Solomon x gn!MC • Word count : 1.9k • angst / comfort
• summary
"Life as a human in the Devildom is not easy for sure and your time to snap finally arrived. You were exhausted and needed some time back with the humans to reconnect to your own kind"
• tags
slight angst with comfort , MC has no implied gender , not proof read , fluff.
• a/n
Heya so yah ,,, I'm back from my cave i guess. . . I still have a Simeon oneshot to recheck before posting it since I wrote it a month ago and I don't remember it well. This one is based off my personal hc that I LOVE GIGGLES - This will be a serie so yeah there will be more parts of this - Hope you enjoy !!
After a tiring day at RAD you were completely done with everything and everyone. There have been many issues with the students and you were completely out after such busy day for the student council. You came back at the HoL late, precisely after dinner. You walked in and found everyone in the living room, waiting for you to come and hang out with them, you were not in the mood to deal with them and their plans so you simply walked upstairs to your room to get ready for a calm and fresh bath to relax yourself.
As you sink your body in the tub the warm water embraced your body relaxing you to the point that your legs were about to give up while still lowering yourself down into the water. As soon as you sat down a sigh of relief escaped your lips: your limbs relaxing and your head resting on the edge of the tub, eyes closing and mind clearing up from the fog of stress developed during the day.
You were just about to fall asleep when a sudden and loud noise snapped you back to the annoying reality. You opened your eyes and looked towards the door where someone was knocking loudly:"What-" Your tone was flat and exhausted as the person behind the door started to talk:"We planned a sleepover to catch up and study together since tomorrow there is the history of Devildom final exam, we'll wait for you in the attic" Leviathan's voice came out casual and slightly nervous before he left, not waiting for your answer as if you had already accepted even before you could open your mouth.
You just sighed exhausted, going back to your bath and just forgetting about it momentarily.
—
Screaming, arguing, throwing pillows and insults all over the room as you all tried to study. You were sitting on Belphie's bed with him and Beel while the others were sitting on the floor, complaining about every little thing that could happen. It was exhausting to say the least. You couldn't even listen to your own thoughts due to the loudness of their voices. Satan was now yelling at Mammon because he kept getting interrupted by the white haired man. Asmo was whining about the time and how he needed his beauty sleep meanwhile Leviathan playing loudly on his phone, taking advantage of Satan's distraction to do anything but study or take notes. The whole chaos overwhelmed you to the point where you finally snapped: You threw your book and notebook on the floor violently, your hands shaking as you dropped your pen and highlighter and without a care nor word you left the room. The brothers stared at you as you left the room, they were all in shock after what you've done — after all they've never seen you snap… you were the pillar of the house, the person that never broke down and always built bridges for everyone to reconnect and get along. Such behaviour from you was something new to them for sure.
Your steps heavy on the wood floor, your heartbeat loud in your ears as it was the only thing you could hear as you made your way to the front door and left — not caring that you were in your sleepwear nor caring about Lucifer who while sitting on the armchair in the living room saw you leave and tried to call your name but getting no answer from you, making him frown in irritation as he tried to follow after you but stopped when you disappeared behind the big doors of the house. You kept on walking, almost as if you were in a trance, until you finally reached your destination: Purgatory Hall.
You didn't think twice, you knocked immediately and the first person who thankfully opened the door at such late hour was exactly who you were looking for: Solomon. You looked up at him and when your eyes met something broke in you. Snapping back to reality you wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him tightly as you buried your head into his chest — almost as if you were trying to just disappear in his arms and forget about everyone. — tears starting to fall from your eyes and getting soaked in his shirt, wetting it, as your whole body started to shake uncontrollably.
At your sudden and tight hug he was taken aback but he didn't think twice before wrapping his arms around you. He could feel the way you were shaking, making him worry even more as he slowly walked in the house, he felt his shirt getting wet by your tears and despite the uncomfortable feeling he ignored it completely and just slowly and gently dragged you with him in his room. You were still clinging to him as more tears fell. He didn't mention anything that was happening to you and simply closed the door behind him and took your chin, gently raising it so he could look at you in the eyes.
When your tears filled eyes met his he didn't look at you with pity nor judgment, just a quiet yet loud understanding that brought you a warm feeling of comfort in your body. His thumb caressing your cheek and wiping your tears as he studied your expression:"Do you wanna talk about it?" He whispered, his words were free from demand, bringing you no pressure as you sniffed and shook your head. You didn't want to talk about it yet. Not here. Not in this overwhelming place that despite the peaceful presence of another human it was still too much:"Can we go to the human world?" Your sudden question caught him off guard, his eyes widened momentarily before he quickly collected himself, thinking about your request:"Well we would need to ask the brothers and Lord Diavolo, not to mention finals ar—" "I mean now. Just like leave and don't ask to anyone..." Your words cut him off and made his body freeze.
What did you just said?
Didn't you love the Devildom? Did something happened? Was this really you? But before he could ask anything you cleared up most of his doubts:"it's just too overwhelming here and I need home for a while, I need to go back to my safe place and just calm down from this never ending chaos—" You started to explain, just the explanation was full of stress and pent up emotions, making him pull you closer and plant a kiss on top of your forehead:"I can take you to that place with the waterfall again if you wish, I must say it is a true beauty during the day but I personally think that the night adds a new layer of unique beauty" He suggested, a soft and gentle smile growing on his lips as he looked down at your tears stained face while you were thinking about his suggestion before nodding and leaning back on him, seeking that specific human warmth that you craved and missed dearly.
And so with a chuckle the both of you found yourself sitting at the feet of the river, owls talking in the background and the crickets chirping as usual. Noises that lacked in the Devildom were all there, bringing a sense of peace in you as you rested your head on Solomon's shoulder:"It's exhausting. The student council, the whining students, the ones that think I am not fit to be part of the council just because I am a human and even the brothers despite hating to admit it. All that chaos, loud noises and arguing. The constant fights that I need to fix when all they did for me was not threaten me on my birthday… i think?" You started to rant, pouring all your feelings out in one go. Solomon's hand rested on your hip, pulling you closer and listening carefully to your vent. When you had finished a heavy silence set between the two of you for a couple of minutes before he finally broke it:"Human week. How does that sound?" His words made you look up at him in confusion and slight irritation. You opened your heart fully to him and he was talking about some kind of 'Human Week' bullshit?
But before you could complain or give voice to your assumption his next words made you rethink:"Things down there are hard and big, way bigger and more overwhelming than here. So how about a Human Week when we disappear here together and just recharge? It does sound like you need it badly right now so why not make it a thing so we could do it more often" His words made your heart beat faster, making your cheeks flush as you looked back down at the river water, but this time a small smile was tugging at your lips before a chuckle escaped:"Well, I am not against it but we really need to find a better name for it" Your words made him smirk, pulling you even closer and planting a kiss on your forehead:"I would gladly stay up to think of a name but it's getting quite late now, how about a cast a spell and we sleep here in the forest?" He suggested as he casts the spell, creating an almost invisible barrier around the two of you. You looked up at the magic protecting you two when he suddenly casts another one, creating with magic a soft surface to recreate a mattress underneath the two of you.
After that his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down on top of his chest as he planted another kiss in top of your head:"Wanna cuddle while gazing at the stars? Or do you wanna do something else?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly and trying to flirt. Trying and managing to make you laugh softly:"Idiot" You mumbled and got comfortable while laying your head on his chest, looking up at the sky you kept your hands on his torso:"Stars really are pretty from the Human world" You commented, receiving a hum in agreement from the sorcerer under you:"Well you're the best star among all realms" His cheesy line made you cringe, you threw him a dirty look but as soon as you saw his smug face you couldn't help but burst out laughing:"The strongest sorcerer in human kind's best line to flirt is a cheesy line coming from rom coms? Weren't the 200 and more years of your life enough to at least come up with something more original than that?" You laughed, teasing him nonstop and tracing his chest with your index finger.
Him in response simply smiled, a more genuine and gentle one:"Well, I've never been in love until you came into my life so I've never spent my time wondering what lines to use… I didn't even think I would ever love someone like I do with you" His sudden confession made you freeze completely, your finger stopped mid motion as you looked away, resting completely your head down on his chest, hearing his heartbeat go faster and louder, trying desperately to hide your red cheeks:"Okay well I guess it's okay then…" You mumbled before his fingers started to run thru your hair and he teased:"Awww are you blushing??" He chuckled when you protested, denying it and hiding your face from him. His soft smile grew even more as you two kept joking around until you eventually fell asleep.
Maybe this whole Human time idea wasn't so bad after all…
• a/n
WELL DAMN finally wrote smth cuz tbh i've been on genshin and youtube all day these weeks NFKJFKJAKJNAFNJK also i cut my hair and I hate them SO BAD I'M NOT EVEN JOKING I MIGHT CRY-
Interactions with this post are more than welcome and very appreciated !! They help a lot with my motivation to post so if you liked the work feel free to interact <3 -byebye
you’ve noticed it’s much quieter without the brothers around.
no static of the classical jazz playing from lucifer’s vintage turntable as he drags his pen onto the last stack of paperwork from the day. you’d stop him from pouring his third glass of red wine. “lucifer, you know you have to rest eventually”
no levi lingering by his bedroom door frame to ask for ‘just one more quick game’ before bed, you’d always pick up the controller up once more until lucifer yelled at you both to get to bed or he’d confiscate levi’s consoles.
no asmo to lead you to sit at his vanity as he blow drys your hair from the shower, he would always put his most expensive hair oil that smelled like roses in after. “it just makes your hair so soft and shiny mc!”
no smell of the pages satans slender fingers turn as he reads lines of his newest book of the week. in this one the main character has a cat as a side kick which of course peaked his attention. he’d be too engrossed to notice you nodding off on the library couch next to him.
no beel to follow down the staircase at three am for a “midnight snack”. you’d grab the back of his shirt as he navigates, he’d always forget humans can’t see that well in the dark. once in the kitchen he’d always make sure to grab your favorite cookies to share once back in the twin’s room.
no belphagor begging for ‘just five more minutes’ of laying on the bench outside. he always had to show you all his brother’s stars before bed, and of course your star too. “no mc it’s more to the left, look” he’d grab your hand and help you point in the direction of the star dedicated to you.
but the biggest absence you feel is mammons. he’d already be laying in your bed before you even got into your room. you’d walk in, unsurprised, seeing him sprawled out on your (now wrinkled) bedsheets in his grey sweatpants and white tank top. you said he looked cute in it once and now it’s all he ever wears to bed. “come on mc, i’ve been waitin’ for ages now” he’d whine at you. you’d remind yourself he’s the avatar of greed, of course he’d want all your time. you’d laugh as he’d wrap his arms around your torso bringing you into his embrace. “now ya gotta cuddle me extra to make up for it”
there was never really a night you didn’t sleep next to mammon. even if you happened to fall asleep somewhere around the mansion while hanging out with the other brothers, mammon would always find you. even if he had to haul you on his back, dead asleep, to your own bed. he was always going to make sure you’d wake up to him, no one else. his eyes being the first ones you looked into every morning. his lips being the first to kiss you goodmorning. he wanted it all.
solomon hums unbeknownst to himself as he dries the freshly washed dishes you hand him. he notices you are quiet, your eyes having a far away look as you stare into the sink. he decides to let it be. he knows you must be thinking about the brothers. a part of him, the jealous part, wishes you’d just look at him. it’s just you and him now, the brothers had you then, he has you now. but the other part, the rational part, understands how much pain you must be hiding. your whole world was ripped from you, again. first the human world, now the devildom. he wondered which one you spoke of as home now. finding you in the timeline was difficult for solomon, but nothing is ever too difficult for him if it means saving you. he knew he would get to you, bringing you back to the present was unfortunately another story. he’d never forget the way your face lit up when you noticed he arrived. selfishly, he never wanted to find a way to bring you back. but seeing how deflated you’ve become, he’s been reading through grimoire after grimoire. he wants to be the one deserving of your joy after he reveals he came bring you both back….back to the brothers. solomon shakes his head slightly to rid the thought. living alone with you has brought out his possessive side, he knew he needed to calm himself.
“looks like the dishes are all done, ready for bed mc?” he says softly. you jump slightly, brought back to reality after reminiscing about the brothers. about mammon.
“yea, im just going to make some tea real quick, would you like any sol?” you grab a mug out of the cupboard and look at him.
his eyes soften at the nickname and he smiles “i’d love that, i’ll meet you in bed.” you watch as he makes his way down the hall and into your shared room.
the cottage you two have been staying at since everything happened was small, much much smaller than the brothers living quarters, but not small enough you and solomon needed to share a room. at solomon’s request, originally you both slept separately in your own rooms, his just across the hall from yours. that was until the nightmares. every night he’d run into your room after hearing your scream. when the first occurrence happened he did everything but fall out of bed to get to you, thinking the worst was happening. swinging the door to your bedroom open to see you thrashing on your mattress. he was immediately by your side whispering incantations to wake you up, your eyes opening as you frantically look for something, he wasn’t sure what.
“mc, it’s me, solomon. what’s wrong? what’s happened?” he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand moving the hair messed up from sleep out of ur face. you look so terrified, it’s beautiful in a way to him. solomon being the only one allowed to comfort you in this vulnerable moment.
“…solomon? oh. i’m..not sure. just a bad dream.” you swallow. “i can’t sleep anymore, i just can’t…i want to go home” your voice is a whisper in the dark. he can hear you choking on your words. you can’t meet his eyes. he worries what your nightmare could’ve been about as he watched your fingers pick at the lint of the mattress.
“i’ll get you some water, just stay rig-“ your hand grabs the front of his shirt before he even has the chance to move.
“please don’t leave me”
your voice is so pitiful you could’ve asked him to grab the moon from the sky and he would find a way to make it happen. your eyes meet his and he can make out the shininess of tears on your cheek. his hand gently glides to your face and wipes the evidence of your nightmare away.
“i wouldn’t dream of it” he’d never leave you. even if you asked. he’d always be around, he swore it to himself when he took you on as his apprentice.
you asked solomon to start sleeping in the bed with you after a week of reoccurring nightmares. you still haven’t told him about the haunting images of the brothers that plague your mind when trying to sleep. you’d wake up screaming for them sometimes, especially for mammon, solomon pretends not to hear you calling out for the men that aren’t him, but still comforts you nonetheless. holding you in his arms until the shaking and tears subside. he’s never seen his brave apprentice so timid. the nightmares have gone down since solomon has started sharing your bed, but your body still feels like it’s unconsciously searching for something, or someone, in your sleep.
the teapot starts whistling and you pour the tea into two mugs, steam and an aroma of lavender filling the air. solomon came back with an assortment of herbs the day after your first nightmare. “it’ll help you sleep better” was all he said, you’ve been drinking it every night since. he wasn’t wrong, he hardly is. you wish you could get yourself together, for him. you hate the worried looks he gives you, always speaking softly as if the noise itself would shatter you. you’ve never seen the sly sorcerer this gentle with anyone before, his cards usually held close to his chest, he’s let you in. you are grateful for him, not knowing if you’d even be here without him. you want to show him how much he means to him, but the thought of mammon always crosses your mind before you have the chance.
solomon is nose deep in his grimore when you walk into the room with the two mugs in your hand. he’s muttering under his breath as his eyes scan over the text, you can feel the aura of some type of magic radiating from his body. you know what he’s researching, everyday you hope he finds the answers he’s searching for. he finally looks up and smiles at you as you set the tea down on the desk in front of him. it’s littered with scribbles of notes and spells. one notes stand out, neatly placed on the corner of the desk, the note you wrote to him when you went to get breakfast before he woke one morning. you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his trouble of finding you. you didn’t know he even kept it. “thank you mc, you are very sweet to make me some nightly tea”.
“anything for my favorite mentor” you smirk back at him
“wait, you have other mentors? i thought i was your only one!” he jokingly grabs his chest in fake heartbreak, making you giggle. his heart beating a little harder, proud of the fact he can still make you laugh in times like these.
“nah, you know you’re my one and only” you say as you get under the covers of the bed. solomon blushes slightly and takes a sip of his tea. it’s warm and flavorful, the powerful herbs starting to take effect as he joins you under the blankets. he flick his hand using magic to turn the lamp on the desk off. he relishes in these moments. your soft skin brushing against his, your soft breaths as you start to drift off. he wishes he could just freeze time, stay in these sweet moments forever.
“goodnight mc, sweet dreams” he extends his arm out so you can cuddle up to him. you lay your head on his chest and he uses his free hand to play with your hair. you pull the blankets up to your chin for warmth, solomon’s skin always feeling icy to the touch. you’re used to a different, warm body but you try not to think about that now. you listen to his heart beat as you close your eyes. this has become routine for you two, even though for you something about the arrangement feels out of place.
“goodnight solomon” you breathe out
he kisses the top of your head as lightly as he can as you drift off. “i love you, mc” he whispers quietly enough for only him to hear.
he doesn’t want to take advantage of the situation or your fragile state of mind, but oh he so does.
~
you dream of mammon. you rarely dream of anything else.
sometimes its something simple and sweet, walking hand and hand around RAD, mammon trying to convince you to skip with him because “i just know of this ice cream place you’d love, plus it’s right next to the casino so it’s, ya know, a win win!” you’d slap his arm playfully and laugh, reminding him of how just last week lucifer caught you both ditching class to watch a movie in his car. mammons punishment was way worse than yours as usual, but to him it was worth it. anything was worth it to be alone with you.
sometimes the dreams were closer to nightmares, like tonight’s was. you were back in the devildom, your devildom. the was only one demon you wanted to see. you race through the streets that you’ve walked with all the brothers countless times. passing shops and restaurants you’ve shared memorable moments in. you make you ways to the doors of the house of lamentation, you don’t even knock as you burst through the door. why would you? this is your home too, all the brothers adamantly told you plenty of times, always doing everything in their power to stop you from ever leaving. you waste no time as you only have one destination in mind, making your way down the hallway and turning the corner near the kitchen to where your room was. you fling open the door waiting to see the familiar scene of mammon occupying some sort of space in your room. your eyes searching for his mischievous smirk, only to find nothing but piles of boxes and dusty cobwebs. your heart drops. there’s no way they got rid of your stuff, right? no…they must’ve moved it. they would never just act like you never existed, the brothers loved you too much.
you decide the best option next to was to go to mammons room. he was in your room so much satan once joked he might as well move in and let him have mammons room as an extra library. mammon made you sleep in his room every few nights after that comment. mammon must’ve boxed up all your favorite things and brought it to his room. that had to be it. your thoughts running around you mind.
you make your way up the stairs and down the hallway where most of the brothers rooms reside. the other brothers don’t even cross your mind in the moment, you are only looking for your first man. you pass satans door and stop in your tracks at the door directly to the right. you don’t know why you hesitate. you’ve walked through this doorway more times than you can count, you’ve never been nervous before now. all you want in the world is mammon. you slowly turn the gold in-crested handle and push open the door. it creaks open as the scent of car tires and mammons favorite cologne (that you picked out) fills your nose. the pool table sits in its regular spot with a brown leather jacket thrown on top. you almost cry at the sight of it all. but time feels like it freezes when you step more into the room and catch glimpse of golden blue eyes.
“mammon.” you say as more of an exhale, feeling like all the oxygen in your lungs has been sucked out.
he just stands there, a shocked but almost confused look on his face. you figure you must look the same way to him, but you can’t bare another second of it and start walking towards him.
he takes a step back.
what?
you trip over your feet as you notice him backing away. “mammon, what’s wrong. it’s me…mc…i’m back.” he must be in denial, but you can’t say his reaction doesn’t make your insides twist. the silence from him is deafening. “please, just say something mammon.” your voice breaking as something feels terribly wrong.
“i’m sorry, but, who the hell are ya?” he finally gets the words out, absolute perplexity taking over his face. “are ya lost or somethin’? ya know it’s not safe for your kind around here.”
you feel the ground start the spin. not again. not again. not again. he doesn’t remember you. all you want is mammon. your mammon. and once again you’ve been forgotten. your legs buckle as you hit the floor and you start to feel nauseous. the world starts to darken until you can’t see anything, you start to scream for mammon. you just want mammon to save you. just mammon.
“mc? mc wake up!” you feel yourself gaining consciousness slowly. the world feeling real once again. your room is dark as you look up to the figure above you cradling your face. your eyes squint, trying to make out his face but then you notice the moonlight from the window shining a glinting light on his white hair.
“mammon” you mutter quietly with a smile and reach to touch his face. it must’ve all been a bad dream. mammon was always here all along.
you feel the figure about you tense up and as your eyes start to adjust you realize you are looking into dark grey eyes.
solomon’s eyes.
your heart sinks as you remember where you are. not in the house of lamentation. not in your room. not with the brothers. you are in the cottage. in the past. with solomon. only solomon.
solomon silently backs up from leaning over you and gets out of the bed. he feels your disappointment that he’s not the one you thought he was. he knows no matter what he does, you’ll always crave mammon more. the invisible tension fills the room.
“solomon, im sor-“
“don’t worry about it. i’m going to get some water” he cuts you off and is out the room before you can rebuttal. you know it hurt him, but it tries to play it off, sparing your feelings.
solomon walks into the kitchen where he pours himself a glass of whiskey instead of the water he spoke of. might as well try and forget being called the wrong name by the person he loves. he always dreamed of getting mc away from the brothers and having them just to himself. he never guessed it would feel this brutal, the constant reminder he’s not the one they want. his heart aching. why can’t they just be happy with him.
“maybe i should dye my hair” he jokes to himself as he finishes off the glass of whiskey.
[ tw major character death.. grief.. , solomon is full of love therefore he is full of grief , my first proper angst WOOOOO ]
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It's strange, really. Many had put in more effort into capturing his affection. Given his power and position in between the three realms, he understands. After all, this isn't his first romantic relationship: There were bound to be a few he gained feelings for within the countless marriages and concubines he had back in the day.
But all it took was you placing your lips on the tips of his digits, softly, tenderly, like you truly like him for him and not the benefits that come from being with him, and his chest squeezes. He helplessly stares in awe as you lift his other wrist and shower the fingers the same action. Something warm crawls from your mouth and seeps into his skin, nestling its way into his chest and making a place there, all light and floaty.
Your gaze meets his then, answered with a quirk of his eyebrow before you giggle and lean closer. Hands slowly trailing up his biceps, his solid shoulders, then until his face fits into the shape of your palms. The sorcerer breathes out a sigh, eyes closing with no resistance. A soft sensation lands on his right cheek. It stays for a while. Next on his left one. Oh, this pattern. Another to his forehead. Solomon feels the corners of his lips twitch in anticipation of what comes next.
He memorizes. Those lips that are slightly chapped; you're always so busy taking care of others you forget to hydrate yourself. How they fit and feel just right against his. Like you two were meant to be. Like he waited this many centuries just for you to exist. Like it's alright that everyone doubts him so long if he gets to meet you anyway.
He waits.
He waits.
Peeking an eye open, Solomon is ready with a teasing remark on his tongue only to be met with the four walls of his room.
It's strange, really.
He blinks, only then being aware of how blurry his vision has gotten when he feels fat blobs sliding down his face. The palms cradling his face now feels oddly too familiar. Like your hands, the back of his mind says.
It's strange, really.
He knows you love him. He knows he loves you. He also knows he will love you longer.
a little yap. i purposely use present tense for 'he knows you love him' part cause.. idk. i feel our love even if shorter can last him a lifetime just because of how much it means to him because he loves us so so much ok bye.
WARNINGS: (I DO NOT write detailed gore) Death, witch hunts, indications of hurting people in cruel ways, burning of people (vague descriptions), bodies of the deceased, harsh injuries, mentions of blood
A/N: I participated in the 2024 Obey Me! Holiday Exchange held by @obeymeholidayexchange. This fic is a holiday gift for @rou2464 and contains spoilers for Obey Me! Nightbringer lesson 14-14 regarding Solomon’s backstory as it is pretty much my spin on his lore. It’s also a little long, around 9658 words.
Do what you will with this warning and I hope y’all enjoy it. Also, this fic is entirely fictional and does not represent my / any beliefs. Comments, likes and re-blogs are highly appreciated!
Immortality is not the blessing that the people make it out to be.
People often wish for what they do not have, and endlessly yearn for the impossible in hopes that they would be the unique, favoured exception to the rules binding each and every soul. Take the social hierarchy as an example. There is one, or a group, at the very apex. ‘The royals’ is what those below refer to them as. Then we have the nobles, and even they are split into levels depending on how prominent their families are. The commoners, making up the majority of the population, are bound to respect and obey the commands of those at the top. That is the general rule. They could very well have lived their entire lives, content with the peace and the ease of not having more lives than they could count on their shoulders.
But it is in the human nature to want more. To be greedy. To lay their eyes on what they do not currently have. And to seize it at the next opportunity that presents itself.
Just give it some thought. How many times in human history has the hierarchy been rearranged? How many rulers have been overthrown only to have the lesser of the two evils rise up the ranks? How many times had this have to repeat for the mortals to truly be content, from the bottom of their hearts no less?
Undeniably, quite a few have been out of necessity. But can one truly say that it was purely for the people’s sake that the victors took over the throne as the next rulers? To be in a position of near absolute power? To enjoy the view of having so many others below them? Of course not. After all, there will be a part of them that wanted to stand above all. And more often than not, they realise that with every pro comes a con.
Immortality is no different. Those who long for it only saw the rainbows and sunshine, but never the storm that has to be experienced. No matter how hard the mortals try, the scales are fair and must be balanced. It is simply foolish to try and escape the law of the universe, the one that demands balance and equivalence.
Just like how after the warmth comes the cold, and how the snow has arrived after the sun earlier this year. Blanketing the soil, it aims to cover all that the warmth had touched, be it living or non-living. To hold them in its chilling embrace and hope that it is just as desired as the heat, despite knowing otherwise. It can see how the mortals hid away in their cozy little abodes, huddling to keep out the cold, so imagine its surprise when it saw that one exception making a snow angel.
There, amongst the sea of white, laid an equally colourless figure, his vibrancy long bleached by the merciless tides of time. It left nothing behind but a blank slate, just as it was when it was first brought into the mortal world. He finds it ironic, that humans start out as pure white sheets of paper that are eventually coloured with memories. But what most tend to forget is that as the colours gradually overlapped and blended, white is all that forms. The longer the life, the more the memories, the emptier the canvas. Such was the cycle of life, a loop as complete as ever. Life is born from dust, and to dust it will return. How you start out is how you end up. He would know this better than anyone else; time, despite having stopped for him, still flows for those around him after all.
Those with lifespans often wish for an extension, be it limited or unlimited, for the fulfilment of their wishes. They wish to make up for the regrets staining their life, or to further fuel their procrastination. There is a plethora of reasons, and those making (clearly unbalanced) deals just to attain it are a dime a dozen. What remains the same though, is the fact that when they’ve truly attained it, the scales are there, waiting for them. The now immortal will then finally realise how heavy the weights they have to place on the other end are. That in order to gain all of life, they have to sacrifice everything in life. Their family, friends, freedom, choice.
Nevertheless, if he had a penny for every time a person begged him to reveal the secret to immortality, he would have been wealthy enough to buy the world at least five times over. Now now, Solomon is by no means an open-book. He’s learnt through the hard way in his younger, human days that displaying yourself for all to see is a fatal mistake. However, word will always spread, at an alarming speed no less. It would surprise you just how much sorcerers, even high-ranking ones, love to gossip. It was only due to the elusiveness of the Sorcerers’ Society that the man was not burnt at the stake by the commoners, though he did have to move quite a bit from how frequently those in power sought him out, attempting to pry the secret from his lips with vast amounts of gold and subsequently threats of exposure when he declined.
Now that he thought about it, he was indeed lucky to have loving parents, caring enough to not discard him the moment they found out about his innate powers. Loving enough to risk their lives for him. You see, back in the times where magic was seen as anything but pure and holy, being ostracised for even being related to such a heretic was the best fate one could have. It was thus not uncommon to see many of his kind huddling together for safety and comfort in cages, and put on display like circus animals. It would not be long till they were then given anything but a merciful end, though in his opinion it was better than them being subjected to decades of servitude.
So, imagine the fear engulfing his parents when they stepped foot into a room with various floating objects and a giggling child entertaining himself. Old enough to know that magic is uncommon, but young enough to deem it mesmerising and beautiful. And as a child would, he pouted when a pair of hands grasped his, causing his fun to stop and thumps to echo throughout the house. With a swoosh, the curtains were drawn.
“Sol, my sweet child, never do that again."
His questioning gaze only served to increase the panic in their eyes, but the terror lacing her words was enough for him to dazedly nod. A sigh of relief was released from pursed lips and the woman rose to help her husband to check on the furniture their child had levitated for damage. He would then overhear his parents reassuring the concerned neighbours of his family’s safety the next day, not knowing that it was the last he would ever enjoy of his freedom.
News soon spread around that Solomon was down with a rather serious illness, one that was contagious. The people spoke in hushed whispers about how much of a pity it was for such a bright and adorable child to have been inflicted with such a disease and how his parents must have been devastated to see their son end up like that. But Solomon’s parents knew that time fades all. Eventually, the town will forget about the boy with the beautiful sky-blue eyes and Solomon will get to live. Thus, the couple turned away the visitors, as concerned and genuine as they were, thanking them for their well wishes and praying that they had let nothing slip.
Solomon, on the other hand, had not taken much of a liking to his new room. Sure, the basement had been cleaned and transformed into his new room, but it was dark. His only natural light source was the light streaming in through latticed windows, which somewhat lit his room. All that were left now were but a basement, spacious but empty. Devoid of life, laughter, smiles. He missed his large glass windows, how illuminated his room was and the life outside. He yearned for the day him and his parents would be able to sit at the dinner table once more, chatting and giggling at the stories his father would share about his work. But it seems that day would never come.
His parents, sensing their child’s disappointment, were no less heartbroken. They tried to make up to him, moving their dinner nights to his room, spending as much time as they could with him. However, there was only so much they could do, and it was not before long until Solomon turned to magic for entertainment once more. After all, if there was one good thing that came out of this, it would be the extra space he got and the lack of prying eyes. He supposes that in a way, he had traded one freedom for another; childhood for magic. And maybe, just maybe, he would not have it any other way.
His inner child begged to differ, though he chose to turn a blind eye in denial.
Despite his parents’ worries, they decided to let him be. They may be terrified about potential discovery, but they would rather he be strong enough to break free from future hunters or even captors. Hence, in a silent promise, the two took to covering for their son while he slowly mastered his powers. It comforted them just how quickly he learnt and Solomon was happy to spend time with the two things he loved. He, too, slowly understood the reason why he was confined to the basement, never to see the light of day again, and hated it. So, he vowed to become stronger, to prove that magic could be used for good and to dispel the people’s fear.
Just as Solomon had mentally prepared for his ‘eternal solitude’, a pair of feet popped up near his window. He knew that children tended to approach the woods across his window and had completely forgotten that humans, just like all life, were naturally drawn to the light. The subtle flashes of light coming from his window might as well have been from a disco party if his times had that, so in hindsight he honestly should not have been surprised that they were guided here.
How had he never noticed the light from his spells was a problem to solve later, for he had a visitor and it was not a welcome one. The piercing shriek they let out upon discovering a pair of curious blue eyes staring back at them from a basement was sure to draw unwanted attention, so Solomon clambered back down and laid on his bed.
Readying a banishing spell in the hand hidden in his blankets, he coughed a few times, hoping to pass off as sickly and frail. The new face then tilted their head curiously and tapped at his windows, “Who are you? Are you the child with the serious illness?”
“Serious… yes I am–” Solomon cut himself off, feigning a cough to hide the fact that he nearly forgot the story his parents made up for him. He sheepishly turned his head away, not willing to face them, but that only made them even more concerned.
“Man… it is that serious?” The other child had murmured, bright eyes filling with pity, “You should be out here playing with me an’ the others, not stuck in a dark room all day.” “Wish I could, but I can’t. It is contagious.” Relaxing only slightly, he eyed them warily. There was no way he was trusting this random stranger who had popped up, and he would never risk his family’s life. He needed to scare them off, and what better than the threat of contamination?
“Eh, I ain’t scareda that! You can’t scare me; we’re practically of the same age from what I can tell!” The way they waved their hand dismissively drew a chuckle from Solomon. He knew not how they managed to spot his window since it was rather well-disguised, but he cared not. A few years of not touching grass was enough for his young heart to yearn for a friend, and a friendship thus blossomed. They chatted for a while — getting to know each other — before the child’s parents called for them. Scrambling to get up, they brushed the dirt from their pants and waved, a promise of visiting soon spilling softly from their lips.
This new friend would show up once in a while and Solomon has since taken to practising his magic with a board to his window. Every time the new friend showed up, they would knock six times on his window; three short and three long. It was a secret code they kept close to their hearts and Solomon would tidy everything up with magic, check that there were no traces of his practice and allowed the light to stream into his room once more. The other child had already plopped themself down, a pouch in one hand and shiny rocks tumbling out one after another. “Ain’t this cool? I found this on the ground an’ it’s shiny! Has a pretty colour too!” A clear crystal with light orange fading to sky blue was excitedly shoved in his face and it was only because of his window that it did not end up in his nostrils. He observed it, feeling that the colours looked familiar but he couldn’t tell why.
“Don’t’cha think it’s the colour o’ your eyes? That’s the main reason why I picked it up by the way! The orange looks exactly like how the sunset did when reflected in your blue eyes!” And there it was: the unknown reason. “How did you know what the colour of my eyes were?” Solomon asked, not believing that a person could clearly see his eyes when he was in a room so dimly lit.
“Don’t be silly! O’course I know the colour of your eyes. They’re the first thing I noticed after all!” They grinned triumphantly, “My parents say I’m an observant one all the time, and they would never lie t’me! You can have this if you want, I did pick it up because of you.”
Solomon could not deny his friend of this gift, not when he wanted it as well. It’s been so long since he’s received such a heartfelt gift from people his age; the last time being…. well, last time. How should he react? How did his fellow children react in such a situation? Do they cheer? Hug? Smile? He did not know. But what he did know was that he could not afford to draw attention to them both right now, and so he settled for giving them a bright, sincere smile in return. “I’ll take it, thank you so much! You can leave it near my window, I’ll grab it later.”
For a little while, he received no response and tilted his head in curiosity. Had he offended them somehow? Was this not how the other kids reacted from what he observed through his window? Was his reaction too mundane, too cold? Was this friendship going to end? Even worse, if so, will they tattle and bring about his family’s demise? Their stunned expression only served to fuel the flames of his anxiety, and a slew of apologies was on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill from his lips.
“You smiled! You actually smiled! You should smile more ya know? You look very handsome when you smile.” They leaned in a bit closer to see his face better, almost squishing theirs against the glass. The sparkles in their eyes made him blush, a mixture of embarrassment and awkwardness, and he could only stammer out what he hoped would be a socially acceptable reply, “T-thank you, yours is very bright as well.”
“That’s what my friends said too! It’s such a shame you can’t play with us though, I’d love to introduce you to them sometime. You’d fit in so well! I just know it.”
“I’d actually prefer if you did not. Having too many visitors is bad for my health.”
A sad sigh ended the conversation, though the other child quickly brightened up at the suggestion of the friendship being something akin to a secret for theirs to keep. “Aw yeah! This makes us so much cooler than the rest!” And with that, the two continued their daily exchange till the sun started to set and the child went home. As soon as they were out of sight, Solomon pleaded for his parents to bring him the beautiful crystal sitting beside his window and they had agreed on the condition that he be more careful.
For if the world was a huge vat of dye, then Solomon would be a piece of cloth, pure and clean as the snow that soon arrived. In such times, none are fully trustworthy, and it wasn’t a risk they could afford to take. As much as the couple understood that it was a lesson that Solomon had yet to learn, they did not have the heart to taint his innocence. Pair that with his puppy eyes, and his parents’ resolve stood no chance. But they were rather confident in their child. He had always been a cautious one since young, who loved his family enough to try his best, and for now that was enough.
Solomon, too, thought that he would understand the ‘adult world’ once he became one, but fate had a cruel appetite for the good that happened to people. And it so happened that he had been selected as the sacrificial lamb.
Just a few days ago, his friend had showed him how to make a snow angel and he had laughed at the silliness of it all. “Look! This is how you make a snow angel!” They had chirped, flopping backwards onto the snow and spreading their arms and legs till they had dug a shallow human-shaped hole. Due to the angle of his window, Solomon could not see the hole in its entirety, but he could tell that it vaguely resembled the holy ones he’d constantly hear about.
“That looks fun! I should try it sometime.”
“You should! I can’t wait for you to get better so we can have a snow angel making competition! The one who makes the biggest snow angel will win!”
“Oh, you best believe I’ll beat you in that! Mother says I’ve been growing taller recently.”
“Hmph, I’ve been growing too! Dad says I’m a few inches taller now.”
The little banter was then wrapped up with tongues playfully stuck out at each other, which was soon replaced with bursts of laughter. “But in all seriousness, I really do want to play with you outside someday. Who knows? We might even create the largest snow angel one day!”
“Yeah, I can’t wait for that day either!” A vow was made and that day, Solomon learnt how to make a pinkie promise. A new experience to add to his diary, he grinned. Having a best friend was truly fun, and he truly looked forward to the days filled with snow angels and snowball fights. He’d never like the heat much, so he’s confident he would fare well in snowy weather.
Solomon then went on his days merrily, preparing a birthday gift for his dear friend in return. Finally, it was their birthday and he had been anticipating their presence since the crack of dawn. It was the first time excitement had robbed him of his sleep, and he jotted this incident down in his little diary as well. The journal was pretty much running out of pages with the sheer number of new experiences his best pal had brought him and he made a mental note to ask his parents for a new one.
So this was what it was like to have a best friend, he realised. To have someone laugh and cry with you, to lift your mood when you’re down and to help you see the world when you couldn’t. He cherished every second of their friendship, and it showed in his gift. In return for their crystal last time, he had picked one according to the colour of their eyes as well; one with a gorgeous shade of emerald that gradually transitioned into a yellow as bright as their presence. He had thought it a perfect combination; one colour representing the eyes that held so much hope for the world and one colour to represent said sunshine child.
There was no better gift than this one, Solomon was sure.
The seconds soon ticked by, yet even when the sun had started to set, that bouncing ball of excitement was nowhere to be seen. A growing fear was gnawing at the back of his mind and his stomach was in knots. Something was wrong and he could not pinpoint just exactly what. His intuition had never been one to lead him astray and that only served to make him more anxious.
‘Perhaps they had something to do today.’
‘Maybe they got caught up in celebrating with the others. Everything is fine, Sol, don’t worry about it.’
‘But they promised they would make time for me today as well and they have never gone back on their word. Could they truly have forgotten?’
A green monster reared its ugly head, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
Solomon did not realise, but currently he was feeling jealous. Jealous that they had other friends, jealous of those who distracted his friend so much that he was shoved to the side, but mainly of the fact that he couldn’t cheer birthday wishes alongside them.
When Solomon finally noticed his scowl in the reflection of his window, he was taken aback. Since when was he capable of such twisted expressions? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
Now is not the time to get distracted, Solomon. He had to figure out where his friend was, and only then did he pick up on the eerie silence of the town.
Where was the hustle and bustle? Where were the kids playing tag on the streets? The houses usually lit were now dark, and the chimneys were not spitting smoke like they used to. Something was off and his mind demanded to know what.
Hurrying out of his room, he eventually reached his parents after making sure that there was no one over. The concern was unnecessary; the townspeople avoided their house the moment they caught wind of his supposed ‘illness’ anyways, but it was better safe than sorry.
“Mother, father, they haven’t shown up and it’s been a day.” He urged, grabbing his mother’s sleeve gently. His parents knew just how much he had been looking forward to this day and had been the ones to help him find that crystal; surely they’d help him get hold of his friend. In his urgency however, he had missed the flash of guilt in her eyes and the aversion of his father’s now heavy gaze, only focused on asking for their help.
Before he could plead for them to check up on his friend, his mother got up and directed him to the basement instead, a strained smile pulling at her lips, “It would be rude of me to show up to their house uninvited and without prior notification, dear, especially on such a day.”
His father nodded in agreement, chipping in his suggestion, “Why don’t I deliver the gift for you if they still don’t show up tomorrow?” The feigned strength in his father’s voice did not go unnoticed, but the young child passed it off as mere fatigue. “It’s alright, thank you.” He sighed, turning away in disappointment. The next second though, his sharp ears caught a faint cacophony of voices from the outside world, and he could not help running towards the windows.
‘The answers to your fears are there!’ His intuition screamed, ‘the truth is about to be revealed!’
What it failed to let him know, however, was that it was a truth he could never handle at his age, both mental and physical.
The couple could not grab Solomon in time either. For a child who spent his current life cooped up in an underground space, Solomon was surprisingly agile. Well, for the adults anyways. Only the child himself knew that he had also been working on his physical health and strength all this time. Strong powers demand strong vessels, he was not about to try his luck with the next spell he cast.
The burst of speed he gained from curiosity was immediately lost when he spotted the tendrils of smoke clawing their way into the sky. Various torches lit up the city square, and the usually peaceful citizens were now huddled in a circle, thumping their pitchforks against the ground and demanding for evil to be banished.
‘Evil? What evil?’ Solomon wondered, not having seen any malicious entities around in the town lately. The crowd parted slightly, but the little gaps were more than enough for him to spot said ‘evil’.
There, tied up to a stake, was his friend.
Their clothes were tattered, and gaping streaks of red took the place of the rips in the cloth. Bruises littered their skin and their hair was sticking in all directions — the crystal-clear result of harsh pulling. The poor child looked completely disheveled; their eyes devoid of the light they once held, their parents equally unkempt and displayed for all to see. Their once dear neighbours, friends and even relatives were now spitting from sidelines, disgust lining their features as they screamed curses.
“Burn, you heretics! You should not roam the very earth we step on! How dare you try to take over our space after conquering the depths below!”
“How dare you even come up to the surface and even bring that hell-spawn along with you?! You should have rotted in the very depths of where you spawned from!”
“I knew something was up with that little bastard the moment it showed off a rock to my child that day! Turns out that blue an’ orange stone was magical; it was trying to lure and drag my child down with it! Not on my watch!”
“These wretched beings tried to lure children? How despicable! We must send them down at once!”
Each word spat out drove the dagger deeper into the rope known as Solomon’s sanity. That stone was magical? His friend was a mage? No, that could not be. He could not sense any traces of such powers from the other child and he had always been a sensitive one to such matters. His friend was not a mage!
Clearly, the accused family tried to say the same. Vehemently denying that they were practitioners, trying to reason with the people.
“We do not have magic! You’ve never even seen us do magic!”
But how could logic ever appease the rage of the villagers? Humans choose to believe what their eyes see and deny the existence of what they did not. Out of the fear of the unknown, they choose to turn a blind eye to justice, to innocence, and most importantly, to the lives of the condemned.
Before his thoughts could spiral, calloused hands filled his vision and he was slowly pulled away.
“Don’t look, Sol! We… tried to save them from the sidelines, but they were discovered halfway.” A deep voice full of regrets sounded, followed by the drawing of curtains.
“They are neither mages nor witches! They don’t have any magical abilities!” Solomon exclaimed once he had snapped out of his daze, trembling as it finally dawned on him. His friend and consequently their family had been condemned to death because of him. It was all because of one stupid crystal the colour of his eyes.
He had caused their suffering.
His parents released him, pained by the agony in their son’s words. They were powerless to stop all that is happening as much as they wished they could. But there was no way two mere mortals could ever hope to defeat a raging, pitchfork-wielding crowd. All they could do was to comfort their son and pray that the other family would be given a quick release. However, it seems that their son had other thoughts.
The slamming of the doorknob against the wall was all that was left of Solomon; the boy having rushed out as quickly as his slippers could carry him. He had thought about using his powers to somehow save them, be it teleportation magic or perhaps some optical illusion.
Yet, he was well aware that it would only serve to make their lives worse. He could only help them hide for a short while but not forever. Word will still spread and bounties will still be set up. His best friend, a beautiful ray of sunshine, ever so kind and understanding, would be subjected to a fate worse than his. Never to see and enjoy the surface life, having to live by scraps like sewer rats as the people scorned and dragged their names through the dirt.
They did not deserve that.
Solomon thus chose the safer option of squeezing through the crowd and screaming at the mayor.
“They are innocent!” he yelled, “They do not have magical powers!”
That sudden interruption successfully stopped the adults who retracted their torches before they could accidentally burn an innocent child currently blocking their path.
“Whose son is this? Children are seen, not heard, boy! Besides, how can you prove that they are not from the underground?” The mayor questioned, the scowl on his face deepening as noises of agreement echoed from the crowd.
From the corner of his eye, he saw their eyes light up, but they soon shook their head slightly at him. Their parents were no different, eyes full of worry for HIS safety. They were already tied to stakes, at death’s door and yet this family was worried about HIS fate?
No wonder they say “like child, like parent”. He could definitely see where that kindness came from, and it only made him even more determined to stop this tragedy from taking place. There was no way he was going to watch that light be snuffed out — not over his dead body.
“Haven’t all of you known them for years? Never once had you seen them doing witchy stuff, have you? Mmph–!”
“My apologies, he’s currently feverish and disorientated. We will watch over him better.” His mother gave an apologetic smile as his father picked the struggling child up. “Hmph, watch your child before he gets burned by accident. We ain’t takin’ any responsibility fo’ that!” With that, the crowd turned to the three supposed criminals.
“The time to send these demons back to their creator is here! Pray, for their salvation, for them to be cleansed by the holy flames, for them to become holy and angelic instead. Pray, for their rebirth as a clean and pure being!” The wood beneath their feet were subsequently lit, and the family’s silhouettes were gradually engulfed by the smoke. The crowd quietened down, choosing to witness this punishment in silence.
“Mama, are they going to be snow angels now? Since the flames are cleansing their souls and helping them become angelic?” A voice filled with innocent youth rang out, successfully stopping the boy struggling in his parents’ arms.
All this time, Solomon had watched on, wanting but not bearing to bite down on his father’s hand. Tears had spilled over from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks in large droplets as his screams were muffled to the best of abilities.
But hearing those words made something snap in him. So, he went limp, bangs covering his dull blue eyes. His parents could only hold him closer, trying not to let their own masks crack. The people would get suspicious if even the adults in their family were seemingly mourning for the ‘evil’, so his parents could not express their sadness nor guilt for being unable to repay the good shown to their family.
Snow angels? Calling them that just because they were being 'cleansed' and turned ‘angelic’ in snowy weather? How could this child watch such a cruel sight with excited eyes and still say such dim-witted and disgusting words? She was but a little over half his age — had she already become a bloodthirsty abomination like the rest of them? The adults were even more revolting, since it was only due to their influence that the children had turned out like that. Unmoving, unblinking, as they watched fellow, live humans turn into charred, unrecognizable corpses before them.
But the one he loathed the most? Those who started this trend of executing people for magic, even without concrete evidence that they actually had any. How could anyone even stand for this? Mages, sorcerers nor witches alike harmed people. Well, most didn’t if the receiver did not deserve it.
Even if they did, chances are the ‘victim’ had committed some sort of crime heinous enough to incur the wrath of those wielding such powers. Even so, the true victims are always villanised and the innocent have their blood spilled.
‘People like that do not deserve to co-exist with the good,’ he thinks.
He then remembered the promise made to this friend of his, back when they had discovered his magic and had voluntarily been sworn into secrecy: that he would be an amazing sorcerer who served humanity and the greater good. That he would help humanity reach greater heights and eventually humans would not be powerless compared to other life anymore.
That those with magic and those without will live together in peace and harmony.
The ones with magic will be in charge of the protection of their residential areas and those without will be able to focus on food production and other areas necessary for survival.
The entire population be able to thrive and none will be condemned for something they did not choose again.
But were these the sort of people he wanted to protect? To help them prosper and live only for them to kill more of his kind and accuse those they needed to get rid of or despised of something they were never born with? Was he willing to protect the murderers while the murdered hollered their woes into the night?
In that split second, he decided ‘No’. This was not the humanity he wanted to lend a helping hand to. These vile beasts in humans’ clothing will not be part of the humanity he envisioned. They deserved neither his future protection nor efforts, and he will make sure that they know it.
With a raise of a finger so slight it could be passed off as a twitch, he extinguished the flames before the tortured cries could continue. Confused murmurs soon came from the crowd, and those at the front tried to light the wood again. Despite multiple attempts, not even a single spark could get the fire going, and a frustrated kick sent some of the branches skidding across the harsh gravel.
Solomon’s parents had a feeling that somehow, just somehow, this may have been their son’s doing. No reaction came from the boy, and they had no evidence. Even if they did, they wouldn’t have said anything anyways. But a temporary solution was not enough, and the civilians were obviously upset about having their ‘fun’ end. Even without fire, there were plenty of ways the family could suffer, each crueler than the last.
Solomon knew this. He also knew that he was not powerful enough to pull off any major spells despite his daily practice. There were no books he could consult, for those were seen as evil traps used to lure innocent souls. He could only rely on his active imagination and was relatively successful for the most part. And yet there was a limit to the power he currently wielded. He just was not strong enough to truly save them from the hands of the vile.
He had never felt so powerless before and neither had he loathed himself as much as he did in this moment. Wide, blue eyes could only watch as the mayor grabbed a pitchfork from a farmer and readied himself to carry out the sentence. It felt as if time had been slowed down, the seconds turning into hours as he struggled once more, a hand reaching out for the one who had never left his side and had opened his eyes to a new world.
They felt so far and yet so near; would he be able to save them after all?
A bright flash blinded all that were gathered in the town square before they found themselves floored, quite literally. What Solomon had yet to learn but did in this moment was that emotions were very much capable of unlocking one’s potential, something he had tons of.
Only able to stare at his hands in wonder, he surveyed the surroundings and to his horror, he found that the people had been thrown backwards by the sheer strength of his magic, and most if not all of them were unconscious. His parents were, fortunately, unharmed for the most part, but were also sprawled and unmoving like the rest.
His friend and their parents were more fortunate, for the stake had prevented them from being blown away. It, however, did not shield them from the resulting disorientation and Solomon took the chance to free them from their binds. None were in good condition, but his friend’s concerned him the most. The mere sight of their fresh and old wounds was enough to make his skin crawl and he had to hold back the bile rising up his throat. The priority was not how he felt right now, neither was it the visual assault his eyes had just taken. He had to get them all away before the others regained their consciousness. And so he did. Or well, tried, at least.
“I’m so sorry but please, if you can stand, follow me to the best of your abilities! I…am not sure for how long they will stay down and your injuries require urgent treatment!” He had whispered, shaky hands trying to find a good spot on his friend’s skin.
Only to find absolutely none.
As expected, the three were no longer capable of standing without support and could only lay where Solomon had carefully lowered them to the ground after releasing them. The two adults were shocked to see that Solomon had magical powers, but soon smiled.
“That… was why they said you were sick.”
“It matters not, we would have done the same.” Their parents mumbled, the words slurred from pain and exhaustion.
“Run, child… bring ours and go. I’m afraid we do not have long.” The lady spoke and the sir nodded, lifting a hand to stroke his child’s cheek; the fingers of his other intertwined with his wife’s.
The stunned silence coming from Solomon was broken by the sniffles from the friend laying in his arms, them grabbing onto their father’s wrist with bloody hands. “Sol, my friend...please, do not separate me from my mom and dad! Save them, save them!” They had sobbed, partly due to the salt entering their wounds but mainly due to their fate.
Solomon, with all his being, wished he could save them, but there was nothing he could do. All he knew were spells for minor cuts and scrapes, nowhere enough for areas of broken skin this large. That did not stop him though. He had the option to try and he was going to take it.
He could, and so he would. Like how he knew could try to save this family, and so he did.
Letting the powers flow from his fingertips as spells left his lips in silent chants, he watched as their pained expressions relaxed a tiny bit. It comforted him, though not by much. Their lives were still slipping from his hands like grains of sand with each passing minute, yet they’re choosing to use their last moments to urge him to leave them and to run before he’s next on their hitlist.
“Child, please. Go! Spend no more of your time on us and leave. Run as far as you can!”
“We are already a lost cause…we genuinely do not have much longer. Don’t waste your energy on us and go!”
“Sol, my best pal, mom and dad are right, jus’ go!” A harsh cough interrupted their words, and they watched in despair as their parents’ eyes slowly closed, hands intertwined with each other’s and their child’s. With one last murmur of a promise to meet in their next life and apologies for their sweet child, they were truly gone. The couple had brought nothing but their family to the afterlife, yet they gave and left so much for this unjust world to take.
‘The world does not deserve any of their possessions.’ Solomon thinks, but he knew better than to think that the greedy bastards in his town would leave their belongings be.
Despite their most precious belonging laying in his arms, he could not see his friend clearly through the tears blurring his eyes. He had already set their fate in stone and was unable to save their loved ones; the least he could do right now was to ensure their survival. Thus, the young boy shook his head and wiped at his tears haphazardly with his sleeve. “I’m not abandoning you! I… I could not save your parents, but I can save you!”
He had to, he must! He will do whatever he takes to at least do something good to repay this family for their acceptance! He could save them; he just knew it!
A hand tousling his hair stopped his ministrations and he soon felt his pinky being pulled at.
“Sol…I beg of you.” He looked up from the injury he was working on, large droplets still flowing from his eyes helplessly.
Why? Why was he crying now?! The only purpose that these stupid tears would serve now was to blur his vision when his job right now depended so much on his sight! He needed to save his friend, not cry like a little baby!
“Hey… Sol… don’t cry.” They laughed a little, the huff being cut off by another coughing fit. “Never thought I’d see ya cry, but here we are. Shame… that it was in this sorta situation huh? You crybaby.”
Crybaby? He gaped at them, absolutely flabbergasted. “M-me? Crybaby? You’re practically dying and you’re calling me a crybaby? How could you?!” He yelled, trying to pour more of his powers into his fingertips.
Watching the boy cry rivers was definitely not on his friend’s birthday bingo card this year. Seeing his tears made them want to sob alongside him, but they did not want to leave crying, so they pulled a little harder on his pinky, hooking theirs with his.
“Fine, fine, you ain’t one… but Sol, I feel so tired. So…very tired. I wanna sleep with my mom and dad. You’ll grant me that birthday wish, won’t you? Consider it my last request for ya.”
Their cracked lips pulled back into an exhausted smile, “Promise me you’ll live and become a good sorcerer… for us humans yeah? Who knows? One day… I might come back to you, make the largest snow angel… and snatch your title of the strongest sorcerer!”
“Psh, as if I’d let you take both titles from me.” He huffed, trying to smile back as he gently laid them down between their parents. He wanted to tell them to stay up a bit more, to refuse the invitation to dreamland. But as always, they had successfully managed to distract him from his woes and sadness. He couldn’t bear to ruin the mood they worked so hard to lift either, so he settled for tightening his pinky’s grip on theirs. “I promise.”
“Also, here is your gift.” He took out the crystal he had prepared as their birthday gift. “Doesn’t—” He choked up, turning away to recomposed himself, “D-doesn’t it match the colour of your eyes? E-even the shade of green i-is the same.” A wobbly smile appeared on Solomon’s face, but even he could tell that this smile was ugly. How beautiful would a smile be, when his facial features were twisted up in a fight to take control, to either display sadness or happiness?
He was sure that his face was covered in tears and snot. He didn’t care though. He wanted to send his friend off with the smile they had said was handsome, even if his heart was bleeding tears. Solomon knew that that was what they would have wanted and he was not one to deny their wish.
The other child gave a short puff of laughter. “Yeah, it does. It’s pretty like my eyes…” All they got was a watery eye-roll in return, but they wouldn’t exchange it for anything in the world.
“You still have that stone… I gave ya?” Their dull green eyes now flitted to the pendant underneath his shirt, recognizing the imprint of their gift. “You should toss it out; they’ll go nuts and burn ya… for being a witch with a magical stone."
Solomon shook his head stubbornly, refusing to toss out the last momento he had of his very first friend.
“Save yourself and your mom and dad, Solomon... Live on an' don’t end up like me; but if you can, become a good sorcerer an' help others like my family...” They forced out with their last breath, head turning to face their parents as their eyes closed.
Their last tear plopped onto the snow, incredibly loud in the mournful silence.
It was their last call for help; their last resistance to the world which sought their lives.
The child had finally passed, a peaceful smile on their face as the life slipped from their eyes, leaving nothing but an empty vessel.
“I promise.” A choked whispers sounded out, echoing through the snowy night. Without the need to put up a front, he was free to express his sorrow.
So, the child let himself wail, placing the birthday present in his friend’s pocket. He cried and sobbed, letting his pain shake the heavens and earth. He screamed at the injustice of it all and let the words fall from his lips. As usual, his demands of justice and fairness went unheard, just as it had for others before his friend.
It was a miracle that his shrieks of rage failed to wake the unconscious perpetrators; snowflakes littering their forms and melting after. He wailed and wailed, till his throat was raw, and only then did he get up and gathered the remnants of his strength. He should at least give them a somewhat proper burial, even if snow was not the best option.
He simply did not have the strength to drag them to the woods despite knowing that their bodies would not be spared; the healing had sapped him of his power and there was no time to rest as he usually could.
Thus, he did his best to see his friend off. To make their last moments a joyful experience. It was the least he could do when he couldn’t take or lessen their pain. His friend appreciated and loved it nevertheless, he was sure.
He then hoped, ironically, that they will become an angel, preferably of the snow. They were born in snowy weather after all, and now to snow they will return.
A silent prayer left his lips before the child was down. As his vision faded, he could not help but think.
‘Why were the angels watching this not helping the innocent? Why were they allowing such cruelty to happen?’ He simply did not understand.
Weren’t they supposed to be good, preach good and do good? Then why were people killed for something innate? Something they did not choose? His brain could not figure out the answer, choosing to relax his body and lure him into a deep sleep instead. They would need the energy for the chaos unfolding afterwards, it was sure.
As expected, when the townspeople woke up, they were shocked at the disappearance of the criminals. A search party was unnecessary, however, since one tripped over the three piles of snow and revealed the ‘witches’ they were about to search for.
Not willing to give the deceased a proper rest, the bodies were carelessly thrown into the woods for nature to do its job while attention was turned back to the unconscious.
Solomon, on the other hand, had thankfully woken up later than the adults had. They had assumed that he was attacked by the three evils upon seeing the blood staining his clothes and had urged his parents, now awake, to take him back home for treatment. His parents then carried him home, both concerned and fearing that they would be next.
The couple was thankfully wise enough to removed his pendant and hide it before the town’s doctor had woken up, knowing that the townspeople would send the doctor their way first since Solomon’s appearance was rather bloody.
The boy turned out to be fine, the doctor said, he just needed plenty of rest after the “horrifying attack” he’s experienced. His parents heaved a sigh of relief and saw the doctor off, rambling about how grateful they were for God’s blessing and how their son managed to survive an evil attack unharmed. It was all a bunch of nonsense, but clearly convincing enough for pity to fill the doctor’s eyes as he patted Solomon’s father on the shoulder, all the while reminding them to pray more.
The next few days were incredibly dull for Solomon. The boy had stared at his hands blankly after regaining consciousness, still trying to process his emotions. His parents tried their best to comfort him to no avail; he was unmoving and unresponsive. With a sigh, they could only leave him to his devices and allow him to grieve.
Having gained some personal space and time, Solomon took to watching the snow fall. He wondered if his friend and their parents had been discovered. If so, what happened to their bodies? Their estate? He did not know. No one would tell him either. Closure was not given and would never be given.
He didn’t want to know either.
A sparkle in the snow by his window caught his eye and his eyes focused on the object. Laying in the snow was the crystal he’d given to his friend, shiny and polished as ever. The colours were ever so vibrant, still the same emerald and yellow combination. He had to do a double take and rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. There was no way this was real; he had already given it to his friend so why was it here? Were they in the woods?
He wanted to know. He had to know!
He grabbed the crystal and called for his parents, frantically explaining to them that he’d found his gift near the window and how the other family must’ve been thrown into the woods if the crystal ended up here. He pleaded and begged for them to at least check if the deceased were indeed there and to at least give him some closure, but all he got were regretful sighs.
“There was nothing left, son. There is nothing in the woods. Even if they were left there, surely the animals had taken them. You know how nature does its job.”
There it was, the cold hard truth. The one Solomon needed to hear. Their hearts ached at his pain, but he deserved to know as much as they did. Escorting the numb boy back to his room, they allowed him to keep the crystal and gave back his. Solomon could only force out a ‘thank you’ to his parents before sitting on his bed and gazing at the two crystals in his hand.
These ‘rocks’ were all his powers saved.
At least he got to save another piece of them, he thinks bitterly. ‘How utterly useless. What do I need these powers for if I can’t even use them to protect the ones I want?'
‘…If the more powerful entities refuse to protect the innocent, then I shall become powerful and take on the role.’
‘One day, just one day, I’ll be able to defend the innocent from those wishing harm upon them. No matter how long it takes.’
That was the start of Solomon’s self-taught magical journey. His grimoires increased in number, but his diary remained single and locked up. No longer did he watch and observe the outside world, but spent his time practicing and mastering spells, particularly healing and teleportation spells. The sunlight would no longer stream in through that one tiny window; it's not like it had any way to.
Without the sun to remind him of the time, he relied on his Circadian rhythm to remind him to rest. But even that was ruined when he started to push himself past his physical and mental limits, so the only way he’d rest was when his body forced him to. At the very least, his body could refuse to support him through his stubbornness and he would finally allow himself to slumber.
Sometimes, he would see his friend in his dreams, smiling and laughing, donning beautiful wings of ice and a shining halo on their head. They’d grab his hand and pull him, the two falling into the snow and making snow angels.
‘A snow angel making a snow angel.’ He’d laugh in such dreams, causing his friend to throw a snowball in his face. Of course, he’d reciprocate and a snowball fight would commence.
Those were the most beautiful dreams he’d had, but reality would soon deliver a harsh smack to his face and wake him up. This cycle would repeat till his adulthood, and only then did he truly start to move on.
Or so he thought.
Funnily enough, when he had turned himself immortal on that one fateful day, orange crept up the bottom of his irises and created a beautiful gradient. Even the shade of orange was exactly the same as the stone he was gifted.
As for the crystals, he had taken to making pendants out of them, wearing them and roaming fearlessly in the human world.
It was a silent challenge to the world, for them to come and banish him for supposed magical stones as they had his friend. He’d protect these crystals with his unlimited life anyways.
Now his eyes could perfectly match his gift even without a sunset. He wondered how his friend would feel. Would they be happy? Sad that he had perhaps subjected himself to a fate worse than death? Would they finally come down to chide him for his silly magical mistake? Or would they try and steal his future title of ‘strongest sorcerer’ as promised?
Perhaps they would, but he should focus on his skills for now. He would rather they not show up when he’s still this… weak. When the day comes, he’d be sure to make them gape at his magical prowess and have them be his disciple. He’ll then be able to teach them, helping them grow just as they had him, and he’ll finally repay them as he’d always wanted.
Until then, he’ll wait for them. He’s always been a patient one anyways; a lifetime was nothing to an immortal like him.
However, as the years went by, his hair faded to white and the blue of his eyes faded to a dull grey. He could only pray that his friend recognised the crystals they’d exchanged, now hanging from his neck from a necklace. Surely they’d spot the crystals; their’s was hung right over his heart, and his over his core.
“Achoo!”
A sneeze escapes him and conveniently cuts short his trip down memory lane. ‘Goodness me,’ he thinks, ‘how long have I been laying here for?’ Nature answered with a gentle snowflake to his nose, drawing his attention to the slightly red organ. It’s getting cold. It would not be wise of him to stay out too long. His thermoreceptors are still working fine, and he’d rather they stay that way.
Perhaps a cup of tea would do the trick, he thinks. The other human exchange student had just given him a few bags the other day, all the while asking him where he got ‘the pretty green and yellow crystal’. They would love to get one, they’d said. But Solomon could only let them down, saying it was one-of-a-kind.
Oh well. At least they didn’t take the tea back. It would most definitely go well with Luke’s baking.
vampire solomon overhears the others talking about turning you into a vampire, so you can all be together forever, and becomes furious.
solomon’s the only one who used to be human, and the only one who’s had his entire world change. he misses the warm sun on his skin. he misses not having to hunt for blood every night. he misses his human friends and family, all of whom he’s buried.
and of course, solomon will miss you when your time comes. he loves you. but his love is the reason why he won’t curse you to endure this eternal hell, even if he’ll lose the sun-like warmth of your embrace.
I've never really been one for soulmate AUs but a soulmate AU with Solomon hits different.
Solomon, who traded his mortality. He's permanently stuck in this single stage in his life. Even demons and angels age, albeit slower, so there will be a day where he will be continuing the play of life, with an entirely different cast but only he is the same. Even further, there will be a day where he is the sole soul wandering the three realms. That loneliness is already hitting him though, he's so isolated from everyone and everything else, there is so much he can't relate to and he can't be bothered to catch up.
He laughs bitterly at the concept of a soulmate. If there was one for him, they'd be long gone. He has nothing left except for his body that frustratingly will not wither and he can only glare in envy at the couples that surround him.
But then you come in, not after decades, or centuries, but millennia of Solomon living, and you're his soulmate? This is more than just soulmates, this is proof that giving up his mortality was the right choice. He's not some man that's past his expiry date, he's not the remnant of a past that's been lost to the sands of time, a cog that doesn't fit in the machine of modern life. The fact you're here, connected with him tells him that he is meant to be here in the now, alive if not for anything more than to guide you through life - and that was enough for him.
what about 80 + Solomon for your event?? whatever vibe you want to go with (:
angsty-ish number 80 + mister solomon from obey me
“I’M SORRY I CAN’T SEE THAT YOU TRULY LOVE ME!”
your eyes narrow as you stare at the wizard before you. he smirks down to the ground, eyes empty and dark. "trust me," he says, "it's for the best."
you stay silent, face relaxing from its harsh pose and into something softer, more understanding. solomon clears his throat, eyes jumping away from you and to the wall beside you. "someone like asmo or mammon is more suited to you, i think. someone cute and sweet-"
"bullshit."
solomon blinks, eyes wide and taken aback as he finally looks at you. you pout, pointing a finger up at him. "i get to decide who i like. and i like you."
your words echo around the hallway, bouncing back to you. his cheeks turn pink as he forces his eyes away from you again. "name-"
"you can reject me," you speak over him. defiant and confident - truly, solomon was a goner before you even said one word to him. "that's fine. but, don't dismiss my feelings for you. that hurts even worse."
solomon softens, "my apologies. i'll think it over, okay?"
you nod, "fine with me. see you."
with a sigh, solomon leans his back against the wall near him. pinkend and heated cheeks are hidden by his hands. he lets out a small groan - a goner, indeed.
——♡——
choosing jus one lyric for this one was so hard... love writing my fave wizard boy though
Fdjsfhldsa thanks for sending this one in, I've been obsessed with this concept ever since.
“I’d still love you even if you were a monster.” - Solomon x MC
content warning: MC depressive breakdown
Solomon is worried about you.
Of course he is -- it isn't every day that Asmodeus calls him in a panic about how the brothers' favorite human suddenly started crying and ran away to their room, and had stayed locked up in there ever since, not responding to any of their attempts to check up on you.
"Is this some kind of weird human thing?! Are they broken?? Ugh, I heard humans break easily, but -- not this way, right?! Solomon, help, what do we do??!" Asmo had wailed over the phone.
And so, the sorcerer finds himself at the House of Lamentation, uncertain whether he'll be able to help but knocking lightly on your door and calling out to you all the same. "MC, can I come in?"
He's met with a long, hesitating silence before the soft click of the lock turning seems to grant him permission to come in.
It's not a pretty sight that greets him inside. You're huddled up on the floor just a couple steps away, head buried in your arms, hiccuping as you try to tamp the sobs down. Tissues are strewn all over the floor, and it seems like you've given up on them altogether, tears soaking random spots all over your sleeves.
He rushes to your side, quickly wrapping you in his starry cape, blanketing your shoulders in the lingering warmth of his own as he asks you what's wrong.
"Solomon, I live here with seven of the most powerful demons in all of hell, and-- and-- fuck, they're s-so nice to me, but I'm actually such an awful person," you choke out between sobs. "I'm not h-half as nice as Satan treats me, or as swee-et as Beelzebub, and th-they've all even come to check up on me all night. But I'm not like that, I-I was a horrible and vicious person before I came here. I used people, I did terrible things! What kind of evil person am I, if even the most demonic of demons are better people than me? Solomon, I feel like a monster."
For a moment, he freezes and doesn't quite know what to do. He's stunned. He has felt the same, of course, felt it so many times before. He's heard it said about him time after time, everywhere he goes -- that he's devious. That he can't be trusted. That he's even scarier than the demons. That he seems more like a demon than a human, even to the demons themselves. And isn't he? He can hardly blame them for saying so. To have subjugated 72 demons, tricking them, cruelly forcing his bidding upon them for centuries upon centuries -- there's a reason they called him a wicked sorcerer.
But you? You, with the happy-go-lucky smile, always cheerful, so preciously beloved by everyone? You, the first person in centuries to shine that same beautiful smile towards even someone as wretched as him?
He pulls you into a tight embrace, placing soft kisses on your forehead and wiping your tears away gently until your breathing steadies and your sobs subside. "MC, it's okay. It's okay. That's being human, you're not a bad person. Whatever you've done, I promise I've done worse. However horrible you've been, I used to be worse. It doesn't matter. If you're a monster, I'm one too. It's okay, I love you. I'd still love you even if you were a monster. But you're not a monster, or evil, or any of those things. You're not, I promise. You're human. You love like a human. Because you're the only one who looks at me like I'm human too."
