica doesn't talk, doesn't beg to be let go. He tests the ropes every chance he gets, hoping to find a weakness.

Arie. Ethan. He has to live, to see them again. He promised.

The knife hits a nerve and Mica screams.

 

Mutt grins. They'd been wondering how long it would take to get the thief to scream. They reposition the knife so they can cut at the other wing; time to see how long it takes for him to scream about this one.

 

Mica pulls blindly against the ropes through his tears, crying out as they rub against his wrists - as they come off his wrists and he rolls to the side, wincing as his tattered wing touches the ground, opening his eyes to see the knife coming down at him -

 

Mutt is staring, panicking, trying to get a hold on the thief again. They've forgotten they're still holding the knife; they reach out to grab the thief by the shoulders -

 

The world freezes as the knife plunges in.

Mutt is briefly aware of something going on.

Then everything goes still and blank.

The Queen surveys the room, then sighs, gently pulling Mutt back away from Mica, cleaning the knife and settling it in its' sheath, positioning Mutt five feet away, so they'll have to think before they act again... Then reaches into their chest and jerks out a tiny scrap of Mutt, a strange, ephermal thing. The passage of her hand leaves no mark, no injury but for the tiny bit of essence pulled from within their chest, and she hums, carefully putting the scrap into a little jar before heading over to Mica, expression annoyed as she crouches, inspecting the damage.

She pushes her fingers into it, inspecting the depth.

Mnnngh.

A fatal wound, for sure.

Tsk.

She shouldn't bother making promises to toys... no matter. What's done is done.

She flicks her fingers at the wound, which closes up with the motion, then plunges her hand into his chest, grips firmly, and pulls out his soul... It's a thing full of fight.

That's good.

She motions for the little jar to rise from her hip as she pulls a little scrap off, dropping it into the jar, then covers the paired scraps of Mutt and Mica and rattles them in the jar until they stick together, forming a tiny little orb of essence, of personhood. She inspects it, then nods, pulling it from the jar and pushing Mica's soul inside, trapping it quickly with one hand as it struggles and fights to escape her grasp.

Her captive well in hand, she crouches, holding the bit of undefined, unshaped soul in her hand, then pushes it into Mica's empty body.

She waits for the soul to take root in the body - it should, after all. Small though it is, it's still part of it...

She smiles proudly as her new creation's chest heaves, and kisses its' forehead.

"There you are."

She stands, holding the jar in her hands, and vanishes once more.

The air is suddenly alive again as time surges back into the room.

 

Mutt is just a little too unbalanced, and they stumble and then fall. Something just happened...hadn't they been closer to the thief? The thief had - oh! They pull themselves upright and look over at him.