Prometheus watched as the sailors ran around the ship; the hustle and bustle were somewhat calming to him. He could have adjourned himself to his lab to work, but he preferred to tinker in public, in the sunlight. Prometheus could not help but smile as he worked. For the past month, there have been constant meetings and interrogations trying to discern Prometheus's allegiance to Xerxes, information on the other countries, and constant bickering as to what was the best way to undermine the other countries while Prometheus served on the council. Today was the first time he had been able to be on his ship, with his crew, as an independent man. He had no idea when he was going to see his family again, and he preferred it that way. His sister was the only one he had any sort of connection or affiliation with, so leaving them behind was no big loss in Prometheus's eyes. He basked in the sun with content while continuing to tinker with his project. Sailors went to and fro, staring at Prometheus with confusion. They rarely saw their captain outside of his lab, and in that time, they never got to see him tinkering; he would often work in private to protect his work, but after the month he had, he no longer cared. He wanted to spend time with people who were not his parents, even if it meant some of his ideas were at risk.
Prometheus pondered his work for a moment. For a while, he had been working with different materials, including obsidian, to create a new kind of storage device that could hold multiple magical objects while also suppressing them within the bag; making the object easier to conceal in a sticky situation. He had been making great progress until recently when his bag started to struggle with holding onto its magic. It may keep its inventory for a time, but it would always lose it and everything inside after a few hours. At this moment, Prometheus was something he was not often; stumped. He sat there, staring at the materials, waiting for them to speak to him about their place and purpose, but they just lay there inanimately. It frustrates Prometheus to no end. He was used to being frustrated with people; they are impulsive and rude and frankly boring to him, parts had never let him down, inventions were always his most trusted ally. But at this moment, he felt a deep sense of betrayal; he wanted nothing more than to cry, but the logical side of him could not justify shedding tears over parts. Prometheus was so engrossed in thought that he did not even have time to notice the shadow that looked down on him.
"There is no way the magic will be able to stabilize with these materials," a voice said next to Prometheus. He stumbled back a bit, shocked at the voice; next to him was a hooded figure in light black armor. For a moment, Prometheus prepared to attack but then realized who the man was.
"What would an innate magic user know about the arcane process?" Prometheus asked in a smug manner.
"Enough to know that the materials you are using, while they may appear to hold enchantments well, are too rigid," he replied. "If you plan to store other magical items inside this magical item, it will throw it off balance; the materials would not be able to conduct that much magical energy." The hooded man pulled some fabric from out of a satchel at his waist.
"Here," he said, handing it to Prometheus. Prometheus took it quickly and hastily. It was a long piece of black fabric, similar to the one the man was wearing.
"What does this do?" Prometheus asked in inquiry.
"In Niepe, we call it ashefell; it's a special material that doesn't absorb magical energy," he knelt down next to Prometheus, "But it also does not dispel enchantments. When we first discovered it, we thought it was useless; luckily Meryn and I researched it and found out it could hold an enchantment without displacing the arcana within it."
"So the enchantment would not dispel even if it comes into contact with other magical artifacts," Prometheus said excitedly, "I cannot believe I am saying this, but this is actually helpful Varithorn."
Varithorn nodded and sat down next to Prometheus, "'that was helpful?' I was expecting at least a thank you."
"Then you expected too much," Prometheus said with a smile. Varithorn laughed a little and slapped Prometheus on the back. Prometheus winced a bit.
"I asked you never to touch me," Prometheus said shrugging off Varithorn's hand.
"Right, my mistake." Varithorn said removing his hand. They sat in silence for a bit, Prometheus working with his parts, Varithorn enjoying the breeze from the ocean. Sailors came to and fro carrying boxes and supplies for the trip ahead. Prometheus did not mind Varithorn's company but he also was confused by it. They had spent much time together, but it was never Varithorn's habit to simply sit with him; it was clear that he wanted something. Prometheus thought for a moment, trying to discern his will, then he got an inkling of an idea. Prometheus turned to Varithorn.
"You need my permission, don't you?" Prometheus said suddenly. Varithorn turned towards him. Even though his face was covered, he could still tell that Varithorn was looking towards him, though why his face was still covered was another mystery to Prometheus.
Prometheus continued, "To see her grave. You are not able to walk into Xerxes, so you need my permission." Varithorn was quiet, pondering, but eventually nodded.
"I do enjoy our time together, but yes. If it is possible, I would like to see her," Varithorn answered. He had a somber look on his face as he talked. Prometheus had been so absorbed in his current predicament he had not thought about how his sister's death might have affected others; Meryn's death was hard enough for Prometheus, the circumstances were harder, but for Varithorn, it had to be just as rough if not more so just in another way. Prometheus felt something aching inside him, a sort of pain in his chest. Could it be empathy? He shrugged it off as something he needed to get checked out at a later date.
Prometheus sighed as he stood up and dusted himself off. "Very well, do you have your passkey?" Prometheus asked.
"Of course," Varithorn answered, "but why would I need my passkey?"
"The Dauntless have not exactly retained their wit since you were last here," Prometheus answered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round device with a strap to go around his hand. The center of the device was glass with metal inlaid throughout its structure, similar to the web of an arachnid. Varithorn pulled out a similar device and also put it on his hand. Prometheus called out across the ship:
"Meep!" he said. A second later, the doors to the captain's quarters opened, and a small automaton about a foot tall sped across the deck towards Prometheus. It was not the most put-together creature; wires and parts were clearly visible through its chassis, but he had always been a loyal assistant to his master. He hobbled over and stopped right at Prometheus's feet. He turned his head and looked up at Prometheus, his eyes glowing blue, circulating between glowing bright and then dim; Prometheus meant to fix that electrical issue.
"Open a door to Thanatos's Mortuarium," Prometheus said. Meep nodded and turned himself towards an open area on the deck. He extended his hands forward, as if he was preparing something, but instead of anything happening, instead Meep suddenly shut down, becoming lifeless. Varithorn and Prometheus looked at each other.
"He really is not your best work," Varithorn said chuckling. Prometheus kicked Meep in the back softly, and the automaton whirled to life. Electricity and white energy flowed through him until suddenly a rune appeared in the air ten feet away from him. The rune disappeared for a moment, but then a white fog appeared in its place, filling a small space until it encompassed a 7-foot by 4-foot area. Suddenly, the fog was sucked by a great force of air, being pulled into nothingness, creating a white doorway to walk through. Prometheus and Varithorn stepped through the doorway and almost instantaneously were not where they once were. Similar to stepping through a doorway, going from one room to the next, but instead of rooms, it was different spaces. Where at one point they were on a ship with open air, they were now in the entryway of a building. As they stepped through, the door closed behind them, making any trace of the ship disappear. The room they were now in looked like the entrance to a doctor's office or some sort of government building. The walls reflected the magelight being reflected from above. The floor is made of smooth material that Varithorn could not place. For a nation known for its desert and primitive nature, the building looked pristine and clean. Not ornate or filled with culture, more so like each part of the building was made for efficiency over aesthetic. In front of the two men was a small desk with an air nyvind flipping through documents of some kind. He looked up to see the two men, unfazed at their sudden appearance. His eyes immediately went to Prometheus. Prometheus nodded his head and held out his passkey; Varithorn followed suit. The man put out his own hand with a similar device on it; he held it towards theirs and everyone's devices glowed blue for a moment. After a second, the passkeys turned green. The man gestured towards the hallway and went back to his reading. Prometheus was used to the nonchalant treatment of the people of Xerxes; even though he was now the heir, his many sins had been made known to the people so a place of esteem was no longer his to hold.
They walked down the corridor coming to a set of double doors. The double doors had the large glyph of a rune across it, the mark of a protection spell to keep unwanted visitors from entering the room. Again the two men put their pass keys towards a passkey inlaid in the wall next to the doors and after a moment access was granted.
"I have never been in this building before," Varithorn said.
"You never would have had a reason to before now," Prometheus said as he opened the door, "a Niepean would not have many deceased Xerxean friends."
"This is the morgue?" Varithorn said in confusion, "Meryn is royalty; she should be in the catacombs along with your other ancestors!" Prometheus could detect a touch of anger in his voice.
"It was not my call," he answered, "according to the Dauntless, the investigation into her death is still 'ongoing'. I have tried to convince them to give her a proper burial, but they are too obsessed with the circumstances around her death rather than honoring her in death." Prometheus said. Varithorn was visibly confused; Prometheus understood his confusion.
In the room, there was a small console with different dials and buttons that correlated to metal doors that were all around the room. Prometheus walks towards the console and presses a few of the buttons to select one of the doors. A few seconds later, one of the metal doors opens, and a long tray with a body on it slides out. As the body fully slides out, Prometheus waves his hand, and four crystals that are set up in the corners of the room begin to glow, emanating a strange blue light that points itself towards the body. The body begins to float into the air towards the two men until it is floating upright in the middle of the room.
"Wha…how…how is this possible?" Varithorn asks.
The two men stare at the body of Meryn, but Varithorn was consumed with bewilderment. It looked as if Meryn was asleep; her body did not look decayed, more like she was in a state of stasis. Varithorn walked towards her body, reaching out his hand to grab hers but has blocked by the levitation magic suspending her body.
"Why does she look…" Varithorn started to say.
"Alive?" Prometheus answered, "We do not know. When Meryn passed away it was because of a malfunction with a spell she was working on creating. We do not know exactly what happened but the spell somehow has kept her body in a state of stasis even if she is now void of life. She is gone, but we are cursed with seeing her in a state as if she is asleep." Prometheus looked at Meryn with sadness in his eyes. The one person he connected with, the one who taught him his craft, she floated before him as a lifeless husk, never decaying but also never being the same again.
Prometheus sighed to himself, "it makes it hard to move on, the Dauntless especially have been struggling with it."
"Is she truly gone?" Varithorn asked, "I mean if her body is in this state then there is a chance that she is just…" Varithorn searched for the right words.
"Your line of thinking is the same as my parents," Prometheus walks over to Varithorn, "they see her in this state and believe that she is still alive, somewhere. Meryn was always incredibly secretive about her work as I am sure you are well aware. She would sometimes give me hints as to what she was working on but never actually told me." Prometheus grew solemn.
"In the explosion, most of her work was destroyed. We had no idea what she was working on and with what we do have it is still almost impossible to figure out exactly what the spell was supposed to do," Prometheus said.
"What did she tell you?" Varithorn asked.
"She said the spell was ancient yet incomplete; it seems she found something in her excavation of the ruins outside of Styx," Prometheus looked to Varithorn, "What did she tell you?"
Varithorn shook his head, "Like you said she was secretive. Even being her lover, she never shared her research with me. Maybe she thought I would not understand, maybe it was her pride, but I never knew what her work was," Varithorn did not avert his gaze from Meryn. Not many knew of their relationship; Prometheus was one of the few. They would often meet in secret, Prometheus respected and loved his sister so helping her see her boyfriend was a showing of kindness for him. Whether she would sneak to Niepe or Varithorn would sneak here. They were never quite a trio as Prometheus was usually the odd man out, but he did enjoy their company. Unlike most, their happiness did not disgust him; he enjoyed seeing someone he loved be in love. He so often was uncomfortable with the ways that people acted in relationships; the lovey-dovey nature they had around them he found nonsensical. But for some reason their love gave him a sense of peace.
However, Varithorn's words set something off in Prometheus. A confusion of sorts. Prometheus and Meryn had many talks with each other; Prometheus looked to her for advice about research and new infusions he could work on; but Meryn never did the same. She always kept her work to herself but would often say that if he really wanted to know 'Varithorn would be more likely to say something' than she was. Prometheus decided to prod a little.
"She did not say anything?" Prometheus asked more pointedly.
Varithorn looked towards Prometheus, "No," he replied back, "it was a bit of a tough subject between us. I wanted to know more about her work, thought it would connect us but she insisted her work was too important. Even though I know she loved me, she did not want a Niepean to know." There was a touch of bitterness in Varithorn's voice. Prometheus could hear the sincerity he spoke with but the information still did not fit.
"Varithorn," Prometheus says, "Why do you cover your face with me? I thought it was odd at the center isle but I understand Niepean secrecy, but why now? In the privacy of this room, why continue to hide yourself?" Prometheus began to speculate. The signs began to point towards something being off with his friend. Prometheus carefully moved his hand towards his passkey, putting both hands behind his back. If his suspicions turned out to be correct, he would need to alert someone as soon as possible. Prometheus also put his hands close to a small circular device on the back of his belt, just in case.
"I understand your suspicion," Varithorn finally said, "You have a right to be concerned." Varithorn walked to the side a little bit, still focused on Meryn. Prometheus kept his eyes focused, looking for any sense of danger.
"I actually was going to speak with you about this to begin with, but then you offered to let me see Meryn and I could not refuse," Varithorn says, "My father advised that we should not share the situation in Niepe surrounding heirs and blessings. As you know I have always been the heir as well as have been confirmed to receive the blessing." Prometheus was puzzled; he had known that Varithorn had always been the heir to his country but did not understand what Varithorn was getting at.
"Of course, that is how you and Meryn got so close. You and Haldrin would fight for her affection. But what are you getting at?" Prometheus asked.
"As you know this shadow group we are going after is targeting the heirs of the different countries, so if they were to target someone in Niepe…" Varithorn trailed off.
"Then they would target you," Prometheus answered, "but you have not been attacked, I mean if you were not…" Prometheus began to put the dots together.
"There was an assassination attempt," Varithorn said, "It is why I was not around for a while, and the same reason why I never tried to come back to Xerxes after Meryn's death." Varithorn began to lift up the sleeve of his arm. "The attempted left me…disfigured." As Varithorn lifted his sleeve, Prometheus could see instead flesh his arm was completely metal and machinery. The cultivation of many magical processes and artificial work to create a working metallic appendage. Prometheus was astonished; he immediately ran over and grabbed the arm to examine it.
"Incredible!" Prometheus exclaimed, "a fully functioning magical appendage; this is a marvel of the arcane and engineering!" Varithorn quickly pulled his hand away and put his sleeve down.
"That is not the point!" Varithorn said, "My father thinks that the best course of action would be to pretend that I am dead. That way this group does not think I am alive and come after me again." Prometheus was almost overwhelmed with the information. He had known Varithorn had disappeared, but he just assumed it was for political reasons; he had no idea Varithorn had been attacked. Varithorn was right, though; if there was an attempt on his life, then this group might also target him.
"What about your Blessing? Can you still use magic?" Prometheus asked, unsure if the process would work.
"Niepean's have always been focused on the body; even without the help of magic, we are incredibly strong. Also, I have other means of using magic now." Varithorn reached into his satchel and pulled out a simple metal rod.
"Most of my spells require a lot of magical power so I often use this rod to focus my power," Varithorn said. Prometheus could detect a bit of sorrow in his voice; magic was not just something to him. It was a connection to his homeland. Prometheus had the same connection to his machinery and arcanic devices; they were an extension of him. But now Varithorn was left with nothing, but he knew that Varithorn would not wallow in self-pity.
Prometheus looked towards Varithorn, "You came to see Meryn as a way to say goodbye?" Prometheus asked.
"Why not?" Varithorn replied, "I always enjoyed my time with Meryn, and she always had a way of making me feel better. Her and I may not have shared our research but I did find solace in talking with her. It seemed appropriate to see her one last time before I moved on." Varithorn started to walk towards the door.
"Come on, it is time for us to return," Varithorn said. Prometheus hesitated; there was something else going on with Varithorn that he could not quite grasp. He followed Varithorn towards the door, not sure what to think. Varithorn's body and soul may have been scarred, but he was moving forward. Prometheus pondered his own feelings; he had to be honest with himself that he cared for Varithorn. They had a strange friendship, but it was a friendship nonetheless. Varithorn may have secrets, but at least he was willing to share one with Prometheus. They opened the door, and the two men left the room, the metal door sliding closed behind them