Following
Sage usurperkings
Sapha Burnell

Table of Contents

A Good Loneliness The Grout is Foul Chalceus Citadel

In the world of Judge of Mystics

Visit Judge of Mystics

Completed 2826 Words

Chalceus Citadel

1338 0 0

The flight from Tel Aviv was supersonic and silent. Not a whisper from the Enomotia or their pilots, no jovial ribbing about BBQs and honest Violets, no talk of plans or gym routines. Thirty-six soldiers made a pretence of sleep while two pilots kept buckled in the cockpit. 

Each metre through the sky was another pace less with a haggard grief-sore demi-god, whose explosive release of power sobered the Realms. Those humans unaware of the Mystic Truce thought an uncanny natural disaster befell Stanley Park and the Burrard Inlet. An earthquake which swept through the downtown core of Vancouver and rattled windows to Granville Street Station. 

To any on the tangential end of Truce knowledge, it was the death knell of Caleb Mauthisen's humanity. How had none of them known the might inside his mercy?

A paradigm shift sat in a seat Lou buckled him to when Caleb's hands shook too much on the restraints. They were alone in a missile, with an unstable divine bomb. 

Lou sat beside Caleb, humming the same lullabies he sang for Icarus in their Underworld existence, or to Caleb alone in their tent on the rare camping trips with Ares and Leonidas. Sure, Icarus and Lou didn't sleep back when they were two uncoined Shades on the wrong side of Charon's river, but the melodies helped. 

Was Caleb any different than Icarus, when Melinöe pitched his sibling into another nightmare build? The Judge was as skittish, as pliable to a strong voice and caring hand. Lou's mind wandered to Aphrodite's parties he and Caleb attended, yes, he knew how an overwhelmed Caleb handled a strong voice. When they landed, he unbuckled the demi-god, and the Thracian breeze swept at their hair. 

The landing strip was devoid of Kopis Industries' usual bustle. Icarus' way of helping Caleb save face, wrapped around the danger coefficient if something set the Judge off. 

"C'mon, get you cleaned up." Chalceus Citadel distended as Lou drove a classic jeep with Caleb and Minitron. They passed barracks, R&D buildings built to sway in biomimetic patterns. The silence of clatter at a weapons testing facility clenched Lou's jaw. Shut, all of it. No bustle of scientists from the R&D facilities, no gunfire or grunts of training soldiers. Icarus quieted it all, a severe escalation Leonidas must've agreed to during the flight. The roads to the middle of the entire compound were as wordless as Caleb once they left the market. 

In the epicentre of the sprawling compound stood a temple of white marble pillars and lintel tinged with red.

"This is it." An altar of red marble inlaid with obsidian, bronze and onyx glowed in braziers aflame with holy fire in front of three chained idols. Soldiers' sacrifices were placed in precise rows. The statue of Ares in chains, similar to the one in ancient Sparta, was flanked by a statue inflicted with the horrors of war, the other the slack-jawed express of fear. War, Dread and Terror locked in place. 

As Lou took Caleb across a mosaic tile floor depicting the Titanomache, the statues parted to reveal a staircase into subterranean levels. 

Minitron, Fowler and Barda stood in position, their quiet military stances a testament to the sincerity of Lou’s ability to soothe and work. Truth was, they’d all been in similar straits, where their only tether to the world was their Enomotarch. Both friend and leader. Father-adjacent when the shit hit too hard. 

"Where are we?" Caleb's first words since the Grout Market shrilled down Lou's spine. No stranger to monolithic levels of tension, Lou knew to keep steady, to be Caleb's anchor. Not an unfamiliar happenstance. After he dealt with this, he'd be cracking open a few beers with his Enomotia in an hour, maybe two tops. 

"Areiadyton, place Ares got Hephaestus and Athene to build..." 

"Lou... 'Anders. You can say it." Caleb continued to walk down the staircase, through marble walls lit with glowing LED lanterns in the shape of the original Promethean flame.  

"To heck I can. Using my name, whoo. Ought to slug ya one, didn't start any playtime, did I?" Lou hazarded a half-smile, "A place you can get some rest, my skinny ass dude. Nothing to worry about down here, nobody can get to you, place is indestructible so..."

"Zeus was there, it was him." Caleb kept walking until they got to a room past three layers of thick transparent doors, which hummed with containment sigils and spells from multiple Realms. The odour of fresh water wafted over Caleb's funk, and Lou walked him straight into the compact, but lavish Roman bath.  

"You've got to stop interrupting me, Asvaldr. Can you do that?" Lou sat Caleb on one bench and sat down on the one facing him. Hands folded, elbows on his wide knees, Lou glanced Caleb over. Any wounds appeared to be in the divinity's heart. 

"Jah." Caleb's mouth open and shut, despite his urge to speak more, and hear Lou repeat the syllables of a hidden name kept only for those in whom he confided. Their mutual trust was a tarnished bronze breastplate, set aside for the urgency of the world and its fires. But maybe when all was over, it could polish up once more. 

"Here's what's gonna happen. You and me, we're gonna clean you up. Get you some new clothes, boots, kit you out. Anything you want to talk about, we talk. Anything you want to hold close to your chest, keep it there, for now. A'ight?" 

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not until you're pressed, dressed and lying down somewhere you can sleep some of this off."

"My wife died in front of me, I'm not a fucking drunk." 

"No, you're a demi-god who levelled a quarter of a thousand-acre park in less than fifteen seconds, and hasn't proven to me he's contained himself enough yet to be out there with friends who've been worried sick. So you are going to take a goddamned bath, 'cause you reek, my dude, and then we're gonna get you kitted, kipped and I will personally tuck you in for a nap. Whether you get a kiss goodnight depends on the previous few steps. Then? We will talk about what happened to Tuija, Stana, the flying spaghetti monster, all of it until I am confident you're not gonna nuke half of Midgard in a grief-fuelled panic attack. 'Cause Seraya is plucking at her petals to see you, so find it. The strength, the courage, whatever. Find it in you to see Tuija's adopted daughter or so help me I'll sucker punch you into the pub with Jack and Dagnals here. Understood, Asvaldr?"

"It wasn't me." Caleb grit his teeth, staring at a dolphin outlined in another mosaic on the floor of the ritual bath.

"Come again?"

"I don't have that kind of power, I'm too human." Caleb shook his head, mind as fogged as his clothes were stained. "Must've been Zeus, or backlash from Stana, I can't do that sort of thing, I'm not... it couldn't have been me." 

'It can't be me, Leander. Melinöe must have done something... It's not me.' The hazy memory of Icarus on the banks of the River Acheron fumbled into Lou's consciousness, another in the string of moments when his sibling needed the consolation and command of their big bro. Above his paygrade to inform Caleb otherwise, Lou bit back an 'Are you fuggin' serious' and instead stood with a thumb jerked to the bathing pool. 

"C'mon, clothes off. Let's get you washed up." Lou helped Caleb out of his clothes a piece at a time, slid his hand along Caleb's chest and back, both arms, his legs, to ensure no wounds were hidden or enchanted and festering. He stopped at the demon gouge in Caleb's side, the sutures still in Caleb's flesh. "Gotta take these out once you're clean."  

Caretaker and protector, Lou walked Caleb into the bath with passive familiarity. Jokester when the pressure was off and commander when warranted, Lou fell back into the routine and firm control of his military education as if he were built for nothing else. "Don't make me ask again, fuggin' weird to be your accountabili-buddy in the first place." 

"When you put it that way... I...  accountabili-buddy?" Caleb sniffed and shoved his palm into his eye to clear his head. "Yeah, let's not and say we didn't." 

"Right, my man?" Lou chuckled to release the tension still coating the atmosphere, "You an'me, we'll go for beers later, I dunno, relieve stress. But right now have ya soak." 

"Only Ares would make a prison with a Roman bath." 

"Ey, hey!" Lou swerved from the edge of the doorway, put his palm on the thick enchanted glass. "This ain't no prison. It's a place ta chill the fuck out until ya get your godly mojo back. Fuckin' god spa." 

"Uhhuh?" 

"... and when Deimos and Phobos are on one of their benders..." 

"Yeah, thought so." Caleb dunked into the first of the pools, steam from the water scented with frankincense and hyssop. "I'm okay. You don't have to hover." 

"Caleb, if you think I'm shoving you in solitary at a time like this, your opinion of me is scary low. You know me better, think I'm gonna abandon you 'cause things got complicated? Sure, we gave each other space. Don't mean I... eh, nevermind. Seraya and Icarus have been worried nauseous about you. So's Ares, so take a minute. I'm'a grab you those clothes. Any requests for kip?"

Caleb dunked himself under, a thin film of murk on the water before it sizzled off in the holy place. Resurfacing, Caleb set both hands to his silver hair and let the frieze of Amazons versus Titans bathe his eyes. "Red wine and a cheeseless pizza."

Eyes stained with sorrow chased the ceiling tile as Caleb breathed an unsteady series of in-and-exhales. Lou set a towel on the marble bench and left Caleb to his tears. He wasn't crying, there was dust in his eyes. Muggy down in the subterranean passages built to contain Olympian gods. Rounding a corner, Lou rubbed his hand over his face and took the bundle of clothing Minitron passed to him with mute lips. 

"This one's gonna be rough." Atop the shirt laid the leather-bound journal from the Grout Market. Lou shoved it into his back pocket. Who cared about some asshole's diary? 

"I'll call Ares." 

"Wait." Lou shook his head. "Magnus Pater's busy with the Truce. Strategos Agiad and Asclepius. They ah... they'll know what to do." 

The room Lou escorted a freshly dressed Caleb into was simple by extravagant standards, closer to the spartan accommodations Ares and his twin terror sons remembered in the halcyon days. A bed, sheets, some pillows in one corner, a desk and chair at the other, it was sufficient in its comforts. 

Caleb sat cross-legged on the bed, new boots in a cubby by the door. The quiet was broken by folk music from a speaker built into the wall, one enchanted by Athene to play songs the persons in the room would mutually enjoy. 

"You're good at this." Caleb took another bite of his pizza, eyed where Lou sat with his elbows on his knees, a bottle of red wine in hand. "Enomotarch Areides. It suits you." 

"Heh. Better than the joy riding lil'shit spat out'a the underworld, thinkin' he's invincible, eh?"

"Oh this is seven times better... but you made a pretty good little shit, then too." Caleb found a loose chuckle, stuck his thumb to his eye to staunch another tear, and shook his head. "Did you keep my clothes?"

"Ey, you left 'em, I didn't keep 'em, there's a difference ya freak. It's kinda wiggin' me out that you're there and I'm here, so let's, ah, eat ya pizza. If I left you looking the way you did, Seraya'd be ap-apop-stupid angry. Damn girl's been flitting across Midgard trying to hug ya." Lou kept his voice low and steady, passed Caleb the bottle for a swig when he finished his slice and wiped the grease off his hand with a paper serviette. "I'm sorry about Tuija." 

"Sera, I... I don't know how to see her right now." Caleb's bottle stopped midway to his lips, descended to sit propped against his knee. "I always knew we'd be parted, the Rastenivisya curse is inevitable. But not like we were. Not that quick, not when..." 

"You found a way out?"

"Icarus?" Caleb's eyes narrowed, caught in Lou's hidden knowledge.

"Think my sib isn't gonna tell me something this important?" Lou watched Caleb's eyebrows twitch and shook his head. "They didn't, until Tuija died." 

"Who knows?"

"Minitron, that's it. Ya know if you need a break, some bereavement leave..." 

"No, we're not doing this." 

"Yes we are. Don't make me hold ya down to listen, you know I'm good for it." A shrill layer of shoved-down fear laced Lou's spine as he spoke firm and adamant to the Judge of Mystics. Things were so different since... "Way I see it, you're overdue for a break, and I got a solution for ya, free of charge. Personal favour from the Lou-ander." 

Both men shared a chuckle, even if Caleb's was lost in a flash. 

"No word to anyone who could fuck it up. I got connections to Bardaga, good ones. It's not a Truce world, and things've settled since I smacked some sense into Bar and Dag's noggins. Minitron can get you there, and you can, I dunno, explode rocks. Swim in a lake made of sunshine, travel around. Eat Mummer Num cheese from the Forest of Snackies. Fuck, tame a Bubble Puppy and ride in circles. You need time to get your head together, I can buy you the time."

"They'll figure it out. They always do, doesn't Finnegan have a door there?"

"Nevermind his door. Mini-T and I got ways he can't touch." 

"Thanks, but..."

"Caleb Asvaldr Mauthisen, god fucking damn it!" Lou grunted and wrung his fingers together with a heaving sigh. The extra bottle of wine was slammed down onto the desk, shoved aside."It wasn't Zeus, ai'ight?"

"Wh-" 

"It wasn't Zeus, it wasn't Stana neither, it was you. Tuija died in your arms and you tweaked. Went full postal and ripped a storm across the planet that's still raining down in Africa like the song so don't fuck with me, everyone I love is on this plane of existence, and right now you need to figure your shit out somewhere I can protect you, too. What happens if something fucking triggers you and you blow near Icarus? Seraya? Vi? What happens if you're doing shots with some hotties at Finn's and ya go off?" Lou ran both hands over his ginger hair and stared at the demi-god's stunned face. "I wanna help, Cale, things've been tough but I don't abandon friends, nevermind I owe it to Tuija and the fact you didn't nuke Icarus during the whole Nightmare Architect shamozzle. Don't make it harder."

"I... wh... what?"

"You blew up. Even Ares ducked for cover, ya want proof? Hephaestus installed a new prosthetic. Ya fucking crushed the old one, my dude."

The quiet of a consoling isolation settled on the two men in the room, song turned to a cathartic and fast-paced heavy metal. The mattress depressed with Lou's weight edged beside the Judge. 

"I... It's not... I don't know what to make of it." Caleb hugged his knees, the wine bottle caught and put on the small table by Lou. Burying his head, Caleb heaved his shoulders in a few steadying breaths. Lou set his arm around the man the same height as he was, Caleb far more slender. 

"How did things get so complicated?" Caleb's head came to rest on Lou's arm, and the soldier let it. Set his temple on Caleb's head. 

"Ya askin' me? Frick, 'cause with ya gods it's Thursday once a week. I dunno." Instinct alone brought Lou to lay Caleb out and tuck him into a couple thick blankets, in an act which pushed past fear. This was Caleb. He knew Caleb, how he rested and how he fought. What the divine being sounded like asleep in a tent or beneath the stars.

But previous Caleb knew what he was capable of. He wasn't fragile or as powerful as the planet keeping them in her inner cave. "Think about the Bardaga thing. You're still in shock, my dude. Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up. We can talk more then." 

"May I have the journal, please?" Caleb's eyes drifted in a purgatory between daylight and dream, his arms curled the blankets to his shoulders. 

"Sure. Don't stay up readin'. Have to lock it up in one'a them time lock safes like I did when Icarus discovered manga. Fuggin' munchkin didn't sleep for a week." Lou shared a chuckle with Caleb and set the journal down on the bedside table next to a glass of water. The lights faded to a slim glow, and Lou Areides left the room with the soft click of the door, followed by a whirr from the locking mechanism.

What harm was there in giving the Judge a book?


Support usurperkings's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!