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In nearly every new village they passed through, Rey unintentionally made himself a target. It was sometimes for the obvious reason - that he was the prince of the kingdom and surely would fetch a handsome random from the palace - but more often it was because no matter how hard he tried to blend in, there was something that always stood out about Rey. He didn’t walk or talk like a normal person, having been trained from birth to behave as royalty. He spoke with an incredibly polite and educated tone while also a startling amount of authority (and often, rudeness) for such a young man. He not-so-subtly donated large sums of money to beggars on the street and of course, there was the tall, white haired man who always followed behind him. So no matter how little Rey tried to draw attention to himself, he frankly did a horrible job at it.
This was why, yet again, he’d managed to land himself in a basement with his hands tied behind his back so tightly he knew it would leave marks. He also knew Felix would rescue him because he always did. He’d surely yell at Rey for being stupid and rescuing that kid from drowning yesterday when he did, but what was Rey supposed to do, watch her die? Besides, it wasn’t the kid’s fault that her dad ended up being a maniac who only had eyes for Rey’s money and not the fact that his kid had almost been a gonner.
It was very, very cold in the basement though, and Rey had been running a fever even before he’d leapt into the freezing water yesterday. Felix had admonished him as he toweled Rey off and sat him in front of the inn’s fireplace to warm up. “That was very stupid of you,” Felix scolded him. “I take my eyes off of you for one second and you feel the need to give yourself pneumonia.”
“I’m fine,” Rey said, pushing Felix away and grabbing the towel to take care of himself. “If you’re just going to scold me then bug off. I haven’t got anything to say to you.” Felix rolled his eyes and smacked Rey on the side of the head, eliciting a pointed “Ouch!” from Rey. It wasn’t normal behavior for a prince and his knight to act this way, but their relationship was different and, increasingly, complicated. Rey’s parents were growing impatient waiting for him to find a wife, but Rey found all of the women he’d met intolerable. The only person he could palate looking at for that long as Felix, but he was afraid of what that meant. He wasn’t ready to face it, and that was whether it had been Felix or anybody else. To love someone meant he would have to dig deeper into the parts of himself that were missing, and Rey couldn’t bring himself to do that. It was a slippery slope too long and terrifying for him to dare investigating just yet.
He shivered. The damp, dark room smelled of mold and still water. Something about it put Rey terribly on edge. It was almost as if he’d been here before. He felt a sense of dread that something much worse than that from a random farmer who wanted to make a few quick gold coins. There was a drip, drip, drip in the background, the location of which he couldn’t place. It drove him mad. Between his growing fever and the disorientation of being in the dark, Rey slowly lost his sense of time and place as he fell asleep.
He was back there now. In the dungeon at the bottom of a long, stone set of stairs. At the top, a set of iron gates with a lock that clattered every time someone opened it and came down to get one of them. It clicked open now and they could hear footsteps growing closer and louder. Rey and the other children were at the bottom, terrified of who would be the unlucky soul or souls chosen to endure the cruel science experiments today. Rey held Lyra close to his chest, her small body trembling in fear.
One of the scientists pointed at her. Rey held her tight and shook his head. “Not today,” he begged. “She’s tired. Take me instead.” The scientist said nothing, just jabbed his finger forward again at the little girl. Rey knew they could speak his language, but their native language was something he couldn’t understand. “I’ll drink it. The potion from last time.” Last time, when they’d handed him a vial of something that was bright red like fresh blood. Rey, terrified that it was blood, had pushed it away and smashed it on the floor. They hadn’t liked that very much and had punished him harshly for his defiance.
Whatever it was, they must have really wanted him to drink it because the scientist, after a long hesitation, nodded and motioned for Rey to follow. Rey squeezed Lyra and then let go, following the cloaked man up those steep, stone stairs to the top. His stomach ached with dread of what he was about to endure, but at least Lyra was safe for today. The iron gate rattled and then slammed shut behind them.
Rey was dragged down the long corridors which were polished and bright unlike their underground prison. He wanted nothing more than to run, but where would he possibly go? He didn’t know where the exits were. Back to the basement? It would achieve nothing.
Rey was strapped to a long metal table with leather belts across his wrists and ankles. Despite Rey doing this voluntarily, it seemed they weren’t going to take their chances letting him break the vial again. One of the scientists came forward with that same red liquid as before. It looked even more sickeningly like blood than it did the first time, Rey thought. “What is it?” Rey asked, even though he knew they wouldn’t answer.
A funnel was shoved into his mouth, the tip touching the back of his throat and making him gag. The liquid was then poured down. A horrible, painful sensation immediately spread from his stomach to his entire body. Rey tried to scream, but his mouth was still pried open and he couldn’t pull the funnel out by any means. It seemed there was no more fluid to pour though, and the funnel was yanked unceremoniously out. Rey gasped in pain. “It’s burning,” he cried out, tears streaming down his face. “It’s burning, make it stop.”
Of course, they did nothing. The point was to see what this concoction could do to a person, after all. Rey struggled against his restraints but felt himself growing weaker by the second until suddenly he felt as if he could not longer move his arms and legs at all. He had no control over his body and began to convulse. He bit his tongue; bloody froth spewed forth from his mouth. All Rey could think was, ‘Someone, please, anyone, help me!’
Rey woke up screaming. The farmer ran downstairs and hit him with a whip meant for the cattle he tended to all day long. Rey shut up immediately. He could handle pain; the nightmares were ten times worse. He couldn’t remember the details as soon as he opened his eyes, but he could remember the fear. The feelings of hopelessness and desperation needed no specific memory for him to be tortured by them still.
“Shut up!” The farmer snapped. The crack of the whip hitting Rey once, twice, three times echoed in the mostly empty basement. “My family will hear if you make too much noise and I know how to make you regret it.”
Rey stared at him with piercing blue eyes, unphased. He’d heard every threat before. Nothing could match what he’d gone through during those two years, he knew this regardless of the state of his memories. It made him bold in the face of danger, much to Felix’s chagrin.
“It’ll be much better for you if you just let me go,” Rey said confidently. His vision was swimming and he felt dizzy. The sting of where the whip had gotten him throbbed on his back, ribs and forearm. For talking back, the farmer gave him one lash more for good measure and then left in an angry huff. Rey sighed and lay back down on the hard floor. He had only been honest - Felix was not a merciful man when it came to protecting him. Rey shivered and curled into a ball, trying to keep warm. At some point his body allowed him to sleep once again, and as always, he dreamed.
It had always been cold, back there. At least it kept the smell away, otherwise it would have stunk of unwashed bodies, human excrement and rotting flesh. Someone was always dying, and someone had always just died. That's what it felt like, anyways. Originally there were ten of them. Then one by one their hearts gave out, usually long after their souls had and in Rey’s arms once he could no longer muster up the strength to heal them. Some of them begged Rey to stop - they said it wasn't worth living this existence any longer.
“No,” Rey had told them determinedly. “We're getting out of here someday and that's that. No one is giving up.”
In retrospect, perhaps he should have let them die when they’d had some semblance of dignity left. After all, Rey hadn't been able to save a single one of them. His ability to heal - to keep them alive - was an abomination of nature. Rather than possessing the inborn talent to be a healer, this power had been given to Rey by force by the scientists so that they could continue their experiments far beyond the normal realm of mortal limits. He hardly knew how to control it, and it was such a bastardized version of the real thing that it caused him immense suffering each time he used it. Nevertheless, Rey continued to try and keep all of his companions alive until he no longer could. Usually he’d place his hands on their chest and try and try until he collapsed. Several times he woke up to find their body cold and stiff underneath his own, a mix of their and his own blood drying on their skin.
Rey tried to hide his suffering from the others, but especially Lyra, who was the youngest. She and Rey had been the very first to arrive in the dungeon and they had a special bond. Rey didn't want her to witness how blood poured from his mouth and nose when he pushed himself beyond his limits trying to heal the others; how he suffered from terrible, impossibly high fevers afterwards; how the scientists would drag dead bodies up the stairs with no care in the world for what soul they'd contained before that. Rey promised he would protect her again and again, all the way up until the day that she too died in his arms.
By the time Felix arrived Rey had dreamed about all of this several times over; woken up in terror and then forgotten what was so scary in the first place on repeat. All he was left with was the fear and dread that he couldn’t process, because he couldn’t remember the specifics to work through it in the first place. His memory loss was a blessing and a curse. Although it allowed him to continue living without being overwhelmed by his past, he still carried the burden of his trauma and had no way to begin to understand how to leave it behind.
Felix knew this, but he never pushed Rey to remember anything. He didn’t want Rey to return to the catatonic state his parents had described to him before they’d erased Rey’s memories as a final effort to keep him alive. And he didn’t know how Rey might react to the realization that it was he who had helped Rey escape and sacrificed himself so that Rey could get away; that he’d known all of Rey’s past from the day they’d reunited. Still, he hadn’t let Rey die back then and he certainly wasn’t going to now.
Felix had beaten the farmer who had taken Rey to a pulp in his own living room while his little girl watched in horror. She’d recognized Felix when he came to the door as the companion to the one who had saved her before. “Big brother!” She said excitedly, but she was stopped by the cold look in his eyes, entirely different from the one she had seen yesterday.
“Close your eyes,” Felix had told her. Then he grabbed her father by the back of the neck and kneed him in the stomach. She screamed in horror; her eyes were wide open. Felix drowned it out. His priority was finding Rey.
It didn’t take long to finish punishing the man and for him to spill where the key was to the basement. He was weak; Felix was disgusted that Rey had allowed himself to be taken by such a weak person. He might have excused Rey because of the cold he’d been fighting off for days now were this not such a common occurrence. Rey could have tried harder to help himself, Felix thought in annoyance.
When Felix reached Rey in the basement he found his charge to be much worse off than yesterday after a night spent in such cold and damp conditions. Rey’s fever was high and he seemed confused. “Felix?” He asked dazedly. “What’re you doing here?”
“Rescuing your sorry ass, again ,” Felix said briskly. He picked Rey up in his arms bridal style as he often did, then climbed up the stairs. The farmer was still unconscious, but there was the little girl that Rey had saved at the top of the stairs. Her face was streaked with tears and in her hand held an enormous butcher’s knife larger than she knew how to weild.
Felix sighed. He understood how this might look to her. “Little girl,” he said, “Your father is a thief. I’m taking Rey home now.”
“He’s not! You’re lying!” She shouted at him.
“I don’t lie,” Felix said. “He was trying to steal our money. Perhaps this will teach him a lesson.”
The little girl let out a loud sob. “My papa would never do something like that!” She cried. Then plunged the knife into Felix’s upper thigh - the highest she could reach. Felix could have easily dodged it, but he made no attempt to. He had Rey in his arms and he wanted to teach her a lesson: what happened when one relied on violence to get what they wanted. Blood poured from his leg onto the wooden floor where it would absorb deep into the cracks and forever leave a stain. The girl seemed startled that she had caused such bloodshed. She dropped the knife and began to cry.
He looked coolly at her. “Your father has taught you that violence is the way to solve all of your problems,” Felix said. “But you had better learn otherwise before it’s too late.”
Suddenly Rey toppled out of Felix’s arms before Felix had time to realize he’d woken up. “Lyra,” Rey gasped desperately, crawling towards her. He was a sorry sight, delirious and pulling himself closer and closer, nothing like her handsome savior from yesterday. She looked afraid, took a step backwards, and then ran out of the open front door as fast as she could. Rey looked baffled, more so when he realized he now had Felix’s blood on his hands and knees.
“Felix?” Rey asked, looking up in pure confusion. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’ll be fine,” Felix said. It was a flesh wound, and nothing compared to what he had suffered before. Although the knife was large, the little girl had lacked the strength to do any real damage which was largely why he’d allowed her to stab him. However Rey, in his delirium, seemed to see a much more severe picture. In his mind he saw blood everywhere; he saw Felix dying, and he had to fix it before he was all alone again. He grabbed the wound with both hands, causing Felix to flinch. “Rey, what are you doing? Don’t touch it.”
A blue light emanated from Rey’s hands and his eyes flashed golden. He was healing Felix, Felix realized with a start. “Rey, no, stop,”Felix said quickly. “You’re going to make yourself worse.” But it was too late. He could feel the cut had closed and with that, Rey’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell into a heap on the floor.
“Such a fool,” Felix groaned, getting onto his knees to take Rey into his arms. Rey didn’t answer; his fever, bad before, was now raging with a fire that Felix had only ever felt come from Rey after using his magic. He’d likely be down for days now, Felix thought with annoyance. Felix picked Rey up and carried him out of the house, kicking the door closed behind him with one foot. They wouldn’t be back. The farmer would be fine, and although they had certainly traumatized his daughter, she was not their responsibility.
Felix carried Rey bridal style back to the inn at the center of the village. They got several stares on the way - Felix with his blood soaked pants and Rey limp in his arms. They returned to their room and Felix cleaned Rey up and then put him to bed. Rey was twitching and his breath was shallow and uneven. Felix felt for his pulse and found it present, but thready. It was much like he remembered Rey’s state back then, when they’d first met.
After Rey’s nine other companions died, the scientists had needed someone new to experiment on - and give Rey a reason to stay alive. That was how Felix had ended up in that prison too, although he was not there long before he helped Rey escape. Felix was older and had already been a warrior before he met Rey, whose condition was so poor and whose spirit was so broken by the time he arrived that Rey surely would have died without help. Felix had sacrificed his own chance at freedom the day he told Rey to run, and remained there for another two months before he, too, was able to escape.
It took him years to find Rey again, only to realize he was the elusive prince of their own kingdom. Rey needed someone to protect him and Felix jumped at the chance to apply. After countless trials, the final piece of the selection process was meeting Rey’s parents, the king and queen. Why did Felix want this job so badly, they asked him?
“I believe it an honor and a privilege to serve the throne,” Felix had given the typical answer. But then he added, “And I believe there is something special about Prince Alistor. Something different. Were I to be by his side, I would consider it my duty to serve all of him, not just the piece that one can see with the naked eye.”
Rey’s parents had exchanged glances and nodded. They had proceeded to tell Felix that Rey had been captured for several years and came back so traumatized that after countless efforts from doctors and healers all over the kingdom, they’d resorted to wiping Rey’s memory in order to save his life. “My son is special,” the King said carefully. “He requires particular care and patience. His mind is fragile and he needs someone to protect him from his own mind just as much as he needs someone to guard him physically. Can you provide this for him?”
“I can. I certainly believe that I can,” Felix said.
They were convinced, and this was how Felix came to be Rey’s protector and companion. It didn’t matter to him if Rey never remembered him from before. From their very first interaction all those years ago, Felix had become fascinated with the young prince and had realized his life’s purpose was to be by Rey’s side. No matter what.
Rey groaned, stirring in his sleep. His eyes fluttered open and he reached for something unknown above him. Felix knew he wasn’t living in the present, but the terror in his eyes was real. He took Rey’s hand in his own. “Rey,” he said gently. “You’re safe. We’re free. Rest.”
Rey looked at him, confused at first and then his face relaxed in recognition. “Felix,” he said weakly. “You’re here.”
“Indeed,” Felix said, lowering their intertwined hands. A calm and relaxed look fell over Rey’s face which had been pinched with worry up. “Sleep, Rey. I’m not going anywhere.” And with that reassurance, Rey fell into a more peaceful sleep for a time. Whenever he grew stressed, Felix was there to comfort him once again. The day that Rey found someone he really wanted to marry, Felix thought to himself, then maybe Rey wouldn’t need him anymore. But until that day he would be there, ever steady by Rey’s side.