Ishizu called just as Marik was starting on dishes. He'd shown Zorc how to use the computer and had pulled up Wikipedia as a way to help it get caught up to speed. The news was alright for current events, but he was shocked to find that Zorc had no idea of anything that had happened in the past twenty years or so. Needless to say, Zorc was practically hypnotized by the screen as Marik turned off the faucet and answered. "Hi, Ishizu."

"Hello, Marik. I got your message - you're looking for books on magic? Why?"

"Saif was at the museum the other day and they had a pretty interesting one. We were just curious if there were any more around."

Ishizu paused for a long moment. "…Is everything alright? Neither of you have never shown interest in mysticism."

Marik's heart skipped a beat. "Oh. I think he's more curious about the history. You know how he gets sometimes - something catches his eye and he just has to know about it."

"Alright." She sounded unconvinced, but she continued, "There are some similar books at the museum in Alexandria, but the Grand Egyptian Museum would certainly have a collection."

"Cool. Hey, maybe we could take a family day, go and visit. It'd be a nice distraction."

"I have some days off coming up," she said, something in her voice sounded pleased about the idea. "I'll talk to Rishid and see if we can find a day. Good night, Marik. I love you."

"I love you too, Ishizu." Marik hung up, shoulders slumping.

"What's the verdict?"

He jumped, startled, as Zorc slid up behind him, staring down at the phone curiously. "You know, for a… whatever you are… you're light-footed." Zorc smiled briefly, although it seemed more like it was bearing its teeth, which were slightly too sharp. "There's nothing here in the city," Marik said, setting his phone to the side and focusing back on the dishes. "We'd probably have to go to Giza."

"Mm." Zorc slipped around the corner, the chair at the computer desk creaking as he took a seat again. "By the way, you were sleeping on the couch because I need the bed. Believe it or not, sleeping with wings can be a bit challenging."

Marik frowned to himself. That would explain why he was on the couch. "Couldn't you wrap them around yourself? You know, like a bat?"

Zorc paused for a second. "...Hm. I could certainly try it. But also consider that the fact I need to sleep in the first place is your sword's fault, and I think giving me your bed is a small price to pay to make it up to me."

"Why do you call him that?" Marik asked curiously, dousing his frying pan in soapy water and carefully scrubbing it out. "His name's Saif."

"Yes, and 'Saif' means 'sword'. What's the difference?"

"You're equating his name to its meaning and not to him as a person."

He could hear Zorc sigh from around the corner. "Fine. I'll make a note of it."

Marik emptied the sink and dried off his hands. He was due back to work the next day, so he plugged his phone in at the computer desk and settled onto the sofa. "Use headphones if you're going to be on that all night," he said with a yawn. He only lasted the better part of an hour before his eyelids started to feel heavy, and he only rose again to turn off the lights before falling into an easy slumber.

He woke up to something sharp poking him in the shoulder and the chirp of a phone's alarm. "Your thing's going off," Zorc said as he yawned, stretching out on the couch.

"Urgh," Marik said in response, blindly grabbing for the phone and scraping the side of his hand against one of Zorc's claws in the process. He hissed quietly, eyes opening to see the demon standing above him and a notification that he had to work today. "Right." He sat up, tossed the blankets off, and headed to the bathroom.

"The sword - Saif didn't mention you had a job," Zorc said from outside of the bathroom door. "But then again, I suppose that should have been safe to assume. What do you do, anyway?"

"We're mechanics," Marik called back once he'd brushed his teeth. As he wet his face with a washcloth to start shaving, he explained, "Our boss gave us a few days off to deal with the investigation and heal up. It's usually eight hour shifts - will you be okay with that?"

"Eight?" Zorc asked incredulously.

"We get breaks, about half an hour for lunch. I could probably find a spot to let you stretch your wings."

Zorc paused, then huffed a laugh. "You're very considerate. Do you think playing the part of gracious host will quell my wrath?"

"If we're going to be stuck like this, I might as well make it as painless as possible. And if it just so happens to make you less inclined to kill us, all the better." Marik dried himself off and examined himself in the mirror. He was due for a haircut and maybe a few more hours of sleep, but otherwise, they looked fine. He emerged from the bathroom and headed off to brush his hair and change, and Zorc followed, making itself cozy on the bed.

"I might need to eat again soon," it said, examining its claws. "The food from last night was nice, but not nearly as filling as a body."

"Okay. I can probably pick up something for you." Fully dressed, Marik turned to Zorc and held his arm out. "Ready?"

Zorc cracked its neck and sighed, dissipating into smoke and swarming Marik's arm. Marik couldn't help but grimace watching the smoke settle under his skin, climbing up towards his neck and down his back, making him shiver. "I'll let you know if I need anything," Zorc said, its voice echoey and quiet.

"Alright." Marik grabbed his bag and headed out the door. The shop he worked at was within walking distance, a small blessing for making sure he got out of the house. The only downside was that he couldn't ride his bike; he definitely needed to take it for a drive. After work, he decided with a nod to himself. Hopefully, Zorc didn't get motion sickness.

His boss was at the front desk as he entered the building, greeting him with a wave. "Welcome back!" his boss said jovially, pausing to examine him. "…Marik today, right?"

"Yes," Marik said with a surprised smile. "How could you tell?"

"The way you walk," his boss explained, standing straight up and puffing his chest out. "You're open, ready to greet the world! Saif…" His boss hunched over slightly, his posture closed off. "Goes defensive. Keeps the world out."

"Wow. You're observant. Well, I can't do a whole lot of heavy lifting, but just tell me where to go."

To make things easier on him, he was mostly on assistance duty, holding lights and doing diagnostics for the most part. For lunch, he headed to his favorite food stall to get his usual order of taameya, and he picked up a chicken shawarma for Zorc. "I thought you didn't eat meat, Marik," the owner of the stall said, eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Ah, it's for my coworker," Marik lied quickly with a bright smile. When he was younger, a family friend had told him that he had a smile that could get him out of trouble, and he was glad to see she had been right, as the stall owner didn't ask any more questions. With lunch in hand, he headed behind the mechanic shop to let Zorc out, handing it the shawarma once it had manifested. "This area's blocked off, so no one should be able to see us."

"Nice." Zorc practically tore into the shawarma, pausing to savor the flavors. It pressed against the cement wall blocking off the back of the shop from the nearby street, so the only way anyone could see it was if they were looking at it head-on. "Mm. Wow, I've been missing out."

"You don't usually eat human food, I take it?"

"Human bodies, especially hearts, give me more power, but they tend to taste rather plain. Especially if they're not worthy."

Marik wrinkled his nose in mild disgust. Eating human hearts sounded awful to him, but despite himself, he asked, "What does that mean? 'Worthy'?"

"Certain people have more of a connection to the gods. Inherent magical talent. Do you remember how I said Saif would make a good magician-priest? It's because his blood is worthy."

"Which would make… my blood worthy, too, right?"

Zorc smirked, its tone shifting to sound nearly playful. "Hold out your hand and we can find out." Marik finished off his taameya and held out his hand. Holding its shawarma in one hand, Zorc slowly reached out with the other and scratched its claw across his palm, just hard enough to collect a drop of blood on the tip. Marik flinched, watching as Zorc lifted its hand to its mouth and licked its claw. Its expression as it tasted his blood reminded Marik of videos he'd seen of sommeliers judging wine. "Yes," Zorc said after a second. "One and the same."

Marik swallowed hard. "So, would that explain why Saif was able to bind you to us?"

Zorc frowned slightly, taking another bite of shawarma and saying through a mouthful of chicken, "Most likely." Marik glanced down at himself with a frown. "Most people would be excited to know they had something special about them."

"It's complicated. My father… he talked a lot about this stuff. Magic, the gods, rituals. But he made it sound more like a burden, a curse." He laughed humorlessly. "I guess he was right." Something twisted in his stomach, and he could practically hear Saif hissing, 'No, no, he wasn't, it's not true, fuck that bastard,' and Marik let him rant it out, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "Well. Maybe that'll make it easier to unbind us, then."

"You're a hopeful one," Zorc said with a little laugh.

Their meal break done, Zorc returned to its tattoo form, and Marik was able to finish the day with only a minor ache in his injured shoulder. He got back home without any issues, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table and collapsing on the sofa, flinching slightly as he felt Zorc crawl down his arm and start to reform, sitting right next to him. "I'm going to take a nap," Marik mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Alright. I suppose I can entertain myself somehow," Zorc said, sarcasm slipping into its voice as it reached for the television remote. Marik jolted slightly as the volume swung a bit too loud, and Zorc swore quietly before turning it back down. Marik couldn't help but smile, nuzzling into the pillows of his makeshift bed.

Saif woke up to a claw poking him in the arm. He swung his arm with a mumbled, "Knock it off."

"Get up and make dinner, then," Zorc said next to him, and he opened his eyes with a groan. It was leaning over him slightly, expression petulantly teasing. "This is annoying," it continued as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't need to eat this often before."

"You were also eating whole bodies before," Saif said, looking around. The sun was setting through the windows - they'd been asleep for a while. "Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of those just lying around. And I'm not planning on changing that any time soon."

Zorc paused, tilting its head. "The sword. Saif. Interesting. I thought it would be more obvious, somehow."

"What? Oh, when we switch?" Saif shrugged and stood, shuffling into the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge in Marik's handwriting that he briefly stopped to read - 'it likes kofta!', followed by a little doodle of Zorc's face. He snorted a little laugh. "Yeah. Usually, we just say something."

"Your boss can tell by the way you walk."

Saif looked up over the door of the refrigerator, eyebrows raised. "Really? Huh. Then again, he knows us pretty well." He ducked back down into the fridge and examined the package of liver he'd bought - he needed to use it up quickly, so he grabbed his phone and started looking up recipes. Liver sandwiches seemed like a good bet, so he set his phone down and got to work slicing up some vegetables. "He was the only mechanic in town who didn't slam the door in our face when we applied for a job."

"Having a split mind is that much of an issue?"

"We're not split, really, but a lot of people think we're faking it or that we're just crazy. Then, when they see it's for real, they get weird about it. They think it's a liability. But our boss saw how much Marik likes working with machinery and decided to give us a shot."

Zorc stood up from the sofa and padded into the kitchen, peering around his shoulder to watch what he was doing. "Neither of you give the impression of working with machines."

"Marik saw a photo of a motorcycle when he was younger and it was all over from there. His bike is his pride and joy, and he won't let anyone else touch it." Saif took a break from the sandwich to let the liver marinate, reaching into the fridge for a drink and spotting a couple of bottles of beer, the last remnant of a case they'd bought a few weeks ago. He shrugged to himself and grabbed one, popping the cap open and taking a swig. "Eventually, he got so good at fixing it up and maintaining it that we figured we might as well make it our job. I'm not half-bad, either, so it works out."

Zorc leaned back against the opposite counter with a thoughtful hum. "Symbiosis. Interesting. All thing considered, perhaps there were worse people to be bound to."

"Aw," Saif said, touching his chest. "I'm flattered."

Zorc swatted him on the arm with its tail, making sure to avoid hitting him with any of the spines. Saif fumbled slightly, even a small tap nearly making him drop his bottle. "Don't get cute. I'm still expecting you to fix this. That reminds me, you said you don't remember anything Marik does, right? He said your sister might know where to start looking."

"He told Ishizu about you?"

"No, he just made you out to be an amateur historian."

Saif groaned. "That's even worse."

Zorc laughed, and its smile seemed incredibly genuine, so genuine that Saif couldn't help but smile back. He set his beer bottle down and turned back to the liver on the counter. The sandwiches came together pretty easily, thankfully, and Saif picked a meal from the freezer and popped it into the microwave for himself as Zorc headed back to the living room. He polished off his beer and, after rinsing it out, grabbed the other from the fridge.

After a few trips, he managed to get dinner set on the coffee table in the living room. Water and liver for Zorc and a microwave meal and beer for Saif. It certainly wasn't the same as the family dinners they'd had growing up, sat around a table in tense silence. Saif took a swig from his beer and decided that this was much better.

"It's strange to see you so thoughtful," Zorc commented as it bit into its sandwich.

"It's… been a while since we've sat down to eat with someone else." The alcohol started to swim in Saif's head, and his tongue felt loose. "We moved out on our own a while ago. We have our brother and sister, but we're all adults now. They have lives." He paused, then added with a snort, "Well, Rishid tries, anyway."

As Saif tucked into his food, Zorc mulled that over. "Solitude isn't that bad. I've been alone as long as I can remember."

"What about your cult?"

Zorc shrugged, licking its claws as it finished its meal. It had eaten like a starving man, barely taking time to savor it. "Usually, I'd just listen to their devotions, take energy from it. It wasn't until they sealed me in this body that I actually spoke to them, met them."

Saif frowned to himself, picking at the last few remnants of his meal. 'It's always been Marik and our siblings - I came along a bit later, but they took me in eventually, too."

"You weren't born with Marik?"

Saif shook his head. "No, he made me when he was… eleven, I think? That's when our father went really off the deep end, so I had to step in."

"So he manifested you," Zorc mused. "Marik mentioned your father was quite knowledgeable about magic and rituals. That must be where you got it from."

Saif very briefly remembered being woken earlier and felt that violent defiance fill his chest again. "Our father was a narcissistic psychopath who would beat his children into unconsciousness rather than admit to being wrong. Don't ever compare us again." The apartment fell deathly silent as Zorc raised its brows. Saif eventually sighed and said, "Sorry. He's… a touchy subject."

"Clearly." Zorc tilted its head slightly. "You say 'was'. So he's dead now?"

"Yes, thank whatever gods are listening."

"You're welcome." Saif gave Zorc an unamused glance, to which is simply smiled. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Ishtar, but your father was onto something. I told Marik this already, but you have inherent magic abilities - it's what allowed you to summon me in the first place. The blood of the worthy. If you didn't have that and you'd tried to bind me, you would've been destroyed." Saif said nothing, taking another swig of beer. Zorc watched him for a moment before sighing, its smile fading. "I'm not saying the rest of whatever he did justifies it. He was unfortunately right about that one thing, that's all."

"Marik used to be terrified," Saif said quietly, staring down at the coffee table. He could see the grains through the cheap varnish, and he followed them with his eyes as he said, "He got the least of it, but that just meant that he had to watch. He wanted to protect Rishid and Ishizu so badly, but… he was so young."

Zorc sighed again, although its expression was a bit softer now. "I'm not a sympathetic sort, so I apologize for not having a great bedside manner. But… you've had a pretty rough go at life, haven't you?"

"Yeah. We have." Saif finished off his beer, his head properly feeling fuzzy now. He leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. "It's better now. Or, it was, until all this happened."

"All the more reason to get this done, then." Zorc set its plate on the coffee table and turned back to the television, but Saif didn't watch. His eyes refused to open, and he found himself drifting off, mind swirling as he convinced himself that it was, in fact, better now. Better than it had ever been.

When he opened his eyes again, it was dark. The plates were gone from the coffee table, and Zorc was nowhere to be seen. Saif's head was still fuzzy as he climbed to his feet. He needed to go to bed, and he didn't even pause on seeing the door already shut. In the dark, he undressed before climbing under the covers, ignoring the body already lying flat on the mattress. He heard a confused voice mumble, "Ishtar?" next to him, but he ignored that, too, his mind starting to drift off again in the comfort of his bed.

He could feel weight shifting on the bed, something wrapping around him, and then, he slept.