Work Text:
It was clear even from halfway across the room that there was some discord occurring at the table they were approaching.
Mike noticed immediately, even as his mind struggled to catch up with the rapid change in location and events. He was used to seeing Simon by now; he was even used to the way that Simon would quite literally drop in at any moment. He was even mostly used to the strange mode of travel that had brought them to this place, though he knew from the dizziness that was still refusing to budge that he had travelled for a much longer distance than he was used to. Mike’s cheeks and nose still felt chilled from the wind, and there was a persistent haze of vertigo that was taking its sweet time in lifting. For this reason he found himself having to concentrate quite deliberately on not knocking into any of the tables and chairs he and Simon were weaving through; in his mind he thought it would cause undue attention, and he would hate for any of the employees to somehow notice that they were not guests. Mike did not know if this was the kind of establishment where employees would notice such a thing immediately, but the place looked fancy enough that Mike inherently had the feeling he was sticking out like a sore thumb. The fact that he was remarkably short, obviously scarred, and dressed in only a light shirt despite having just come in from the street in a town that was high up in a mountain range completely slipped his mind.
Despite all this, the disagreement radiating from the table they were approaching was enough to break through Mike’s thoughts and commandeer his focus. The table was set at the far end of the room, and despite its comfortable setting – right by the large fire crackling in the hearth and in front of large floor-to-ceiling windows showing the ski slopes and the mountains, the cable cars running up its slopes utterly dwarfed by the peaks – nobody else was sitting anywhere near the two men occupying it. The closest guests were seated on a sofa a good distance away, and even they periodically sent the pair unnerved looks.
Upon first glance, there seemed to be nothing unusual about them. One of the men was broad, with light brown hair and a greying beard; he sat in a thick sweater, slouched to the side, his elbow on the table and his head resting in his hand. His other hand he drummed incessantly on the table, which, judging by the way the second man was staring constantly at it, was greatly annoying him. The other man was shorter and slimmer, almost frail by comparison, his hair dark but greying considerably, and almost obnoxiously in place. His features were sharper and he was impeccably dressed, wearing the kind of suit that might be more appropriate for a business meeting or a formal occasion rather than relaxing by the fire; he was wearing a large ring on the little finger of his right hand, set with a bright emerald that made up the pupil of an eye.
“Peter,” the man said, as Mike and Simon moved into earshot. “Will you please shut up.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You know damn well what I mean.”
Mike fought the urge to snigger. They sounded like an old married couple; automatically he glanced at their hands. He couldn’t see Peter’s left hand, but the other man was wearing an impressive gold band on his ring finger, and Mike had to wonder.
“I thought I would find them here,” Simon said to Mike, before raising his voice and addressing the table. “I thought I would find you here!”
“Yes, yes,” said the man with the ring. He didn’t look around; in fact, he seemed totally unsurprised by the fact that Simon was here to begin with. “Not a moment too soon, either. I was beginning to tire of Peter’s company.”
“Please,” Peter said, with great sincerity. “Do.”
“Oh, shut up.” The man turned in his chair and glanced at Simon, before his eyes went immediately to Mike. “Ah! You have brought a friend.”
Mike’s earlier dizziness had worn off; he was now able to see what he had been missing. Peter’s hair was not light brown but in fact a dark brown that was severely faded, like something left out in the sun long enough that its colour had all but been bleached away. His entire appearance seemed that way, giving him a strange, distant look – like he wasn’t fully defined, or existed behind some film of smoke or fog. The other man had a distinct sharpness about him reminiscent of a piercing gaze; even when he wasn’t looking at Mike directly, Mike could still feel his eyes as though he was. Now he had turned his full attention to him, Mike could practically feel him sifting through his thoughts; he frowned and tried to push the thought away, only to see the man’s mouth turn up in an amused smile that bordered ever so slightly on nasty.
Mike understood now, of course. He had missed it on his approach, his head still spinning, but now he could see the mark on them as clearly as he saw it on Simon. Neither of them were like he and Simon – Peter was quite clearly of the Lonely, even without every inch of him exuding the desire to be anywhere but here, and as for the other man, Mike had never seen somebody so deeply marked by the Eye in his life. He found himself wondering if there was room for anything else in this man; the two seemed so completely inseparable.
“This is who I was telling you about,” Simon said, and Mike glanced at him, the question evident on his face. Simon did not seem interested in updating him on his previous discussions, however; he didn’t meet Mike’s gaze. “Remarkable work, isn’t it?”
“You’d think,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair, “the Vast would go for people a little taller.”
“It’s really got nothing to do with that at all,” Simon said.
“I know, I know.” Peter yawned. “It’s just a little funny, don’t you think? The Vast, and here the two of you are, probably struggling to break six feet if you were stacked.”
“Don’t be stupid,” the other man snapped. “They would quite clearly make six feet.”
“Seven, then.”
“Ignore him,” the man said, turning back to Simon. “He’s being an utter brat today.”
“Oh, as usual,” Simon said brightly. “For that, I think we’ll sit down for a moment. Mike, do take a seat. Don’t get too close to him. His foul moods are contagious.”
“Right,” Mike said.
“These are some of the friends I’ve been referring to,” Simon began.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Peter put in.
“I don’t believe by name,” Simon continued, as though he had never spoken, “but certainly I must have mentioned them. That charming gentleman is Peter Lukas—”
“I’m more of a business associate, I would think.”
“—of the equally charming Lukas family. Brilliant in business, lousy at everything else. This gentleman here you may have heard of – Elias Bouchard, Head of the Magnus Institute. Probably better known as Jonah Magnus.”
Mike blinked.
“You’re spoiling all the fun,” Elias said, though there was a glint of enjoyment in his eyes that Mike thought was probably entirely down to his obvious surprise.
“I’m rather fond of Mike,” Simon said. “I thought I’d make sure you couldn’t run circles around him too much.”
By this point they were seated; Elias now leaned across the table to continue peering at Mike, while Peter continued to yawn somewhere off to Mike’s left. Mike would not describe himself as a shy person by any means, but there was something drastically overwhelming about Elias’s unblinking gaze, and he found it was very difficult to gather his thoughts into anything even remotely resembling a polite response. At the very least, he was comforted by the fact that neither Elias nor Peter seemed to expect a normal meeting with all the correct etiquette.
“Very fascinating,” Elias eventually said, still looking at Mike as though appraising a rare piece of jewellery that Simon had come across in an out-of-the-way antique store. “Now, do tell me: why the Vast? Don’t lie. I shall know.”
“It seemed… logical?” Mike said, uncertain. It was the truth, of course, but there was something about Elias that made him feel as though he was being put on the spot.
“You see, Simon?” Elias asked. “Convenience!”
“Oh, come now,” Simon said, amused. “As though it mattered, in the end. One of mine is one of mine.”
“You don’t fear heights, do you, Mike?” Elias asked conversationally.
“When you’re my size, you can’t really afford to,” Mike said.
Peter gave a quiet snort, which startled Mike – he’d all but forgotten he was there. Peter seemed to be capable of completely erasing himself from a conversation, which Mike supposed was some kind of defence mechanism.
“Now, now,” Simon said patiently. “You know well there’s far more to it than that.”
“Yes, I know,” Elias said, looking at Mike again. “It’s not quite the heights that get you, is it?”
In that moment Mike was sure he felt a strange kind of charge, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He felt his stomach all but drop out from under him, before his mind caught up and he realised that he had only imagined the sensation; he hadn’t actually felt it. He stared back at Elias, who watched him with a perfectly neutral expression, if not for his eyes. There was that glint in his eyes again, amused and defiant, as though daring Mike to mention it. It seemed to Mike that the thrill was not in the uncertainty, but rather in the fact that Mike knew well that he was doing something to him; he just couldn’t quite explain it. Ordinarily Mike would have tried to brush it off, but he got the feeling that would be impossible. Elias was staring right into him, and Mike felt incredibly exposed.
“Elias,” Simon said, his pleasant tone now with a sharper edge. “Do stop being rude.”
“You know I can’t resist,” Elias said, leaning back in his chair. “I shall try to behave.”
“I would recommend it,” Simon said. “You can’t keep throwing a tantrum because you think he should have been one of yours.”
“One of yours?” Mike asked.
“Did you ever consider it?” Elias asked. “The manner with which you went about things; that ceaseless search for knowledge. You could have managed it.”
“I considered it,” Mike admitted. “I can’t say I liked it.”
“No?”
“No. There was one book in particular… I can’t say I enjoyed the feeling.”
Elias’s eyes brightened. “A book! That is rare. You would think it would be more common, yes? The Eye is, after all, associated with knowledge; and what better representation than books! But books aligned with the Eye are quite uncommon. You found a rarity.”
“I can’t say I was thinking too much about such things,” Mike said.
“A shame. I would have been interested to see.”
“It would have likely been interested to see you, too.”
Elias laughed. “Oh, it would know me very well.”
“Elias and the Eye go way back,” Simon said, “though he hasn’t been around quite as long as me.”
“You do always have to make sure everybody knows that,” Elias said.
“So, like… are you all… really old, then?” Mike asked. “You’re—I mean, forgive me if I’m being ignorant, but I’m fairly certain Simon implied that you’re…?”
“Jonah Magnus,” Elias said. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Don’t give him a head that’s any bigger,” Peter muttered. “Pretend you’ve never heard of him.”
“Peter is the baby,” Elias said, glaring at him, “as you can tell.”
Mike quickly did the math. He didn’t know the exact dates off the top of his head, but rough estimates put Elias at just over two hundred years old. It was not quite up to Simon’s five hundred plus, but it was still impressive – Mike had heard enough from Simon now to know that such gifts were not given out often. With them it was different – the Vast existed on its own timeframe, and longevity was more of a guarantee. The other entities varied, and Simon had stated that the Lonely didn’t tend to go in for it too much. As for the Eye, he was even less certain – fully-fledged Eye avatars were quite rare. Not to mention the fact that Elias looked nothing like any of the commonly available portraits of Jonah Magnus who, while still slight, had been much shorter, with copper hair and freckles.
“And Scottish,” Elias put in, and Mike started.
“You can read minds?” he asked.
“Yes,” Peter said. “And he’s very obnoxious about it.”
“He’s showing off,” Simon agreed.
“Don’t you both start,” Elias said. “I am only acting within my nature. We are, after all, slaves to it.”
“Oh, here we go,” Peter said.
“I am merely referring to the fact that Simon cannot keep his eyes off those cable cars,” Elias said shortly, before turning to Simon. “Don’t you ever get bored?”
“Well, of course I like a little bit of variety,” Simon protested. “But why fix what isn’t broken? Do you know how nervous people are on those things? It’s quite fascinating. Even people who don’t see themselves as ordinarily being bothered somehow find themselves a little anxious. You don’t get it on ski lifts – not as much, anyway. But in a cable car? I think it’s something to do with the enclosed space. It somehow makes them feel less in control, which is laughable. They never had any control anyway.”
“No, it is quite amusing, isn’t it?” Elias smiled. “The lies people tell themselves. There is, however, a party of friends present including a young man who does have quite the fear of heights.”
“Is that so?” Simon asked.
“Oh, yes. It’s quite unfortunate for them, really. They’ve been persuading him for days that there’s nothing to fear from going up on the higher slopes. You’ll know him when you see him.”
“Have they managed to get him up there yet?”
Elias paused for a moment. “No. I don’t believe they have. I think today might be his first time. How unfortunate for him.”
“How unfortunate indeed,” Simon said, thrilled, and then with one deft foot he tipped his chair backwards and vanished.
The empty chair clattered to the ground, but somehow nobody looked around. Mike glanced up, trying to see if even one person had paid them any attention, but all eyes were carefully diverted. He pondered the question for a moment, until Elias leaned over and flipped the chair back up, reminding Mike that he was now alone with the two of them.
“Rather rude, isn’t he?” Elias asked. “Abandoning you like that.”
“He comes and goes,” Mike said.
“I know the feeling,” Elias replied, with a pointed look at Peter, who pointedly ignored him. “I don’t suppose you were in the area.”
“No, he… wanted me to meet you?” Mike said. “No offense, but I’m not really sure why.”
“It’s interesting,” Elias said simply. “When there are… new recruits, I suppose. Don’t you think it’s worth knowing; who is aligned with what? Perhaps that’s just me being nosy again.”
“Undoubtedly,” Peter said.
“Pay no attention to him,” Elias said.
“If you’re paying no attention to me, I might as well leave,” Peter said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Elias snapped. “It took me long enough to drag you out here anyway; you can stay for the full week. I barely see you at any other time.”
“As it should be.”
“You should have thought of that,” Elias hissed, “before you married me.”
“Convenience,” Peter said pointedly.
“You tell yourself that,” Elias said dismissively, before addressing Mike. “He’s actually very fond of me.”
“I cannot wait to be rid of you.”
“What a shame I shall certainly outlive you, then,” Elias said. “Behave, or I am going to purchase you the gaudiest headstone I can find. I may even host a wake at the Institute.”
“You would simply not dare.”
“Do not tell me what I will and will not dare to do. What are you going to do about it, if you’re dead?”
“Should you ever run into trouble on my watch, I shall put your eyes up an arse.”
For some reason this absolutely incomprehensible threat caused Elias to reach near melting point. Mike watched, equal parts concerned and intrigued, as Elias went several deepening shades of red progressing through to near purple. By some slim margin he managed to gain control of himself, but it was quite clearly a very near thing. Finally he let out a long breath and massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers, shaking his head.
“You are so vulgar,” he finally said, and despite the fact his tone was casual, his voice still shook slightly. “You have no respect.”
Peter gave an exaggerated smile. It looked utterly grotesque on him; like somebody who had learned facial expressions only through watching pantomime.
“I, uh…” Mike said awkwardly. “I can… leave, if I’m… interrupting anything?”
“Nonsense,” Elias said. “He’s always like this. I would hardly call day to day existence anything to be interrupted.”
“You can always feel free to leave,” Peter said.
“Are you an idiot?” Elias asked him. “If he leaves, you’ll still be stuck with me. Anyway, I still have more things I’d like to know.”
“Why does he have to be here for that? Can’t you just look?”
“I could, but that would be impolite,” Elias said.
“Like you care about that.”
“I am respecting Simon’s request. You know how fond he is of all his little grandchildren.”
“You’re scared he’s going to throw you off something again.”
“Again?” Mike asked.
“Don’t get ideas,” Elias said irritably.
“It was quite funny,” Peter said. “It took him some time to find his way back out, and then he landed far too hard.”
“Peter,” Elias said, through gritted teeth.
“His arm was in a cast for weeks. He was most put out.”
“Your arm is going to be in a cast in a moment,” Elias hissed, and Mike got the strong impression that he was telling the truth – or, at the very least, that he would be willing to give it a decent try.
My god, he thought, quite distinctly. These people are insane.
“Give yourself time,” Elias said, and Mike groaned – he had somehow forgotten.
“Can you switch that on and off?” he asked. “It gets tedious.”
“I can tune in and out,” Elias said, “and I’m prone to knowing when people are thinking about me specifically. It’s worth knowing. You make enemies in this game.”
“You don’t have to,” Peter pointed out. “You could just mind your own business.”
“Now that would be quite counter-intuitive, wouldn’t it, Peter?” Elias asked, overly sweetly. “Almost like that was a stupid thing to say, and you needn’t have bothered.”
“This kind of pettiness is exactly why I divorced you.”
“And then you married me again, so who’s the true clown?” Elias snapped. “He’s trying,” he added to Mike, “to make me so annoyed with him that I wish for him to go away. I refuse to do it, out of sheer spite. He could have always decided not to come here with me, but here he is. You do the math.”
“Do you… um, ski?” Mike asked. “Forgive me, but neither of you look like the type.”
“No,” Elias said. “At a push Peter likes to wander the hiking trails, when nobody in their right mind would be hiking. I just happen to greatly like the food here, and this is a good window to watch the falls.”
Mike glanced out of the window, noting that the cable cars had stopped. He wondered if it was a coincidence, or if they had been like that for long. He got the distinct feeling that Simon was enjoying himself, wherever he was.
“Anyway,” Elias said. “You mentioned earlier that you thought we were insane.”
“I thought it,” Mike said. “There’s a bit of a difference there. A loss of context, if you will.”
“I doubt you’re naïve enough to have gone into this without knowing what it was you were getting into,” Elias said. “You’re not like many of the others I’ve seen. It’s all a choice, in the end, but choices come about in different ways. A lot of people find themselves bewildered, betrayed, confused… even disgusted at what they’ve become. Understanding it was a choice takes them some time to come to terms with, but here you are, knowing precisely what you were doing. It’s therefore rather interesting that you feel immune to such judgement from others.”
“Well,” Mike said cautiously, “in my defence, I was more referring to the bickering.”
“You were referring,” Elias said, his eyes unflinchingly on Mike again, “to my potential for violence. You may have noticed that I am a rather… tightly wound individual, in certain situations.”
“He’s unhinged,” Peter said.
“Shut up,” Elias said. “Regardless, I was like that before. I have never suffered fools. I just happen to see a lot more of them now.”
“I suppose when you can read everyone’s thoughts…” Mike said.
“The point I’m trying to make,” Elias said, with another inexplicable glare at Peter, who did not seem to be about to interrupt the conversation again in the slightest, “is that you were judging by human standards, when you yourself are aware of the fact that you are no longer human.”
“No longer—” Mike repeated, before shaking his head. “I don’t know. I mean… look at me. I look human enough. I feel human enough.”
“And yet you may live for centuries,” Elias said. “And you find yourself possessed of the ability, essentially, to fly; and certainly to access dimensions hitherto inaccessible to the regular person on the street.”
“Well… I guess I just… supposed…” Mike trailed off.
“You are used to viewing everything through a lens of fiction,” Elias said simply. “You are probably seeing it as being human, but with… powers, I suppose. Abilities. These are not powers and abilities. They are you. You have become.” He paused for a moment, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. “You knew all of this, even if you didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. You had bigger problems on your mind. Tell me – was it worth it?”
The question, which would have seemed barbed coming from anyone else – maybe even smug or condescending – seemed perfectly natural coming from Elias. It was perhaps the most sincere thing that Elias had said so far, and Mike found himself taken aback. He hadn’t known what to expect from this meeting, though Simon had told him to prepare for some measure of cross-examination; Mike hadn’t exactly expected anyone to home in on the root of the matter so succinctly. Of course, given what Elias was, he shouldn’t be surprised – but it was still an unpleasant feeling.
Still, he did have an answer, at the very least.
“Yes,” he said, just as sincerely.
“Losing your humanity?” Elias asked, still interested. “You would rather do that? Some people would decide to suffer, so long as they remained themselves.”
“Well, I’m not like them,” Mike said. He no longer bothered to wonder how Elias seemed to know the entire story. “I thought about it, but that was no life. I wanted a life. No matter the cost.”
“Quite remarkable,” Elias said. “And you don’t regret it at all?”
“No,” Mike said. “I don’t think I do.”
“It’s early days,” Elias pointed out. “Very early days. If you should decide you can’t bear it, there is no going back.”
“Do you think I haven’t considered that?” Mike asked amiably. “I didn’t just blunder into this decision. I am well aware.”
“And yet you’re still thinking in terms of sanity and insanity.”
“This is a long way to go to try and pretend that you aren’t unhinged,” Peter said.
“I already admitted to that,” Elias said. “Of course today of all days you decide to be talkative.”
Peter laughed. He sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, though Mike sincerely hoped to be miles away from here when Elias finally had enough of it.
“Listen,” Mike said, before the two of them could get started again. “All this talk about losing my humanity or whatever – I didn’t have it anyway. Not from the moment it all started. When you’re dealing with something like that, people cease to treat you as human. You’re a problem to be solved, or a secret to be hidden, or however they want to think of it. I didn’t act human then; I wasn’t treated as human. I suppose that kind of thing gets into your head. I guess some people would be disheartened by it, but as for me, I guess it just gave me an idea.”
Elias smiled. Outside, Mike noted that the cable cars still hadn’t moved. Quite a crowd was gathered around the loading bay, among them the distinctive bright red snow suits of the mountain rescue team.
“Well,” Elias said, and Mike turned back to see he looked distinctly amused. “You might just have no issues at all.”
Mike returned the smile. “That’s the plan.”