Requiem 28
3.8k 4 121
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Apexus was soaring through the sky. Aclysia had explained everything to him, everything she knew about what was happening and everything that she had been told. Something inside the slime had tensed up throughout the entire explanation, then finally torn when she had finished. All he had told her to do was to search for Reysha.

Even though the metal fairy shouted questions after him, attempted to follow, her beloved was not answering and moving too fast to be caught up with. Soon, he had left her behind - and Apexus found no part of him that had the luxury to feel bad about treating her like that.

A cocktail of emotions was boiling within the chimeric creature. It was a new mixture, a new feeling, he didn’t get to discover a lot of those anymore and he did not appreciate this one whatsoever.

The odd thing was that none of the emotions on their own were anything new. Anger: Apexus had been angry before. When Aclysia and Reysha had been fighting constantly, he had snapped. Foolish: Apexus had been foolish before. Numerous times, in small and big ways, he had looked like an idiot. Resigned, resentful: Apexus had been both of these things before. When he had gotten hunted across the entire leaf for simply existing, he had ample reason for those things.

Right now, he felt angrier than ever before, like a bigger idiot than ever before and more resentful than ever before. He had heard the word for this feeling and it was the second strongest thing he had ever felt, a very close second. Betrayal.

Apexus headed straight towards the charred scar in the forest where the hellfire had raged. He didn’t have to look long for the person he was looking for. The old man in the plain brown robe, leaving behind a smouldering glade and the ruins of a metal fence that seemed to have exploded between the pillars.

Loudly landing in the canopies of a nearby tree, the slime already had his old mentor’s attention. Well, the attention of the other person sharing the same body. Apotho looked up with a grin that was an artwork of ridicule, a paternal smile, missing all of the benevolence and warmth normally associated with that and replaced with belligerence.

It took what little of Apexus’ reason wasn’t buried under the cesspool of emotions to not jump at the Warlock immediately. Although everything he knew and everything Aclysia told him pointed towards Apotho being unable to suck the life out of the slime like he had out of other humanoids, he wasn’t going to attack someone the Cardinal, who moved even faster than the Hunter that had ‘killed’ Apexus, was afraid off.

“You lied to me,” Apexus instead hissed, from his safe place out of reach. Continuing to walk, Apotho started laughing, finding the slime’s impotent rage to be the greatest joke he had heard in a decade. “YOU LIED TO ME!” the slime found himself shouting, hands clawing into the forever fresh bark of the tree. “With your eyes and your mouth… lied to me… you lied to me!”

Suddenly, the laughter stopped, the old man turned and looked up to the slime, his eyes glistening with rising tears. “I am so… so sorry, Apexus… you’re right, I will head back into my containment and let it be repaired.” One blink, and the cruel mockery of a fatherly expression was back. “Is that what you wish to hear, you hideous creature?”

It was remarkable how a mere change in tone and body language could change so much about a person. Apotho, however, had perfect control over both, and had learned how to imitate his splintered self completely. “You lied to me…” Apexus didn’t know what he expected from repeating this statement over and over again, he felt helpless, could only jump to the next tree to follow the Warlock. He wanted answers, answers he didn’t want to hear. Everything about these feelings made him feel like his core was getting hollowed out and the resulting vacuum threatened to make the remaining walls implode.

“And it was so wonderfully easy,” Apotho mused, his self-pleased attitude only more irritating. “You were the second-best puppet I could have asked for. No, actually, you were the best puppet I could have asked for. Innocent, never betrayed before, with something you wanted and looking at a face you trusted. I expected you to be at least a little more questioning, but you must have convinced yourself that I was the one thing that could never deceive you. I mean, what else did you have?”

Just like that the Warlock began to laugh again. The cackling echoed through the nearby treeline, only to eventually be replaced by loud coughing, as the old age took its toll. His grey hair waves as his head shook with the violent spasms.

“Apexus…” a wailing whimper rung out, unmistakeably Gizmo. Too annoyed to feel the frailness of his own body first-hand, Apotho had simply shoved his alter-ego into the leading position until the fit subsided. “I couldn’t stop him… I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

The slime now felt another emotion. Sadness, unfathomable sadness and regret. Not only did he now have first-hand confirmation that his mentor was succumbing to the malevolent being inside him, Apexus himself had also failed. Failed to recognize what was going on and what consequences it could have. What price would be paid was still to be seen.

“Don’t stain my face with your useless tears,” Apotho effortlessly took the reins back, growling as he blinked those pestering drops away before they could harass his sight further. “You know, you were my best puppet, but Reysha was a wonderful ally,” the Warlock walked a long step forwards, crossing a hole in the grass. “With her, I could be completely honest about my intentions. Not that I didn’t still make her dance on my strings.”

Apexus growled as he took to the air, and had to fight against the resurfacing urge to jump at the Warlock. Many things could be said about the slime, but not that he was a slow learner. From the shape of his original body to his fundamental instincts, all of the slime had been made to evolve. Especially when it was something so practical and essential to survival as discarding naivety. Even more cautious because of how recent his mistakes were, he held back.

“The potions I handed her,” Apotho giggled as he gleefully shook his head. “Ah, low-quality as it is, but a Remorseless Brew is nothing to be underestimated, you know? It finely cuts away everything, except for the one most urgent wish a person has. Amplifies it, until nothing can stop a person in fulfilling their mission but death. With good ingredients, I could have altered her memory permanently for the duration of those events. Could have made her forget them or make it so she wouldn’t be able to discern the horrors she had wrought for a while.” He grinned so wide that his teeth showed. “As it is, she will come face first with her own sins in a while. Who knows, maybe she’ll break under it, like my weaker half has?”

Apexus leapt off the branch he was resting on. The mistake appeared to him immediately when he saw the raw anticipation in Apotho’s eyes. Moments before he could collide with the Warlock, the slime’s wing beat with fervent intensity, bringing him back into the air. Where he would have been a moment later… nothing appeared. Much to the Warlock’s own surprise, although he hid it so well that Apexus barely saw any of it.

To assure himself of his power, Apotho turned to a wildcat that was watching these happening from the nearby underbrush. It wasn’t stealthy enough to elude the Warlock’s gaze, and an arc of red lightning struck the animal, only to return in a green colour. Lifeforce spilled into Apotho, a miserable amount. Animals weren’t a good supply of humanoid lifeforce, their potential was too limited. This was especially true when looking at the vast Level difference between the Warlock and the creatures of this Safe Leaf.

He could have been draining energy from woodland critter for an entire year, and would still barely reverse his age. No, he needed something stronger and more fitting. For the moment, it was enough to know that he still had his powers. ‘Which begs the question why I cannot hurt him,’ Apotho thought, having the obvious answer inside him, dying, cowering, suppressed, but still present, ‘I best avoid goading him into an attack then.’

Annoyed, the Warlock clicked his tongue. With more of his power returned, he could have plucked that pesky freak of creation out of the sky like it was nothing – unique organism or not. His desire to find out what Apexus really was was only trumped by his annoyance towards past disobedience.

“You stay up there,” Apotho mocked, giving himself confident and walking along, the trees becoming scarcer the closer they got to Heralry. “Watch as I tear down your last hope,” he announced, as he suddenly stopped and looked up a cliff. It was the same cliffside that housed the cave that Apexus had hid in in the past. A cliff on top of which the Cardinal stood, watching the Warlock approach from the vantage point.

“You will try to tear me down, Voidspark, but I have the Gods on my side!” Remezan declared.

“Your gods taking sides doesn’t matter, their blessings won’t save you, only their direct help would,” Apotho shouted back, his voice now devoid of any amusement, only hatred present. “I have reached the power of the gods and was denied the privilege I deserved. They didn’t even have the guts to kill me when they made me fail. All because they’re too afraid to wield the immortality they were given!”

Remezan didn’t answer the blasphemy, only raised his hand. A golden spear appeared in his hand, a long silver edge curving straight out of the divinely sparkling metal. Although its brilliance was temporary, from the metal to the gems covering it, its was beautiful.

Apexus didn’t know what to do and settled on a protrusion of the cliff, resigned to do nothing, for the moment. Maybe he could do something eventually, but for the moment, he was doomed to be helpless and watch.

121