Fourteen: Sword of Sapphirus 

Layre is changing the old dressings on his arms when Mageus enters the room. It was the morning after the curse on Mageus had been broken. The “thing” going on between the men was still fresh and undefined, so Mageus took the couch downstairs over the night. Layre was unsure if he would feel comfortable with Mageus in his bed, at least not yet anyway. Sure, they had kissed once already, and sure, Layre did have prominent feelings for Mageus, but he did not know what they were. He knew he would like to define themselves better before they did more intimate things such as that.  

“Won’t you let me do that? I am the one who caused it.” Mageus hurries to his side, kneeling down and taking the gauze from Layre’s hand.  

“It was the creature, not you.” He reminds the Demi-God.  

Mageus ignores him for a while, and he starts tending to the fresh wounds along Layre’s arm. Another pair of nice scars to add to his bodily canvas. Soon, he would be nothing but a scar.  

“I still feel bad.” Mageus adds nearly a minute later, gazing somberly upon the stitched-up claw marks. He runs his fingers down Layre’s arm, roughly an inch underneath the wound. Layre shivers at his soft touch. Bumps raise along his arm, and he sees how it makes Mageus frown.  

“Well, I beg you do not.” Layre mumbles, unsure of the mood in the room. So, he changes the subject instead of dwelling on it further. “We have much to do. I would like to speak to Anima and Viessa about how your banishing works.”  

“I’ll offer you what I know.” Mageus offers, gently wrapping up the first arm. “It is not too tight, is it?” 

“No, it is fine.”  

Mageus moves to the other arm. He slowly unwraps the bandage, eyes widening.  

“What is the matter?” Layre tries to lean over to look, but Mageus is holding his arm in a way that he cannot see. 

“This mark on your tricep. It isn’t from me, is it? It looks very similar to the new ones.” Layre understands what he is seeing now. He sees the mark the creature left on him under the bell tower in the town square. It had since healed over, but it still looked just as jarring as the others.  

“Well, the truth is, when I first got here, I encountered the creature beneath the bell tower.”  

“I see. I apologize--”  

“There is no need for that.” Layre sharply reminds, staring at Mageus in a please stop apologizing kind of way.  

Mageus only nods, continuing about the banishment, “When Centuros sent Anima away, he said that I must stay here. It was not a formal banishing, no real spell was cast, so Anima thinks that the divine energy that binds me here is weak. She says that when a godly desire is created without care, there is always a way to break it where it is weak. Before she and Viessa stopped visiting me, we looked for a way to disperse the divine energy. The creature became too angry at them, so they stopped visiting. In turn, we never found out how to do it.”  

Layre hums, taking it all in. He had read similar findings during his research.  

“Divine energy is held together by a God’s will.” Layre says, “Centuros made this energy long ago, so it is likely there are weak points around the valley.” 

“Are you suggesting I try and cross at a weak point?” Mageus asks, eyes intently on Layre now. Layre nods sheepishly. It was a new thing, getting this much attention from a divine being. “How would I do so?” 

“I have an idea for that, too."  

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ 

“It will not work.” Anima says, to which the men groan.  

“And why is that?” Mageus crosses his arms.  

When Mageus had reunited with Anima and Viessa, Layre expected a spectacle. However, it seemed nothing had changed between them. He had asked Mageus about it, and he had explained that a few years was nothing to beings who lived indefinitely. It had felt like a few days for them. The thought scared Layre; he would not like to live forever. That felt like a curse on its own.  

“Divine energy takes thousands of years to grow weak. There is no way to pass through it. Doing so would end in your death, Mageus.” Anima explains, stirring a big pot of soup in the kitchen. Layre found it ironic, a witch stirring a big pot of soup. He wondered if witches did that with their potions as well or if it was just a thing the tales liked to say.  

“Well, that’s a no, then.” Viessa sighs, throwing her leg up to cross them. She was lounging in a chair in the living room. Her eyes shined a brilliant, reflective silver.  

Layre reached over for his satchel. He brought out his journal, the one he had took extensive notes in about Mageus, medicine, the curse, the creature, all of it. It was filled to the brim with drawings and diagrams. All the knowledge that was available to the public about the Demi-God was in it. He flipped through the pages rapidly, knowing exactly which one he needed.  

“Oh, he took notes. That’s cute; he must really be serious about this, then.” Viessa says, laughing when she sees the agitated expression on Mageus’ face.  

Layre finds the page. On it, a long, beautiful sword is drawn across both pages. The handle is crested with sapphire gems, the blade a shining, rare silver. It was a beauty, and maybe the key to setting Mageus free from the Shaded World.  

“This is the Sword of Sapphirus.” Layre says. He waits for them to admit they know more about the sword, but they stay quiet. Layre takes this as a hint to continue, so he does. “It is an ancient sword, allegedly made by the Gods themselves. If this sword is made of pure divine energy, surely it can destroy the energy around Vatou. If we can find the sword, then maybe we have a shot of freeing Mageus.” 

“That would be a lovely idea, Layre, if we had any clue of where to look for such a thing.” Viessa snaps, rolling her eyes into her head.  

“I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.” Mageus snarls at her, and she shoots him with a pointed glare.  

“Well, there is a way to find it. It is protected deep in the Vatoun caverns.” Layre speaks up when they start to squabble with one another. Anima looks to him now. The spoon she was using to stir the soup sinks down into the warm mixture. She’s so intrigued by the conversation that she does not notice it do so. “All we need is a piece of the sword to light the way, and luckily for us...” 

Layre reaches down into his shirt and drags up the sapphire necklace around his neck. It glimmers now, sparkling and bright, turning warm in his palm. He removes it from his neck, letting the chain dangle from the ends of his fingers. The three immortals in the room stare at it with wonder, watching it swing back and forth until it eventually stills.