There was darkness in every living being – always was – and though he could see it as long as he could remember, when Ares was little, the sight of it terrified him out of his mind.
He started to notice it whenever his mother, Cassiopeia, left their home outside of Amarout and when she returned there were patches and blotches of ugly shades of colors marring her normally beautiful soul. Those bruise-like discolorations melted away only when his father, Nyx, was around. Ares didn't understand that – or the fact that he could see that was in any way unusual- but once he saw something similar happen whenever his aunt, Venat, visited their home, the thought of 'outside' brought in his young mind nothing but terror.
Their home – with his father's near constant presence that made the colors around him bright and beautiful – was safe and free of the scary affliction. And being around his dad made Ares feel happy and calm, and he was too young to know it also wasn't natural. While occasionally questioning look in his mother's eyes unnerved him, he never thought to mention what he was seeing – thinking all around him could see as well.
Until it came to ahead when he grew bigger and still refused to leave their home.
His mother grew worried watching his behavior if only much later he found out that until then, she let herself be lulled into thinking he naturally inherited his father's good-natured personality and that was the source of his tendency to be calm and cheerful.
It was well known that the offspring most commonly inherited magnified traits of his or her parents, which led Cassiopeia - with hope that it was the case – to believe that he was spared her uncanny ability to see souls. That idea also stood behind the creation of the customs that ruled their society. The customs his parents scandalously discarded, choosing to Bond in a mere year after their meeting, instead of spending centuries looking for a most fitting partner and basing that pick on cold logic.
Like anything else in their world: for the betterment of Eitherys.
But he didn't know that then, his childish innocence safely cocooned by his parents love for him and each other. But while his aunt wondrous stories from her travels made his eyes shone with enthusiasm, his constant refusal to face the world himself finally worked to make his mother grow suspicious that her hopeful assumption was wrong.
When she confronted him about that, he was surprised but with some embarrassment explained how distressing for him was the sight of those awful shades of colors… to weep in terror when hearing this his mother's beautiful soul bloomed with rotten shades of blues, purple and browns despite the safety of their domain. She held him tight until he calmed down – or rather exhausted himself with tears – then in sad, hollow voice explained that what he was seeing was not a mark of sickness as he feared, but shades of negative emotions. That she was seeing them as well, but none of the others shared that 'gift.' Cautioned him against sharing his impressions with others – taught herself by experience that their people thrived on pretending that their world was free of such feelings. And asked him not to mention to his father his uncanny ability to make those ugly colors melt away.
Again, he was too young to truly understand the implications of such skill, but somewhat relived to finally know what was that affliction, Ares agreed easily because that made his mother's soul grow brighter and lovelier again.
Both then unaware that the worst was yet to come.
The first time shy, brown eyes catches his stare his not much more than only surprised to not see malice or ridicule he's more than used to, that it takes him a while to recognize the interest. The brunettes, Seeker like him, often passes by his reading spot in the city's park and then, sometimes – when nobody is there to see it – she even stops and soon enough it turns into occasional chats about the weather, her studies or even the cat that often would nap in his lap.
It's sweet, awkward and innocent… until it isn't and his heart is somewhere above the clouds with elation. He falls for her quick and hard, and is too blinded by it to notice the way she sheds away from anyone else knowing about them.
Then he does notice when after their first night together it doesn't change and she pretends not to know him while his cursed, mismatched eyes follow her toward the path leading to the Studium. She is not alone, and she laughs when one of her friends points toward him and says something in the familiar, mocking notes.
His heart breaks, but when she apologizes later – he pretends it doesn't matter and tells himself that even that is better than nothing. It goes on like that for a while until he can't ignore the pit in his heart every time she passes him without a word and like he is nothing.
The hint of relief in her brown eyes when he asks her to end it probably what hurts the most. But it's better that way – he tells himself, hoping to believe it sooner rather than later – and he goes back to his endless loneliness.
I wonderrr … purrs familiar voice in the back of T'senri's soul and he flinches right before the image fades.
When he reached the age children were expected to start honing their skills to one day join their peoples' calling in making their world better, Ares with the help of his beautiful mother – in secret from his father – learned to hide his disgust with rotten shadows eating away at the souls of the people around them. As expected, while his mother saw pale shades of those colors, for him they were vibrant and disturbing in their clarity, but he learned to ignore the occasional nausea the sight caused.
Then everything changes when his affinity for creation magic was tested and its dismally low level sparks new, disgusting shades in his peers souls.
"Figures," was the only thing that said the man running the test and his soul blooms with rotting shades of yellows and orange. The sight so disturbing Ares quickly forgotten the pretty shades of red and pinks that blossomed at his sight in the souls of the girls he passed on the way to the class and he's downright thankful for the mask that covered the most of his expression
He hated them – the masks and the identical robes he was expected to wear anytime he wanted to leave his parents home – but he learned to hide that too, alongside his 'gift.' He hated what they represented: another way to hide the rot eating away on their insides and pretend that their world was perfect.
After that day the word spreads quickly and soon the yellow and orange bloomed whenever his classes force him to leave the safety of his home. He was older then, but it still took him a while what those specific shades meant. When he asked his mother about them, he regretted that instantly as again her soul tinted with bruised blues, purples and browns. But running her fingers through his black hair, she explained quietly that those people saw his lack of talent for creation – such unusual thing for their peers – as a proof of their prejudice against his parents union. She told him not to let it bother him – because for her and his father he was perfect – and he tried… or at least pretended to, swiftly learning to fake cheer to not cause his parents grief.
Then one day his classmate pushed just hard enough with his teasing – repeating the words overheard from the adults – and Ares snapped, for the first time proving that despite his family's expectations and his looks, he definitely inherited his mother's famously harsh temper. Again, powerfully magnified. He snapped and told the boy where exactly he could shove his ideas, then with surprise watched the colors of his soul dim and to Ares's shock, the boy attempted to do exactly as instructed… as impossible as it sounded.
It was amusing at first – and fiercely satisfying – to make those who dared to ridicule him and his family embarrass themselves. Addictive, too, as with mere wore he could make the ugly colors disappear. Then yellow and orange was exchanged for rotten shades of black and greens that made his stomach roll.
And when one day he came home and saw the same colors bloom in his mother's soul when she saw him, he understood instantly and pure terror squeezed his chest until he could barely breathe.
He could see the souls of others, but not his own. But that day, seeing the fear and disgust in his mother's eyes, he knew that it was another thing he shared with her. And the thought how his soul had to look in that moment to cause it, he swore to never again use his ability.
The damage, however, was done and there was just no taking it back. Word of his skill spread and became another reason for their people to reject his existence.
And soon the rotten shade of gray it represented in his eyes, was all he knew.
The night he lets the green-eyed blond Keeper lure him into her bed, he's drunk. The older Students who suggested to him to earn Archon's marks that would grant him wider access to the tomes filling Noumenon, drag him out of his bedroom for the celebration of his passing. And the slight ache of the healing tattoos is suddenly somehow more worth it, as for once he doesn't feel like an outcast at least for a moment.
By the time the blonde corners him against the wall of the tavern the students frequent whenever there's a reason to celebrate, he's so drunk and horny he doesn't care about the chill in her eyes.
When she pulls him out of the building and the Students laugh, he doesn't care about that as well. It's all a blur of colors, sounds, touch and taste that somehow swiftly turns painful and unpleasant. He wakes up the next day sore and embarrassed that he doesn't even know the blonde's name – and bolts, dressing in a rush. There's shock and fury in the green eyes as they follow his escape, but considering he can't remember anything pleasant from that night, for once he hope she acts like everyone else and forget it as fast as he hoped to leave this whole experience behind.
T'senri's skin crawls as the chilling chuckle sounds next to his ear right before a pair of muscular, clawed arms wraps around his chest from behind. The touch feels cold like ice, but he can't bring himself to mind as the image fades away.
Interrresting, isn't it, Senrrri? Too-familiar rasp sends a shiver down his spine and he closes his eyes, trying to push back the disgust and rage those visions spiked, knowing that his beast fed on them. He tried, but what those images suggested and reminded him of, set his fur to bristle in alarm and even the chill of Esteem as it pressed tight against his back and rested its head against his shoulder felt better than the frost thickening the blood in his veins. And it picked up on it, as always, tightening its grin around him with a satisfied, rumbling purr. I wonderrr… afterrr that, even a beast has to be an imprrrovment, don't you think, Senrrri? Though… forrr how long…?
He swallows back the bile rising in his throat and involuntarily leans back into his beast's embrace, refusing to open his eyes as another vision sparks to life around him.
Thank the gods, he notices her before she does him, and Ares downright dives in the nearest alley between the tall buildings of Amarout without a thought. The disappointment of the latest lover who ended up laughing in his face at his ultimatum is still too fresh and sore to deal with meeting her, so despite how embarrassing it is, he breaths out with relief as he exits the other side of the alley. He isn't too familiar with the capital of their world – and especially this part of the city – so he stops, trying to orient himself.
By now his infamy is his constant shadow, so he doesn't even notice the curious or lustful stares he can almost feel despite the masks covering most of the expressions of people passing around him. He hates this city – or rather the people littering its streets – because of the enormity and depth of the shades of rotten colors that seemed to nearly push at his senses from all around him. Especially this part of the city – near the Beauroof the Architect – he usually avoided with dedication as the colors of people who frequented it seemed especially disgusting.
Hubris of people who thought themselves above the creation and its yellow-green shades never failed to make his stomach roll. But this visit to the city has a goal and he tries to focus on it instead. Rare as were requests from his father, Ares hummed with consideration, looking around and trying to guess as path that would lead him to the building containing the offices of the Convocation of Fourteen. Busy as Nyx was with his latest project, when his older sister called and announced that she was briefly in the city for a meeting called by the Speaker, his father asked him somewhat sheepishly to make his way to her and pick up a packet Venat apparently brought back for them. Ares didn't really mind, as rare occasions to catch his aunt between her travels always worked to improve his mood.
And right about now – after yet another rejection – he could definitely use that… He lost track of thoughts as his eyes widened impossibly at the unusual sight across the massive square. A couple strolled along the path – which in itself wasn't unusual – but what had him completely baffled instantly was the sight of the soul of the tall, redheaded male.
He had no color. And in the surrounding them sea of the vibrant, rotten shades of their peers emotions only he could see, it had Ares more than gawk in astonishment. Even the female hanging onto the redhead's arm and seemingly completely consumed by chatter at her companion radiated the shades of greens, yellows and violet, and next to her the male's unusual blankness somehow seemed even more stark. And as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, the female caught the sight of him and visibly nudged her apparently distracted companion, pointing toward him. That – and how her soul sparked with the shades of lust and fear – didn't surprise him as much as what happened when his eyes met the bright, cyan eyes across the space of the square.
The unique blankness suddenly downright exploded with the dazzling mix of gorgeous shades of scarlet and crimson, like a blaze of a flame in between the surrounding them filth and Ares was instantly mesmerized. Even the cool detachment in the cyan irises took none of the glory of that sight, and he was instantly, painfully smitten. The raw need to get his hands on that vision had him cross the separating them distance without a thought and before he even knew what happened, he was on his knees in front of that man, begging him to be his.
The shock and the way the redhead's jaw simply dropped was almost funny if not for the fact that his very soul cringed in terror when he realized what he was doing. The thought of yet another rejection he was just asking for…
"But… I'm a man," the male gasp, while looking over himself as if making sure, and despite his fear, Ares's lips twitched at the hilarity of that.
"I know," he assured instead seriously, because at least that wasn't an outright 'no.' What did his gender matter when the flame of his soul seemed to promise the very thing he was so desperately searching for…?
One look and he knew, instinctively, that if he could win his heart, it would be his alone – and a prize like that was worth the risk.
…or so he thought before the full, plush lips twisted in a grimace of disgust and the blaze of the scarlet-crimson soul dimmed back to that strange blankness. Then tinted with the too-familiar shades of gray and he knew the answer before the redhead open his mouth again.
"You must be insane," he scoffed, then left, pulling the shocked female along.
Ares didn't move, staring at the ground and so… numb inside that sudden press of chill against his back felt like a relief.
Did you trrruly expect anything else? A delicate, soothing purr against his ear had his heart drop in the pit of his stomach as he closed his eyes and shook his head. No, assuming anything else than rejection would be the true insanity. Somewhat comforting – if almost as cold as the frost in his veins – embrace around his chest feels better that facing the emptiness of the space the redhead's blaze left behind him so he relaxes in it involuntarily. Poorrr, lonely Arrres… So much pain and darrrkness in yourrr soul. Let me take it and I prrromise, it won't hurrrt as much.
He laughs bitterly through his too-tight throat and even as scorching – yet cold – tears slips his eyelids, he gives in with a sigh. He's so tired… and if he couldn't have him.. what else there was to do…?
Open yourrr eyes, Senrrri, Esteem purrs, wrapping its clawed hand around his jaw. This you don't want to miss, I prrromise.
And though he knows how it ends – giving it what its wants – he can't help but peel his eyes open, honestly terrified of the gleeful note in the raspy vouce that sounds so much like his own.
This time its not an image of another female who had the honor of laying her hands on what was his, yet didn't pay a proper tribute to the wonder of his soulmate. No, this time it was Raha alone, looking somewhat almost tiny, curled into a ball in the middle of their nest and pulling one of the blankets around himself tightly. His handsome face is wonderfully flushed with one of his adorable blushes, but then it twists with more than a hint of misery when his hand visibly lets go of the blanket and under its surface drifts to his shoulder – to the exact spot where T'senri know he carries his mark.
And that look in the pretty, mismatched irises he knows is what Esteem wants him to see. It knows he loves his mate's eyes and how they express his emotions so very clearly there wasn't much words needed for him to know what his beast was so gleeful about. And because of that he knew – no matter how much he wishes to believe it was one of its games – that it was real memory not a fake intended to punish him.
The regret and desolation his lover's clear, red-cyan eyes as he touches T'senri's mark is just too painful to be anything but real. And it suddenly makes so much more sense – why Damon so out of nowhere released his hold on Raha's soul. Terrible sense, but still…
Two days, Esteem chuckles, tightening it's grip around him. That's how long it took for him to rrregrrret being ourrrs. Isn't it almost hilarrrious, Senrrri? Two days… I warrrned you, he'll brrreak us, didn't I?
"You did," he whispers, closing his eyes and falling back deeper into its chilling embrace. If their bond would be broken, would that force their immortal passengers back into slumber? Was that why Damon forced the more intense frenzy on them?
Ascians can't be trrrusted, Senrrri, you do know that, Esteem purrs and he feels its claws bite into his skin but the pain is welcome distraction from the idea that rises in his head and makes his soul shrivel in terror. Only I trrruly know you and carrre about you. If you wake up, the frrrenzy will resume and they'll gleefully let you rape him again. They don't carrre, Senrri, not as long as it allows them theirrr schemes.
"No, no, no," he shakes his head violently in its grip and soon he shakes all over as the memories he hates rise to the edges of his consciousness. Did Raha feel as helpless and betrayed as when he…? He swore to protect him, his beautiful, sweet soulmate and then….
The storrry of ourrr life, isn't it? For once there's no glee but the pure sadness that matches the one that brims in his heart until it spills in the scorching trail of tears across his face. As much as we trrry… as fierrrcely as we fight and no matterrr what we have to sacrrrifice… we can't prrrotect what matterrrs the most.
"I… can't…" he sobs as his soul crumbles. The horrific kaleidoscope of mixed feelings and memories – his and Raha's – fills his chest with the shards of glass and he can't breathe as Esteem tighten its grip around his soul.
Shhh, it purrs soothingly and in the raging storm it becomes his anchor. Sleep, Senrrri. Sleep and I will keep him safe frrrom you, I prrromise. Sleep and I'll punish them forrr forrrcing you to do to him worrrse than was done to you. Sleep… for yourrr sweet, prrrecious Rrraha.
And for him, and him alone… he gives in. Because no matter how twisted was his beast, at least it never lied to him.
G'raha realized how bad he fucked up, when Damon's explanation of how his idea was supposed to work was cut short by a raspy, growly whisper against his ear and when a big, clawed hand wrapped around his throat.
"Don't move orrr talk, Rrraha," followed by downright nasty chuckle had the blood downright freeze in his veins. And when Senri shifted, unceremoniously pushing him to his back and he saw his eyes…
What the actual fuck…? Damon gasped with obvious note of shock and if that wasn't a real sign of how badly he screwed up… It was supposed to be gone.
"Told you you'll harm him worrrst of all," the vicious, fanged grin on Senri's beautiful face was accompanied by the familiar sight of insanely dilated pupils if there was a distinctive change to that. While his right iris looked like a tiny, pale blue ring around it, the left was inhumanely bright and sky-blue. "But I do thank you. Arrres thought he can get rrrid of me, but it seems that he has even morrre darrrkness in his soul than Senrrri. And some verrry handy skills," it purred through its fangs with glee. It, because the inhumanely feral gaze as it trailed over his face while its clawed hand tightened around his throat had nothing to do with his sweet, caring Senri. "Trrry to take overrr, Damon and I'll snap his neck beforrre you can utter a worrrd," it added and he almost physically felt his immortal recoil, backing off with a litany of something that sounded like a string of profanities in a language he never heard before.
Frozen and unable to even gasp, he could only stare as the beast in his lover's skin shifted, rising to all fours over him without letting go of his throat.
"You almost had me, Rrraha, with yourrr prrretty worrrds," it hissed with an obvious disgust on Senri's beautiful face and his heart shriveled in terror instantly at the barely there hint of hurt in the feral eyes. "Yet, all it took was two days… Pathetic, isn't it…? Senrrri's brrroken, just like I knew you would cause. But don't worry, Rrraha, I know who is rrreally to blame," it tapped the tips of the claws of its free hand against his forehead. "Can't trrrust an Ascian. Lucky forrr you, I have just a way to frrree you from us and punish them at the same time," it's grin might be terrifying if not for the sadness in the wild eyes.
Fuck, no! Damon snarled and he felt a strange pull on his soul at the same time as the beautiful beast leaned in and with the heartbreaking misery whispered against his lips:
"Brrreak," the strangely hypnotic note in its deep, raspy voice was now more pronounced, but he didn't had time to wonder about it as something in his soul snapped and despite the apparent compulsion he choked on a whine at the too-familiar sensation of the unbearable loneliness. Only the moment it disappeared, he noted the delicate reassuring hum of Senri's feelings in the back of his head. And he wanted it back so painfully it tore at his soul almost as much as Damon's furious shriek.
"I'll eviscerate you for that," his mouth moved outside of his will as his soul was shoved into the back of his head brutally. "Cut you out at your roots, Esteem, and remove you like the tumor you are!"
"And rrrisk yourrr prrrecious Arrres?" the beast mocked with a wide, fanged grin, pulling its hands back and jumping to its feet outside of the nest. "He's mine now, Damon. Without the bond you won't be able to wake him again unless I let you. You took frrrom us, and I took frrrom you – equilibrrrium, yes?" its laugh was downright terrifying despite Damon's infuriated hiss in answer and the way the immortal in his skin scrambled to all fours, glaring daggers at the beast and working his jaw furiously. "Now, now… don't pout. It's unbecoming forrr yourrr age."
"You stupid, mindless beast," Damon snarled, jumping to his feet and rolling his hands into fists. "Raha didn't want the bond broken because he doesn't want you, but because he thought himself not worthy of you, asshole!"
Uncertainty flashed in the mismatched irises and disappeared as quickly.
"Morrre lies, Ascian," it clicked its tongue with a grimace, then dressed in Senri's discarded clothes without the rush under Damon's murderous glare. "We had enough of yourrr games. Now, we have worrrk to do, so stay clearrr of us, Damon, orrr you won't like what prrrice I'll execute from Arrres next," with that it saluted toward them mockingly and disappeared with a flash of black-purple aether.
"Fuck…" Damon hissed through his teeth, wrapping his arms around himself and hanging his head.
Damon… G'raha whimpered helplessly.
"Shhh, boy, let me think," the immortal said with a strangely cold and detached tone, rubbing his hands over his arms as if as chilled as he felt.
And because he knew it was all his fault – his and his stupid insecurities – he complied without a word, curling into miserable ball in the back of their shared head.