Chapter Text
He lost his heart again.
Scaramouche gazed over his body; he was shattered like luminous pieces of diamond.
And then Buer walked to him and swept him away.
In his dreams, he could fly. He flew above an ocean and watched his broken reflection in the water. The thought of drowning was inviting. He’ll never know if it was possible to drown in a dream, because then, a green light was bound to burst forth.
He couldn’t burn, he couldn’t suffocate. He was a conscious being trapped in a reality where fate relished in punishing him.
If only Dottore created a button to self-destruct, he would've used it a long time ago.
Visions of gnosis seduced him. It caressed his fingertips and lingered like a butterfly. His fingers failed to grasp it, then darkness wrapped around him like a protective cocoon. His beloved heart vanished out of thin air like a firefly.
Give him a chance. A familiar voice seeped into his mind. I will make sure he does no harm.
He refused to wake up. He intended to sleep until he can no longer remember.
He forced his eyes open. The sunlight pierced through his vision. It burned, everything burned.
Nahida flinched and retreated backward, looking at him with a wary gaze.
This was what awaited him all along. He was trapped, he was her prisoner.
“You’ve been screaming in your sleep.” Nahida spoke in a reserved tone, “You almost fell out of your bed.”
Leave me alone. He shouted in his mind.
“I refuse.” She responded. Her use of powers was a show of authority.
He glared at her with unbridled hatred. His body was wrapped in bandages like a cocoon. He was doomed to live a life of a statue.
“You will recover, although that largely depends on you.” Nahida spoke and walked towards the window, “Even if you try, I will always bring you back.”
His face fell. You’ve been keeping me alive.
Nahida faced him, “We’ll be here for the time being. Let us get to know each other.”
What? You want to play friends now? You’re only wasting your time.
“I disagree.” Nahida replied, “You interest me. Just what are you exactly? Who are you? I will soon find out.”
He squinted at the ceiling. He was briefly reminded of Dottore's lab. Maybe she’ll dissect his mind, just as Dottore had with his body.
Nahida grabbed a book from the table, “I’ve only done this while you were asleep. It calms you down.” She cleared her throat and shot him a small smile, “Pardon me, I sound off. I’ve never done this before.”
He was caught off guard. She looked so innocent as if she wasn’t the one that put him here.
Nahida began reading a story to him, about a boy who lived in a cupboard under the stairs.
Your voice is so ugly. Stop reading.
She ignored him and kept reading; she has now reached the part where the boy reached a forsaken school called Hogwarts.
He squirmed uncomfortably in his bandages.
“Let me ask, do you get hungry? Or do you eat for experience?” Nahida halted her storytelling, looking at him with starry eyes.
He didn’t answer her.
“Though I think, if I feed you food, your body will recover faster.”
He shot her a look of revulsion. His whole body felt like it had invisible worms that crawled everywhere.
“I’ll bring food. Don’t go anywhere—oh wait, you can't. I'm sorry.”
He gaped at her. It’s fun to mock me, isn’t it?
Nahida didn’t answer and left the room. He imagined himself kicking her small figure around like a ball. When he couldn’t detect her footsteps, he took a quick scan of his body. There were areas on his body, where it bore large ugly cracks.
And he wasn’t wearing his old fatui clothes.
“Here’s breakfast.” Nahida carried a tray of food. The Traveler walked after her.
“She wanted to see how you’re doing.” Nahida spoke, “Don’t worry, she won’t harm you.”
Scaramouche glared at the Traveler. She stared at him back with her neutral, stoic face. A hint of pity glinted in her amber eyes. Her companion was missing. Good. He didn't think he can handle another grating voice in an early morning hour.
Nahida placed a chair beside his bed and sat. She scooped a spoonful of hot soup and in her slow movements, hovered the spoon near his mouth.
No fucking way.
“This is the only way,” Nahida said sympathetically.
He glared at the Traveler who watched him warily. What was the worst thing he could do? He could try to poke Nahida’s eyes with a fork if he could, only thick layers of bandages hindered him.
“I suppose he’s too shy. He wouldn’t want you to witness this.” Nahida chuckled, “Wait for me outside.”
The Traveler nodded and quietly closed the door behind them.
Nahida turned to him, “Now, say ahh.”
You’re humiliating me.
“No, I’m not.” She looked at him sternly, “I want to help you. Please cooperate.”
He glared daggers at her and tentatively opened his mouth. The comforting taste of soup calmed him, and the tension on his face loosened.
Nahida spoon-fed him. He silently cooperated. His body needed sustenance; he can complain about this later. There was no place for pride.
But he considered the humiliating position he was in and began to wish she was poisoning him instead, though they don’t work on him. He hated the impending doom that crawled on his body with utmost certainty that he will rot here.
This will be his prison for the rest of his life.
Yet maybe, he can make her life a living hell.
He thought about spitting his food right at her face, then Nahida retreated a few steps backward.
“You can insult me all you like, but please don’t do that. It will mess up your bandages and I’m certain you will not enjoy the smell.”
He mocked her teeny tiny voice in his head. You’re like one of those pesky fungis found in the wilds. Have you noticed the way you walked? I could easily crush you under my feet.
Nahida said nothing and kept spoon-feeding him.
How can the people of Sumeru respect you when you couldn’t even fight me yourself? You need the Traveler to babysit you for everything. I can rule this nation better than you will, Buer.
She wiped the side of his mouth gently, her delicate movements showed she was new to this.
“You remind me of an abandoned feral kitten,” Nahida muttered, “Hateful, fearful, and guarded. You are hurt and you want to hurt.” She finished feeding him and showed off the empty bowl, as if proud of this development, “We will try this arrangement. I’ll introduce more tasteful nourishment; I know very well how one can easily tire of this.”
Nahida left the room. He can imagine the smug look on her face even though he never saw it.
You are hurting. No gibe came to him. The silence of the room enhanced her words to him; echoing, mocking him, and his whole being absorbed it; abandoned, hateful, fearful.
One thing was clear to him, she saved him because she wanted to be cruel.
Days have turned to weeks, then time blurred itself. He stopped caring.
Nahida was the only one who entered his room. Regardless of her outward politeness, she seemed to maintain a calculative distance from him. They repeated their dynamic, a variation of interactions—they have created their own Samsara loop.
There were times when he thought he was still dreaming when he spotted Nahida hovering her hands above his body, her palms bright with Dendro powers.
Was she attempting to heal his body?
Only she would attempt such a feat—to heal the one who wanted her dead the most. This was her chance to eliminate him completely, so why was she trying to speed up his recovery?
She unsettled him.
In moments when she wasn’t looking, he took his chance to stare at her. She sat by the window. Her gaze was far away, only her physical body anchored her here. An expression of yearning etched her face.
He blinked.
Was this what loneliness looked like?
No. He blamed it all on his disturbed mind. An archon such as her couldn’t be lonely—not when she had hundreds of admirers, friends who ached to gain her attention, her approval.
There was no way she could ever experience loneliness. She was a god.
Nahida had made a habit of reading to him during his slumber. He liked to think she enjoyed reading books in general and just wanted somebody to listen to her read.
What an obnoxious weirdo.
Her voice infuriated him at times but sometimes he was grateful because it lulled him to sleep. Her noise dampened the voices in his head. She read him stories about a thieving crew and their risky heists, then a boy who refused to pilot a robot. The story about a lying wooden puppet stood out to him the most.
It helped tune out the beast that stared at him in his moments of isolation. He lost himself in stories because if he acknowledged his reality, he doesn't think he can bear it. His defeat, the losses in his life, and now his current state. The dirt kept piling up under the rug and he knew it was only a matter of time before it forced itself free.
Nahida remained unfazed by his constant disrespect and rudeness. She read his mind like an open book without shame. She took his threats with ease and amusement. It baffled him. Moments that he made her laugh shocked him completely.
"I'd like to see you and Paimon interact in a friendly exchange one day. What kind of nickname will she have for you?" A heavy emphasis on friendly. She was beaming at him.
This wasn't the right reaction to someone who had just described to her his 104th way of how to kill her—which was actually feeding her a spoiled radish soup.
"Although, I haven't considered that idea. It might be like feeding a bird with scraps of eggs. Haven't you thought about how Paimon would taste? The Traveler jokingly referred to her as emergency food. Now that's food for thought."
If she was roasted in a pit, I wouldn’t try to get a taste. He responded to her in his mind. She was too lowly, even as food.
Nahida laughed, then she asked, “What’s the name of a bored animal? Boar!”
He shot her a look of exasperation and disgust.
He sharpened his horrible attitude. Whenever the Traveler visited—he could sense her bewilderment at Nahida’s insistence on keeping him.
The majority would’ve given up on him by now but Nahida was different. He could never dim her down, she was too bright. It annoyed him, it blinded him and he wished she'd go away.
But he had no choice, but to see through this.