The Horse with No Name
Chapter Fourteen
Momento Mori: Part One – From the Bottom of the Glass
The scattering of dusted papers and worn books litter the desk in profuse piles. Gohan's yet to see a messier person than Mori of Revelation, with his ample amount of research documents emerging out of every possible crevice imaginable. But it's in this dream that Gohan sees the true lengths of Mori's haphazard organization, the incredible dedication to clutter the god had when studying.
Gohan recognizes some of the books. They're from his current library, wedged right to the back now after he'd discarded them disinterestedly, but apparently, they're pretty important if Mori's bubbling excitement is anything to go by. The god feels upbeat –alive with manic levels of exhilaration. And whilst Gohan can't understand exactly what Mori is researching here, he does find himself being pulled in, lured by the idea of understanding what is so interesting about these mouldy books, and so, he occasionally tries to decipher the cryptic notes Mori's bent over. However, the hours draw on and after a time, Gohan starts to become bored and yearns to let his eyes wander.
The room is dim, save for the lamp burning above the research notes. Even the computer is off now, creating an enclosed atmosphere. Everything is still, enough so that Gohan can even hear the light patter of rain outside.
When Mori trails a finger along the lines of one page before bursting over and grabbing another book, Gohan doesn't bother to expect any revelations just yet. This is just how Mori is. It's like the guy lives to study, and yes, sure, Gohan can appreciate studying to a degree, but this amount even puts him off. So many of these dreams have been Gohan just staring at page after page, understanding little, caring less every time. At some points, everything sort of blurs and Gohan usually awakes feeling more tired than he'd felt before going to bed the night before.
Yet, today, something does take his interest. When Mori pulls out a book about the saiyan people, Gohan wants to raise his brows, if only then to kick himself when he remembers stumbling across the same book when first coming to the Estate. Mori had been studying the saiyans. In fact, Gohan knows that the guy stored a lot of notes on them too, having read a few pages about boring genetic so-and-sos until discarding them as well.
But Gohan thinks that there's definitely something more to it now, especially considering that flicker of adrenaline Mori had felt upon reading about the saiyans just this moment. Clearly, the god had been invested in the subject.
Time ticks further and Mori reads on into the early hours of the next day.
And, as if to directly contradict Mori's mundane studies, Gohan continues his usual pattern of training hard and partying harder. Rixas sometimes joins him, but not nearly as much, and when he does, it's not as fun as it used to be. A lot of the time, he'd just watch Gohan as though he expects him just to shatter into a million pieces in front of him, as though Gohan's just that delicate.
"Ehh, this is boring," Rixas had complained one night. "Let's go back home. We can go hiking if you want."
"…Hiking?"
"Yeah, you wanted to see the gorge, right?"
"Yeah, like, years ago."
He's not stupid. Gohan had known exactly what Rixas was trying to do, and still does, that's why he tries to shirk the guy off half of the time now. If he wants to be a downer then Gohan wants no part in it. As often as he's able to, he snakes around the club next door in a bid to lose both him and Roarg, sneaking away with whatever group of friends he's made for the night. Sometimes, he'll go alone, and enjoy his own companionship at some solitary establishment they'd never think to find him in.
Most times, however, they do stumble across him. It's usually late into the night and well after Gohan has managed to consume his own weight in shots, like tonight.
"By the gods," Roarg gets out when she finds him.
"'M fine," Gohan tries to reassure her from the floor.
"What is that around your chin area?" she asks of him. Gohan feels her grapple his chin for a better look, all whilst his head languidly bobs in submission. "What is this dust?"
"'Dunno."
"Did you smoke again? Inhale something?"
He can't think straight. Maybe he did, who knows? Not him. A laugh hiccups out of him.
"When Lord Rixas sees, he'll… Ugh." She clicks her tongue as her fuzzy outlines blurs in and out of focus for him. Next, he feels wetness smudging along his chin and cheek as she wipes. He flinches, cringing.
"Did'ja lick that?"
"What? My finger? That is disgusting. No, sir, I do not lick it."
Gohan doesn't believe her. "Uwah, why's it wet? Get it off."
"It is water from the bottle I brought with me. Look."
"Mmm… Ah? I can't see it."
"That is because you are intoxicated." Fresh water splashes his face. "Please cooperate. W-We need to sober you up before we get you home. Please, stay still."
But Gohan feels like being difficult today. He shrugs away when she tries to swipes her hand under his nose, falling into a messy pile on the floor, giggling. When she goes to drag him up, he doesn't stop himself collapsing onto her, still bright.
"Strong," he chirps as she sets him back against the wall.
"Of course I am strong," she replies, snooty. "Despite current circumstances, I am Lord Rixas' leading captain from his guard. I have not always been on babysitting duty… sir."
"I 'member. You're scary."
Roarg snorts. "To think that you would think me scary… I would have swallowed my sword whole before I would have heard you utter the words, before your disappearance, of course." She twists him back when he turns to look at her. "Now, stay still, you are absolutely covered in this… mystery substance."
"Eh, wait." He leans up. "Roarg…Did we know each other, ya know, before?"
She stops, only for a second. "Yes, of course."
He doesn't know why it surprises him. Roarg is Rixas' closest underling so obviously she and Mori would have at least known one another. So, he has to ask: "Were we friends?"
"No."
"Oh, thas' sad."
"It made no difference."
"You don't think it's sad? I thin' you're pretty nice. I like you."
"Mm."
There's nothing else to be said on the matter apparently. But, her fingers, which had felt like ice only moments ago, now suddenly feel like fire. Gohan lolls to the side as she cleans under his chin, absent in thought, only able to watch as her expression shifts between focus and frustration. There's something compelling about it. Even though he can't see properly through the haze of alcohol, he also can't look away.
Blurring aside, she's… quite pretty.
When he reaches up, she flinches.
"Roarg…?"
Her hands pause. "We were not friends," she apparently needs to cement. "That would be unorthodox. Lord Mori –you- were not interested in friendships and emotional connections, not more than what you had with your brothers."
"…But?"
Roarg doesn't reply, instead wiping the last of the dust away before wiping her hands along her clothes and turning to stand up. As she tries to leave, he pulls her to him. "Tell me," He demands awkwardly, "it's, er, an… an order."
From this close up, he can see a flicker of surprise cross her features. It dies just as quick as he saw it. What she has to say is said plain and simple. "…Sex."
"Ah?"
A cough leaves her. "We would occasionally become… intimate."
He lets go as if burned. "Oh."
"Lord Rixas still remains unaware," she goes on to say, her tone sharper and more anxious than he's ever heard it before. "It would be for the best that it remained that way."
"Oh," he repeats.
"Lord Mori…"
"I won't say any'fin. I won't. No. Bad idea. Very bad idea."
"It stopped long before you went missing, and it did not really mean anything. There had been nothing of any emotional significance whatsoever, I assure you. I… I swear it."
Gohan can't see very well in his current state, but he feels like he can see her in a very different way now. Her voice is hitched, her energy; wobbly, she… she's not a very good liar at all, actually. Back on Earth, he'd not been an amazing reader of people, but over his time here, he's not exactly bad at it now. And to him, Roarg is easier to read than any other person he's yet to come across from the Realm of the Almighty.
"You sure?" he dares.
"Yes, my lord."
He hums, leaning back once again. The world spins and so his eyes close. "Jus' so you know, Roarg, I really do see you as a frien'."
There's a long stretch of silence where neither feel like the need to add anything, it's so long that Gohan feels himself drifting back off into sleep. But before he goes, a hand brushes through his hair, fingers splaying and soft.
"For now," Roarg finally mutters, "I know you are fighting this, sir, but… every day, I see more of him, of the Lord Mori I knew. You try to suppress it with all the drugs and the alcohol and the sex but, he is… still there, growing stronger. Nothing you do will change this."
"I dun' wanna' change back into him," he mumbles, leaning into her touch. "I just want to be me. I wan' my own future."
"The past cannot be changed, sir, but the future lies in your power. Whoever you will be is not to be determined by who you were. You are you, regardless."
He opens his eyes, able to see in full, able to see her entirely, up close –so much closer than she's ever been before. If she were any closer, he could kis- Gohan lowers his head, swallowing.
Sure, those words of hers are pretty, but that's all they are. He knows exactly what kind of future he'll face if he embraces Mori, one that is bleak and empty.
Even Roarg knows this, given by the unsettling way that she's looking at him.
"My lord…"
"Don't… I…" He sighs, pressing himself up. "Let's jus' go before Rixas gets here."
In one of those rarely unguarded moments from her, even Roarg looks disappointed. "Yes, sir."
It's fitting that such a depressing evening is what feeds into such a depressing dream. It doesn't start that way however, instead opening with the familiar scene of Mori equipping the Z Sword and practicing long slashing movements with it. He'd switch between that and then writing his chicken scratch writing down into one of his research books, only occasionally breaking to bask in the views of the estate's garden.
Rixas isn't here today and neither is his sword, which means he might be doing some work for Quell. Mori and Rixas never discuss it, much like how Gohan and Rixas never discuss it. All Gohan knows is that it's messy business and that's all he wants to know.
However, this doesn't mean that Mori is without company. No, another brother turns up –one Gohan's not yet met, only heard about.
"Are you sure you should have that?"
Mori turns and strains a smile. "Famis."
The resemblance to the other brothers is striking. Yet, unlike any of them, Famis has a delicate beauty all his own. If Gohan could compare him to anything, it would be to a porcelain doll. His skin is so very pale, framed by the soft shoulder-length bob of blonde hair, and the fine silks of his robes. His petite structure compliments this. He's much shorter and thinner than any of the others, including Mori, who Gohan had assumed to be the odd one out when compared to Rixas and Quell's muscular forms.
Another thing which marks Famis as different from his brothers is the thing strapped across his face; an eye-patch. Gohan can't help but stare as the shining golden jewel is down a twin.
"That weapon belongs to the Kais," Famis says, mild.
"Oh, it does, doesn't it?"
"You are playing with fire. You should return it back to whence it came."
Mori hums, turning to sheath the sword away. His notebook closes. "What can I help you with today? Come, come sit with me. I'll have my assis-"
Famis does no such thing. His one eyes narrows. "I am not here to socialize, Mori."
"No?"
"No. I have business with you: questions."
Mori cranes his neck, a small smile growing as he survey's Famis' defensive demeanour. "I like questions," he purrs, dark. The tone is quite unlike Mori from what Gohan's seen so far… and Gohan's not sure if he likes it. "What can I do for you today, brother?
The other god is equally as uncomfortable. "No games."
Mori says nothing, instead choosing to stand up himself and make his way along the gravel.
"Was it you who took my relic inventory records from the library? I have asked Quell but he swears not to have taken it."
"How peculiar indeed." Mori tilts his head. "Have you not tried Rixas?"
"Don't be cute."
There's a waspish laugh. "Here I was thinking that the estate library was free to any of us. Should I fancy a book then by rules of the household, I am more than free to take it and so I did. My apologies, Famis. I simply thought you were… done with the book."
Famis doesn't so much as wilt when Mori leans over him, towering by nearly a head. His voice is that of ice. "Mori, if that ledger gets into the hands of the kais-"
"Do you think me so foolish?"
"Not foolish, never foolish," he hisses, "for you saw my simple mistake and took opportunity. You are a shark even in your own home, with your own family."
"So cold," Mori returns, "have I ever turned on any of you before?"
"In due time, for what any other reason would you need my ledger other than to blackmail me with it when you'll most need to?"
Mori's smirk carves deeper into his face as he leans against the brickwork of the building behind. In the pit of his chest, Gohan feels the stirring of self-satisfaction. "And what kind of incriminating information would be in this ledger? Are you… worried? Could it be to do with that branch of magic you were barred from dipping your toes into? Are you using the relics for, hmm, what is it…? That's right, Majin magic."
Famis audibly swallows, the gold sheen in his eye dancing dangerously.
"The kais forbade it or did you happen to forget that? I may not have your understanding of magic but I have no doubt what sort of misdeeds you'll be using pink dragon crystals for. Their magic-growth properties would be perfect for such a dark branch of magical-"
"Be quiet," the other brother breathes, "Quell mustn't know."
"That you're endangering the collective by continuing your ludicrous Majin experiments? No, I'd suppose he wouldn't like that, would he?"
Through gritted teeth, Famis manages; "But you're not going to tell him… are you?"
"Not unless I need to." With that, Mori goes to turn and make his way back to his book and the Z Sword, only to be stopped when Famis unexpectedly grabs a hold of him.
"Then what is it you're after, Mori?" he implores, hair trickling between them as he leans forward. "Do not think I can't see through you, not like those two. I know you, baby brother. I know that surely you want something more than what Quell is currently giving you. What is your end goal?"
"I just want to protect the collective, much like our dearest elder brother. That's all I want."
Famis doesn't believe that and neither does Gohan really. "This isn't the end. I will have that ledger back."
"For a price, perhaps." Mori shrugs his shoulder free and moves to collect the sword and his book. "You say that I am the shark but it is you who plays with such darkness, and for what end?"
"The collective," Famis parodies, turning to return the way he came from. "Much like you, apparently. I'm sure that one of us must be lying –I do wonder which?"
Mori waves a hand high. "Goodbye, brother."
"This is not over."
But, actually, it is, for the world starts spinning and Gohan's thrown through the motion of spiralling colours –it's not something he's new to; it just means the memory is warping, changing channels, much how a television would. When he lands into the viewing space of the new memory, instead of a scene opening up to him, it's blinding blur of lights. They dazzle him. One after the other, flashing in a sequence of nauseating beats as the regularity of them surge and surge until Gohan feels that he's about to break.
There's no sound, no image, nothing except for the colour burning within him. They heat, flaring, running hotter than he could ever imagine until…
Until…
The fire roars. And then it dies.
Somehow, in Gohan's heart –no, in Mori's heart—he knows that something dreadful has happened; Gohan feels him die. Gohan feels it the moment Famis stops breathing.
His brother is dead.
It's as if someone had torn a limb from him, as if he'd been burned alive, as if… as if…
Gohan can't breathe. It hurts and feels so wrong. Why does it feel so wrong?
Famis and Mori clearly hadn't even been close… so why?
What is this pain?!
Gohan wakes, shaking. Sweat pours down him, running thick and fast. His throat feels clogged with tears, his heart burns, nothing can make any of this right.
Gohan can't stop it –it can't stop the tears. One after the other, they lap down his face as he chokes out raw sobs. For so long, nothing has made him feel like this. This isn't natural –this hurts too much for it to be natural.
The collective that voice from the back of his head tells him, the collective was damaged.
When Myra knocks at his door, he doesn't unlock it, doesn't let her in. Instead, he sits and mourns. Gohan mourns the brother who'd hated him.
He's been tempted to bring up Famis more than once, particularly to Rixas, but he can never quite bring himself to do it. Gohan still… can't really get his head around it, around the death, the relationship between Famis and Mori, about Mori's demeanour change…
So the memory festers. The feeling of loss rots within, and Gohan's reminded of some of the more painful losses in his life, like when he'd lost his dad to Cel—
He sighs.
The steel in his hand lowers.
Sometimes, the dreams and real life intermingle more than Gohan would like to acknowledge. During training with Rixas, sometimes he'd just stand there, sword in hand, watching as if waiting for Mori to take control, as if Gohan's still the spectator. Rixas would accuse him of still being drunk and Gohan would stab at him as if to remind him otherwise. A nice slice across the chest always sets Rixas straight.
As much as Rixas can complain about Gohan's self-destructive habits, he can't complain about Gohan's lack of ability and growth. It's like Gohan had been made to do this, as if he'd been born with a sword in his hand. The steel is but just an extension of him in these matches, growing his reach longer, making him able to touch at what he never could before. It takes finesse from him, a skill newly acquired only in the last year. How he's been operating without it for all these years, Gohan has no idea. It has becomes a foundation in so much of his training now; it has been an adopted style that fits him better than any other way of fighting ever had. Mori must have been studying it, hoping to one day become competent.
Still, Gohan can't help but think about his training in ki. Ever since arriving to the Realm of the Almighty, his energy hasn't exactly cooperated with him, and he still suffers strange flukes of spiking from time to time. Mori had been an expert in ki utilization but Gohan has no idea where to start. Rixas' suggestion had been no less useless.
"I told you already. Quell could help you."
"He would never help me," Gohan had replied, feeling rotten about the entire thing. "The guy can't stand me."
There had been a rip of laughter. "If only that were true. You've always been the favourite."
"Maybe he had a soft for Mori –but not for me, not now."
"Well, sweetie, that's my advice. I'd wager that he'd help you –but you know what you've gotta' do to get that help."
"I'm not drinking the elixir. I like being mortal, thank you."
"He could teach you ki manifestation –that's his speciality."
"Pass."
"Then you're not gonna' get much further with that side of your training."
"Quell wouldn't train with Mori before all this. What makes you think he'd train with me now?"
At this, Rixas simply smiled, and had gestured to the long and thin red line drawn into his jumpsuit. Gohan had made the cut hours earlier.
"You weren't able to do this before you became, er, saiyan-Mori. Trust me; something like this'll get his attention. You've gotten strong… er. Stronger."
"Wow," he'd gasped, sarcastic. "Did you just try to compliment my fighting skills? Sounds like it hurt you to do it."
Roarg, quiet until that moment, managed a chuckle, something which had sent strange little waves to Gohan's stomach. The two hadn't much spoken since that night at the bar, leaving the young man all confused on how to proceed with her -especially after she'd made that sort of expression when talking about Mori.
It'd taken one simple slap aback of the head to knock Gohan out of it. "Be quiet, you brat," comes Rixas, none the wiser. "You want praise, you gotta' earn it."
"Brother, you used to be so nice to me."
"Eh! I could say the same!"
It still makes Gohan laugh when he thinks about it. Rixas is so competitive and hyper-focused that it's just like training with his d… someone else. They're so similar sometimes that Gohan can't help but feel the immediate connection with Rixas, as though he's always been there. In some ways, he has –at least for Mori. With Rixas being a good few million years older than Mori, he'd pretty much been an adult when he'd been born.
The two had been friendly according to Mori's memories, but not massively close, something which had surprised the young man somewhat, especially considering that Rixas now sticks to him like glue. Maybe that's just because of Mori –the guy had always been emotionally distant as a person.
Gohan's experienced many a memory with Rixas and Mori. They'd drink together often, usually in quiet bars as opposed to the usual clubs they frequent today. Some memories have them talking, sword-fighting, partying (very rarely –and Gohan suspects Mori had been on the younger side), and upon the occasion, Gohan would experience Mori heading out with Rixas to score a hook-up. It'd be at a nicer place than they visit these days. And annoyingly, Mori had been a lot more suave at it than Gohan. Men or women, whatever Mori wanted, Mori got.
He learns more, oh so much, about the guy as the dreams go on. Mori had been quiet, intelligent, dry but engaging in his own way. There'd been a magical charisma to him –one where people seemed unable to look away, even Gohan can't look away.
As the dreams tumble and roll further and further into obscurity, Gohan's able to start putting together a narrative of who Mori really was, of the life he'd led. So, it's only suitable that, one night, he has a dream that completely wobbles everything he'd preconceived about Mori's relationships (except for Famis), especially with his eldest brother.
"You sent for me?"
Mori, as usual, is dressed in the fine layers of robes Gohan's become very well acquainted with, an outfit which still resides in his wardrobe but proved a bit too fancy for him to try and pull off.
Quell turns, the light of the morning sun blaring from behind. They're in the conservatory, surrounded by more plants than Gohan remembers there being there now. The bright colours of the flowers contrast the mood, of which feels dour and grey. Quell's pallor is equally grey, and Gohan feels a flatness of disposition running throughout Mori.
Without words being said, Gohan knows that this must not be long after Famis' death, and as if to prove the point, Quell's expression tells all. Deep bags carry beneath unusually dull eyes; emphasized by the listless way he skulks across the room to welcome Mori.
"I am relieved to see you. I thought you were still away on research," Quell greets, reaching forward for his brother.
Mori shirks a shoulder away from the touch. "My research in Hell can wait, I suppose. There is no avoiding being needed back at the estate when it is you who summoned me… Take that as you will."
Quell hums. "You're unhappy with me."
"The research was important."
"So is the collective, brother." The elder brother turns and gestures towards a bottle atop the table. "Would you care for wine?"
"Brother, it's ten in the morning."
"That it is. Come. Take a seat with me, yes, that's it. Come, come." The cork flies free and the liquid pours out in long glugs, pausing only momentarily. "Full or half measure?"
Mori stares between Quell and the bottle. "Full, although I recommend only half for you. I'm guessing that this is not your first bottle today."
"I can hold my alcohol just fine, little brother. Don't you worry about me. Here, your glass."
Mori gingerly takes it as Quell continues to over pour his own helping. Now that Mori's mentioned it, Quell doesn't exactly appear as… collected as usual… Is he drunk? Gohan thinks he just might be. Yes, he is –just a bit. There isn't a vast difference and he wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't been brought up.
How… disconcerting.
Mori is equally as cautious. Over the rim of the glass, he watches Quell as he sips. The wine tastes like raspberries; very sweet -too sweet actually. Quell, on the other hand, doesn't mind. He swallows half of his serving in one go.
"What can I be of assistance for then?" Mori finally asks when a bout of silence drags on.
"Dreadful business. I am with bad news," Quell sighs, leaning back, hair bunching forward messily. "I wanted you to know that I have cut ties with several of the other gods, and also with several main branches of the kais."
Mori nearly spits out the wine from the shock. "What? For what reason?"
"Famis is dead and we know not the culprit," Quell says with the lightness of answering a question about the weather. Both Mori and Gohan experience the seeds of discomfort start to grow. "We need to be more cautious than ever. Our power has been weakened –the collective has been hurt beyond repair."
"And isolating ourselves will help? Brother, stepping away like this just decreases our influence-"
"Should you be attacked then you're practically defenceless," Quell interrupts, sharp.
"I am a master of energy utilization," Mori informs, tone rivalling his brother's. "I cannot be bested so simply."
"You are a glass-cannon. When your energy depletes, you are nothing but a husk and, sure, the fire you have burns brightly, but it does not burn for long at all. Rixas at least can defend himself, unlike poor Famis who met his… his demise by who knows what? And what if that happens to you, Mori? I cannot bear to see the collective weakened once again." For a fleeting moment, the mask breaks and Gohan sees how truly haggard the man has become. "They never even found Famis' body, nor his mask."
"I know," Mori whispers. Gohan's thrown by the churning of something in Mori's chest. He can't get a read on what it means, and whilst he knows it has little to do with the feeling of loss for Famis (Mori feels none of this, so it seems), he doesn't want to dwell that it could represent something darker.
"I feel that my power has weakened," Mori continues, "I know that Famis is dead. I need not you to remind me of that, but… we cannot just lower our heads and hide in the shadows. We are of Revelation, or the Almighty –we have nothing to cower from."
Quell stares at Mori for a long while, not even moving to top up his glass. The silence stretches on with neither turning away, only when Mori snorts out a derisive laugh is it broken. Clearly, he understands Quell's unspoken message.
"I see," the younger god breathes, setting his glass down, "You and Rixas have nothing to cower from, but I do. I'm the weak link now that Famis is dead. Tell me; what am I really doing here today, Quell? What do you have to tell me? Are you restricting my movement yet again?"
"The Zealites have-"
"Now you're interested in them? I warned you about the Zealites moons ago but you paid little attention then."
"You are angry."
"Of course I am, for since Famis' demise all you have done is control me more and more –I cannot keep being withheld like this. Just a few months ago, you disallowed me from the Realm of the Kais."
Quell moves to refill his glass now, much of the red spilling and flying everywhere but into the glass. "See sense, Mori, the kais are not to be trusted. Perhaps they were the ones to kill Fam-"
"And if they weren't?"
"We must be cautious!"
"'I must be cautious', you mean!"
"Don't take that tone with me, Mori," the other snaps, "you felt how it was when Famis was killed. Should that happen to you then both Rixas and myself will experience that again, will experience a power loss and most importantly we-"
"So am I to be tied to the estate for the next several millennia until your paranoia runs its course?"
Gohan thinks Quell might just lean over and punch Mori right through the glass walls of the conservatory, but he doesn't. In fact, he does nothing, except sit there and drink, watching as Mori refuses to lilt under the gaze.
Finally, Quell drains this glass too, but instead of placing it back down on the table, he launches it forward. It flies past Mori, spiralling until it smashes against an unfortunate potted plant.
Neither so much as flinch.
"You are to stop leaving the realm for the time being," Quell says, leaving no room for questioning. His tone is final. "There shall be no more escapades for research, no more trips without either Rixas or myself, no more leaving the estate alone. Do I make myself clear?"
Mori's insides feel as cold as ice, but his anger is true.
Eventually, he breathes a single word. "…Crystal."
When Gohan wakes, he's feeling very flat about the entire thing.
Famis' death feels horribly raw once again, as though it's still fresh even though Gohan knows it actually happened thousands of years ago, and even if Mori didn't think much of him, it still… oddly hurts.
He lies there, thinking blankly as he stares at the unfamiliar ceiling of a mystery hotel he must have ended up at after attending a beach party. Whilst Gohan knows that he's not supposed to stay out overnight, it does happen –often, in fact. The irony of the dream isn't lost on Gohan at all. Is this his own way of telling him that he should abide the rules more? Because if it is, it's not a very good way to go about it.
And so, he'll keep doing what he's become well practiced at doing, which is to leave whatever dwelling he's ended up in, make his way back to the estate, and sneak back through his window and into his bed before Myra can come guns blazing in the morning. So he does exactly that, feeling good about himself until the worst finally catches up with him.
It is mere hours later when Myra wakes him, with the morning still not conscious and the sun not having thought about yet appearing.
"You're joking," Gohan says, bland, when she strips the covers from off of him.
"I'm not, my lord," Myra informs, appearing more no-nonsense than usual. "Lord Quell is demanding your presence in his quarters."
The memory of the dream is like a slap in the face. It's an ugly sort of fate, isn't it?
"What? Why's he even here? He's supposed to be travelling in the Ambiglisten Way and not due back unt—wait, did you say that he wants me in his quarters?"
"In his quarters," she certifies, and then again when he looks at her funny. "My heavens, you're still drunk, aren't you?"
"Don't act like you're surprised. Now, turn the light off and let me sleep. I'm not arguing with you whilst it's still dark out."
"Lord Mori, I think Lord Quell's really serious this time," she says, appearing more nervous than neurotic. "I was told to tell you that if you don't go to him, he'll come to you."
A torrent of breath leaves Gohan and he finds himself staring at his bedframe, hard. Did he see me sneak back in?
"Please, my lord, I don't want Lord Quell's assistant to come searching for me again. He already hates me enough." At that, he actually manages to snort into the fabric of his pillow, a sounds which emits a low whine from Myra. "Lord Mooori!"
When he waves a hand, dismissing her, she makes the noise again, louder this time.
"Only dogs can hear that pitch," he complains, covering his ears. "Just go. Tell his assistant that if Lord Quell wants to come here then he's best bringing his own teddy bear."
"I'm not telling him that!"
"Fine, then just go hide in the pantry like you usually do when you don't want to be caught out."
"I do no such thing!"
"Liar," Gohan grumbles into the bedding. "And you hide in my room when I'm not here. Don't think I don't know, Myra."
"What?! N-No, I don't!" Silences passes with Gohan smirking like all his birthdays have come at once, all until; "W-Well, how about I tell Lord Quell about your rendezvous in the East Quadrant several moons ago? How about I tell him exactly what happened when you and Rixas visited with the princess of Planet Gherli?"
In a shot, he swivels, wide-eyed and very much awake. "That is insubordination, Assistant! Th-That is dishonour –rude, it's… it's! I—I don't know what it is but I don't like it! You have no basis!"
"And I'll tell him," she threatens, gaze dark. "If you don't get out of your pit, my lord, I'll make sure that Lord Quell becomes aware of his brother's inability to lay low in a place he's not even supposed to be in the first place. We'll see then if you're so much as allowed out of this very room after that!"
"I did nothing wrong," Gohan snaps, his cheeks burning, not out of embarrassment because that'd be ridiculous. He's got nothing to be embarrassed about. "I don't know where you're getting your incorrect information from, but I- I… I-"
"You're still drunk," she deadpans.
"I—I… I am. Yes, I'm still pretty drunk, yes." His hand claws down his face. "I'm drunk."
"I can see that… Sir, honestly, you really do look dreadful. If you're not going to speak with Doctor Hezk, I think it's about time to call Doctor Ji-"
"Shhh, too loud. My head…"
She stares. "Get up, shower and take some medicine." From out of nowhere, she produces him a freshly-squeezed tomato juice in the most generous-sized glass he's yet seen.
He stares. "God bless you, Myra. I still don't like you, but I appreciate your game all the same."
So, Gohan crawls out of bed and starts to strip for a shower, throwing his nightwear at the nag, and then grabbing himself a handful of painkillers before swallowing them with a mouthful of juice.
"Mouthwash!" She shouts after him as he slams his bathroom door shut.
After the quickest shower of his life, Gohan emerges and dresses in his finest robes. Even sober, he'd still struggle to fasten the fiddly clips and so Myra, liking a doting mother, fastens the thin hooks together with precision to spare.
"You smell like a nightclub," she tells him as she finishes the last one, "he's going to know."
"He knows I drink, Myra." He clicks his tongue when she goes to attach his cape. "There's no crime in getting drunk, is there?"
"No, but let's be realistic, my lord, there's only one reason he's summoned you at this time and that's because he must have caught you in the act of returning home."
"Hm, you think so too, huh?"
"I don't envy you."
Gohan snorts, twisting a lip up into a self-depreciating smile, one which gives away how tired of everything he truly is. "Remember me fondly."
Myra returns the smile, smoothing down the fabric of his shoulders. An affectionate pat on the cheek finishes it off. "Only in my nightmares, sir."
The door creaks open to Quell's never before seen quarters (as Gohan, at least), and whilst Gohan's nervous about the entire thing, he's still rather curious. The estate has been explored to the fullest now, spare Quell's and Famis' respected quarters. Seeing a little into Quell's mystery is oddly alluring, despite the fear.
Suddenly, Gohan stops. He hears voices.
"—have done with it! Tell that blasted Zamasu that I have no interest in whatever pot he is currently stirring. I do not trust him! I've always said that I do not trust him, but the kais are fools," Quell's voice hisses from somewhere in the dimness of shadows. The room is dark, daunting almost. "I want him nowhere near this estate again!"
"Understood, my lord." comes the familiarly snotty tones of Quell's assistant.
"Should you see him but a breath away from this place then you have my permission to deploy Rixas' guard."
"Yes, sir. Is that all?"
"Of course not." There's a slap of papers against a desk. "I want the fifteenth collection of research papers I have been asking for. Have you not been listening or are you just trying to test my patience? I requested them so long ago, yet my desk still remains empty."
"My apologies, sir. I'll have the research papers to you as soon as possible." As Gohan slowly meanders into the room, he can't help his face curdle at the assistant's tone. No wonder Myra hates him; he's just so pompous and awful in every way. Gohan would hide in the pantry from him too. "And here is the latest report on the Zealite sightings. There has been no response from any of the kais on the matter, unfortunately."
"Unsurprising. The whelps will only care when the Zealites slither into their back garden. Just wait and see." There's another smack of papers against wood. "Store the report with the others."
"Yes, sir. Oh, do you still require the certification papers for Planet Yardrat?"
"The proposal was rejected," Quell huffs.
"Then, do you need-"
"I have already appealed to the council to overturn it."
"The waiting time, sir?"
"Months."
"M-Months?!"
"Are you deaf? Months."
"So-"
"So we wait. We… wait," he breathes, sounding more tired and stressed than Gohan's yet heard of Quell. "Yardrat will still lay untouched for the time being, no thanks to the destroyers. Beerus is a pathetic excuse for a god; I'll never understand Whis' fascination with him." There's a sigh, and then; "Mori, you know better than to linger in doorways!"
Gohan jumps in his skin and bumbles his way across the room and closer to Quell. The assistant, a willowy and poised individual, couldn't possibly look any more disgusted.
"Leave us," Quell demands.
The uppity asshole spares Gohan another glance. "Yes, sir."
When the door clicks shut, Quell gestures for him to take a seat on the opposite side of the desk, and so, without question, he sits. A thin breath leaves Gohan as he surveys the area. On the table, right between him and the foreboding figure of Quell, sits a prism-shaped bottle. Its edges are sharp and he can see his own nervous reflection staring back at him from multiple angles, dimly lit in the amber candle light. Quell apparently likes candles. He has lots of them, all positioned around his living area, wedged between plants and books and knick-knacks Gohan would have found interesting once upon a time ago.
His room is unsurprisingly bigger than Gohan's, with lots of windows which overlook the gardens and a pond he hadn't known existed until now. It's barely visible in the darkness, but he can just about make it out, what with the black of foliage surrounding it. It'd be quite the view in the day, he thinks –not that he ever wants to be here to test that out.
In the shades of gold and orange, Gohan watches the flickering outline of Quell consider him from the comfort of an enormous and lavish armchair. His hair isn't tied back at all, instead flowing liberally over his nightwear. The look takes him back to Mori's memories, and he feels torn between discomfort at the casual appearance of the man, and shock at seeing it in the first place. Immediately, the god looks younger, softer.
But one look at those eyes will tell you all that you need to know. Quell of Revelation is not one to be crossed.
Remembering the ferocity of Quell's launching of his wine glass, Gohan swallows a gulp. He has a feeling this will go as equally as smoothly going off of Quell's frustrated demeanour tonight.
"Mori," Quell says levelly, albeit wearily, "do you know what is inside this decanter?"
Gohan's attention drops back down to the bottle on the table once more. An impossibly golden liquid stares back.
Yes, of course he knows what this is.
He swallows and coughs. "I, um, I could guess."
"One sip of this elixir is all it'll take to erase any remnants of your mortal soul," he says, "Don't you wonder why I have never bothered to have it slipped into your food… or your beloved drink?"
The young man presses his lips together, folding his hands together. "That would have been easier for you, right?"
"Yes," Quell admits, "It certainly would have, but I have tried to be… patient and… respectful. However, this mortality business of yours is just so gaudy, brother. It really is wearisome to overlook when you make it so difficult. And as you overheard, I am a busy man. Having my brother in such an incapacitated state does not sit well with me, and I would appreciate not having to agonize over whether he is making an embarrassment of or endangering himself"
Gohan feels his jaw tighten. He doesn't make an emb—
"Of course, you wouldn't think that, not right now. But soon you will, after you take it." Looking under a shadow of lashes, he holds the gaze. "Should I ply it down your throat, or have you decided to see sense? Will you take it of your own free will?"
Gohan swallows and stares at the bottle. He knows it's practically a poison but… it seems innocent enough, beautiful really. As the syrupy contents dazzle, Gohan almost feels transfixed by it. The gold is of the same shade as the one he sees in the mirror every day, of the eyes he hates most.
"It would take but a moment," Quell says lowly, "you could do it, right here, right now..."
The bottle is pushed forward, now a mere few inches away from Gohan. Inside it, glittery bubbles pop one after the other. Pop. Pop. Pop…
God, he feels sick. Last night's liqueur is fizzing in his stomach in retaliation.
"I already said I won't take it," Gohan finally responds, still watching as the bubbles float higher and higher. "I don't want it."
"So you earlier said." Quell leans back in his chair and surveys him, thinly veiled impatience brewing under a strained smile. Gohan very much feels like prey being eyed up. "I had been hoping that you'd perhaps changed your mind."
"N-No." There's a cough. "No."
"Pity. I thought that during your reckless abandonment of morals you might have evolved some of your primitive and childish notions."
What does that even mean? "I'm not taking the elixir," he stresses, "no matter how much you push this."
"So you want to die a second miserable mortal death?"
"And go to Otherworld when the time comes? Yes, I do." That's right, Gohan knows that, despite whatever strange state of affairs his soul is in right now, at least he's applicable to go to Otherworld.
"Otherworld?" Quell repeats, disgusted. "Whatever for? There is nothing there for any of us."
For him, maybe. But for Gohan, it'll be a time where he can rejoice in seeing his family again. Even if he's Mori now, in death, it doesn't matter. Gohan will, at least, have that.
"You wouldn't understand," he replies unkindly.
The god's golden eyes narrow, melding into the intoxicating glow of the candles. The room feels heavy, smouldering almost, thick with layers of heat and tension. "You've been back some years now, lived in this estate, become close with Rixas once more, relived some of your memories… do tell me, because I am confused by all of this, what is with this obsession with mortality, Mori? You're right. I do not understand it. I do not, at all, understand it."
It annoys Gohan as Quell sits there, lounged over his armchair with an expression so icy-hot that Gohan feels like he's about to melt into the floor. He becomes itchy, his breath thins. Quell's pressure is around them, not as prominent as usual, but it's still there and trying its usual best to suffocate him.
"I am mortal," the young man next insists, teeth pressed. The pressure presses down harder.
"Ugh, foul."
"That's what I am!"
Quell looks to have tasted something unpleasant. "How are you still not beyond this fantasy? When are you going to wake up?!"
Heat rushes through Gohan, but he forces himself calm, swallows his word vomit, breathes. "I already told you that it's not happening, Quell. I won't ever take the elixir."
"My patience with all of," he waves a hand in gesture of Gohan, "this, is thinning by the day. Your habits are not only ruining yourself, but also our collective. Tch, honestly…" A finger presses in the direction of the window. "At this rate, you're going to end up in a ditch, lost and dead somewhere on some nowhere planet –do not think I don't know about your escapades, little brother, I do, and whilst I have turned a blind eye to them for some time now, I think we are overdue for me to forcibly realign you."
Gohan doesn't like the sound of that. His chest puffs. "W-What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, you little drunkard, one way or another, I will have you drink this elixir. Mark my words, this parasitic mentally which has taken you shall be thwarted." His voice rises, the pressure swills. "For so long, your true self has remained buried but no longer will I wait –no matter what that quack tells me to do, I won't see you ruin yourself like this any longer, I won't lay idle!
If you do not drink this elixir here right now, I'll force it into your mouth and down you neck, I will have your legs cut from your body if you try and run -I will have you BEG me to take the elixir by the end of it! Do you understand?"
Gohan recoils when Quell leans forward, eyes blood-shot.
"Damn it!" His fist pounds the desk and the entire room vibrates. "Mori, drink the elixir NOW."
Gohan's shaking. He stands and swings for the elixir both at once, achieving only one as Quell retrieves the potion before he can even so much as touch it. He'd wanted to see it smashed, destroyed, broken into many a piece, but instead, he has to settle for Quell's wrath, one born from the daring of Gohan's indolence.
"You fool," Quells growls. "You're a rash little idiot; an imposter unsuited for your form!"
The bottle is tucked away, hidden in a nook of the desk and out of Gohan's reach. As Quell goes to stand, Gohan becomes very tempted to blow up the desk. It'd only take a second and barely any energy at all. He could do it –he could!
"Don't get any ideas, Mori."
"I won't drink it," Gohan spits. "I'd rather die!"
"Oh," he coos, tilting his head with faux intrigue, words pointed with a sickly-sweet poison. "Is that what you want? Do you want to die? That could very well happen at this rate."
"You-" Gohan's words dry up, and he remembers something.
'Quell's watching from the Winter Pavilion. It's only time.'
Slowly, his lips draw together. His heart thumps.
Gohan doesn't know why the note comes to mind at a time like this. Maybe it's to do with how Quell's looking at him, as if ready to swallow him whole, as if he would happily push Gohan into oblivion and be done with it. He remembers the bastard's face when trying to ensnare Mori –the wine glass being launched.
What happened after?
'It's only time.'
On instinct, he takes a step backward, and then another and another. Before he knows it, he is out of the beast's quarters, running past a very confused Myra, running through the hall, running just for the sake of running.
"Mori, return at once! Mori!"
Like an echo, Quell's words follow. "You can't hide!"
So he won't hide, he'll run. And run and run.
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I REALLY didn't want to split the chapter but it's fucking massive. The other half only needs one more scene written and for it to be edited, so I'll make ya deal. Hook me up with triple digit reviews and I'll post it right away ;) (at least 24 hours after this one because FF is shite and would have a shit fit). Another reason I split it is because SO much is actually happening and we need that sense of time between chapters. The next half will be around 10K, which means this was originally gonna' be around 18K/19K and man... that's just a bit too big. I'm not EmeraldSaiyan lmao.
As always, thanks again to Kags for betaing. I was scared to give her the full thing because editing the Broly thing I wrote for my other "series" pretty much killed her (and me). These long pieces of writing and I don't agree with each other, haha. She's an absolute boss. Long chapters really are knackering because my dyslexic ass hates putting correct letters. How she copes, man...
But yeah, I want the content out so I can finally be at Age 780 with Gohan... which is not long away at all. Oh, I should also mention that I changed the dream sequences to italics. I didn't want to do this because I like the worlds not being seperated by format, however, it's gonna' get confusing next chapter if I didn't. Shame, but oh well.
I don't have much to say on the chapter as it's a build up but we're slowly unpacking Mori, having now finally met Famis and understanding their relationship. By next chapter, some answers will come you way.
Alright, I guess that's it from me... I'll catch you on the next one. Thanks so much on favs, folllows and reviews. Please drop me your thoughts on this chapter~