Serpent

Subject: Mortimer | Classif.: Sirath

Long and narrow, the tunnel wound like a slithering snake frozen in time. Abandoned by history and those who built it. Its only company was the lights spaced out evenly throughout its hollow body. The same artificial lights that adorned the walls of most of The Depths.

Despite being mostly uninhabited, the lights still shone even in the absence of humans. Electronic in nature, yet functioning without cable or wire. Electricity flowed behind the glass, but from where it came, hardly anyone remembered. These inventions predated the current Age, older than The Surface and Immortals alike. Tim himself wasn’t certain, the answer changing depending on which dead historian was consulted.

Nobody questioned their existence. The reason behind their creation. They were always there from the beginning. A constant. And as long as they fulfilled their function, nobody would ask, “Why?” Because those who did were already long gone.

Tim relied on these ancient lights to decipher the map right in front of him. A large panel on the tunnel wall, hanging by the entrance where he parked the car. Whoever came up with the map was seriously outdated. The winding branches and offshoots within have changed more times than he could remember. Still, the map offered a general idea of what to expect in the direction he was headed. Up.

With the only other way to The Mids sealed off by the Greerian Military, the maze ahead was his only other option. His eyes strained, trying to make out the words on the map, each letter more translucent from the last. Even after flicking his lighter open, the tiny flame was not enough to cast away the illegibility. The faded colors and fonts remained hidden for centuries, refusing to be brought out by the light.

“Give me that,” Lynn demanded, her open palm expecting his lighter. Her eyes extended the bare minimum of courtesy, as if questioning why she didn’t snatch it from him in the first place.

Maybe she’d have better luck, he thought. His eyesight might be deteriorating due to age, after all.

But when he handed her his lighter, she turned around and left. Tim was too stunned to speak, his jaw left hanging, waiting to be picked up.

She hopped off the platform, crossed the empty road, and climbed up the other end. There, on the dusty tiles, lay a bunch of logs she had chopped up with her sword, encircled by rock and stone. The lighter became the last piece of the puzzle, breathing life into the other pieces as they formed a campfire.

Lynn dangled the lighter from her fingertips. The lid and the case jingling, taunting its owner to come retrieve it. One side of her lip curled upward. Tim felt like he was looking at a snake. Unable to be bothered anymore, he joined her by the campfire, wanting to be done with this once and for all.

But he was bothered. Not by the provocation in front of him, but by the silhouette at the entrance of the tunnel. Before he got on the other platform, a creature appeared at the tunnel’s opening several feet away. A Demonelk. Fully grown, about the size of a car.

Under its massive weight, it limped. Knees bent, hooves uncertain of where they belonged. Its thick, woolly fur swayed as it wobbled while looking for its footing. But the eyeless sockets of its skull gazed not on the ground. They pierced right through Tim.

The Demonelk’s bizarre behavior left him perplexed. Skittish and timid, they usually stayed away from people. And from his diagnosis at a glance, this one wasn’t injured or sick in any way. It was as if the monster was trying to speak, its mandibles clacking against the hinges. Jawbones moving, but without sound.

Lynn dismissed the lowly lifeform. “Just kill it and be done with it.”

“Wait.”

From within its hollow skull, something emerged. Steel. A metal bar protruded from its throat. Straight from a nightmare. Its mandibles detached, like a python swallowing its prey in reverse. The Demonelk choked as an unknown force pulled the rest of the foreign object out from between its clattering teeth.

That wasn’t a bar. It was the barrel of a rifle. The creature coughed up an entire hunting rifle.

It got up on its hind legs, twisting into an unnatural position as if it were a piece of cloth being wrung. Meat, bones, skin, crushed and emulsified by an invisible blender. The paste of flesh and blood vanished, leaving behind Mia.

“Oops,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I dropped it.” Picking up her weapon, she asked, “Was that scary?”

Tim needed alcohol. Not to drink, but to wash his eyes. He had never seen his daughter transform into anything non-human before. That would explain why she struggled to maintain balance on four legs, but concealing a weapon inside her esophagus? Where in the world did she learn that? Definitely not from him, that was for sure.

Realizing Lynn wore the same stunned expression on her face, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of shame as Mia’s parent. On second thought, maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe she assumed it was the girl’s mother who was responsible. Then again, maybe it was best he came in clean about his relationship with Mia.

After all, he wouldn’t be able to take care of her forever.

Being met with stunned silence, Mia’s awkwardness could be heard as she said, “I’ll just… go back to hunting.”

Her steps echoed through the tunnel. They were loud. Painfully loud.

“... Kids these days, a-amiright?” Tim tried to laugh it off. And from Lynn’s reaction, he failed. His sheepish false laughter dragged out at the end, sounding more like a whimper.

Sitting on the floor next to her, there was a large gap between them, the empty space filled by the crackling of the campfire. The soothing murmur of the burning wood served as the only source of relief for the strained tension in the air. White noise that mellowed an otherwise oppressive silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He cracked the silence with two words. But no pressure was lifted. Lynn’s judgmental gaze kept it mounting. Her lack of response was deliberate. Measured. Like a difficult interviewer trying to keep a potential candidate speaking. A painful memory that resurfaced in Tim’s mind after centuries.

He pushed through with a sigh. The unease in his heart was forcefully dispelled. No longer did his speech sound half-mumbled and slurred.

“I didn’t know you were Glacies’s sister.”

“That woman IS NOT my sister. Never was. Never will be.” The venom in her voice was thick. Not even Tim could detoxify it. “And don’t try to act like you know me.”

“I don’t. Which is why I find it strange the Council sent you, of all people. I thought your sis—” Seeing her death stare, he corrected himself. “—The queen was the second most popular, behind Vita.”

“The Council is divided.”

“As they’ve always been.”

“I don’t expect a centuries-old Exiled to keep up with the times, but things have changed now that Vita is gone. The Reformists have gained a lot more ground over the years, and with her out of the picture, they want you back.”

“Reformists?”

“They want to start a Crown War. Treasonous serpents, the lot of them. Perfect company for you.”

“I want nothing to do with the Council.”

“You expect me to believe that?” What? You wish to catch Vita’s murderer out of the goodness of your heart? Don’t make me laugh.” Lynn scoffed, her spite growing ever sharper. “I know what you’re really plotting, traitor.”

“... You do? Then you’ll look after Mia for me?”

“What?”

“I intend to die. That’s what I’m really plotting,” he admitted. The sheer casualness in his voice made Lynn question her hearing. “If it makes you happy, I’ll even act as bait for the murderer. I want him to kill me.”

“Y-You’re lying.”

“All I want is a normal life for Mia. Just a normal, happy life. And with your authority, Princess, I think you can arrange that.”

“What makes you think I’ll agree to such a preposterous request?! Your child is a menace!”

“She’s… not my child.”

It pained him to say that. As much as he wanted to be her “Dad,” she would never find happiness with him. Only despair. If there was one lesson he learned after living for over a thousand years, it was that. As long as he lived, there would be no peace for the people he loved.

Lynn was quiet. She had seen the eyes of people with nothing to lose countless times. But this? This was the look of a man who had everything and would still give it up. A father. In that moment, she no longer saw the traitorous Lord of Death. But a man broken by life. Someone who, despite all the love he had for his daughter, understood that he did not have the means to give the best for her.

Taking a deep breath, Tim explained, “Mia was abandoned by her real parents. Thrown into The Wishing Well and into The Depths. I found her. Alive, but barely.”

“...”

“Look, I know I’m being selfish, and I’m asking a lot, but I’d like for her to live on The Surface. Without undergoing the Rite of Immortality.”

“That’s not possible. She’ll be the only one growing old. An outcast.”

“Her Gift lets her control her appearance. I know she doesn’t look like it, but she’s actually 14. It’ll take a bit of time, but she’ll fit right in with the others. Please.”

“Even if I were to believe all your claims, you’re asking the wrong person. What’s stopping me from casting her aside once you’re dead?”

“Because… if what I heard about the Shield of House Veranos is true, then I think you know better than anyone else what it feels like to be abandoned.”

“...”

“I’m not asking you to be her parent or to adopt her into your House. I just want her to live a normal life on The Surface, where she truly belongs.”

“... I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

Lynn was startled when he prostrated himself, forehead touching the tiled floor. Even though it was a common sight for her in royal ceremonies she was forced to attend, she clearly did not expect the same man who spat on her when they first met to offer such reverence.

“Stop that.” Her tone was a tad bit softer than it usually was, but still as sharp as ever. “I’m on a mission. My status as a royal should not be flaunted so casually.”

“Oh really?” He got up, also returning to his usual self. “You do know the Greerian Military was after us because they wanted to kidnap ‘the Princess,’ right?”

“A Reformist scheme, no doubt. Actually, now that I think about it…” She paused before another sinister smile formed on her face. “Why don’t you kill all of them before you get yourself killed?”

“That’s not what we agreed on.”

“It’s only fitting that traitors be dealt with by fellow traitors.” She opened her palm, offering his lighter that she had been holding onto. “... Don’t you think?”

He snatched it from her hand. “If I could kill the Council members, I’d already have done that way before you were born.”

“Tch.”

She might have clicked her tongue, but the displeasure she wore on her face was not hers alone.

-----

Subject: Mia | Classif.: Barzakh

Mia stood by the entrance of the tunnel, her back hidden by the wall. Having heard the entire conversation, her body started to shapeshift as tears streamed down her cheeks. She bit down on her own hand, trying to muffle her crying. A silent scream. Tears mixed into the blood she drew from how hard she sank her teeth in.

And yet, even after she transformed, the wound on her hand was still there. As were the tears on that unfamiliar face. Because no matter what form she took, the pain of being abandoned would never go away.