ONE BLACK FEATHER

Chapter 7: Paths Walked by Mortals

Magnus was profoundly sick. He wandered to the fields outside of That First Town and into the waving dry-hay of an untended field.

"Beef garbage" he grumbled, lamenting the meal he'd had at one of the taverns where he'd risked the menu. Obviously, the most recent butcher's carcass they had hung in the back was starting to turn. He should have known it when he'd gotten a plate of meat that was green at the edges. They'd tried to cover it up with gravy, too…

Once he got a safe distance into the field and assessed that there was no one around to see a strong, badass mercenary lose his lunch and whine with stomach pain like a little child, he unloaded his cargo. What Magnus was really ashamed of was that this suffering wasn't earned in the usual way: A good night of hard drinking. After his pathetic wretching, he noticed a soft, yet sharp sound.

"Cryin'?" he asked himself as he followed the sounds, hoping that whoever else was out here hadn't just seen what he was doing. He came upon the source of the gentle disturbance.

"Hey, are you that angel? What are you doin' out here?"

Pit was curled up, knees to chest, hugging himself, his wings pressed flat against his back. He sniffled and turned his face to look up at the person whose voice he recognized.

"Whoa! What happened to your eye, kid?" Magnus asked, seeing the red iris of Pit's right eye.

"It's not mine," Pit said, drying his face ineffectually with his arm and standing up. He grabbed his scarf and dabbed it.

Magnus frantically looked around for a moment, looking at the sky, out across the land and over the city. "You aren't here to fight, are you?" the big man asked, "It's been mighty peaceful around here… the last thing this town needs is another invasion by Underworld flunkies. In fact, I was hoping to get movin' on."

"I'm not here for work," Pit said. "In fact I… I… I… I left her! I'm not working for Palutena anymore!"

"Whoa, kid! Hey! Calm down! Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"It's a long story," Pit began. "But, there shouldn't be any danger. I came here because it looked peaceful. I needed… some time to myself."

Magnus had rented an inn room. He didn't have many things to move, but he sighed. Everything that was his was going to have to stay here for a little bit longer and he was running out of the money he'd gotten from his last job. There was a bed and a couch. He insisted that Pit take the bed. He was, as Pit called him "rough around the edges, but a really nice guy at heart."

Fortunately, for Pit, he did not have to explain who Dark Pit was. Magnus had met him some time after The Great Underworld War – or so it was being called. It was known by the humans of Angel Land by that name and "That time Hades went off his rocker and wanted to kill us all." Pit had introduced him to Magnus and Magnus had tried to recruit him into the mercenary band he was leading at the time. Dark Pit refused, making a choice to work for Viridi instead. As a mere mortal man, and an almost perpetually-broke one at that, Magnus couldn't offer the black-winged angel a dental plan or the Power of Flight.

"So she cut him up? Oh, that's rough," Magnus said as Pit sat on the side of the bed, slightly swinging his dangling legs. "I don't blame you for leavin' her, then."

"She did it to save me," Pit said under his breath. "I didn't want this."

"Eh," Magnus grunted. "Now you know why most of us don't trust the gods anymore. Some do, but the sacrifices they demand to just not mess with us… and they'll always do what's most useful to them, in the end. I see it all the time with power. The strong will always kick the butts of those weaker."

"Do you kick the weak around, Magnus?" Pit asked; eyes wide.

"Nah. Not with people. I prefer kicking around the strong. It's more of a challenge, more fun. And monsters. I don't mind punting them around if they're weaklings, because they're monsters. Not everyone likes a challenge like I do, though."

"Well," Pit said sadly, "Palutena was like that. Strong, I mean, and strong in the way that she liked protecting weaker beings. Then… Pittoo…"

"Sounds to me like she was just desperate. Isn't she like, your mom or something?"

"Well… It was always more complicated than that."

Magnus looked up and at the wall, his eyes suddenly distant. "I'd do anything to get my kid back, Pit. Anything. If I could relive the past, I'd probably sacrifice something I thought of as a shadow or only a part to a whole to bring him back to my arms. I'll never hear his voice call me 'Daddy' again."

"I'm sorry, Magnus."

"Don't be sorry. You had nothin' to do with it. In fact, you helped me fight off those responsible. I thank you for that. Just don't ever borrow my body again. That was weird."

"I won't."

"You do and you'll have to deal with the mental scars. I'm pretty sure I do things with my body that you're way too innocent for."

"Shut up, Pittoo! We aren't doing that!" Pit yelped to himself.

"Huh? You losin' your mind already Angel Face?"

"No," Pit tried to explain. "Dark Pit… he's kind of become a presence in my mind ever since… you know. He's very stubborn. Even when dead he refuses to die."

"I think I understand," Magnus replied. "I kept hearing my little boy for weeks after he was taken from me. I'd turn around, expecting to see him run up behind me. Then I'd remember I watched him die. Grief is awful like that."

"No, not like that," Pit insisted. "I mean, I actually hear his voice inside my head… kind of like I did with Palutena when I had my laurels, but it's a bit more 'me.' It's hard to explain. I think it's because he was created from me – my soul – that his soul is back with mine… but he's still himself. We're like, two souls sharing a body."

"So you're a schizophrenic."

"Is that even the right definition? No… He's there. That's all I know. I would give anything to have him flesh and blood again, though. He's my little brother, my twin…"

"Your clone…"

"My brother," Pit growled. "He was and is my brother. I think I'd do what you'd do for your child to bring him back. What the goddess did for me… well, it'd be like killing your brother, or best friend… or your child… to save your life."

"I'd give my life for my boy… never would want it the other way around, left hurtin' as I am."

"Exactly." Pit's wings drooped. "Pittoo is kind of still with me, but… I don't know whether he's real or not, you know? – Telling me you're real doesn't do anything, Pittoo! You're still all in my head!"

"You sound like one confused angel," Magnus said, gently putting a hand on Pit's shoulder. "This is the path we mortals walk. As a born and bred human, I know some ways to deal with it."

"Like what?"

"Well, do you want to come drinkin'? That always cheers me up for a while… blacks out some bad memories most of the time, too."

"I don't know…"

"I can vouch for ya. I don't know anyone in this town that does age-limits anyway. We'll drink good and hard! You'll be lucky to wake up in the same bed you're sittin' on!"

"Eeep!"

"Aw, come on. They say that wine brings truth. If you wanna hang out on the surface with us, you may as well learn to be a man!"

Pit found the tavern that Magnus took him to noisy and full of smoke. At least the smoke seemed to cover up some of the other smells there. He wore a cloak to conceal his wings. It wouldn't do for anyone besides Magnus to know there as an angel in their midst – they'd probably panic or try to strip him of his feathers to sell or something.

"Try some of this," Magnus said, pouring him a cloudy glass of a clear, rich brown liquid. "Heh, heh, heh."

Pit picked up the glass and scrutinized it. "I've had wine before," he said, "but that was godly-wine, special stuff that's for healing."

"Trust me," Magnus said with a smile, "once you down this, you'll be feelin' no pain!"

Come on, Pit! Pittoo said inside his mind, I died too young! I never got the chance to get drunk! I want to know what it's like!

Pit downed the small drink. He immediately snorted and coughed. "It burns! What is this? Torch-fuel? This stuff could run the Great Sacred Treasure!"

Magnus slapped his knee and laughed heartily. He poured him another, but said to wait just a few minutes before taking another shot.

"I don't know how it is with your folk," Magnus said, "but you should be feelin' it."

"I'm feelin' it!" Pit exclaimed. Several men in the bar looked his way. Pit leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up. He would have fallen to the floor if Magnus hadn't gotten up and steadied him.

"Kinda fun, eh?"

"Yeah!"

Pit felt his head swimming and like he didn't exactly have to worry about his inhibitions anymore. As such, Dark Pit found a window to slip his own will in. His essence oozed over Pit's brain like syrup.

"Ah, so this is how it feels," the angel that was outwardly Pit said. "Pretty nice. I think I'd like to get a little drunker, though!"

And with that, another shot went down. "More!"

"Easy, kid," Magnus said. "You ain't used to this. Like I said, I don't know what yer body is like, but I wouldn't wanna kill ya."

"Too late for that!" Pittoo slurred.

"Hey, why did your voice change?" Magnus asked.

"Hah!" the inner-twin said, pointing Pit's finger at him. "You're that merc!"

"Of course I am, Pit. Geeze… get an angel drunk…"

"I'm not Pit!" the Dark Pit inside the light-casing asserted, "I'm…. Pittoo! Urk! No! I'm… I'm Dart…Dark Pit!"

"Well, you do sound like Dark Angel Face," Magnus replied. "Guess you really are messin' with Angel Face's noggin. Didn't know a little booze would bring ya out."

"Forget that!" Pittoo said, eyeing a few of the women at the bar. "I never knew mortal women could look so good…"

"Hoo, boy," Magnus sighed. "You've got the booze-googles on, don't ya? Okay, so the one on the left… yeah… she's about my type, nice and…big... Urgh! I don't think you've got a chance, though."

He grabbed the neck of Pit's cloak and yanked him back. "No you don't, hot pants. Nothin' good comes from humans and angels doin' that kinda thing."

"How do you know?" Dark Pit groused. "I lived too short a life to get drunk, now that I've done that, I just realized I died a virgin!"

Pit's wings shuddered.

"No!" the Dark Pit voice protested to what was apparently the inner Pit voice. "You do not get a say in this! You had your chance and you still have a chance! Now that I have to use your body, I've realized I have a few regrets!"

"Okay," Magnus said, shrugging, "You're welcome to try, but I don't think you're gonna get anywhere, kid."

Perhaps predictably, or just because any Pit is still a Pit, he went up to the very busty lady in a red dress at the end of the bar and asked her if she fell from Heaven. He earned a roll of her eyes and a "Get lost, kid!"

When he persisted and tried to grab her rear end, he earned himself a swift, brutal smack.

"Ow...that stings!" Pittoo complained. "What did I do wrong?"

"Yer a baby-face, Angel Face," Magnus explained to him. "You ain't ever gonna get a mature woman lookin' like that."

"Can you get her for me?"

Magnus laughed, "Oh, I don't think I could afford that one. Come on, kid. You're drunk, time to go home."

With that, Magnus downed that last of his own liquor and shepherded a laughing and stumbling angel back to their inn room. He did not know how much longer he could take the arguing between the two voices before Pit finally fell asleep. Things that happened the next morning were things he would later never want to talk about, nor would the staff ever be able to fully clean out of the wooden floor. The conflicting voices continued to squabble over "Never getting drunk again" and "No way, that was fun!" until Pit's native voice became dominant again.

When he calmed down and had some much needed coffee, Pit looked up at Magnus. "I don't know where we go from here," he said. "I don't really have anywhere to go."

"Well," Magnus replied, "You still can fight, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I brought my primary weapon with me, but I won't have access to everything I used to have anymore, not as long as I'm avoiding…her."

"But I've seen you scrap. How'd you like to be a traveling mercenary, kid?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"It's not a bad life most of the time. It's hard, but you earn a little scratch and get to be a hero – even if it's a hero for hire. I'm pretty selective in the jobs I take, so we won't be working for any dark lords or anything like that. You'd be pretty much doin' what you've always been doin' – killin' monsters and stuff, but you'd be workin' for yourself rather than some high n' mighty goddess."

"You really think I have what it takes?"

"I know you do, kid. We've watched each other's backs before. You've got nowhere to go, and, as of right now, I had a falling out with my old crew – greedy bastards, so I could stand to start a new one."

Pit smiled; his eyes bright. "Hey, Pittoo says he wants to be a merc! Let's try it."

"Alright, then. We'll get you a good hangover cure and we'll head out and scout for jobs."

So, Pit began to take paths walked by mortals.

To Be Continued…