Thirteen: Just As You Promised 

Layre and Mageus stroll about the steppes, chatting away about the curse, Anima, Centuros, all of it. None of it is left untouched. 

They sit on the grass now, Layre sitting perfectly upright, while Mageus rests his head in Layre’s lap. It was much too similar to the instance in the steppes with the creature, but this time it was out of affection, not exhaustion. Layre was gliding his fingers through Mageus’ hair mindlessly when Mageus gathered his attention effortlessly with only a few words. 

“I think it is you.” He says, and Layre tilts his head.  

“What do you mean by that? Could you be any more vague with your words?” He teases, feeling proud at the grin it gets out of Mageus.  

“I mean it is you who will break my curse.”  

“That is quite obvious, is it not? I promised you I would do so.” Layre rambles, slightly offended that Mageus seemed to need to come to that conclusion again. Mageus laughs, shoving his hand up to cover Layre’s mouth.  

“Won’t you let me speak? The patience you have is incredible, truly.” Layre blushes, embarrassed. “You are the key. With you here, I feel more like my true self each day. I feel as though the curse is unraveling itself. The creature cannot live where my affection for you grows.” 

“You just say that to tease me.” Layre laughs, finding that utterly impossible. 

Mageus sits up, face completely solemn now. “I mean it. I swear it by my heart and soul. The creature becomes weaker each day because of you.”  

“That makes no sense, Mageus. If affections weakened the creature, then surely Anima caring for you would have broken your curse by now.”  

“I feel very different affections for you than I ever will for Anima, Layre. Anima raised me, but she and I did not bond well. She raised me because she was demanded to. She did so because she feared her death would come if she did not. Anima may have wished she could be a mother to me, but she was not. She simply kept me alive.” Mageus explains, and Layre feels his eyes grow weary with empathy.  

“I am sorry. You deserved a good life with Neia. There was nothing you could have ever done to deserve what has happened to you.” Layre leans forward, pulling Mageus into a close, tight hug. Then he whispers right into Mageus’ ear, something he had felt and was unable to admit for so, so long. “If I am what breaks your curse, then it would only be fitting. For I have loved you since I was a child, since your name first graced my ears.”  

Layre feels the cool wetness of Mageus’ tears on his shoulder, but he also feels something else. It is sharp, and it had really started to hurt. He draws away from Mageus, gasping as he takes in his appearance. That dark, harrowing blood has seeped from his eyes to his chin, where it curls down and paints his neck. His mouth is open, and inside is a black, bubbling mess.  

The creature is trying to escape again, and Layre was fairly certain it was succeeding.  

The creature tilts back, screeching in pain. Mageus’ body trembles, and all Layre can do his hold him tight, keep him as grounded to reality as possible.  

“Look at me Mageus, look at me!” He says, holding onto the man’s shoulders and giving them a rough, unforgiving shake.  

“Can’t...” He gurgles. “Control it...”  

“It is alright. Try to breathe for me now. Once at a time, in and out.”  

The creature screams in Layre’s face, shooting specks of black blood onto his skin. It burns, but it does not deter him.  

He feels it suddenly as the claws of the creature sink into his back. Blood stains his tunic, and Layre lets out a pained cry. The creature twists his claws, throwing Layre’s injured body away, like it mattered not.  

Layre gets up, reaching for Mageus’ bow and quiver. He loads the bow, stepping far back from the creature. He aims it skillfully, waiting. He would not harm Mageus’ body if he did not need to, so he would wait.  

Mageus’ body breaks into violent spasms, and his teeth have begun to grow to absurd lengths. Layre had no idea if the creature was winning this battle, but from here it looked to be that way. He needed to ground the Demi-God quickly, or else he may lose himself to the creature.  

Layre shoots an arrow in Mageus’ leg, cursing himself for having to do so. The creature screeches in pain, lunging angrily at Layre. It grabs him ferociously with his claws, sinking them now into his upper arms. Layre grits his teeth together in pain, landing a harsh kick to Mageus’ abdomen. The creature coughs up more hideous blood. It stumbles, landing awkwardly on the ground.  

Taking advantage of this moment, Layre tackles the creature to the ground. He shoves its arms above its head, forcing them to stay. It can no longer claw him like this.  

“Mageus! Can you hear me?” Layre screams at the beast.  

“...Can’t do it.” Mageus gurgles on the blood.  

“Yes, you can! You must!” Layre squeezes Mageus’ wrists tight and flinches when the creature screams again.  

“Trying...” 

“I see it, yes. You are trying so hard, and I am so proud of you. You’re doing wonderful, Mageus.” Layre says to him gently, his affections pure as day and skimming the tops of the deep pool of love he had for the man beneath him.  

The creature tilts its head, and lets out one last, deafening screech that rings all throughout Solmeris. Layre was sure the Almighty Four had heard it up in the Gods Palace. He gives his own scream of shock, covering his ears with his open palms. Blood pours dangerously onto the field, both of theirs combined in a wicked dark red color. Layre knows a lot of it must be his. 

Layre starts to feel faint, but he keeps himself upright. He reaches in his satchel for the calming potion. Popping it open, he forces Mageus to drink it.  

Once he has swallowed most of it, Layre lays back, unable to do much else in his fragile state. Mageus is calming down now, and that was all that mattered. Layre could feel his eyes closing on their own, the world had begun a horrid spin, and so he did not think much of the dark, bellowing cloud that rose before his eyes and high into the sky, disappearing into the clouds like it never existed at all. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

“Has he not been asleep for too long?” And then later, “You are positively sure it is fine that he sleeps this long?” Layre faintly hears the voice of Mageus, but he is too exhausted to check and see if it was him. He allowed himself to keep listening in his dreary, half-asleep state.  

“I am sure, Mageus.” Anima speaks. “I have treated far worse with far less.” 

“Oh, well that’s good then.” Mageus responds, falling silent now.  

Layre takes a deep breath, fluttering his eyes open now that his head does not ache so bad. Some time had passed since he heard the talking, since only one person remained in the room. It was Mageus, and he was seated in a chair by the door. He had taken him to his room at Viessa and Anima’s home.  

This is the first time Layre had seen the Demi-God sleep, and then he wondered if the curse had been the force preventing it. And how terrible that would be, living a long life without the ability to rest.  

Layre glances at the window, shocked to see how it late was in the night. His eyes widen, and they flit to Mageus again. He seemed fine despite the moon being out. So, that means it had worked? Whatever he had done, it had worked! 

“Mageus?” Layre calls out, and almost immediately, the Demi-God startles awake. His face softens with sadness when he notices Layre is the one calling for him. 

“Oh, thank the stars! You were beginning to worry me. You slept for so long I worried you would never wake again.” Mageus goes to him, kneeling down beside the bed so he may place a tender kiss on his forehead. Layre looks away after, still not used to it at all. He was unsure if he ever would be. Mageus takes his hand and holds it gently, as his hands were bruised from all that had happened. 

“You’re here, Mageus. At night. That means the curse was broken, doesn’t it?” Layre asks, hopeful. 

“Yes, dear.” Mageus rests his forehead against Layre’s, letting out a shaking, relieved sigh. “You have done it, just as you promised.”