"Nothing beats what is genuine rather than those fabricated with magic. Controlled but not willing like a useless doll who cannot move on its own without the strings. "
Aegir could find himself in a dark room, with only a little light from a lamp placed on a table had saved him from the impression that he's already damned and tossed in hell, just like they said he would.
"You don't belong to anything! "
"You're a demon! "
"One day, hell will give you the place you'll definitely belong! "
Everyone of his kind has an innate ability they possess. As simple as an ability to run fast like a thief or fly on which both are very useful for cats like his kinds. But cats that have human-like appearance are shunned by other kinds.
Because perhaps they're too blessed with not only magical abilities but with nine lives. But for them, it's evil—it's heresy just like their cursed bloodline.
And if his bloodline is cursed enough—Aegir got all that is bad. A demon worthy to be erased from this very world.
The moment his mom learned he can unconsciously control the creatures around him; One, when he controlled his own brother to give him the piece of meat. Two, when he stopped an elder from hurting him—he was cast away.
He has the unique ability called [Fervent Temptation]. An ability which allows him to control people by his 'pheromones'. He cannot control his power at will at first but eventually he did. But it didn't give him any happiness—he's always left alone in the cold. Crying and in the mercy of humans who also didn't treat him better.
There was no warm place for him, only cold rain and harsh winter.
And the cycle remained. He could control them to do his bidding but it's not as satisfying as it seems—it leaves a hollow darkness in his heart every time he uses his power—an ugly curse.
He took the lamp from the table and proceeded to walk. He doesn't know where to go—but forward. If he's the past that got trapped in this situation maybe he'll just accept that everything is already finished. But, not now... There's someone waiting for him, definitely there'll be someone at the end of the line.
"Anthony is waiting for me and oh! Tibby and Tabby! " Despite the hot damp tears that had flown in his cheeks that moment, he could still find himself mustering a smile.
Because out of everyone that can certainly look in his direction when he wants them to—Anthony looked in his direction when he didn't ask, when he didn't have anything to offer and he didn't just set his eyes on him; he walked towards him, extended his hand and even chose to stay.
He could hear his own breathing as he walked. He quickened his pace, as if he's already ready to make a run. Perhaps he already started to run. He could feel his lungs burn, his breathing rugged and heavy; beads of perspiration basked his skin and his legs felt like it was hit by something painful. But none of those made him stop.
Until he could hear faint sounds—and it became clearer. A sound so familiar to his ears and the last he heard before darkness swallowed him before.
"Aegir, please wake up. Tibby and Tabby are here. I am here. " He could hear his voice as he, Aegir, desperately ran to catch where the owner of the cool and manly voice was.
Anthony's usual voice is that monotone or bored. Aegir always finds Anthony's voice a wonder about how it could change from that of the most uncaring to someone angry but he never heard this kind of voice from him before—it's as if he's so sad.
The sadness that could match the desperation he is feeling. And it makes his heart heavy; sickening heavy that it almost felt that he's being crushed by it.
He want to tell him he's here but he couldn't find his voice—just his own stuttering sounds. Hot tears dampened his face like raindrops. A lone tear fell on his cheeks once more. He blinked. One moment later, he saw a strange light until that light turned into a blurry face.
He reached his hand to the light, desperately—clawing into it. He needed the light. He needed it.
He grasped it. And at the end of the light, he was there. Arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace.
He found him sobbing, so was he. And he was wrong that every tear is only for sadness and misery. It can be warm and fuzzy—it made him smile.