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Rythian is tired. He doesn’t get tired, but he is. His head pounds, his stomach aches, and his vision swims. When was the last time he felt like this?
Before he got control of his magic, surely. Before he had the rings and the amulets that keep him alive.
It would have been when he was young. After first stumbling out of the end, covered in his own blood and sobbing, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe. His head hurt, his stomach growled with hunger and his eyes blurred with the tears. Nothing made sense. He didn’t know where he was.
He wandered, eating nothing but rotting apples fallen from trees, until he found a settlement, someone who would take him in. They saw this tired young boy covered in purple blood and didn’t turn him away. Who was it that took him in? He doesn’t remember now. When they asked him if he had a family, he said no.
After that, fed and bathed and well-slept, he vowed never to feel that helpless again. No matter what it took, he would not be in a position of such pain. He would die first.
And he did. Sjin and Lalna blew him and everything he had built sky-high. The cloning machine Xephos has bullied into giving DNA to had spat him out by a lake, without a resource to his name.
He had nothing.
Except his will, and his burning anger. He was not helpless. He could get back at them, ruin their lives like they ruined his.
Getting his power back was not hard. Getting more was not hard either. He doesn’t need to sleep or eat. Even when Zoey insists he have some mushroom soup or come lie on the bed with her for a while.
Insisted. Past tense. She doesn’t live here anymore.
Rythian sits down on the floor. Oh. Maybe that’s why he aches so much. He has been doing magic experiments non-stop for days now. No rest, no time to recharge his mana. He does need to do that, despite his insistence that he is unstoppable. Nothing is unstoppable, except the passage of time.
He knows that too well. Sometimes he wishes he had some sort of magic watch that will let him go back and change things. With Zoey, with his mama, with Lalna and Sjin. Maybe he could have talked them out of that war. Maybe Zoey could have.
She was smart and sweet. Despite his reassurances that he was fine, she could always tell when he wasn’t. When he needed a moment, a snack, some rest. He doesn’t need to sleep, but he likes to, with her back pressed against his chest, lungs and heart moving against his. Proof she’s alive.
Is she alive now? Of course she is, he’d know if she wasn’t. Someone would have told him. He’d feel it in his heart, or some sentimental nonsense.
He needs to get a grip. Tired? No. He needs to work harder, to get more power so he doesn’t feel like this anymore.
First Lalna, then Sjin. Then anyone else who gets in his way.
Including Zoey.
When Rythian wakes up on the floor, he doesn’t remember how he got there. He’s in his magic room, as Zoey called it. It’s one of the few rooms in the castle that still has a roof, so he mostly stays in here. His eyes are blurry, but there’s someone standing in front of him. For a second, he thinks it’s -
“Zoey?”
“Not quite.” A female voice says. There aren’t very many women who live around here. She’s tall-ish, blonde, wearing a brown hat and a blue shirt with grey trousers. There’s the distinct smell of jungle dirt emanating off of her.
“Lom.” Rythian slurs. “Fuck are you doin’ ‘ere?”
“Making sure you aren’t dead.” Lomadia crouches down beside him and puts her hand on his forehead. He doesn’t have the strength to bat her away. “Fuck me, dude, you’re burning up.”
“‘M fine.” Rythian finds enough strength to push himself up and away from her. “Who sent you? Lalna?”
“I don’t take orders from him, you know that.” Lomadia wrinkles her nose at the mention of her wayward cousin. “No, I was just passing by and saw that this place was falling down. I thought you and Zoey must have abandoned it.”
“You were gonna steal my shit.” He accuses.
“Well, if I found some things left behind…” She shrugs. “But seeing as you’re still here, where’s Zoey? Clearly you need someone looking after you.”
“She left.” He says bluntly as he struggles to his feet. The last thing he wants to talk about is him and Zoey breaking up. Not that they were ever together, really. He didn’t love her - he doesn’t love anyone.
“Ah.” She nods. “Nilesy didn’t mention it.”
“I didn’t tell him.” Rythian says. By the sounds of it, neither did Zoey. Maybe she just hasn’t seen Nilesy, or didn’t consider leaving Rythian something worth mentioning.
“Right.” Lomadia stands up with him. “Can I do anything for you?”
“You can fuck off and leave me alone.” He suggests.
“Alright.” She agrees. “I’ll be back in a few days to make sure you’re not dead.”
“Why?” He doesn’t understand why she would care.
“I think Zoey would be upset if I let you die.” Lomadia shrugs. “And I wanna rob your stuff if you kick the bucket.”
“Thought so.”