Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bloody Skies	By : TokiMirage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 44832 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter. Everything else is mine. I do not make any money writing this fic.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Bloody Skies
oOo
Chapter Twenty-Two:
oOo
“What? What do you mean I can’t come with you?”
Cyrus let out a breath, trying to quell his nerves. It wasn’t exactly like he was excited to venture so close to discovery. Not that Ashawyn knew anything about his situation… and he’d rather keep it that way. “It’s nothing personal. I’d just rather meet you back here once I’m done. You have my number, so it won’t be very hard to contact me if we can’t find one another in the market.”
Ashawyn didn’t look happy, but eventually he nodded. “Fine. I don’t see what the big deal is, but I’ll stay here. Maybe buy some…” He paused, a small smirk quirking his lips. “Yes, I am rather low on those.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow but said nothing, not wanting to jinx it. “Alright. See you in around half an hour, then. I can’t see it taking much longer than that unless there’s a line.”
The fae nodded, so Cyrus disapparated to his rooms at Shikaan. After taking a quick look around to make sure none of his friends were ‘visiting’ again, he started casting spells to change his appearance. His skin turned pale white from the tanned shade, and his dirty blond hair darkened to a light brown. Lastly, he changed his eyes to gray blue. Once he’d found his key, safely stored inside his trunk, he disapparated to Diagon Alley.
It was… quiet when he popped in. And four in the afternoon. He was lucky there was such a time difference between Britain and Shikaan, otherwise he would never have been able to get into the bank today. Glancing around himself for potential danger, the hairs on the back of his neck rising from the lack of joy and noise he was familiar with, he made his way through the nearly empty streets. A few groups of people moved quickly from store to store, staying together and casting uneasy looks around themselves. After deeming them nonthreatening, Cyrus ignored them and made his way to Gringotts.
The bank was just as dead inside as outside. At least there were no lines. It made him wonder what had killed business so thoroughly. Was the fear of Voldemort really so strong that they wouldn’t even venture outdoors for fear of Death Eater attacks? He’d read a couple papers, especially after the attack on the Ministry, but it was one thing knowing about the state of affairs and another thing entirely witnessing it himself. Apparently there had been a few raids on public locations, but nothing compared to the attack on the Ministry.
Letting out a breath, he walked up to the closest goblin and slid his key across the counter. The goblin examined it, its eyebrows furrowing after a moment in a scowl before it looked up sharply and narrowed its eyes at him. “Any other proof of identification?” it drawled, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
Cyrus’s eyebrows rose. “What kind of proof are we talking about?”
“Legal documents… identifying features…”
Letting out a sigh, Cyrus closed his eyes and changed his eyes back to their original killing curse green. He opened them for one second before closing them again and changing them back to blue. “Is that sufficient?”
The goblin sneered. “That will be enough… sir. Barshank will take you to your vault.” His key was handed to the new goblin, and Cyrus moved quickly to keep up with the short but fast legs.
The trip to his trust vault was uneventful. As he had no reason to go to his family vaults, the trip was much shorter than last time. With a five minute rail cart ride later, in both directions, he was in and out of the bank in less than twenty minutes with an endless pouch filled with a larger amount of gold than Arthur Weasley had probably made in the past twenty years. It still felt weird to actually have money, and even though he was filthy rich, he never spent it on anything unless he really needed it. He was even reluctant to spend it on clothes. After all, what was wrong with some cheap T-shirts? Shikaan wasn’t exactly clothing-friendly.
“Good evening, sir!” a familiar voice called out. Cyrus blinked in alarm and turned to his left. He’d been lost in his thoughts and hadn’t just disapparated straight away like he’d originally planned.
The blood drained from his face at the sight of Fred (or was it George?) Weasley.
“It’s surprising to see a Hogwarts student out on the streets of Diagon Alley. You not worried about the Death Eater attacks?”
Cyrus blinked. “I’m not from Hogwarts.”
The redhead’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? Of course you’re not.” He winked. “Don’t worry mate, I’ll not tell anyone I saw you, but only if you come take a look at our selection of prank and protection items.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Protection items?”
Fred wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Why yes, my good sir. Care to take a browse?”
Cyrus glanced around the dead alley. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” He still had around ten minutes before Ashawyn started wondering where he was, after all. And maybe he could find out a bit of current events from someone living it instead of the horrible Daily Prophet.
“Wonderful!” Fred exclaimed, motioning him to follow. After a few moments, Cyrus was walking into the most garishly painted shop he’d ever laid eyes on. “Welcome to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the best joke shop in Diagon! The good-looking chap behind the counter is Forge, and I’m Gred Weasley. Would you like a tour?”
Cyrus shrugged. Why not? “Thanks, but just a quick look. I have to meet someone pretty soon.”
Gred nodded with a grin and started bustling around the shop, pointing at different items and explaining what each did. Forge at the counter often cut in, and as if Cyrus had never left, he was watching the ping-pong of conversation pass back and forth at light speed. He had to stay on his toes to keep up.
Cyrus had to admit he was impressed with their selection. They’d definitely expanded their… ‘candy’ section. As they went through the stock, he picked up a couple boxes of chocolates. After all, with the amount of people constantly letting themselves into his rooms, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few innocent traps laying in wait. “Do any of these treats have bad effects on vampires or werewolves?” he asked in a moment of silence between the twins, forgetting for a moment where exactly he was. It wasn’t until he got a few moments of silence that he looked up and realized his stupidity. Most magic-folk in Britain had no idea that Other Realm even existed, and most were afraid of werewolves and vampires. Well, he knew that the twins wouldn’t exactly be afraid of werewolves – they knew Remus after all – but he wasn’t so sure what they’d think about vampires.
“To be honest, mate-“
“-we’ve never tried,” they finally answered, trading looks with one another.
Cyrus nodded and picked up a fake wand. With a small, amused smile, he waved it and watched as it turned into a flopping rubber chicken. Twisting its left foot, he watched it turn back into a wand and grabbed a handful of them. He looked back and forth between the boxes of chocolates in his arms and the wands in his hand and was surprised when a basket appeared in front of him, held by one of the twins. He nodded his thanks, put his choices inside, and continued browsing.
Getting pulled into the familiarity of pranks, he went searching for the fireworks and portable swamp he remembered from sixth year when they were trying to get rid of Umbridge. When he found the swamp, he was surprised to see a handful of other environmental pranks: portable lake, portable mist, portable smoke, portable forest, portable mud… they even had a portable graveyard. Raising an eyebrow, he grabbed a handful of each – you never know when it might be useful – and put them in his basket. Casting a quick tempus, he winced and cast a forlorn look at the other pranks. Well, what would it hurt? He stuffed some more items at random before making his way to the counter. Just as he was taking out his bottomless pouch of coins – he’d already filled a separate bag with the hundred galleons for the seamstress, so he didn’t have to worry about overspending and having to go back to the bank – he froze at the sight of a poster behind the till.
U-No-Poo
Why are you worrying about You-Know-Who?
You should be worrying about U-No-Poo - the Constipation Sensation that's gripping the nation!
“What is that?” he asked before he realized his mouth was even moving.
The twins turned their heads to see what he was staring at before they grinned. “That? That my friend-“
“-is our version of a poster-“
“-that the Ministry put out.”
Cyrus’s lips stretched into a grin. Oh right. He remembered it now, from last year. “I’d like to see the original poster. Must have been terrible.”
The twins nodded sagely. Well, as sagely as they could with such wide grins splitting their faces. “Is that everything-“
“-good sir?”
Cyrus nodded and watched as the twins pulled all the items out of the basket and started ringing them in. The twin not at the till was bagging his items. He’d ended up getting quite a bit more than he’d planned. Maybe now would be a good opportunity to fish for some information? “So, why’s it so dead in the alley.”
The twins looked at him funny. “What? How can you not know?” the one bagging his items asked, jerking this thumb back at the poster they’d just been laughing over.
Cyrus laughed and rubbed the nape of his neck. “Well, I mean, I know about You-Know-Who being about and everything. I’m not really from around here, you see. I don’t know much about what’s going on in Britain. I only occasionally read that paper of yours, what is it called… the Daily something-rather?”
“Daily Prophet.”
“Ah yes, that one.”
The twins shared looks. “Well, what do you want to know?”
Cyrus smiled weakly. “Well… I heard that You-Know-Who is about again. And that he attacked the Ministry. How bad is it, really?”
“Well… people are disappearing. There are raids nearly every week, usually on muggleborn families. Sometimes important people at the Ministry are… targeted. And there have been around five attempts on Minister Scrimgeour’s life so far. He only just barely survived the last one.”
Cyrus widened his eyes. “Really? Wow. What’s the government doing to stop him?”
The twins scowled. “Not much. People are still getting killed. As it is, most people are afraid to even leave their houses. Not that that will protect them.”
Cyrus put a sympathetic frown on his face. “How are you two getting through this? You’re rather young. Recently graduated?”
They grinned. “Dropped out.”
Cyrus raised his eyebrows. “Really? Wow. You’re doing pretty well here on your own, though. How’d you get this amazing joke shop started?”
He kept the amused smile off his face at the sight of them puffing their chests at the compliment. Well, they puffed for a little while, before they thought of the question in more detail and a dark look crossed their faces. “A… someone who used to be a friend helped. Financially.”
Cyrus frowned. “Used to be?”
“That’ll be thirty-three galleons-
“-and twelve sickles, please.”
Cyrus blinked. Oh right, this wasn’t exactly a topic that they would want to talk about with a ‘stranger’, was it? Saying nothing, he counted out thirty-five galleons and put them on the counter. Taking the bags containing his purchases, he shrank them before slipping them into his bottomless bag. “Thanks. Keep the change. It was nice talking to you.” He walked towards the door.
“Have a good day, sir!”
“And watch out for those Death Eaters-“
“-and U-No-Poo!”
Cyrus smiled half-heartedly and waved as he went through the door. “Will do.” As soon as he was out, he slipped into a nearby alley and disapparated with a quiet pop. After dropping off his purchases in his rooms and changing his appearance back to that of Cyrus Obsidian, he went back to Gemini Square.
Ashawyn was waiting for him at the shop, magi-com in hand and typing something into it. Cyrus waved his hand in front of the fae’s eyes, snapping him out of his intense texting. The ice fae blinked. “Oh. You’re back.”
The human raised an amused eyebrow. “Yes. I’m back. How about I leave you to your texting and I go pay for this armor of mine?”
“That’s not necessary. I will come with you,” Ashawyn said, closing the device and slipping it into his pocket.
Cyrus shrugged and walked into the store. Catching sight of the little old lady, he waved to try to get her attention. After a moment, she caught sight of him and said something in that foreign language again. Ashawyn behind him snorted. Cyrus frowned. “What. What’d she say?”
The apprentice grinned. “Well, the direct translation doesn’t exactly make sense. Basically, she’s surprised you came back.”
Eyeing the innocent expression for a moment, Cyrus snorted. “Yeah. Right.” He reached into his bottomless bag and pulled out the large bag of coins. It was rather heavy, so he dropped it onto the counter with a loud thump.
The old lady muttered a spell and tapped the bag with her wand. The appropriate sum appeared in golden letters, floating above. She eyed him for a moment, her expression inscrutable, but eventually nodded her head in what was, for her, probably a sign of respect. She barked something at Ashawyn and the fae took him by the arm.
“She said she’ll have it done in two weeks and to stop- well, to leave her shop.”
Cyrus grunted noncommittally and let himself be gently led through the crowd. Since it was around nine or ten at night in Gemini Square, which was on a different time than Shikaan, the streets were lit with colorful lights and lanterns. He found it interesting how Other Realm stores catered to both day and nighttime dwellers.
“You hungry? I know we already ate dinner at Shikaan, but I happen to know a good place not too far from here. They serve really good Sylkich food. Basically, demon food that’s really spicy.”
Cyrus frowned. “How spicy are we talking? Because I don’t want my tongue burned off, thanks. I prefer mild.”
Ashawyn smiled. “You can ask for different levels of spice. They have a lot of different species to cater to, after all. Fae taste buds are fairly sensitive, you see, so I would have to ask for a mild dish as well.”
“Well… alright.” The human shrugged. Why not? It sounded interesting.
When they were waiting for their food to arrive, Ashawyn started… shifting. Nervously. Cyrus, who had never seen him act similar to this before, got sick of it after five minutes of awkward silence. “Alright! What is it? You’ve been twitching ever since he walked away with our orders.”
Ashawyn’s cheeks turned slightly pink, and he grinned. “I’m that obvious am I?”
Cyrus gave him a ‘well, duh’ expression.
“Alright, well… you see, I’ve wanted to ask you this for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you…” The fae trailed off and watched Cyrus’s face carefully. “Will you spend the weekend of Valentines day with me? I was thinking we could go for a hike up to this really nice hot spring and just relax. You’ve been looking rather… worn, lately.” At Cyrus’s raised eyebrow, he blathered on, “That is, not to say that you’re not as attractive as you’ve always been, I just meant… that…” he trailed off when he Cyrus shaking with laughter.
The human shook his head and smiled, amused. “I’m not a girl, Ashawyn. You can say I look like shit and it won’t hurt my feelings.” Seeing that the fae was about to interrupt, he plowed on, “I would love to spend a relaxing weekend with you. Things have been rather… crazy this past month. I think January was the worst month of my life.”
As Cyrus laughed, Ashawyn asked, “Was it really that bad?”
The human snorted. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
Blue eyes watched him curiously. “Really?”
Cyrus nodded and sipped from his fruit drink, staring into space. Yankovich just popping into his room out of nowhere, asking about Voldemort. The incident with Dumbledore. Saving Marianna while avoiding a zombie army. Though, watching Voldemort flip out like that was amusing as hell. Those Akkad investigators attacking him. Tara’s Trial. Remus getting poisoned. Saving Severus. Getting bitten by a vampire and almost dying. Discovering that, apparently, he was ill; though no one knew what the hell was wrong with him. Saving Xanthir from his crazy family. Healing a bunch of sick kids. He rubbed a hand over his face. Yeah, he could definitely use a vacation. Just thinking about it all was making him stressed.
But wait. “Valentines weekend… that’s not this weekend, right? Because I have survival training this whole weekend. It’s part of my Weapons and Battle class.”
Ashawyn shook his head. “No, it’s next weekend. Make sure to get as much of your homework done as you can so you can actually relax, too.” He smiled.
Cyrus snorted. Right. Like that was going to happen. “With survival training this weekend and taking the weekend off the next… well, let’s just say I might not manage to get everything done. Would you mind if I brought some of it with me?”
Ashawyn sighed. “It sort of defeats the purpose of a relaxing weekend when you have to do work.”
Cyrus sighed and stirred the ice chips in his fruit juice with the straw. Well, what else could he do this weekend that he’d been wanting to do for a while? His eyelids drooped in thought. Well, he’d been wanting to experiment with his magic sensitivity and necromancy for a while now and just hadn’t had the time. He needed more control with both of them, and Ashawyn was a necromancer’s apprentice, so… “Do you think you could help me a bit with my death magic instead then?”
Ashawyn frowned. “Instead of the weekend at the hot spring?”
“No, I mean, instead of the homework.”
The fae hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose I could. But we’re not spending all day doing that,” he warned.
Cyrus smiled. “No, that’s fine. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Their food came at that point, so further conversation was cut short by the absolutely delicious food teasing their noses. They dug in, trading tidbits about their lives. Ashawyn, who had never been to Shikaan, was at times fascinated or shocked by the curriculum and the teacher’s methods of instruction. Cyrus, interested in fae culture, had asked about the easiest way to learn some of the more often used languages in Other Realm. Apparently there were some summer programs you could do that helped integrate outsiders into the culture of Other Realm. Mostly it was for students and spouses from Human Realm, or for those whose parents didn’t know enough to teach them. Cyrus was contemplating doing one of the programs this summer, even though he had yet to decide if he was going to live in Other Realm or Human Realm. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to live in Other Realm, apparently there weren’t many colonies of humans that were self-sufficient, and they didn’t exactly welcome outsiders with open arms. Which meant it was more than likely he was never going to be able to cut all his ties with Human Realm.
After they finished eating, Ashawyn took him to the place that was most likely to have a Linmeyelle. At first the man was adamant that he didn’t sell any, but once the ice fae dropped Mikhail’s name he became far more agreeable. Cyrus watched for twenty minutes as the two bartered down the price of the innocent-looking rock down to a hundred galleons. He tried to ignore the way Ashawyn looked at the money enviously.
When they left the shop, Cyrus with his new Linmeyelle, there was nothing else that Cyrus needed to buy. Since Ashawyn wanted to browse a bit longer, they parted ways. Cyrus, who had quite a bit of homework to get ahead of because of survival training all Saturday and Sunday, locked himself in his room for the rest of the night and did homework.
oOo
“ALRIGHT YOU LAZY PACK OF FIGRISH, WE ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO PROVE THAT YOU CAN SURVIVE IN A HOSTILE ENVIRONMENT FOR TWO DAYS! AS YOU HAVE HAD A WEEK TO PREPARE FOR THIS EXERCISE, NO BITCHING AND MOANING! ONCE WE BEGIN, YOU WILL HAVE NO CONTACT WITH THE WORLD OUTSIDE THIS FOREST. IF YOU ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE WARDED AREA, YOU WILL FAIL THIS CLASS. IF YOU DIE, YOU WILL FAIL THIS CLASS. IF YOU ARE FATALLY WOUNDED AND I HAVE TO GO IN THERE TO DRAG YOUR SORRY ASS BACK TO SHIKAAN, YOU FAIL THIS TRAINING SESSION. ANY QUESTIONS!”
There was dead silence, so Welkins tossed a box into the middle of the crowd. “THESE ARE PORTKEYS INTO THE FOREST. TAKE ONE, AND ONE ONLY,” he barked again, his drill sergeant voice easily carrying across the clearing. “THEY WILL ACTIVATE ONE MINUTE AFTER YOU PICK THEM UP. SEE YOU IN TWO DAYS!”
Cyrus let out a breath and summoned a portkey to him, not wanting to try and push his way through the crowd. A piece of paper flew into his hand after a moment, and he waited on the sidelines for the portkey to activate, watching the rest of the class. Welkins stayed at the front, probably checking that everyone took a portkey. A few had tried to skip out on past obstacle course classes, but after the first time they never tried again. Cyrus wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what Welkins did to them, but they were the most eager to finish the courses after that.
Catching sight of Yalmireth in the crowd, he wondered whether he should wave hello or not. The demon still wasn’t talking to him, after all… But the decision was made for him when Yalmireth disappeared with his portkey. He didn’t have long to wait after that to disappear himself.
The section of forest he appeared in was near a creek. He could hear the quiet bells of water splashing over stones. While Shikaan still had snow on the ground, this forest only had a few patches in the deepest bits of shade, meaning they were quite a ways away from their usual territory. That meant he should be prepared for anything. Welkins hadn’t given the students any reason to be against one another, which probably meant that this forest was a lot more dangerous than it appeared to be. Underestimating Welkins was a stupid idea, and Cyrus didn’t entertain it for a moment. Closing his eyes, he spread out his senses. He’d experimented a few times with his magic sensitivity during the past week, but he was still mostly confused by whatever he managed to pick up at a given moment, and he had no depth perception at all. He could only tell how far away someone was if they were within ten meters of him, which didn’t give much warning when it came to avoiding danger in the woods.
What he could tell, though, is that there were more magical beings in this forest than there were students in his class. Which probably meant that either Welkins had set up people for them to fight against, or there were a lot of beasts wandering around. Or both.
At that moment, he felt movement behind him and jumped to the side. He was too slow to avoid getting his leg sliced, however, and since he had no armor he was already bleeding all over the place. Casting a quick healing charm, since he didn’t have the time or concentration at that very moment to heal all the damage, he brought out his wand and cast a slew of silent curses. He had no intention of drawing any more attackers to his position. Whatever had just attacked him let out a squeal and fell out of the tree it had been hiding in. Seeing that it was an animal, Cyrus cast a quick heart-exploding curse to finish it off. Holding his holly wand in one hand, he moved his left to cover the wound on his leg and started stitching it together and healing the damage. Once he finished a minute later, he cleaned up the blood with another wave of his hand and went closer to the animal he’d just killed.
It was the weirdest mix of ape and snake he’d ever seen. Not sure it was even edible, and having stores of food and water already packed into his bottomless and weightless basilisk skin pouches, he made his way away from the body before anything else came to investigate. Like babies looking for their mother, or an even bigger predator.
Not wanting to get caught off guard again, Cyrus took out his death stick and sheathed the holly. It was looking pretty likely at this point that he might need to shoot of an extremely powerful, destructive curse at a moments notice, and his phoenix feather wand wasn’t exactly built for that. Reaching for the dagger on his belt, he pulled it loose and held it in his right hand. He kept his senses aware at all times, as ten meter notice was better than no notice, and tried not to get killed.
Later that evening found him with may holes in his clothes, countless healed wounds, and a cave that he’d stolen from a pack of wild pig-looking things with wings. There was a fresh water pond nearby that the flying pigs had probably drank water from before he appropriated their home, and a couple fruit trees that he was tempted to eat from but not suicidal enough to try. He had enough food that he didn’t need to chance poisoning by accident. After casting stasis charms on the dead pigs to keep them from rotting and attracting more predators, he made the cave scent and sound tight, and cast as many wards as he knew to keep himself undetected and undisturbed for the night.
Letting out a relieved breath, he pulled out a bottle of water and drank it down. He also ate some protein bars to help his body repair itself. Healing magic only got you so far, after all, and his body needed to repair muscle and tissue damage that he’d sustained during the day.
Leaning back against the wall of the cave, he closed his eyes and let out a weary breath, trailing off into sleep.
He was rudely awoken by a set of teeth sinking into his leg. Letting out a frightened shout, his magic exploded out of his body and sent whatever had just attacked him flying into the wall. Creating some balls of light to illuminate the cave, he stared in shock at the sight of the flying pigs that he’d killed earlier that day slowly approaching them. Scrambling to his feet, he drew his death stick and cast curses to kill them, but nothing happened. They just kept on coming. His leg hurt, too, more than it should have with it being a simple… bite…
Eyes widening, he looked down at his leg and swore at the sight of a black wound. Zombies. They were fucking zombies. Running out of the cave, he held his death stick towards the opening and cast fiendfyre.
The explosion, stronger than he’d estimated, sent him flying back into a tree. Groaning, he tried to get his panic under control. They had no way to leave the forest, and no professional healers to keep them alive if they were wounded. But, it was zombies. Fucking- There was no fucking way that- It had to be a Shikaan student. Welkins wasn’t bat-shit crazy enough to send a fucking necromancer out here to kill his students. Someone in his Necromancy class was trying to kill him, and they were going to succeed if he didn’t get this zombie bite under control, fast.
Swearing some more under his breath, he tried to remember absolutely everything Svea had told him about healing zombie bites the last time he’d gotten bitten. Okay. First, he had to slow the flow of blood in the area. Zombie bites affected mostly the flesh itself, but if left alone for long enough the blood would transport bits of the dying flesh to other parts of your body and kill you. It was similar to poison, but not quite the same, as it was like a form of magical gangrene.
Once he’d isolated his leg and stopped flow of blood to the damaged areas altogether, he moved quickly to try to neutralize the dying flesh before it could spread. Unfortunately, whatever Svea had done to his leg wasn’t so easy to replicate. He hadn’t ‘felt’ the magic in so long that he had no idea how to even begin trying to ‘copy’ it. Fuck. Alright, what was the other option? He could just cut off all the dying flesh and then try to grow it back. That would be fucking painful, though. And he had no idea if necromancers could do something with their… he paused. He could control dead zombies… maybe he could draw the death magic from the wound? It was better than cutting off half of his leg.
Letting out a slow breath, he tried to relax. Taking the precious seconds it took to switch from his natural magic to death magic, he hoped to whatever gods out there that this worked. Calling his death magic to the surface, he reached for magic that was eating his leg like a five course meal.
It felt… a lot different than his own. He could almost taste the flavor of it. Spicy and angry. It was confused, too, though. It couldn’t tell whether his flesh was dead or alive anymore, and had stopped ‘eating’ the life in it. Fascinated, Cyrus called more of his magic to the surface and let it circulate through his body. The foreign magic became even more confused, and tried to ‘attack’ his magic. He had more of it, though, and he was far more powerful than the little bite trying to consume him. Throwing his magic at the infecting worm, he tried to push it from his body. It resisted. It had consumed those dead cells, and they were its, not Cyrus’s. Getting irritated, he smothered the magic with his own and absorbed it into his own death magic. With an almost audible shriek, it drowned in the ocean of power.
Turning to examine the dead flesh in his leg, Cyrus wondered what he was supposed to do now. Could he heal it with his magic? Did he just have to cut it off? Or could he ‘suck’ the death out of it like he’d done with the death magic itself? But it was supposed to be impossible to bring things back to life, too… Rubbing his forehead in confusion, he poked the gray flesh on his leg. It would probably just be easier to cut it out and regrow it at this point. How the hell had Svea healed his last wound, anyway.
Sighing, he sealed his death magic back in it’s core and let his natural magic flow freely through his body again. Curious, he tested his leg for movement. Apparently the muscles weren’t too badly damaged because he could still walk fine. Casting a quick spell that conjured gauze and wrapped it around the intended target, he figured it was best to get safe again before he settled down for a long-term healing. It appeared as though the fiendfyre had finished consuming the dead flesh, too, because the fires had died down while he’d been smothering the death magic in his leg.
Making his way back to the cave, he was surprised when he heard a gasped “help”. Turning to the left, where the sound had come from, he was surprised to see one of his classmates collapsed on the bank of the pond. Casting a wary glance around the dark forest around him that was illuminated only by the moon above, he made his way over to the gasping body.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, putting a hand on her arm. Her breathing was far too weak, and her skin felt feverish.
“P-poi… son… w-wat… ter.”
Alarmed, Cyrus pulled her farther away from the pond. It was poisoned? How the hell had that happened? It had to be recent, because the pigs were still alive when he found this cave. Had they done it before or after the zombies failed? Probably before. Poison was harder to trace back to an assailant compared to death magic. And he had a taste for his attacker now. He knew without a doubt, if he ever found that particular brand of death magic again, he would be able to recognize it.
But he had other things to worry about at that moment. Casting a levitating charm, he took her back to the cave, setting up the wards and charms all over again, as the fiendfyre had consumed them along with the dead flesh. Casting a small light to illuminate the student, he checked her eyes and confirmed that she was completely out of it. Closing his eyes, he sent his magic into her body to assess the situation.
The poison in her body was killing her quickly. If he didn’t move fast, she was going to be dead in less than ten minutes. Not wasting the energy to swear, he moved quickly to remove the poison from her major organs and brain as quickly as possible, not pausing for a single break. He started with her liver, which was already beginning to fail from the amount of toxin it was trying to remove from her bloodstream. Even though it was a very strong poison, he had to admit it was easier to remove than what had almost killed Remus and all those kids. It didn’t attack every single cell directly, instead its presence caused the body to fail as a whole, and while this allowed it to kill its victims faster, it also made it easier to remove.
Just over ten minutes later, Cyrus finished removing the last of the poison. He was tempted to burn it, but turning it into a mist to inhale could be just as deadly. Instead, he used wandless magic to banish it back into the pond outside. He would have to tell Welkins about the poisoning before too many animals died. He still couldn’t believe that someone was trying to kill him. And he still had all of tomorrow to survive this hellish forest before the wards were dropped and they could escape. And he had gangrenous bite on his leg. A gangrenous bite that he had no idea how to cure without cutting it out.
Letting out a sigh, he leaned back against the wall of the cave. He wasn’t falling asleep again until he got out of this place.
During the next five hours he entertained himself with the Runes book written by Rivehn himself about how runes and wild magic were different – the latter of which was a magic that was not driven by a logical formation of runes to create focus and meaning but instead through less concrete things like emotions and nature. With the sun rising and slipping into the cave, Cyrus’s patient finally awoke. He watched her as she frowned blearily, her body still tired from healing and the trauma it had been through after being poisoned. Slowly, she lifted her head and caught sight of him. She blinked.
“W-who?” she croaked.
Cyrus put his book down and reached into his pouch to pull out a bottle of water. Standing, he screwed off the lid as he made his way over to her. He hadn’t settled her far away, but he hadn’t known if she was a threat or not, so the distance had been a security blanket of a sort for him. Kneeling next to her, he held the bottle to her lips. She drank greedily, and he had to remind her a few times to take it easy; he wasn’t going anywhere.
When she’d finished the whole bottle, she let her head relax against the pillow he’d conjured for her earlier. He wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on her face, but she seemed quite happy to be alive. “What’s your name?” she asked with a dreamy smile.
He stared. “Cyrus Obsidian. What about you?”
“Delanie Laurent. You can call me Delanie, since you saved me from that poisoned water.” She nodded to herself and said with a completely straight face, “Poison is such a terrible way to die.”
Cyrus blinked. “Uh… huh. So how’d you get yourself poisoned, anyway?”
“Well, I was protecting this friend I made – he was cute, furry, and small, hardly able to protect himself sufficiently – when I was attacked by this monster that looked like an ape with scales,” she said in an airy, but serious voice. “When I dodged him, the claws caught my bag and it fell into a ravine. I hadn’t foreseen that… So I was getting a drink of water from this pond. It looked clean enough, and the spells I cast didn’t reveal anything wrong with it, and why would Welkins purposely sabotage a natural habitat? I know for a fact that he’s a tree hugger that supports animal rights. So I drank it, got poisoned, you saved me, and here we are. Do you want a reward?” She leaned forward with a questioning look on her face, showing off her little cleavage, and Cyrus took multiple steps back as a precaution.
“No, thanks. No reward necessary. I’d just like to survive this forest long enough to get home and get a good night’s sleep.”
She hummed thoughtfully. “I knew you’d say that, but the expression on your face was quite entertaining. Though I do wonder why someone would poison the pond. Do you have any idea? Is someone trying to kill you?”
Cyrus stared. “What? Kill me? What made you jump to that conclusion?”
She waved a hand dismissively and sat upright. “Oh my, this ground is rather charred. Did you have an accident last night? I recall a flash of light before the lights went out.”
Cyrus frowned. “Ah, yeah. Some zombies att-“
“Zombies? Out here? Oh my. So a necromancer really is out to kill you. How terrible. Did you get injured? Bite on the leg perhaps?” Without waiting for his response, she stood and pulled up his left pant-leg, revealing the bandage. “Oh dear, you really did. Terrible. If you don’t try to revascularize it, the tissue could die and you’d have to remove it, you know.”
Cyrus stared down into the matter-of-fact gray-blue eyes and frowned. “What? How- revascularization? You mean, blood flow?”
She blinked. “Yes, sure. That.”
“How the- how did- how do you know all this?”
She smiled vaguely, staring off to the side with a spacey expression. “I’m a clairvoyant. And you are many things. You might want to hurry up and do that blood flow thing. Oh hey, can I have one of those protein bars? I’m famished.”
Cyrus couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it. “Clairvoyant?” he asked numbly as he absently pulled out a protein bar and handed it to her. She unwrapped it and consumed it with a flat expression, nodding at his question. “So, what, you can see the future?”
She shook her head. “Not quite. I see flashes of possibilities. You could say… I’m a good guesser.”
“And why couldn’t you see that the water was poisoned?”
She shrugged. “A clairvoyant never sees images of themselves and their own future. As we all have the power of choice, I can see the futures of other people because they make choices based on their current knowledge and circumstances. However, if I were able to see my own future and make decisions based on it, my possible futures would become infinite and I would be driven insane. Thus, no visions of my future.”
Cyrus blinked. “Oh.”
She nodded. “You might want to start revascularizing. The longer you wait the more tissue isn’t going to be recovered.”
Cautiously, Cyrus sat down on the ground and started removing his bandages. When Delanie appeared to be content with munching on her protein bar and stealing his own bottle of water, half-drunk, he focused his attention on the dead tissue with a thoughtful frown. He knew what revascularization meant, but he’d never thought that it could be used to rejuvenate dead cells, just that occasionally you had to cut off blood flow to an area and then revascularize it when you were done. Mentally shrugging – it wasn’t like doing so would kill him or anything – he placed his hands over the wound and started pushing the blood back into the damaged areas. It started bleeding at once, obviously, but as he knit the flesh back together and revitalized the cells, he watched in amazement as the previously dead tissues began to come back to life. With a little gentle nudging from his magic, most of the tissue was saved and healed. He had to cut off some of the skin that had been torn the worst and attacked first by the zombie bite, but other than a barely visible scar, his leg was fine after fifteen minutes of heavy healing.
Opening his eyes after he finished, he was startled by the sight of Delanie’s face inches from his own, and by flinching backwards his head connected with the rock wall of the cave. Cursing under his breath, he rubbed the back of his head and glared at the girl across from him. “Some personal space, please?”
She nodded and moved back to her original position, as if she’d done nothing unusual. “You know, if you want to sleep, I can keep an eye out for the guy trying to kill you. You stayed awake most of the night, didn’t you?”
Cyrus frowned. “And how do I know you’re not going to… just leave, or kill me, or steal all of my stuff?”
She looked mildly surprised, as if it hadn’t even occurred to her. “Oh. Well, what’s the point of stealing your things when you’ll share your food with me? And what’s the point of making enemies with the guy who saved your life and is the most powerful human in our year? It’s illogical and pointless. I’ll go sit by the head of the cave and keep guard. You get some sleep.” She moved without waiting for his response.
Watching Delanie go, still not quite sure what to think about her, Cyrus yawned. It was true that he was dead tired after healing both Delanie and himself. Grabbing her pillow, he conjured himself a new mattress and rolled onto his side. After casting a dozen warning and proximity charms on his person and his belongings, he fell asleep.
And woke some hours later, feeling much better. A quick check with his magic sensitivity revealed that there was indeed someone sitting, stationary, at the head of the cave. Yawning, he stretched and forced himself to his feet. After vanishing the mattress and pillow before he was tempted right back into bed, he fished out another protein bar and bottle of water as he made his way to the head of the cave.
Delanie was sitting there, like a stone, staring into the woods. He wondered if she saw something he didn’t.
“Did you have a good sleep?”
Cyrus let out an amused snort of air. “Don’t you already know?”
She turned to him with that flat expression and cracked the smallest of smiles. “Yes, but it’s always nice to hear it.”
He sat down next to her on the ground and handed her another protein bar and bottle of water. He had to take a piss. “You been sitting here this whole time?”
She nodded. “I believe it is safest to remain here until the end of the survival training. The poisonous water has already killed some animals, and their corpses scare off other animals. It is unlikely that the creatures in these woods will venture close.”
Cyrus made a thoughtful noise. “Do you mind if I go relieve myself?”
She shook her head. “Might I suggest, however, that proper stealth measures are necessary in order to avoid the adversary who intends to kill you? He already knows this location, after all. Perhaps it is best that you relieve yourself at the back of the cave, and then vanish the evidence?”
Cyrus blinked. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” He cast a wary eye into the forest as he stood up. “Is he out there right now?”
She nodded. “Yes. I have yet to see a face, but I am picking up… intentions, you might say. He has reason to seek revenge. He is not doing it for amusement. That should help narrow your suspects.”
“Thanks,” Cyrus said, nodding to her. She just inclined her head and kept staring into the woods.
Walking to the back of the cave, Cyrus wondered who exactly would want to kill him. Dalesh was the first person that came to mind, but he was dead. Maybe it was a friend of the vampire? He had inadvertently caused his death, after all.
Looking forward to the end of their ‘training’ exercise, Cyrus finally relieved his bladder. He needed to learn those spells that healers used for their immovable patients. When he finally got his new suit back, he wouldn’t be able to just slip open the front to take a leak anymore. Which had been the whole point of ordering a one-piece in the first place, of course. He didn’t want anyone just ‘slipping’ their hand inside when it suited them. Once was enough.
oOo
Both Cyrus and Delanie managed to escape death on Sunday, though there was one close call with a poison in the air that had nearly been blown into their cave. Delanie, however, seeing Cyrus’s ‘death’, blew it back at their assailant with very good aim. Needless to say, the guy fucked off for the rest of the day.
As the time marking the end of their ‘training’ approached, Delanie ended up giving him her magi-com number, saying he’d call her eventually. Not one to disbelieve her abilities after seeing them in action, he accepted the number without much protest. The moment the wards were down they both disapparated back to the clearing where Welkins was waiting for them. After taking attendance, he sent them all home and went about hunting down the rest of their class. It was a pretty big forest, after all. Cyrus caught sight of Delanie going up to the man before he disapparated, probably to tell him about the poisoned water.
After Cyrus went home, he had a quick shower and collapsed into bed. He was too tired to enjoy a long one. The rest of the week was just as busy as he fought to catch up and get ahead for the next weekend. He had every intention of taking a mini vacation. A hot spring sounded like heaven after his hellish weekend.
oOo
“You have everything?” Ashawyn asked for the third time.
Cyrus rolled his eyes, beginning to feel irritated. “Yes, for the last time, I have everything, even that weird shit you told me to bring. What’s with your tea fetish?”
The fae laughed nervously. “Well, I brought some things that I know you’ll enjoy, I just wanted you to bring me something too.”
“Riiight. Are we going yet?”
Ashawyn chuckled. “So impatient. Yes, we are leaving. May I touch your arm for the apparition?”
The fae had been very considerate of his ‘touch’ problem ever since he found out about it nearly two weeks ago. When he’d caught on to Tara’s ‘mission’, as she called it, he’d happily joined in the occasional Cyrus-touching. Unlike Tara, however, he’d asked permission first, which had got him in everyone’s good books. Even Xanthir – who apparently had been told by Tara about the touch thing and was now bumping into him like an eager puppy whenever it suited him.
“Yes,” he finally said, snapping out of his thoughts. When the hand touched his arm, Cyrus felt no flash of nausea or disgust at the sensation. The past two weeks had done a lot to increase his trust of the fae. The insensitivity that had nearly had him going into a fit after their first meetings had evaporated – though that didn’t make Ashawyn any less of a pervert. He loved to tease Cyrus about how good he looked on a regular basis, and made sure Cyrus was looking when he raked his eyes appreciatively over his toning body. Because it happened nearly every day, he started to get used to it, though he was no less embarrassed by it.
He and Ashawyn were pretty much ‘dating’ at this point, although Cyrus didn’t let him go any farther than kissing. He wasn’t sure if Ashawyn had planned this weekend just as a way to get into Cyrus’s pants, and he wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not. He’d been having… well, he’d been having thoughts lately. And dreams. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to take the plunge, so to speak. ‘I’ll just have to go with the flow if it, I guess…’
The squeezing sensation of apparition pulled him out of his thoughts, and the next he knew he was standing at the bottom of a mountain. Snow still covered the ground, Cyrus was glad to see. Hiking through water-logged mud in the middle of springtime weather was not his idea of a good time.
They spent most of the day hiking, stopping often to stare at the beautiful scenery. It was a nice day; not completely cloudless, but mostly. After a bit of prompting, Ashawyn happily started talking about the myths and culture surrounding the mountain, which eventually led them to the culture of the fae in general. Cyrus, eager to learn as much as he could, kept asking questions. It wasn’t often that he could just pick the brain of someone who had lived in Other Realm their entire life. Often even Tara and Xanthir forgot that Cyrus was from Human Realm, or that he was even human at all, so sometimes he had to just keep his questions to himself or risk sounding like an idiot. With Ashawyn, though, he didn’t have to worry about sounding stupid. The fae never made him feel like he should already know something that was apparently ‘obvious’.
They didn’t reach the hot spring part of the mountain until around dinner time, so Cyrus let Ashawyn set up the magical tent that the fae had asked him to pick up while he cooked them something to eat over an open fire. He still hadn’t learned any fae dishes, but from some of the bizarre things Ashawyn had had him pick up at the market in Gemini Square, the fae was going to cook. And Cyrus, of course, wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get Ashawyn to teach him some fae dishes. He’d never liked cooking at the Dursleys’, but ever since he came to Shikaan and got to cook what he wanted, whenever he wanted, it had grown on him. He didn’t even mind that Tara and Xanthir came by complaining about the food quality at Shikaan sometimes and just wanted ‘a home-cooked meal’.
“Mmm, that smells good. What is it?”
Cyrus smiled. “Well, the steak’s for me, but the rest of it’s curry. Have you had it before?”
The fae blinked. “Curry? No, I don’t believe so. I find it interesting how our dishes vary due to the different foods available to us. For instance, we do not have what you call… rice? What we have is similar, but much more flavorful.”
Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, flipping his steak over on the grill he’d conjured. He liked them kissed by fire. “I’ve noticed that, actually. Your food has much more flavor than ours, too. Why is that?”
Ashawyn stole a piece of cooked vegetable and nibbled it. “I believe it is because Other Realm is enriched by magic. Human Realm possesses many ‘dead spots’ where there is little natural magic, but Other Realm was born from magic itself and is therefore, every part of it, enriched with magic.”
“Oh. That’s interesting. How did Other Realm come to exist, anyway?”
Ashawyn chuckled and snuck another piece of vegetable, easily avoiding Cyrus’s attempt at a hand-slap. “The details are a bit shady, actually. Some ancient groups claimed that it was their doing, but they’ve been proven false over the years as old ruins have been dug up and dated. Some think an ancient power created this world so that magical and non-magical people could live separate. Some claim that this world came first, but that has also been proven incorrect by various archeological digs. No one knows for sure what happened.”
Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, serving the food onto two plates. He made sure to serve Ashawyn first to avoid the meat contaminating the fae’s curry. Once it was finished, he let Ashawyn pull him inside the tent he’d bought. He hadn’t asked for anything spectacular when he went shopping, as he just wanted two beds, a bathroom, and enough space that they wouldn’t be tripping over one another, and it seemed that he’d gotten what he wanted. It was actually a little bit on the edge of lavish for his tastes, so he started redecorating the garish red and gold colors to greens and browns. And then Ashawyn redid the whole thing, with the color scheme, and it looked loads better.
“How’d you do that?” Cyrus asked before popping a piece of steak in his mouth.
Ashawyn put his wand away. “My sister is very… well, she’s not feminine let’s say. When I showed an interest, my mother taught me all the house spells instead. She taught me how to cook, as well. How did you learn how to cook? I’ve noticed you're quite good, for making human dishes.” He smiled, showing he hadn’t meant any real offense.
Cyrus looked down at his plate. “The people I grew up with taught me.”
“Were they relatives of yours?”
“Yes. But they weren’t really… family, if you know what I mean.” He glanced upwards and caught sight of an understanding expression on the fae’s face.
“I see. I take it they are different people than your guardian?”
“Guardians. There’s two of them. A werewolf and a vampire…”
“Oh, that’s interesting. It’s rare that those species ever get over their differences and get together. Which one was injured? You told me he was healthy again, but I never really inquired about details…”
“Remus. The werewolf. He had silver poisoning.”
Ashawyn’s eyebrows rose. “Oh my. Is there any long-term damage?” Cyrus shook his head. “Well, that must have been a relief for you. Are you close?”
The human chewed thoughtfully, hesitating. He wouldn’t exactly call them ‘close’, would he? They hadn’t actually known each other for that long. They never really did anything together. They weren’t exactly ‘typical’ guardians either, having saved him from a delusional, lunatic of an old man. “Not really, but… they’re there, you know? If I need them… And I’d jump into crazy situations to save them if I had to.” And he had.
Ashawyn smiled. “That’s sounds close enough.”
Cyrus’s lips twitched half-heartedly. “You think so?”
“Well, it seems to me that you’re not really used to getting close and personal with anyone. You kept me at arms length for a while, and even now you only tell a sliver of the story, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing; don’t get me wrong. I’m happy with whatever you want to share, I’m just saying that it doesn’t seem unusual that you’re not buddy-buddy with your guardians.” The fae shrugged.
Cyrus’s head dipped in acknowledgement. It was true, really. He wasn’t sure he knew if he was even capable of having parental figures in his life. He’d always been alone, and he was used to it. Actually, thinking of it that way, he was really glad that neither Remus nor Severus tried to jump in and start controlling his life. Sure, Severus had kept him locked in the house until he’d learned how to protect his mind, but that had been for his safety, and he’d understood why it was for his safety. There was nothing more infuriating than having an adult coddle you and keep you locked up in Grimmauld Place while shit went on outside and you wanted to help.
“You look like you’ve remembered something particularly unpleasant.”
Cyrus snapped out of his dreary thoughts to see Ashawyn watching him with concern. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just old memories.”
The fae said nothing, not prying into something Cyrus obviously didn’t want to talk about, and for that the human was grateful. Dinner conversation turned lighter again as Ashawyn shared a story about his childhood penchant of dressing up in his mother’s expensive evening gowns, and the time that he’d tripped and fallen down the stairs with it on. Cyrus could see the love in the fae’s eyes when he affectionately spoke of her ignoring the damaged dress and worrying over his injuries. It made him feel a pang in his heart to hear about something he’d never had the opportunity to experience, but he forced himself out of his dreary thoughts. Ashawyn was telling a funny story; the least Cyrus could do was laugh.
After they finished dinner, they went straight for the hot water, racing each other across the snow-covered ground in bare feet, and Cyrus accidentally shoved Ashawyn too hard and pushed him into an embankment of snow. Things quickly dissolved into snowball fight until Cyrus finally made it to the spring and jumped inside, only to let out a shriek at the abrupt temperature change. His hands and feet, previously frozen, burned unpleasantly as the rest of his body lavished in the heat. Swimming through the mist to the other side of the pool to avoid any more snowballs, he smiled at the sensation of pebbles beneath his feet. That is, until he stubbed his toe on a rock. Cussing loudly, he felt around the rock to see if he could pull it out and throw it with satisfaction. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a part of the base of the pool.
“Careful! What did you hurt?” Ashawyn asked through the mist, and Cyrus could hear him slowly ease himself into the water with quiet splashing.
“I stubbed my toe on this fucking rock!”
Ashawyn laughed, and Cyrus sulked and nursed his toe. When the fae appeared out of the mist right in front of him, he let out a yelp and backed up through the water, flailing his arms unattractively in order to stay afloat when it got deeper.
The ice fae laughed harder. “What are you, a drowning rat?” he asked in between gasps for air.
Cyrus glared. “I can’t swim, you arse!”
Quickly after that, Ashawyn had taken him around the waist and dragged him back to shallower waters. “You should have said so. That half of the pool is a lot deeper,” he said, quite serious.
Cyrus blushed. “Yeah, well… It’s embarrassing. Not knowing how to swim.”
Ashawyn shook his head. “Some things not everyone has the opportunity to learn. I could teach you, if you’d like?”
Cyrus opened his mouth to answer when he realized exactly how… ‘close’ they were. Flushing red at the feeling of Ashawyn’s body flush against his own, he gently pushed away and walked closer into the shallow end. “That’d be nice,” he said someone shakily, his lower regions already taking ‘interest’.
“A hot spring isn’t exactly ideal for learning to swim, but we could go to a lake this summer.”
“Oka- Ashawyn, what are you doing?”
The fae had come up behind him and was massaging his shoulders. “Helping you relax. Aren’t you stiff from all the work you’ve been doing lately? Neck sore from cramming over a desk? Body tired from your battle class?”
Cyrus groaned as these reminders made the pain come into the forefront of his mind again. Normally he did a good job ignoring it, but now Ashawyn had reminded him of all his physical discomforts.
“Let me make it all go away,” the fae whispered in his ear, gently leading him over to the side of the pool. He sat leaned back against a group of rocks that looked like they had been designed to be a chair of sorts, and pulled Cyrus in between his legs for easier access. When the human opened his mouth to say something, Ashawyn stopped any protests by digging his thumbs into the knots in between Cyrus’s shoulder blades, relishing in the groan it elicited. He kept the human incoherent that way, manipulating his body to release tension.
As a side effect, Cyrus found himself rather aroused, and he was sure that what he occasionally felt brushing against his backside through his swim shorts was not a log. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, though; it just felt so good. He was almost falling asleep in a pleasant haze when the massage stopped, and again he couldn’t bring himself to move. Ashawyn slipped his arms around Cyrus’s middle and gently held him in place, floating, so Cyrus relaxed and let his head fall back against the fae’s shoulder. It was so comfortable, he even chose to ignore Ashawyn’s own, obvious erection. They stayed like that for almost an hour, though Cyrus fell asleep quickly, and Ashawyn only woke him when the heat was starting to go to their heads.
Not wanting to leave the heat to walk across really cold snow to get to their tent, Cyrus just turned around, wrapped his arms around Ashawyn’s middle, and apparated them straight onto the bed in the tent. Ashawyn was tense under him, but Cyrus didn’t notice, absently casting a drying spell on both of them and conjuring a comforter to cover them and keep them in a warm cocoon. He was too lazy to try to get their actual blankets out from underneath them.
“You’re not supposed to be able to apparate into enlarged spaces, you know. Has to do with the… the dimension folding or something,” Ashawyn said after a moment of silence.
Cyrus grunted. “Well, I just did. So whatever,” he muttered, borrowing his face into the fae’s neck. He was too comfortable to move, even with the fae’s erection nudging his hip and his own asking for attention. He just wanted to sleep.
And sleep he did.
When he woke up the next, it was to Ashawyn slipping back under the covers. Not wanting to get out of the heat himself, he cast the bladder-relieving charm he’d learned after last week’s survival training escapade and burrowed back into his heat source. He was asleep again in no time.
The next time he woke, it was to the sensation of lips gently kissing his neck. Not finding it unpleasant, he pretended to still be asleep to see how far Ashawyn would go. But for almost half an hour, it didn’t go any farther than kissing, nibbling, and sucking, so Cyrus rolled over and got closer to his heat source. He was horny. On a normal morning, he’d be taking care of his morning ‘problem’ by himself in the shower. This morning, however, he had a very warm, very nice, very hot fleshy pillow.
“You hungry?” Ashawyn asked softly.
Cyrus grunted.
The fae chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. You want me to cook something while you take care of… you know?”
Cyrus was torn. Eventually, though, logic won over. “I think that… might be best.”
When Ashawyn just nodded and slipped out of the bed, Cyrus pulled the comforter over his head and flushed red. He’d wanted it. He wanted to know what another person’s hand felt like on his flesh. He’d enjoyed the massage last night so much he’d gotten a hard on, even though he’d been too tired to do anything about it at the time. Hearing Ashawyn leave the tent, he pulled the blankets down far enough so he could check that the fae had indeed left. His nose got frozen for its trouble. Why was it so bloody cold! Casting a heating charm on the whole room, he let out a sigh when his cold face began to warm up. Reaching down, he took himself in his hand and gasped at the rush of sensation that tingled his every nerve ending and curled his toes. Not sure how quickly Ashawyn would be back, he finished himself off as quickly as possible, feeling embarrassed about doing it with the fae so nearby.
When Ashawyn came back twenty minutes later, Cyrus had cleaned up the mess he’d made of the sheets and was already dressed. The fae was walking around in nothing but the shorts from the night before.
“Aren’t you cold?” Cyrus asked, confused as to why the fae wasn’t shaking like a leaf.
“Huh?” Ashawyn looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned and he laughed. “Ice fae are unaffected by the cold. It’s part of our species’ natural magic.”
“Oh.” And there was one more tidbit of information that of course he didn’t know because he wasn’t from Other Realm. At least Ashawyn ever rubbed it in his face.
“I finished breakfast. It’s on the table I transfigured. Do you mind eating outside?”
Cyrus shook his head. “With a few warming charms I’ll be fine.”
They ate breakfast in comfortable silence, just enjoying the sun that stretched across the banks of snow and lit up the small clearing. Halfway through the meal, Ashawyn nudged him in the leg and shushed him with a finger to the lips, pointing at something behind him. Frowning, Cyrus turned around, eyes widening at the sight of a hippogriff checking out their tent. Almost as if sensing their eyes on it, it turned to them with the gold eyes of a predator.
Slipping out of his seat without a thought, Cyrus bowed to the beast and hoped he wouldn’t have to kill it. He’d always had a soft spot for hippogriffs after Buckbeak. Hoping that Ashawyn had followed his example, he waited as the animal came closer, eventually getting close enough to ruffle the hairs at the back of Cyrus’s neck with its breath.
When it finally bowed in return, Cyrus let out a relieved breath and slowly straightened, making no sudden movements. Not every hippogriff liked to be touched, after all. Keeping his eyes on the sharp beak and talon, he hesitantly raised a hand to its face and petted the soft feathers there. It allowed his touch for a few moments before pulling back and walking far enough away to take off into the skies.
Grinning, Cyrus turned to see Ashawyn staring at him. “What?” he asked defensively, adrenaline still high from the close call.
The ice fae just shook his head and smiled. “You were utterly fearless. Have you been around Hippogriffs before?”
Cyrus nodded and sat back down in his seat to finish breakfast. “Yeah. I got to ride one, too. Almost as good as riding a broomstick.”
“You enjoy flying?”
Cyrus let out a small sigh. “Yes… I miss it. I haven’t had much chance to fly since I came here.” And flying through Hogwarts trying to escape Dumbledore didn’t count.
“We could fly if you want.”
Cyrus looked up from his breakfast, an inquiring look on his face.
“Do you have a broom? We could fly around the mountain if you like.”
Cyrus’s lips parted in surprise for a moment. “Uh… I don’t, actually. I didn’t see much point for having it when I can apparate, and Shikaan doesn’t have a Quidditch team.”
“But you could go buy one, right? I have a broom myself. Haven’t used it since I was quite young, but I still keep it with me just in case I need it.”
Cyrus shrugged. “I guess… yeah, I could go buy one. But I can’t really justify spending the money. I have no need for a broom.” The truth was, he wanted his old Firebolt back. The one Sirius had bought for him, and buying a new one would only remind him every single day of how Sirius was dead. And once you’d tasted the power and agility of a Firebolt, it was painful going back. So, he didn’t want to buy a new broom.
Ashawyn frowned. “I don’t really understand… you could use my broom if you want? I wouldn’t mind.”
Biting his lip, Cyrus considered. The itch to fly was battling against the depression the whole topic had brought up. Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised back to the real world by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. Blinking, Cyrus looked down at the broom that was held out to him.
“My grandfather made it. He wasn’t an internationally known broom maker, but they’re known for their durability. I’m sure it has a bit more of a kick than human brooms, too. Want to try?”
With the broom right there in front of him, it was hard to say no. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on it and gasped at the sensation of his magic and the broom syncing. He’d always felt a bit of a rush when placing his hand on a good broomstick before, but he’d never felt like this. Did it have to do with his magic sensitivity?
Throwing caution to the wind, his spirits already soaring with the need to fly, he put the broom between his legs and blasted into the skies above. A bought of laughter burst out of him before he could stop it at the sheer thrill of being in the air again. The speed of the broom between his legs was amazing. Although not quite as perfect as a Firebolt, it was close, and this was only the broom of a local maker. Grinning widely, he tested how fast he could push it by racing towards the tip of the mountain. When his face felt like it was going to be ripped off from the wind blasting into it, he threw up a full-body shield. Since the wind was moving fast enough to be perceived as a solid object by the shield, he cut through the air like butter and moved even faster than before. Laughing, he turned the broom around, careful of the G-forces. If you changed directions and speed too fast, after all, your internal organs could end up smashed against your rib cage and tear.
Whooping with joy, he turned the nose downward to pull of a Wronski Feint. Careful not to push the broom faster than he was used to on a Firebolt, he grinned as he pulled closer to the rocks below. Pulling up at the last second, he pulled to the side in a barrel roll to avoid invisible enemies. Damn, but he missed flying.
When he finally came out of the air a half hour later, Ashawyn was staring at him like he was crazy. Still high from the adrenaline, he dropped his full-body shield and handed over the broom, just barely resisting the urge to cast the most powerful spell he knew, consequences be damned. At that moment he could have happily blown up a good chunk of the mountain, but he restrained himself and tried to find another way to spend the energy.
“Wanna duel?” Cyrus asked, picking the first solution that came to mind.
Ashawyn stared. “Beg your pardon? Duel? What for?”
Cyrus grinned, bouncing on his toes. “Well, I’ve got a lot of energy. Gotta burn it off somehow!”
Ashawyn shook his head. “I’m not exactly the dueling type. Another reason I didn’t go to Shikaan.”
Cyrus sulked. Xanthir or Tara would have dueled him, no questions asked, and he’d probably get his ass handed to him in half an hour. Waving his hand, he disintegrated the snow on a section of ground and conjured a mat to go on top of it. Taking off his boots, he hopped on the rather large mat and started going through his almost-daily training. Normally he took the weekends off so his body could rest and heal muscle damage, but he couldn’t think of another reasonable way to take the edge off. His magic was roaring at his finger tips, and his physical body felt… hot.
Ignoring Ashawyn’s watchful eyes, he let himself sink into a meditative trance as he stretched. After fifteen minutes making sure everything was working right, he started going through his katas – slowly at first, making sure he had all the forms right before he sped up his movements. When he’d finished those, he started doing his strength training with conjured weights. After that, he cooled down with Ouragan’s version of yoga, which they had to do after every work out to both cool down and stretch their muscles so they didn’t cramp as badly later. It also made them more flexible and agile, which was very helpful for a human who didn’t have the same kind of fine muscle control that non-humans did.
At the end of it he felt a little better, but he was still hot, so he removed the warming charm he’d cast on himself earlier that day. Taking a glance around, he saw Ashawyn watching him from where he’d sat at the table.
“You feel any better now?” the fae asked casually, eyes running over Cyrus’s sweaty form.
The human shrugged, scratching an itch on his back. “A little.” Slipping into his boots, he vanished the matt. “Want to go for a hike?”
Ashawyn’s eyebrows rose. “I suppose we could… but we’d have to take down the tent so no animals come and destroy it.”
Cyrus weighed the pros and cons of taking the tent down. If only he were taking Warding this year instead of next.
“There are other activities we could do that burn energy,” Ashawyn suggested.
Cyrus blinked. “Like what?” he asked. When the fae gave him a look, his brain clicked in the right direction and he blushed. “Uh, I think I’m going to go pop into the hot spring.” Before Ashawyn could say a word, he’d disappeared into tent to get changed. It was the first thing that came to mind, really. He wasn’t sure getting into a hot spring when he was already hot was a good idea, but whatever helped him avoid that subject. Grimacing down at the only part of him that was quite eager to consider doing the dirty with Ashawyn, he pulled his shorts up and apparated straight to the side of the hot spring. He didn’t want the fae to see the hard-on in his shorts and his blushing face. It would totally defeat the purpose of him avoiding Ashawyn in the first place.
Slipping into the hot spring, he tried to find the chair-like outcropping of rocks in order to relax. After a few moments of reacquainting himself with the hot spring in the daytime instead of nighttime, he found it and settled into the nook. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath and let his body relax in the warmth of the water. His head was already a little fuzzy, but he ignored it in favor of the comforting heat.
A gently nudging hand woke him from his haze a while later, and he peaked an eye open to see Ashawyn not far from him. His wilted erection sprung to attention at the sight and smell of the fae so close to him, eliciting a small groan from the human. Hadn’t he tried to avoid this? But Ashawyn was really hot, and smelled good, and he was cool. Cyrus wanted to cool down.
“You look really hot,” Ashawyn said with an amused smile. “You sure it’s a good idea to be in the hot spring?”
Cyrus huffed. “Probably not. I’m really hot, but I don’t want to be sore later either.”
“I could help with that.”
Cyrus blinked hazily. “Really?”
“I’m an ice fae. Cooling your core temperature a bit so you can enjoy a good soak isn’t a problem.”
“Oh. Fae magic. Go ahead.”
Ashawyn placed his hand on Cyrus’s shoulder and the human jumped as the cool magic sank under his skin. The bubbling energy that had been calming with his stay in the hot spring suddenly came back to life under his skin, and Cyrus felt something change as Ashawyn’s magic mingled inside him, cool. It was so hot, but the magic was cool. He wanted it. He needed more of that coolness.
Without realizing what he was doing, he pulled Ashawyn into a hot kiss. Frost burst into his mouth when the fae gasped, and he licked those cool lips, moaning when Ashawyn took control of the kiss and pushed him against the rock, straddling him. As the fae plundered his mouth, he slipped his hands down to the hips floating in the water above him and pulled them flush against each other. Cyrus gasped at the sensation, while Ashawyn just grinded down onto him and deepened the kiss even more, sucking Cyrus’s tongue into his mouth and blowing frost into his lungs. Cyrus returned it in kind, blowing the heat into Ashawyn’s own body and making the fae gasp and moan on top of him so he could pull more of the coolness inside. He needed more.
Reaching into the fae’s shorts, he grasped the hard erection there and started pumping up and down, pulling in the cool and leaving behind heat. Absently, he noticed Ashawyn staring into his eyes with his lips parted in surprise, but his awareness faded back to the heat and pleasure of it as he milked Ashawyn’s body for release. He wanted the fae to come, wanted that burst of frost. Grabbing the back of Ashawyn’s neck, he pulled him down for another dizzying kiss and he brought the fae closer and closer to release. As he felt that climax approach, he sucked frost into his lungs and watched those ice blue eyes lose focus in ecstasy as he came, shuddering, on top of Cyrus.
“Whoa,” the fae panted into his ear. “I didn’t take you for a top.”
Cyrus, who wasn’t really in the state of mind to understand what a top was, started kissing Ashawyn again to get him to stop talking. He whined when Ashawyn pulled away from him, concern flashing from eyes set in a face slack with orgasm.
“Hey, slow down. Are you okay? Normally you’re not this… eager.”
Cyrus stared at him, his brain trudging through a film of heat to try to understand. “Wha?”
Ashawyn frowned. “Maybe we should get you out of the water. The heat’s obviously going to your head. Come on,” he said, starting to pull away. He didn’t account for Cyrus knocking his legs out from underneath him though, and he came back down and landed chest to chest with a splash. The frown on his face deepened as he stared into Cyrus’s eyes. “O-kay… are you in any state of mind to do apparate us into the tent?” Cyrus tried to kiss him again, but Ashawyn gently pushed him away. “Cyrus? Tent.”
Making an impatient noise, Cyrus landed them, soaking, on the bed with a twitch of magic, though this time he was straddling Ashawyn instead of the other way around. Vanishing the annoying water and expelling some of his heat into the room, he started kissing Ashawyn again, trying to get some more of that frost.
“Cyrus? Cyrus! Sto- stop, just talk to me a second will y-“ Cyrus shut him up with another kiss, and managed to snatch a bit more of that frost before Ashawyn pushed him away again. A hand held his forehead, holding him away from his goal. “Nalle henwathe, Cyrus. You’re burning up! Are you feeling alright?”
Cyrus stared at him, not understanding. He just wanted that frost, why was the fae holding him back? Getting annoyed, he knocked the hand aside and kissed Ashawyn again, pushing the heat into him until the fae came alive under his touch, moaning. He kept pushing it inside until Ashawyn flipped them over and started kissing and sucking at his neck. Letting out a pleased moan, Cyrus ran his hands up and down the fae’s back and started drawing that frost to him again. When a cool mouth slipped around his burning length, he moaned in satisfaction and bucked upwards into the sensation. When strong hands held him down, he whimpered, but soon one of them was gently rolling his balls and he didn’t care anymore. Sighing happily, he stretched his limbs and enjoyed the pleasure racing through ever nerve in his body as a tongue teased his head until he was taken back into that cool cavern. He rode the wave of pleasure to the bursting point and then fell over the cliff of pleasure in orgasm.
He lay content on the bed, his body still hot, pleasant tingles racing up each nerve ending to explode like fireworks in his brain. He let out a happy sigh.
“Cyrus?”
He peaked open an eye, unaware that his irises were glowing Avada Kedavra green with power and pleasure.
“What was that?”
The human pulled Ashawyn flush against him, burrowing into that cool flesh. He was still so hot. He wanted… he wanted that frost inside him. Needed it. Nibbling at the cool flesh of the fae’s neck, he flipped them over until he was on top, aiming to put the frost inside him.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. You want… you want to go the whole way?” Ashawyn asked, ice blue eyes wide and shoulder-length, wavy hair splayed across the pillow sensually. His pupils were dilated with desire.
Cyrus leaned closer and put his mouth right next to Ashawyn’s ear. “I need you inside me,” he rasped, licking the fae’s neck. He needed that frost inside him. The flesh in his hand twitched.
“A-alright. I can do that. But let me prepare you first so we don’t hurt anything,” the fae said hazily. Cyrus nodded, but he wasn’t happy when Ashawyn left him for a moment to retrieve something from his bags. Seeing his quizzical look, the fae smiled. “It’s lubrication. To make things easier.” When he slipped on top of Cyrus, calm and assured, the human relaxed against the pillow and watched as Ashawyn put the lube aside with a mischievous expression. “Have you ever been rimmed before?” Seeing Cyrus shake his head, Ashawyn grinned. “Well, I think you’re going to like this. Flip over.”
Obeying without a word, Cyrus let himself be manhandled until a small pile of pillows were under his hips and his face was buried in his arms. Curious, he stayed still as two hands cupped his but cheeks and pulled them apart. When a cool tongue swiped a stripe up his ass, he gasped and twitched on the pillows as a bit of frost leapt inside him at the contact. A loud moan was wrenched from his lips at the sensation of his hole being circled and then teasingly penetrated before it was removed again. He felt something cold touch his entrance for a moment, and a whispered spell that felt odd, but not uncomfortable, then that tongue returned in force and started nibbling and worshiping his tight ring of muscle. He was hard again real fast, but Ashawyn didn’t touch it, instead torturing him as he loosened that tight ring of muscle with his tongue.
The small bits of frost that he managed to pull inside weren’t enough, and just as he was about to explode with need or come right then and there, the fae pulled back. Moaning at the loss of coolness, he was soon gasping at the sensation of a finger penetrating. A burning sensation crept through the muscles in his ass, soothed by a small flash of frost, and he whimpered at the pain of it stretching him.
“Relax,” Ashawyn gently coaxed into his ear. “It won’t hurt if you just relax. Trust me.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax as the burn went up his spine and turned into a dull throb that was soothed by a bit of frost. Breathing carefully, he focused on staying limp as a noodle as the finger was pulled out and covered with more cool lube. When it returned, it went deeper, until it hit something inside that sent white across his vision, the pleasure ripping a low moan from him as his breath quickened and his vision blurred with ecstasy. His ass clenched at the surprise of it, which sent another burning pulse up his spine, and he whimpered at the mixture of pain and pleasure. Gasping for breath, he tried to relax just as Ashawyn was telling him, but it was hard. He needed more of the frost.
When the finger curled again and hit that spot inside him once more, sending another flash of cool through his body, he let out another ragged moan and collapsed forward, all his bones going lax with pleasure. Thankfully, Ashawyn kept him in place as he started moving that finger in and out of him, occasionally adding more lube and pushing deeper. After he got used to the stretch and it didn’t hurt as much, Ashawyn added another finger. There was pain at first, but after remembering to relax it burn faded to a dull throb with each shock of pleasure his prostate sent up his spine. When a third finger was added, he gasped at the pain of it, but Ashawyn gently pet his lower back and told him to stay relaxed. It was painful and uncomfortable, but then a hand wrapped around his shaft and he forgot the pain just enough as he pulled the frost into him from two points. Moaning into his folded arms, he almost came when his prostate was hit again.
Before he realized what the removal of the fingers meant, a cool length of muscle had pushed past his sphincter. Gasping in surprise, his fingers clenched the covers and his mouth fell lax. Ashawyn slowly pushed all the way in and paused to give Cyrus a moment to adjust. Instead of the teasing trickles of frost from earlier, he was getting a constant flow now, and it pulled a relieved moan from his feverish lips. He could feel the pleasure build inside him, but it was too soon, too soon-
“A-ash… I’m g-going to…”
Ashawyn murmured a few words under his breath, and Cyrus gasped when he felt something tighten around the base of his shaft.
“Wha-?” His question was turned into a loud moan when Ashawyn pulled out and then nailed his prostate. A wave of frost cooled the churning pools of magma inside him, and Cyrus cried out at the pleasure of it, writhing in ecstasy. Without his permission, his magic began to respond and escape from his physical body and into the air around them. Unable to stop it from doing whatever it was doing, and completely focused on the pleasure sending shockwaves up his spine, he didn’t notice as the green power flowed over Ashawyn.
A slew of foreign words spilled out of Ashawyn’s mouth before exclaimed in English, “Cyrus… so much… so much magic… you have…” His words were cut off with a groan as Cyrus pushed back, impaling himself on that piston of cool flesh again. He could feel it again, that frost. There was a whole lake of it, and he wanted it. He needed it all. His body began to heat again, drawing the frost inside with each attack on his prostate and through the magic in the air around them, and the pleasure of it had Cyrus moaning continuously from the sheer ecstasy of it as Ashawyn held his hips in place and pounded into him. All Cyrus could do was lay there, the pleasure short-circuiting his brain, and all he could see was the blue and green light until he knew only pleasure and the sweet coolness of frost and it all exploded inside of him, destroying the spell holding him back from release, and bringing Ashawyn over the brink and into him, consuming the wonderful, cool frost until everything fell, and there was darkness…
oOo
“-rus? Cyrus? Hey, come on, wake up!”
Cyrus groaned and rolled over, feeling like shit. Eugh. Did this always happen after… after… His eyes shot wide open and he sat up in surprise, his head swimming with the movement. Groaning, he let himself be pushed back down onto the bed. He’d… he’d… he could feel his cheeks super-heating. He and Ashawyn had had sex. Sex. Oh Merlin… What had he been thinking? What the hell had happened?
“Cyrus? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to wake you for hours. You’ve been sick, puking and shaking and going into seizures almost all night!”
Cyrus blinked slowly, eyes having trouble focusing on Ashawyn’s face in the dim light. “Huh? Sick?”
The fae nodded. “You’ve been puking and feverish for hours. I tried to take us back to Shikaan to get you medical help, but every time I touched you your body kept draining my magic back to empty.”
The human frowned. “Wha? Drain? Why do I feel like…” His eyes widened in epiphany and he groaned, rubbing his face. “Fuck. That. I forgot about that. I’d hoped it went away.”
“What? You hoped what went away.”
Cyrus felt his forehead, which was still hot but not burning. “I’m sick. Svea doesn’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Ashawyn frowned. “How did you get sick?”
Cyrus sighed. Tell the fae, don’t tell the fae… Well, it appeared as though he’d sucked all the magic out of the guy, and had sex with him, so he might as well. “I got bitten by a vampire a while back. You know when I was sick before? That was just the recovery stage. My body had a very strange reaction to the virus. It fought vampirism off, but afterwards I just kept getting worse. My body was eating my magic for something, we still don’t know what. They tried giving me a transfusion of magic, but it didn’t help. When it seemed like I was going to run out of magic, there wasn’t anything they could do, but before the magic exhaustion could kill me, it stopped. It took my body and magic about a week to recover after that.”
Ashawyn’s eyesbrows rose. “You… you eat magic?”
Cyrus flushed. “My body does. I don’t consciously say ‘hey, you taste delicious’ and just eat you.”
The fae chuckled. “That can have so many meanings.” When Cyrus got the joke, he turned crimson, and Ashawyn just laughed. “So, you ate my magic because you’re sick. I have to say that it doesn’t appear as though magic-eating is your only symptom. You became very… aroused, and your body temperature rose beyond that of a normal human.”
Cyrus coughed and looked away, still a little embarrassed about everything.
“Do you regret it?” Ashawyn asked after a moment of silence.
Cyrus’s eyes snapped back to shadowed blue. He nervously bit his lip. “I don’t… regret it, I just… wish it hadn’t happened because my body’s fucked up.” He looked away again, ashamed. He could remember all of it clearly. He’d been like a sex-crazed fiend and he’s just attacked Ashawyn and… he’d used whatever it was, the heat or something, that was driving him crazy, he’d used it on Ashawyn and-
A cool set of lips met his own, snapping him out of his self-destructive thoughts. “Don’t worry about that part, Cyrus. I know it’s not your fault,” he said softly, and then a perverted grin spread across his face. “And the sex was great. What was that magic thing you did? I swear my brain nearly exploded after that.”
Cyrus blushed and chuckled half-heartedly. “I dunno. I’ve seen Rivehn and Yankovich do it before.” And then his eyes widened in horror at what he’d just admitted.
Ashawyn started laughing his ass off, and Cyrus punched him moodily in the arm. “You have to admit, that image is terribly funny.”
The human grumbled. “Yeah. Right. Funny.”
Ashawyn grinned and leaned closer to whisper, “It was hot. Admit it. You were hot.”
Cyrus looked away, but the blush on his face was obvious. “Jerk.”
Ashawyn just laughed. “Right. So, how are we going to get back to Shikaan? I’m tapped out, and I’m pretty sure you are too.”
The human grimaced. “Shit. I can’t cast magic reliably for a few days at least. We’re going to have to wait until you can take us.”
The fae sighed and slipped under the covers, surprising the hell out of Cyrus. “Oh, stop complaining. We just had sex, and you slept with me that first night. It’s nearly two in the morning. I’m going to need a little sleep to get us back to Shikaan. Budge over.”
Moving reluctantly, Cyrus let Ashawyn invade his personal space and tried not to be bothered by it. It wasn’t hard, actually. Once he’d felt the heat of fae’s body, he curled up next to him and used him for a fleshy pillow. Ashawyn didn’t complain and just put an arm around his shoulders.
Nice and toasty, Cyrus fell asleep trying not to think about how busy he was going to be when he woke up in the morning. And the person who was trying to kill him.
-Toki Mirage-
:D For those of you who went to aff or lj to see the mature material, I hope you liked it! It’s exam week for me, now. Got a test tomorrow I’m going to go study for now… I’m hoping to update this story at least once more before January, but I make no promises.
Thanks for reading!
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Bloody Skies