**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello, Leonardo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance
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Chapter Nineteen: The Trial of Air
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With the trials now in the eleventh day, Leonardo thought he was handling everything quite well, all things considered. At least, that was what he was telling himself.
He would never outwardly admit that he was struggling with the unfamiliar sensation of being unable to quantify his feelings, but he was at least making an effort to not be too hard on himself. The last few days had brought about a whirlwind of change, and the truth was he was feeling… overwhelmed.
Throughout his life, he prided himself on his ability to manage his emotions and temper his reactions. He committed a lot of energy to maintaining a certain level of cool detachment because that was what his people needed from him. A leader that could stay calm under pressure. At home, in Aeolus, he required the same from the men loyal to him, as well as his silent network of spies and informants that kept him updated on every move his father made. Leo couldn't be in more than one place at any given time and so they were his eyes and his ears. He trusted them implicitly, as they trusted him. Without them, he would never have been as effective as he was in his efforts to undermine his father.
Which was why it was so discomfiting now to finally admit to himself just how dependent on them he had allowed himself to become. He didn't like uncertainty. He didn't like not knowing what was coming. He didn't like surprises.
Yet, so far, their trials had been nothing but uncertainty and surprises.
Sometimes he wished he could be more like Michelangelo. The prince of earth made an art form out of taking each moment at face value, refusing to waste even an ounce of energy on the worry of what was yet to come. It seemed an easier way to live. But, deep down, he knew that Mikey was free to be that way because Leo did the worrying for all of them. He alone carried the burdens of 'what if…' and that was simply the way it had to be.
The integration of Donatello into their lives made that abundantly clear, if nothing else did. Each echo that Don conjured brought them closer to a terrible truth, and every new revelation only reinforced Leo's conviction that his own family was the problem, Apelles was the problem, and he would face that problem head on, no matter how frightened he was of the outcome.
And make no mistake, he was frightened, though he would never let it show on his face. He would never burden the others with seeing him that way. They needed his strength, and leadership, and guidance. Now more than ever.
He trailed a few steps behind the other three as they made their way further up into the mountains, mulling over his thoughts as he watched them. Mikey was bouncing along in his usual way, plucking wildflowers from the edges of the trail and stringing them together into a chain. Occasionally he would spin up close to Donatello and slide a tiny bloom into the fabric of Don's mask. Now the price of water sported a wild crown, bright with green leaves and fluttering petals of magenta and azure blue.
Raphael grumbled, smirking and swatting at Michelangelo when the earth prince tried to do the same with him. Thankfully the black cloud that had swamped Raph's mind just after his trial was gone, for now at least. The prince of fire plodded along with uncharacteristic serenity, his fingers twined with Donatello's, and Leo was struck by how easy it all seemed. He knew he should be grateful, they had come so far, made so much progress, it was better than any of them could have ever hoped for…
Still… something scratched at the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the stark visage of the spirit of fire, the bone of its skull bleached white, practically glowing as it stared him down with its empty, soulless eyes. From deep in the depths of those black pools Leonardo had heard his father's voice, repeating the argument from the echo they had watched by the river, just after the desert.
"…master of the air… you will address me with the proper respect…" followed by Archus with his quiet disappointment, "…you sound just like your grandfather…"
The words lingered, bouncing around in his head with sharp edges, and Leonardo grimaced as he suddenly recalled a face he wished he could forget. Severo, his great-grandfather, Apelles's grandfather, forever the patriarch of their family even as he turned to dust in his grave. A shadow so dark sometimes Leo feared he would never be free of it.
Severo had been old when Leonardo was born and lived to be older still, finally putting them all out of their misery by dying only days before Leo's twentieth birthday. Leonardo had his coloring, his same pale brown eyes, and he thanked the spirits every single day that the similarities between them ended there.
Severo's life had been defined by an unquenchable thirst for power and a vendetta for the emperor's throne, denied to him by the spirits during his own trials. The crown had gone to Varuna that year, as it had for the two hundred years before that, and Severo responded to that perceived injustice by channeling his rage onto his son, setting unattainable expectations and pushing him into his trials with a fervid, almost manic, intensity. Severo was determined to claim the honor of the emperor's crown, by proxy if he had to, and when his efforts failed, he dismissed his own son as a worthless failure. After that he turned his full attention to his grandson, Apelles.
There were moments when Leonardo felt a flare of pity for his father. Splinter had tried, in his way, to protect Apelles from his grandfather's abuse, but Apelles rebuffed him at every turn. The young prince that would one day be emperor was driven, obsessively so, to earn his grandfather's approval and no one, not Splinter or Archus or Theonis or Kaimon, had ever succeeded in making Apelles see reason when it came to Severo's demands.
It might have been sad, if it wasn't for all the harm Apelles had caused, and a sinking feeling in his gut told Leo that they had yet to learn the worst of his father's sins. Something was looming, of that he was certain, and unless he could come up with a plan to deal with Apelles before they reached the temple, they were all going to pay the price of it.
"Leo? Hey, are you alright?"
Donatello's voice jolted Leo back into the present. He blinked and saw that all three of them were staring at him with varying levels of concern. He had been so lost in thought that he'd stopped walking without even realizing it, and he shook his head to clear the fog from his mind. It wasn't like him to sink so far into his own thoughts that he lost all sense of his surroundings - brooding, Mikey would call it. Like Raphael in a bad mood.
"Of course," he quickly replied, "sorry, I was just… thinking."
It didn't look as if any of them were convinced, and suddenly Leo was sure he was about to be caught in the enveloping warmth of a patented Michelangelo hug, when a dark cloud passed in front of the sun, throwing their path into shadow. He looked up instinctively, shielding his eyes, and the ground suddenly shifted beneath his feet so violently he almost lost his footing, stumbling with the earth below him as it rolled.
"Whoa!" Michelangelo squawked, falling into Raph and Don as they only just managed to keep their feet.
Massive slabs of jagged rock exploded upwards from the ground on either side of the trail, trapping them in a narrow passage that cut off their only escape route in either direction. The deafening rumble of shifting earth drowned out all other sounds.
"Mikey?!" Leo yelled over the din.
"It's not me! I'm not doing it!"
Higher and higher the walls of rock rose around them, curving inward, until a tunnel of suffocating dirt, sand, and splintering rock formed over their heads, sealing itself with a terrifying note of finality as the last sliver of light disappeared.
Leonardo felt a flash of panic, like he had been ripped away from the very fabric of the world, swallowed whole by the black. The sound of his own heartbeat pounded in his ears as the dark pressed against his eyes.
The groaning of the earth stopped, and they were plunged into silence.
"…g-guys…?"
Mikey's voice was small, scared, like he was miles away, but it was enough to center Leo's focus. "I'm here." he croaked out, his shoulders sagging in relief when both Raph and Don added their reassurances. All their voices were muffled in the deepening dark.
Swallowing his fear, Leo reached out with both his arms, searching for them, but he grasped only air. Gritty dust scratched at the back of his throat.
"No one move," Don warned, "…give it a minute."
It was easy enough to say, not so easy in practice, not when all of Leo's primal instincts were screaming at him to flee. But he would not give in to the urge, he was stronger than that. Dashing off into the black would be foolish and would only lead to injury… or worse. He closed his eyes just to feel the weight of his eyelids, letting the familiarity of the motion settle him in the present moment.
"Now what do we do?" Raph ground out; his voice strained.
"Mikey," Leo asked, "can you get us out of here?"
"N-no…" the earth prince whimpered, "it's solid. There's… nothing for me to grab onto… nothing to move…"
"It's alright, Michelangelo," Don murmured, "just breathe."
"Well shit, we can't just…"
The roar of grinding rock cut Raph off before he could finish his sentence. Far ahead of where they stood, down at one end of their makeshift tomb, a small pinprick of light appeared. It grew in size, wider and brighter with each passing second, until the noise finally stopped, and everything went still once more.
The inky black faded into a dim, dark grey and Leo could just see the outlines of their bodies in the gloom. Daylight. The spirits were toying with them, and Leo was all too aware of how powerless they were against their manipulations. He wanted to call them out, fight back, but he knew that kind of impulsiveness would be futile.
"Well, this feels like a fuckin' trap." Raph cursed under his breath.
"I'm sure it is a trap." Don added.
"Come on," Leo ordered with a resolute nod, "it's not ideal, but we can't stay here. Let's go."
If their faces were any indication, the others liked the idea of walking straight into the unknown just about as much as he did, but they went regardless, walking carefully in front of him, tense and alert and ready. The tunnel pressed in around them, eventually narrowing until they were forced to walk single file, stooped over to keep their heads from bumping against the rock. They moved in silence, the only sounds the echoing scrape of their boots on the dirty ground and the occasional huffing of Raph's agitated breath.
The tunnel seemed to stretch on and on, and no matter how many steps they took the light remained far out of their reach. It went on for so long that Leo became convinced this was less a game of the spirit's whims, and more a punishment for some unknown slight they had committed. He supposed they would be finding out soon enough.
Raphael was losing his patience. He was growling low in his chest and beating his fist against the rock at sporadic intervals. "Come on!" he finally yelled, "Get it over with! Let us out or I'll…"
"It's okay, Raph," Don soothed, laying a comforting hand on Raphael's arm.
Then, all at once, the light rushed forward to overtake them and they were stumbling out into the sunlight, blinking and disoriented and gulping down deep breaths of fresh air.
Leo turned to glance back over his shoulder. The tunnel entrance was small and black, the surrounding rock crusted in a thick layer of moss and bramble, as if it had always been there, untouched by time or the spirits machinations. The scent of pine and earth baking in the warm sun filled his lungs.
"See… a trap." Raph murmured through gritted teeth.
"This… can't be right. We can't be here already…" Don said.
Blinking against the glare of the sun, Leo came up behind Donatello… and stopped dead in his tracks.
The Bridge of Ascendency was old, dating back all the way to the first trials. Over a mile in width, it spanned a canyon so deep the bottom could barely be seen, even on a clear day.
As they approached, the beauty of it took Leo by surprise. It was constructed out of ancient stone overlaid with thick wooden boards, and the sides were lined with nets of heavy rope as wide around as their forearms, intricately braided and hardened with dark resin. Weathered by the passage of centuries, it was a beautiful bridge, rustic and aged and sturdier than it looked like it had any right to be…
…but this wasn't where they were supposed to be. They should have still been days away. The bridge was the landmark that was meant to herald their final ascent to the temple. Not far beyond it they would find the road that would take them there.
Struggling to reconcile what he knew he was seeing with where he thought they should be, Leo inched his way to the edge and peered over the side. Far below, the thin, silver ribbon of a river glinted with reflected sunlight.
"We shouldn't be here, Leo," Don said with unease, "you haven't completed your trial yet."
"They moved us," Leo mused, "changed the landscape to bring us here directly. Why would they do that?"
The grinding echo of stone against stone was the answer they received.
At the end of the bridge, where one long stretch of rope was anchored deeply into the ground, the obsidian pillar rose from the earth, rotating slowly as it shifted into position. Beams of light refracted off the cut edges of a perfectly clear diamond. They didn't need to be any closer to read the words carved into the stone beneath it.
~ The Trial of Air ~
"What the heck…" Michelangelo said slowly, his face twisted with a confused frown.
"Impossible." Donatello added, shaking his head. "They can't mean for you to do it here."
Leonardo eyed the pillar warily, just as confused. In the light breeze the creaking of the bridge was an ominous sound. He looked out over the canyon again, trying to make sense of it.
"What do they think you're gonna do?" Mikey asked, a hint of panic in his voice. "I mean, unless you've been holding out on us, Leo, I'm pretty sure you don't know how to fly!"
Instead of a reply, Leo bit the inside of his cheek. The same thought had already occurred to him. On occasion he had been known to lift objects, even people, off the ground with tightly controlled funnels of air, but he needed some sort of supporting surface to sustain the effect. Out in the middle of the canyon it would be impossible, and the only thing between them and the other side, was the bridge, far longer than it was wide, which raised the risk involved with getting everyone across unharmed to uncomfortably dangerous levels.
"Well, standing here staring at it isn't going to give us any answers," Leo finally said, masking his annoyance as best he could. The others were worried enough already, they didn't need to know how unsettled by this he truly was.
He strode purposefully towards the pillar and was only steps from reaching it when the diamond erupted with a blinding white light and lifted itself effortlessly from its notch in the obsidian. Leonardo's eyes widened in shock, he heard Mikey gasp with surprise, then before any of them could move, the gemstone shot up into the sky, vanishing without a trace against the brilliant blue backdrop.
"What the hell is goin' on?! Ya' didn't even touch it." Raphael said forcefully.
Leonardo held his breath, the muscles in his thighs bunching as he readied himself… but nothing changed.
Long seconds passed before he was certain that he didn't feel any different. Don and Mikey had described the way they'd felt during their trials, the rush of power, the way the white film clouding their sight had enhanced their perception. Leo felt none of that, but he did feel a charge in the air, a change in pressure as he took careful, measured breaths.
Somehow, he knew, on a deep and instinctual level, that this was not the beginning of his trial. Something else was about to happen.
High above, wispy clouds suddenly appeared, churning, spiraling tighter and tighter until the white light flashed again and a wrenching cry pierced the air. The sound reverberated all around them, shrill and sharp, as something large plummeted from the sky.
The creature was moving so fast Leo could barely make out the details of its shape. For a heart stopping moment it looked as if it would plunge into the canyon, but suddenly it pulled up, shooting over the bridge in a blurred arc. A powerful gust of air rippled outward as it sped past and Leo planted his feet, spreading his arms to catch the blast, pushing it back to protect the others from being knocked over by the buffeting current.
With another echoing cry the spirit alighted at the far end of the bridge and they were finally able to get a good look at it. Its hindquarters were that of a great jungle cat, spotted and sleek with a whip-like tail that coiled and curled and lashed through the air. The rest of it was the regal countenance of an ancient bird of prey, eyes and beak as black as night, pebbled skin as white as snow, and a wingspan that must have been more than twenty feet on either side. The feathers were iridescent, changing in the shifting light from silver to pearl to perfectly clear and back again. It huffed and pawed at the ground, leaving long gouges in the earth where its razor-like claws dug deep into the soil.
A tense moment passed where they did nothing but stare at each other, until finally it became clear that the creature was not going to make any further movement. It seemed content to hold its position on the far side, blocking their only path forward.
"What now, Leo?" Don asked in a hushed whisper.
What now, indeed? Leonardo stepped forward to the very edge of the bridge with his head held high. The spirit's appearance suggested that perhaps this was to be his trial after all, despite the glaring differences, and the last thing he was going to do was be paralyzed by indecision.
"Spirit," he called out, his voice ringing in the crisp, clear air, "what do you ask of me?"
The beast cocked its head, clicking its ebony beak three-four-five times in rapid succession, then it rose up on its hind legs and released another piercing cry, like the peal of a bell, a mournful sound that reverberated deep in Leo's chest.
He wondered if the spirit was calling out to him, beckoning him forward, and he almost moved toward it. There was an ache deep in his bones that he could feel radiating through him, a connection to the creature that he suddenly, desperately, wanted to see realized.
He only got as far as a single step.
As his foot touched the ancient, weathered wood of the bridge, a great rumbling shook the earth beneath his feet. He grasped the rope railing to steady himself just as an explosion of dirt and rock burst from the cliff wall not that far up the canyon. From deep within the blackness came a chittering cry, and a moment later the spirit of earth emerged into the light of day, its dark carapace sparkling like silica sand. It was much, much smaller than it had been during Michelangelo's trial, almost comically small in comparison as it quickly skittered up to join the spirit of air.
The unexpected presence of this second spirit was jarring enough to make Leonardo pull back to a more defensive position. Behind him Mikey made a gasping noise that was filled with both longing and terror and Leo threw out his arm, signaling the others to stay where they were.
Without warning the spirit of water abruptly appeared from directly under the bridge, where it must have risen from the river far below. It too, was smaller, but still menacing as it coiled its long, lithe body around the entirety of the bridge, slithering along it at a leisurely pace, back to where its companions waited. Then there was another flash of light, red and dark, and a burst of heat that Leo could feel even from as far away as he was, and the spirit of fire blinked into existence standing between the spirits of earth and air. The midnight pools of its gaping eye sockets were unflinchingly locked on Leonardo.
The two groups of four faced off against each other from either ends of the bridge, and suddenly Leonardo was angry. Absolutely incensed. Surely, he was not meant to engage all four spirits at once! There was no precedent for that.
"What is this?!" Leo shouted, his voice steady even as his heart trembled.
The spirits didn't deign to answer, but they did move. Together they shifted, light and air bending around them, obscuring details as the very essence of their forms seemed to shimmer and dissolve. White light, the same as the light that had come from the diamond, bloomed out from points on each of their heads, curling, rolling back and down, until each spirit was fully engulfed. It pulsed as claw and spike and scale and hoof melted away like snow in the sun, their shapes slowly morphing into almost identical forms of pure, blinding light. Barely visible within the shine was the vague shape of a man-like creature, stretched tall and thin, like the swaying branches of a willow tree. They could only just be distinguished by a soft tint of differing colors at the edges of their halos, red and orange and purple and blue.
They were so… alien, otherworldly, as if they came from someplace else, some 'other', a plane of existence that could never be understood by simple mortal minds.
As one, the spirits drifted out over the open expanse of the canyon, slowly moving closer, as if they had all the time in the world to waste.
Michelangelo slid up beside Leo, grasping his arm in a tremulous grip, and the air prince shifted slightly sideways to place himself at a better angle between the prince of earth and the approaching spirits.
Fully tensed, his hands curled into fists, Leonardo watched them come with wide-eyed disbelief. His expectations of this moment had been completely subverted. There would be no trial, no test. He knew that now with a certainty that he could not explain. An entire lifetime of preparation had come down to this day… and for some unfathomable reason the spirits were going to deny him his rightful chance to prove himself worthy.
Perhaps his family truly was cursed.
He wanted to rage against them, demand they explain their reasoning, the words were perched on the tip of his tongue… but at the last moment his training reasserted itself.
These mysterious beings of magic were responsible for making all four of them who they were. Leonardo knew that meant they were nothing more than pawns, pieces in a greater game they could never hope to comprehend, but the stark truth was that each one of them owed every part of themselves to these spirits. Without them and the power bestowed by them, they would not be able to protect their kingdoms and the people that depended on them.
So, rather than lashing out, Leonardo took a breath, and lowered his head respectfully.
"Great spirits," he began, the tone of his voice soft, almost demure, "if I have in any way caused offense, then please allow me to humbly apologize. If I have made an error in my conduct, please tell me, so that I may make amends."
Leo could feel Mikey's gaze boring a hole in the side of his face, but he didn't dare turn his head. He held perfectly still, hoping his plea would be enough as he waited for the spirits to pass judgement.
A low hum filled the air, and when the spirits finally spoke their voices seemed to come from everywhere all at once. From the air, and the earth, and the very marrow in their bones.
"We are puzzled…""We are troubled…"
Leonardo couldn't have explained it if he tried, but somehow, he knew that the first voice had been the spirit of earth and the second the spirit of water. The hum that filled his hearing seemed to rise and fall in waves as they spoke.
"We cannot see…""We wish to see…" The spirits of fire and earth said, almost in unison.
"See what?" Donatello dared to ask.
"We must see the truth of what air has wrought."
For one dreadful instant Leonardo thought the spirit of air was referring to him, then he realized with a heavy sense of foreboding that, no… they meant Apelles. There was a strange sort of pain in that. The small, sad, lonely little boy that he used to be wept for his father and the reckoning that would soon be upon him.
But then, why were they asking as if…
"Surely you must already be aware of what my father has done." Leo said with resignation.
"We do not know… we cannot see…"
The fire spirit's voice rattled with ire as it lifted higher into the air, just by a few inches, but enough to make its form even more imposing.
"What do ya' mean ya' can't see?!" Raphael asked, a challenge in his voice. "Ain't that supposed to be your whole deal?!"
That seemed to agitate the spirits. The air around them rippled, as if they were trembling.
"We cannot see beyond these borders…""We cannot see beyond our scope…"
Both earth and fire shook as the confessions hung, stagnant in the air.
It hadn't seemed all that relevant at the time, but now that Leonardo thought about it, he remembered the conversation they'd had with Raphael the previous night as they were trying to help him overcome the experience of his trial. The fire prince had spoken of the way the spirit had touched his head when it demanded to see into his memories.
Could it really be true that these mystical beings, that they had always been taught were constantly watching every single move they made, were just as limited by distance as the common man? Were they just as blind to events that they were not personally there to witness?
All at once Leonardo was lightheaded with the realization that these spirits, powerful beyond anything the four of them would ever be capable of… were not omnipotent. There were limitations to their reach. He looked up at the spirit of air with sudden understanding.
"You didn't see before… but now, because of the…"
"The echoes." Donatello cut in quietly, looking at Leo with an expression that said he had just come to the same conclusion. "They've been watching the echoes too."
It seemed ridiculous, the idea that the spirits had been spying over their shoulders this entire time and they'd never given the possibility even a single thought… but it really was the only explanation that made any sense.
Leo nodded and turned to address the spirit of his element directly, "You saw the echoes, and now you want to know what my father has been doing since his time here."
It was a statement, not a question.
The air between them thickened, practically vibrating as the spirits' agitation grew.
"Show us…""Show us…""Show us…"
The spirits of earth, air, and fire hissed together as they shot forward, faster than any of them could react, touching Leo, Raph and Mikey directly on the center of their foreheads with three outstretched, spindly limbs.
The pain was instant and unbearable. Leonardo thought his head would crack wide open from the pressure. He thought his knees would buckle out from underneath him. He thought he would disintegrate into dust. His entire life flashed behind his eyes in the space of a single breath. He heard a scream and had no way of knowing who was making the sound. Mikey's hand was clamped like iron where it clutched his arm, Raph was snarling as he fought to keep his feet, and somewhere close, Don stood immobile, blocked from reaching them by the spirit of water.
Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over, and the spirits were wrenching themselves back as if they were the ones in pain.
"Treachery!" The spirit of earth wailed. "Deceit!" The fire spirit raged, spitting spouts of flame that licked up around its hazy form.
"Lies! Lies! LIES!" The spirit of air shrieked, spinning in place as currents of electricity sparked in the space surrounding it. The sky above darkened, shadowed by heavy clouds that churned as they swirled.
Then it was done, the storm subsided, and slowly the air spirit turned to face the spirit of water directly. When it spoke, its voice was low and hollow. "Betrayal..."
The water spirit made no immediate reaction, it simply regarded its companion's outburst with an air of contemplative curiosity. Or perhaps it was resistant disbelief. It was impossible to tell.
After a long moment where the spirits stared at each other, and Leo, Raph, and Mikey all tried to catch their breath, the spirit of water finally raised one of its arms. An orb of perfect water appeared out of nothing, suspended over the end of its outstretched limb. The liquid was so clear it was almost invisible.
It turned and focused all its attention on Donatello. "Show us…"
Leonardo clenched his jaw, the color draining from his face as the spirit held the orb for Donatello to take. Another memory came to him then. Don's whispered words from their conversation in the swamp, not long after that fateful echo.
"…my father mentioned the Bridge of Ascendency. They were miles from here, somewhere in the mountains when... it happened. Whatever it was..."
This was it. This was why the spirits had brought them here prematurely. They had been listening.
This was where it happened.
Donatello swallowed hard, he knew it too, Leo could see it in the grim set of his mouth. He had come here to discover the truth, but now he was hesitating, fear written plainly on his face. His eyes flicked to Raph, and the fire prince moved to stand beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a nod of encouragement.
Apparently, that was all Don needed to see. With his goal finally within reach, he squared his shoulders and reached for the water. Leo took a few steps closer, dragging Mikey with him.
Immediately it was apparent that this wasn't going to be anything like the echoes they had viewed before. Like the last one, the water responded to Don instantly, but instead of the window they were expecting to snap into place above his palm, the orb spread and stretched, growing exponentially, rising higher and wider all around them until they were a part of it, inside of it, encased by the rippling liquid as if they were being physically transported back through time itself.
Darkness descended over them. Heavy fog, oppressive and thick deadened sound and all sense of their immediate surroundings. The only light came from the softly glowing bodies of the spirits, the only sounds the low creaking of the ropes lining the sides of the bridge where they pulled against the barest of wind slicing through the deep canyon. Moisture from the bank of clouds gathered on the frayed fibers, shining dully in what little daylight was able to break through.
It was a dreamscape, muddled and ethereal, where nothing felt real.
The spirits fanned out away from where the four of them were huddled, observing from a distance as the scene coalesced. Through the fog they could see the bridge and in the haze two figures solidified, creeping carefully forward, stepping gingerly over broken planks of slippery wood.
~*~.~*~
"Would it kill you to walk faster?" Apelles grumbled.
Archus slumped, turning only his head to look back over his shoulder, "If I'm in your way you're more than welcome to go ahead…"
"No. Just…" Apelles huffed, annoyed, "just pick up the pace or we'll be here all day. I can't even see Kai and Theo anymore…"
"I don't feel that great…"
"Obviously. You've been like this for days now."
Archus stopped and turned to look at the air prince, a contemplative frown creasing his brow.
Apelles shifted uncomfortably. "What?"
"I don't… I don't know." The water prince croaked, "I just feel so… strange. Ever since we fought, I can't get your voice out of my mind… what you said… what you did…"
The words were said so softly, it was almost as if Archus wasn't consciously aware that he was saying them, his gaze was unfocused, peering at a point just over Apelles's shoulder, like he was seeing something that wasn't there.
"What did you say?"
Archus swayed on his feet, frowning like he was in pain. "…Nothing. Never mind."
"What did you mean by that?" Apelles bristled, anger flashing in his eyes.
"Pell… nothing. I'm tired. I don't want to fight…"
"No. Stop! Are you accusing me of something?"
"Do I have reason to?" Archus spat, something in the growl of Apelles's voice seeming to jolt him back to some level of awareness. He shook his head a little, clearing the haze from his eyes as he scowled.
Apelles opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again as he shook his head. "There it is. All this time, all these years… you still don't trust me."
"I didn't say that…"
"Yes, you did. You… and them…" Apelles leaned to the side, pointing in the direction they had been heading, inferring that Kaimon and Theonis had already disappeared into the fog ahead of them. "It's always me. I'm always the one that did something wrong. I'm always the one that screws up. Every time something happens, I'm the one that gets blamed."
"That's not true and you know it…"
"Don't! Don't you dare. You always do this."
"Do what?" Archus groaned, clearly irritated by the entire exchange.
"Talk to me like I'm a child that needs to be placated. You look down your nose at me like I'm beneath you."
"Pell, please…" Archus moaned, despair straining his voice, "I have a splitting headache… I'm so tired… we are almost there…" he flung an arm back behind him to emphasize the point, "I don't know why you're mad at me, but I can tell that this is important to you, and I want to talk to you about it… but this is not the place to have this conversation. Can we please just get to the temple…"
"Oh yes, by all means, lead the way esteemed Emperor. Let's go get you your damned crown so you can lord it over all of us just how much better you are…"
"Is that what this is about!?" Archus rocked back a step, his eyes clear for the first time since the echo began. "For fucks sake, Apelles! Why do you think I give even a single damn about that?"
"Why wouldn't you?! There is nothing more important…"
"To you!" Archus shrieked, "There is nothing more important to you! And I am so sick and fucking tired of hearing about your inferiority complex all the damned time."
"My inferiority…" Apelles stopped to laugh, rolling his eyes like they'd had this same argument a hundred times before. "You smug bastard…"
Archus was shaking, fisting his hands like he wanted to reach out and wrap his fingers around Apelles's throat. Instead, he closed his eyes, carefully counting his breaths until the tremors in his shoulders stopped. Apelles waited with an unreadable look on his face, and when Archus finally spoke again his voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I do not now, nor have I ever, thought that I was better than you, Apelles."
The prince of air seemed to deflate a little, and a shadow passed over his face that could only be described as sad, "But that is what you are. There's no use denying it. I've never been as good as you… and I never will be…"
"I'm not doing this with you, Pell. Not again. I do not have the energy to deal with your self-deprecation right now."
Apelles stared ahead with an empty look on his face. "That's fine… it's not your problem to deal with… I don't even know why I brought it up. You don't care anymore. You haven't cared for a long time…"
Archus grimaced, curbing his anger, "Do not put words in my mouth."
"You don't know what it's like, Archus!" Apelles snapped, throwing his arms into the air, "you don't have to live under his thumb! You don't have to hear day after day after day just how small you are, how insignificant!"
He scrunched up his face, grabbing the sides of his head with both hands, beating against his ears with closed fists. "Why would he say it if it wasn't true? Day in and day out, over and over again!"
Archus watched the outburst impassively, shaking his head, "We've talked about this, Pell. He's been manipulating you for years…"
The prince of water just sounded so tired. It was heart wrenching.
But Apelles continued as if he hadn't heard, spinning in a small, agitated circle with his eyes cast downward, "… and he's right. Of course, he is. The proof has always been right in front of me, but I was too weak, too naive, to understand. Varuna is so powerful, so righteous in its superiority… something needs to be done… someone must stop them…"
"Those are your grandfather's words!" Archus yelled, darting forward and grasping Apelles by the shoulders, shaking him until he looked up, "Dammit! When are you going to grow up and start thinking for yourself!?"
Pools of tears shined in Apelles's eyes, "I won't go home a failure. My life… will be forfeit…"
Archus looked at him like he'd grown two heads, "What are you talking about?"
The prince of air blinked, his eyes shifting in and out of focus. "I don't know… all I know is that when I'm with you, I lose myself. I can't be who I'm supposed to be. It's just like he said… I'll never realize my full potential if I'm stuck standing in your shadow."
The tears finally fell, big rippling drops that stained his pale face with dark streaks. Archus swiped at them with his thumbs. "Oh, Pell… why didn't you tell me that was how you felt?" he whispered with a pained groan.
"Because you wouldn't have listened! You would have brushed me off, like you always do. None of you ever listen to me. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a stray dog that you keep around because you feel sorry for me…"
"That's not true…, fuck, please believe me… that is not true."
"My family has always been looking in from the outside…"
"But don't you see? This isn't about our families, or our lineages. This is about us, together. It's about what we mean to each other…"
For a second, one drawn out, silent second, it almost seemed as if Archus's words got through. Apelles looked at him like he hung the moon, his expression open and hopeful and desperate. It was obvious just how badly he wanted to believe those words. He sagged in Archus's grip and the water prince graced him with a soft, sad smile…
…but then Apelles went still, and darkness clouded his eyes. His face contorted with a sharp grimace as he twisted out of Archus's hold.
"No… no! You're wrong! You're trying to distract me! I won't fall for it! Not again! We are here for our birthrights! Ascendency is the goal, and you can't help me! That's how it's always been! I have spent all my life learning how to fend for myself and I don't need you. I don't need any of you."
Archus's hands dropped to his sides with a resigned weariness. He sighed, the breath a visible, heavy weight. "Then what do you need?" he asked.
"I need…" Apelles frowned, like he'd never actually considered the answer to that question. "I… I just… I need you to go."
"Go?"
"Yes, go!" Apelles ground out, accentuating each word through clenched teeth. "Stop wasting your time on a nothing like me! Go to the temple, claim your crown and be done with it! Or… go back to Varuna, take a ship across the sea, or… or jump over the side of this fucking bridge for all I care… just… leave me to my misery and go!"
A cold wind from deep down in the canyon burst over the bridge, whipping their mask tails against their faces. Archus swayed on his feet, his eyes sliding closed then halfway open again. He shuddered, as if he was fighting a battle somewhere deep within himself. Then his shoulders slumped, dejected, defeated.
He stood so still, like a statue, with only the slow rise and fall of his chest betraying the fact that he hadn't actually turned to stone. When he finally looked up, his expression was empty, devoid of emotion, except for the tears shining in his eyes.
"All the days of my life… all the days I can remember… there has never been a single moment where your happiness was not of the utmost importance to me. When the world was too much, when the weight of our lives would darken your eyes, I have always been there to lift you up… and hold you close. You are everything to me, whether you want to be or not, and that will never change. I love you, Apelles."
Archus sighed the name like a prayer, smiled a small secret smile…
…then, without even a moment's hesitation, he grabbed the rope railing of the bridge and threw himself over the side.
A hush fell that had nothing to do with the oppressive fog.
Apelles didn't move, his eyes wide as saucers, frozen in shock as he stared at where Archus had disappeared into the swirling mist. He was holding his breath as he waited for the crash, for the sound of a body colliding with the rocks below, but there was nothing… only the whistle of the wind.
When he started to sway from the lack of air he finally, desperately sucked in a ragged, gasping breath. He took a step, then another, then another, until he was leaning against the rail where the prince of water had stood, looking down into the nothing. His knuckles went white where he gripped the rope, his shoulders shook, his entire frame trembling.
Then a long, keening wail erupted from his throat.
He flung himself backward, slammed against the opposite rail, and slid down to sit with his back pressed firmly into the rope webbing. Tears were streaming down his face as he struggled to take even a single breath, something like a sob broke from his throat, and with a low, guttural moan he tipped over and vomited the meager contents of his stomach. The liquid hit the wooden planking with a sickening splash, and he heaved and heaved and heaved until there was nothing left and still it didn't stop. Dry coughs racked his small frame, violently enough that blood appeared on his lips. When nothing but stomach acid burned in his throat, he finally sat up, head tipped back to stare unseeing at the swirling grey above him.
For endless minutes Apelles sat there, still as the death that hung like a veil around him. It looked as if the scene had frozen on this singular moment in time. But still the echo continued.
Eventually he tipped forward, arms propped on his knees, and as they watched, the expression of horror on his face shifted to one of contemplative wonder. The constant flow of tears that still dripped down his cheeks finally stopped as an incredulous smile was slowly curving its way across his face.
Then he gasped, a breath full of discovery… and started to laugh…
He laughed and laughed and laughed, and his eyes glinted, manic, maybe even a little insane. "I told you…" he whispered into the wind, "I told you…"
He laughed and touched his lips with the tips of his fingers as if he was feeling them for the very first time and swirling currents of air disturbed the fog where he sat, twisting and curling and caressing his skin.
Time stretched into the void as his laughter quieted, but the smile didn't fade. Not until concerned voices drifted out of the mist as if from miles away…
Archie? Pell? Where are you?…
Only then did Apelles finally move. He stood, glancing again at where Archus had fallen, and an intense look of clarity twisted his features into something dark and terrifying.
On command, he summoned his tears once more, molded his face into a mask of shock and horror that was all too easy to believe, and stumbled away into the fog, toward the end of the bridge, where the others waited…
~*~.~*~
The echo faded, the water from which it was born sliding away and disappearing just like the phantom wisps of fog. Color rushed back into the world, bearing the sounds of birds in the trees, and the creaking of the ropes, and the soft hum of the spirits as they hovered.
Donatello fell to his knees, eyes glued to the spot where his father had stood. He didn't even blink when Raphael sank to the ground beside him and wrapped him in his arms, holding him, grounding him when he looked like he might fall apart completely.
Michelangelo was softly crying, still clinging desperately to Leo's arm, his face turned away from what they had been forced to witness.
Leonardo himself was too numb to move. A part of him wasn't even surprised. This outcome seemed inevitable after everything they had already learned.
The spirits drifted together, observing the four of them with an air of detachment that was jarringly different from the intense emotion they had already displayed. When Leo looked up, the spirit of air was watching him closely.
"I didn't know," Leo admitted, his voice small and tinged with despair, "I didn't know what he did…" Mikey pressed closer, held him tighter.
The spirit tilted its head like it was about to say something but then thought better of it. It turned and drifted away, toward the far end of the bridge, with the spirits of fire and earth trailing close behind it.
The spirit of water stayed for a moment more, gazing down at Donatello. Leo found himself wishing it had a face so he might have some idea of what it was thinking.
"What happens now?" Raphael asked from down on the ground, where he still cradled Don securely against him.
"We have much to deliberate…" the water spirit answered curtly, "proceed to the temple. All will be made clear in due time…"
It turned to follow the others, leaving the four of them alone at the cliff's edge. The spirits had almost reached the far side of the canyon when Leo suddenly remembered.
"Wait!" he called out, taking a careful step forward so as not to dislodge Mikey where the earth prince was still curled into his shoulder.
As one the spirits turned.
"What of my trial?"
The spirit of air regarded him without a response for so long that it was almost a surprise when it finally offered him a respectful bow.
"You have long since proven your worth, Prince of Air. Your trial is complete."
And with that the spirits disappeared, as if they had never been there to begin with.
~*~.~*~ tmnt ~*~.~*~