Connection

The sensation of warm weight around Moren's body had him slowly opening his eyes. Blinking, he scanned his perimeter. Stray snowflakes were melting in the orb of heat they'd made with their shared contact, but it was definitely colder. Had Lucio not been wrapped so thoroughly around him, he would have woke up shivering.

For a short moment, Moren simply enjoyed the comfort of being held. At some point, Lucio had laid his forehead against the magician's dark curls. One arm draped tightly over his chest, fingers secure on Moren's shoulder. Lucio's armored hand had woven fingers between his.

The metal possessed a steely chill that the magician had long since familiarized with Lucio's presence. The sharp tips of the gauntlet made Moren feel safe, like Lucio would shred through any threat that may befall them.

And that was all it took for Moren to completely wake up. They weren't cuddled up in some snowy alcove during a rough Vesuvian winter. No, they were in the magical realms, and anything could be around them right now.

Reaching upwards, he worked to rub sleep out of his eyes, but Lucio caught him first. Warm lips landed on Moren's cheek. Bewildered, the man looked towards the Count.

Lucio wasn't remorseful at all. With a soft smile that made Moren's toes curl, he mentioned, "I couldn't help it. You looked so cute while you slept."

"Cute?" Moren was sure he looked like a mess. Hair that had been molded into loose waves with heat and product long before he'd gone hunting for the goast in Lucio's wing had grown curlier by the minute. Surely, it was poofing out in all kinds of angles.

"Yeah, you were all peaceful and still. No frowning, no worrying about what we'll do next." He looked away, embarrassment diverting his gaze. "And, I don't know… It was nice seeing you like that."

After a reassuring squeeze, Lucio slipped off to give the other man some room. The moment they lost contact with each other, the spell that had warmed them broke. The cold air of the labyrinth struck them. Luckily, it didn't seem to be as powerful this time. Moren could deal with it, skimpy attire aside.

To the Count, he asked, "How long was I asleep?"

Lucio shrugged. "No damn clue. I haven't seen the sun at all. I have no idea how long we've been here."

"Did you get any rest?"

Lucio paused, considering the question like one might a strange tasting red wine. "I didn't sleep, but I don't feel tired either. I felt like I slept, even though I didn't." He blew out hot air from his lips. "Psht. Magic places. So bizarre. Don't worry about me. I'm still all warm and fuzzy from your spell."

After stretching like a lazy cat, he offered two hands to the sitting magician. Moren gladly took them and hopped into place in front of him. The Count encouraged, "Come on, Moren. Let's take another crack at this weird magic maze."

"The only way we have left is forward, eh?"

Shaking snow out of his hair, Moren stood up to take in their surroundings. Graveyard to the left. Graveyard to the right. The labyrinth could go on for days, and they would still enter the exact same areas. This realm didn't play by the rules of reality. It played with your regrets, desires, and fears.

Yet, Moren didn't say a word. Instead, he walked side by side with Lucio through the minutes. Soon, those minutes felt as if they turned to hours. The hours turned to days.

No passing of starlight or sunshine marked each change in time. All that Moren knew was that their feet were being carried onwards and onwards. By the time they approached the graveyard for a third time, the apprentice wasn't even surprised.

The Count was a different tale. He bared his teeth at the decaying foliage and moist dirt. Snarling, he spoke, "No! I can't believe this! There has to be some way out of here that isn't a creepy graveyard!"

Moren gave Lucio a curious look. Head cocked to the side and one brow raised, he asked, "Does there?"

"W-what is that supposed to mean, exactly?"

The apprentice threw his fingers out to the graveyard. His sharp nails glinted against stray shafts of light that came from no place in particular. "We're still in the magical realms. The labyrinth doesn't have to follow normal rules."

Fingers ran grooves through Lucio's silky hair. His boots crunched branches in his pacing. "I know. I know. I just… don't like graveyards."

"Why?"

Lucio curled his upper lip at Moren. "Pretty obvious, isn't it? Graveyards are all dark and gloomy, full of people rotting in the earth… I mean, who wouldn't find them creepy?"

Perhaps, Moren was morbid, but he didn't. For some reason, he felt drawn to places where the dead rested. Too often, he could be found wandering the streets of Vesuvia, strolling aimlessly until he came upon one of the many gravesites dedicated to those people who had died of the Red Plague.

There was a peacefulness in those areas. There was also a wickedness. On some days, the graves were a gentle bedding of bodies once entwined by a slow death. On other days, the souls wailed. They sought revenge against deaths that had come too soon.

Under that way of thinking, Moren observed Count Lucio. His facade had come back into place. The fissures the apprentice had been putting within the Count's false face looked to be re-mortared by swagger.

But not all the cracks were sealed. Lucio's milk white skin was even paler. His voice was tremulous with hints of fear.

"Lucio," Moren sighed.

Lips parting to speak, Moren's words disappeared before being fully formed. He could hear something in the distance. The harsh chill of the realm seemed lighter. Only one of those two situations had ever brought good tidings to them.

A bark pulled itself through the graveyard. Immediately, Lucio's head jerked upwards. He asked, "Was that a dog?" A second bark answered his question.

Like a hound on a trail, Lucio swung his head from one side to the other. He honed in on the sound with a hunter's precision. Mouth breaking into a grin, he laughed, "I have never been so happy to hear a dog! What if it's Mercedes and Melchior?"

On that note, he darted off. Cursing his impulsiveness, Moren slid against slick leaves and took off right behind the Count. Luckily for the magician, Lucio wasn't hard to find. His loud voice was calling out for his dogs. His feet trampled the earth like a rambunctious foal.

When Moren caught up to see Lucio's black cape flowing in the wind, the Count wasn't far away. He hastily pointed towards a fluffy tail just as it moved out of view. "Over there!" he cried.

Tearing out after him, they wove around more turns than Moren wanted to count. Stone walls passed the apprentice in a blurs of cracks, dimples, and multi-colored striations. When the turns ended, they stood on one end of a long corridor.

At the far end… was one of the oddest creatures Moren had ever seen. With a furry muzzle not unlike that of a schnauzer, a white humanoid hound peered their way. Its eyes were as white as the snow that gathered in the grooves between the labyrinth walls and floor.

Lucio held no fear in the creature's presence. He immediately started cooing at them. "There you are! Come here, doggy. Come to Lucio."

Huffing as if insulted, the dog took a left turn. The shifting of its heavy coat and fabrics was the only reminder that they had stood there at all. Wasting no time, Lucio pulled Moren along by the hand. They made it all the way to the end of the corridor, but the creature was long gone.

A single set of pawprints was the final reminder of their presence. Studying them, Lucio commented, "That dog's the first thing in this whole labyrinth that didn't try to kill us. Let's follow the pawprints. Maybe, they'll even lead us out?"

With a nod, Moren took up a position behind Lucio. After a few moments, the walls began to part. The apprentice's jaw loosened at the sight of lush grasses, a valley.

Stars danced in the sky, ebbing and flowing above them in pulsations of light. The valley was overflowing with stalks of golden wheat. They swayed gently up ahead.

Looking triumphant, Lucio put a hand on his hip. His grin was utterly self-indulgent when he stated, "See? I knew it. I have a knack for finding great dogs."

His smile faltered slightly, and he looked to the rich soil under his boots. "But… where did they go? The pawprints just end here."

"Spooky, magical teleportation?" Moren suggested.

The Count exhaled a hint of a laugh. "Well, I owe that dog some ear scritches the next time we meet. Oh! And look over there. There's some kind of light on the horizon."

Squinting through the dark, Moren followed the direction Lucio was pointing. True to his word, there was a bright light illuminating the fields in the distance. The light was warm, bright. It twinkled at them in welcome.

"It's a… lighthouse?" the apprentice mused.

"You think anybody lives there? Maybe, they can help us."

Tired from their extensive journey, Moren nodded. He picked his foot up. He took a step. Then, he froze.

"About time. I wondered if you would stumble about for the rest of eternity," spoke the Devil.

From between tall stalks of wheat, black horns emerged. Beneath them was the white furred, red eyed beast Moren and Lucio had thought themselves free from. The Devil never took his eyes off the Count.

Lucio looked completely crestfallen. His knees went weak underneath him, and his shoulders sagged. To the ground, he muttered, "But we… we won. We escaped. How did you…"

The Devil sighed at him. "You never learn, Lucio. I could not follow you into the Star's labyrinth, so I simply waited for you to emerge. Unlike some, I have all the time in the world."

Snapping his claw tipped fingers, he loosed chains from his palm. They sprung straight for Lucio, bypassing Moren entirely. Each one that snatched the Count curled tighter than the last.

The man's screams were choked, and Moren raised magic into his body. Runes glowed. The scent of Lucio's clothes, burning from the intense heat of the Devil's chains, covered the air they breathed.

On gasps of breath, Lucio wheezed, "Moren! Help me! Please!"

Drawing deeply of the magic Moren had in reserve, he channeled so much power that his runes blended together. Electricity crackled around him, and he threw all of it at the Devil.

The wheat stalks burned. Dirt flew upwards in chunks of rock, but when the smoke cleared, Moren's throat felt barren. The Devil was gone, vanished with the smoke, and Lucio was nowhere to be found.

Residual energy snapped and popped around him. "Lucio!" Moren screamed into the night. He ran from one area to the other, trying to track whatever the Devil had done to steal the Count away. "Lucio!"

Dropping to his knees, Moren sunk his hands into the earth where Lucio had stood. "Damn it, Lucio! Where the fuck did he take you?" He laid his hands flat, sensing with everything he could.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could hear a voice. It was distant, full of worry. "Morand," it called out.

"Fuck off!" the apprentice screamed back. His fingers gripped the sides of his head, pulling at his hair. Not only was he lost, but Lucio was gone. The Count wouldn't stand any chance against the Devil on his own.

He had been so terrified when he'd been taken. That fear reached out to Moren. It clenched his soul with sharp claws.

Still, that voice persisted. "Morand, wake up! Please, wake up!"

That was the last thing Moren heard before the world went dark.

Rippling water. Grasping hands. Chirping birds. The new sensations slithered around Moren as he blinked into dappled sunlight. Strong, warm fingers lifted him out of the water, and when his head tilted forward, he narrowed his eyes at his flesh.

Wet cleavage reflected back up at him. His body was in its female form. That could only mean one thing. Concerned, purple eyes met Moren's gaze when the realization hit him. He'd been brought back.

Resting on one knee in front of her, Asra looked up at Morand through soggy strands of white hair. "Morand? Oh, thank goodness you're back. What happened?"

Over the magician's shoulder stood the Countess. Her brows were furrowed in worry. "Perhaps, we should give her a bit of space?"

Immediately, Asra backed up. His face held a warmth to it from blush, and he murmured, "Right. Of course, Countess. Take your time, Morand."

Bewildered, Morand wrapped hands around her wet arms and shivered. Like a woman possessed, she stood up. Her mind swirled with thoughts of the Devil. The last thing she'd seen of Lucio had been him screaming, clawing to get free of the Devil's bindings.

"Lucio," Morand growled, hating the Devil. Hating the fact that she had done nothing to save the Count.

Asra spoke up. "Lucio? What about him? Actually, where is—"

Morand silenced the magician by clamping two hands on his biceps. Pulling her master forward, she barked, "Asra, Lucio's gone! The Devil took him!"

To her exasperation, the garden fell silent. Morand wanted to scream that they needed to do something, but suddenly the Countess and magician began talking at the same time. Over the top of each other, they spoke.

"What did you say? Where did you—"

"The Devil? From your tarot deck. Is that even possible?"

Asra was the first to silence himself. Throwing a curl out of his eyes, he explained, "It is, and encountering a Major Arcana without preparation is very dangerous."

His statement was punctuated by a piercing shriek. All eyes shot upwards to see a huge, winged shadow cross over the moon. Immediately after, a massive eagle landed atop the edge of the fountain.

Nadia asked, "Who… let this creature into the garden?"

Ignoring the Countess, the bird locked eyes with the apprentice. Morand stared back into twin irises of brilliant gold. "Jæger?" she wondered.

Morand… knew that animal? Surely, it was the same eagle that had been following them throughout the magical realms. It had watched her and Lucio as they'd been swarmed by red beetles. But, how?

In answer, Jæger raised his long wings. Shrieking at her, the eagle shook its feathers. Then, it set back to preen black, white, and brown plumes.

"Jæger?" Asra asked. He stepped closer to Morand, wary of the new intruder. "Morand, how do you know?"

She didn't get a chance to reply because a new set of interruptions was occurring. The chamberlain was rushing into the garden. The feathers on their hat danced overhead as the large piece of clothing tilted askew.

"Oh, Countess, it's a disaster! Oh, no. Oh, dear." The chamberlain fretted with their hands. Just behind them was an armed stranger.

She wasted no time bursting into the scene. "You are the Countess? Nadia Satrinava?"

The Countess looked at the chamberlain. They were still apologizing, fidgeting like something had crawled up their pant leg. "Countess, I know you said you weren't to be disturbed, but she marched past the guards and—"

Nadia raised up a slim, brown hand. "You have done nothing wrong, chamberlain. Please, leave us."

Babbling so many thanks that Morand was two seconds from punting their ass kissing self out of the garden, the chamberlain backed away. Did no one understand the severity of what was going on right now? Did no one even care that Lucio was trapped by the Devil's own doing?

Fuschia eyes narrowing on the intruder, Morand listened with more patience than she thought possible.

Nadia was the first to speak. "As you have already guessed, I am Countess Nadia Satrinava. Asra and Morand are magicians, guests of the Palace, and you are…"

The spear wielding woman with her long white hair only scowled. Hot air blew from her nostrils in annoyance. When her eyes opened up, they were cold, undaunted by Nadia's title.

With a voice that begged to be challenged, the woman introduced, "I am Morga. I seek the one you call Lucio."

Asra reared backwards. He asked, "What? Why?"

Simply, this Morga stated, "He is my son."

As if that finally brought Lucio's situation back to mind, the Countess and magician looked at Morand. She was standing with her arms crossed in front of the fountain. One hip was cocked out, and a foot tapped impatiently.

Behind her, feathers unruffled. Looking at the eagle from the corner of her eye, Morand warily watched him land atop Morga's shoulder. Well, how do you do? The apprentice thought. If that woman really was Lucio's mother, it sure would explain why the Count knew the bird. Wouldn't it?

Grass crunched underneath leather boots, and Morga's stern voice spoke. "Morand, I have tracked my son for weeks now. Tell me why his trail ends with you?"

On guard, Morand crossed her arms beneath her chest. Residual magic crackled inside of her veins, but it was utterly useless. At this level, she'd barely be able to open the wards on her front door. Nonetheless, Morand coolly replied, "Lucio never mentioned you."

Slowly, eyes closed. It drew attention to two long streaks of warpaint like the black tear trails on a cheetah's face. Long locks of hair that had long since made the transition from pale blonde to ice white shook in disagreement.

"He may very much wish to forget, but I cannot." She opened eyes the same shade of grey as Lucio's. Gazing directly to the apprentice, Morga explained, "Whatever tales he told you. I am his mother."

The sharp clearing of a throat halted any questions that might have been ready to play out between those involved. From across the small circle they had made in the garden, Nadia moved between Morand and Morga.

She suggested, "If we are to discuss Lucio, let us go somewhere more discreet. It would not do to be overheard." She gave a pointed look to those servants working between rows of blooming roses and hanging ferns.

They may have looked to be working with meticulous dedication on the exterior, but servants often knew more than the nobles themselves. This was the kind of gossip that didn't need to fuel the rumor mill.

Sharp gaze following the attention of the Countess, Morga inclined her head. Begrudgingly, she replied, "If you insist."

The walk to Nadia's private balcony was an interesting one. Servants passed by the spear wielding woman with obvious curiosity. One almost ran headfirst into a statue of the late count before being corrected by the head servant.

Portia grabbed the nosy onlooker by the ear. The last Morand saw of them was Portia's fiery orange hair wisping behind an embroidered curtain.

Once all of those involved were stationed behind a glass paned door, Countess Nadia drew the interior curtains and locked the door to the balcony. A bottle of white wine had already been sat on top of a plush ottoman. Ever the gracious host, Nadia poured a glass for her guests.

In irritated sync, both Morand and Morga sat theirs off to the side. Morga spoke first. "We don't have time for niceties. Tell me what you know of my son."

The warrior was getting more agitated by the minute. Her words were spoken through gritted teeth. A hand tightened on the haft of her spear.

"Lucio and I—" A splitting pain surged through Morand's body. It reached around her throat to cut off her breath. The apprentice gasped, "Fuck!"

Threading downwards from her throat, the pain lanced until it reached her chest. There, it concentrated around her heart. Pressure squeezed, let her take a short breath, and clawed down even tighter.

Immediately, Asra was at her side. A hand on her back and one on her bicep, the magician yelped her name. Morand shook her head. Hair flung out in all directions from the motion, and she reached backwards.

Finding purchase in a column, she slid down it until the pressure let up. Finally, she could catch her breath. She inhaled. She exhaled. When she looked from the ground up, she saw three different colors of irises gaping at her.

"Goodness, you look quite terrible. Shall I send for a doctor?" Nadia asked, her voice the epitome of concern.

Asra ran soothing circles against Morand's back. There was a place there, just behind her ribs, that he focused on. His touch sent tingles of magic into there. "I don't think that's the problem. Morand, something is wrong with your magic."

No shit, Alzanar, Morand thought. Glowering at him, she took the hand he had offered her. Soon, he brought her aura into view. What would normally have been a rainbow swirl focused on waves of fuschia and grey burned bright before bleeding along a thread of silver.

"It's your connection to Lucio," Asra observed. "With him elsewhere and you here… The connection is draining your magic."

"Connection? So that is why the trail led to you." Morga spoke.

Slowly, Asra nodded. "You'd better start from the beginning, Morand. Tell us what happened."

Not missing a beat, Morand ignored the expectant stares directed her way. Quickly, she relayed the details from her first meeting the Count's ghost in his wing and how she bound his spirit to hers. Then, she turned to more recent events such as the misadventures within the magical realms.

Morand couldn't help but shiver in memory of the worms and the beetles, but her reactions grew more somber when she spoke of the Devil. That being had followed them for so long. What surprised her the most was how Morga took all the details without any shock on her hard angled face.

Shouldn't a mother be more concerned about the fate of a child being hunted by the Devil? What had Lucio done to her? Why was she looking for him in the first place?

At long last, Morand finished, "The Devil had been waiting for us. He was stalking right outside of the Star's labyrinth. When we got free of it, he chained Lucio and took him away." She paused to bare her canines at the wine glass Nadia had given her. "There was nothing I could do."

An elegant voice spoke, and Morand frowned towards Nadia. "Forgive me, Morand, but your tale is almost beyond belief. It has been less that an hour since you, Asra, and Lucio first departed."

Now, it was time for Morand to be surprised. She knew that time flowed differently amongst realms, but less than an hour? She'd been away from Lucio for short minutes. How much time was that in the magical realms?

Asra voiced the knowledge in the apprentice's head. "Time flows strangely between realms, Countess. Still, so much happened after we were separated."

While Nadia and Asra mused over new information, Morga stood up without a word. Her face held no emotion but determination. Lips were held in a firm, flatlined state.

To them all, she proclaimed, "You know what must be done. No matter where he is, my son cannot hide from me. I will find him, and free him if he is being held against his will." She snarled her lip towards the white painted panes of the balcony door. "He and I still have unfinished business."

And there went any doubt that Lucio hadn't done anything to his mother. Though the Count had proven himself to be a protector of Morand throughout their time in the realms, other people made it no mystery that he wasn't often that way. Perhaps, time as a ghost had made him remorseful of his narcissistic inspired past?

Any internal contemplation halted when those piercing grey eyes locked onto Morand. For a moment, she thought the warrior held a look of hurt/worry/remorse? But, it didn't last more than a second.

Without dallying, Morand pushed herself up on the column. She rested her hand over where Lucio's silver thread had been placed over her heart. Staring back at the warrior with a matching, stoney resolve, the apprentice said, "I'll come with you."

Again, Morand had given her word to someone. She had told Lucio she would protect him from the Devil. She may have failed, but that didn't mean the war was over. Then, there was this new, potential threat. Morand wanted to be close by for whatever business Morga had with the Count.

Dark brows the color of burnt honey raised the least bit. Morga looked at Morand with a hint of respect, like the apprentice had passed some unstated test. "You are wiser than he was. Let us be on our way. There isn't a moment to lose."

When Morga stepped, Morand was right on her heels. Only Asra's voice kept them from demanding the balcony key from Nadia. Asra hollered, "Wait. Wait. No one's going back to the magical realms without me. This time, I'm going to make sure we all stay together."

Morga's smile of self-confidence was so like Lucio that Morand had to blink the comparison away. The warrior replied, "Ha! I'm no fool, boy. I know what lies on the other side."

Asra's mouth opened to form a surprised O. "You do? I thought—"

That since Lucio was magical dead weight that his mother would be as well, Morand finished the thought inside her mind. She couldn't blame her master. To think that a dense man like Lucio would have come from a talented magician would be rather farfetched.

Humor draining from her face, Morga brought the conversation to the task at hand. "And we will need Jæger. He can help track our quarry."

As if in challenge, the eagle glared towards Morand's master. His gold eyes looked like they would love for Asra to doubt him. Perhaps, Lucio did take after this woman. She oozed confidence, pride. The only difference was that Morga seemed like the type to actually pull off her boasts.

Though he looked worried, Asra exhaled. His slumped shoulders were the ultimate statement of defeat. Morga and the eagle would be going with them.

Truly, Morand could barely spare them much concern. Her focus was on the promise she'd made. The promise she would keep, and the man trapped in another realm. She didn't want to think about what could happen to Lucio if he stayed away from her. Perhaps, their connection would give him some relief from whatever the Devil might do to him? She hoped so.

As she impatiently waited, she eavesdropped.

Asra addressed the Countess. "Countess, I hate to trouble you again so soon, but…"

"It is hardly troublesome. I will look after things here at the palace."

"I'll leave my familiar with you. She can keep you company."

Morand couldn't stop a gentle smile from forming when Faust slithered from Asra's sleeve. The snake made herself at home beside the Countess. Nadia smiled fondly at the serpent. "Oh, what a delightful creature."

"We're wasting time. If you have no other preparations, we should depart," Morga snapped, and Morand couldn't agree with her more. The longer Asra dallied with the Countess, the more time Lucio was trapped. The man had barely handled being a ghost in his own palace. Surely, he was losing his mind by now.