Hide and Seek: Reunion Reborn
Summary: Determined to help someone who once risked her life to save him, Zomovast speaks with Athena, who struggles to recover from shock and grapples with his reality. Word Count: 3266
The proclaimed voice of nature was antsy, and paced furtively back and forth. Instead of taking someone under his wing, Athena had fall under a stupor and taken a spill. As Athens looked to help her awaken again to the night, Zomson picked at his dirty nails and stared ground-ward, keeping hushed and to his thoughts.
Certainly, it could still have been far worse. The fact she was alive at all was miraculous, in and of itself. Though they had never met, the burden of her sacrifice weighed heavily on the priest. A meeting had seemed improbable, if not destined to fail, until now.
Though he’d known little of the former Council Member outside of the letter she’d written to him sweeps ago, the resemblance to Athens was plain as the moons’ glare. Even besides that though, just from on first impression, she radiated elegance even beneath the cloak aimed to make her inconspicuous. A pretty woman, no doubt, though it was the nature of her soul Zomson was more keen to uncover. Was this the newest quest put forth by his lord? He had to swallow his patience, despite the fire of discovery burning inside.
It did not take long for her to wake back up, fortunately.
“Hey, Athena...you alright?” Athens whispered apprehensively.
“Ahh, she stirs!” He exclaimed, laboured with relief. Zom got down on one knee, placing his hands on the soil. His palms kneaded the dirt, muttering 'thank you' to himself for a moment before rising. As he dusted away with loose particles of dirt, his chains clanked against his tunic.
Athens helped her to sit up slowly, and she brought a hand up to massage her temples. As she slowly came to her sense, she looked upwards at the masked figure, her expression unreadable.
Athens looked between the two anxiously, but tried to dress himself with a smile. His voice was soft with a slight breathy tremor, "Ah, yes, well, lovely night, isn't it?”
“By hoot-beast call and fiddle-crawl whine, it’s an eve most sterling! Yet yes, to business we go, and forge once more we do, through our vivacious alleys!” Zom began, keen as a blade to earn his audience.
“Um, introductions, maybe we should do those? Athena, this is-oh," he turned to Zomson with a frown. "How do I address you? You have so many names now-"
“Many names given and taken, lost and found, but one rises above all other designations. I'm most grateful of you, Miss Highglow, for esteeming the epithet of Zomovast. Though, as not to dash fleet-footed past undetermined theses, might I convey that it is I whom you honoured.”
Athens seemed to need a moment to process his flowery dialect. Athena, meanwhile, seemed to understand well enough, though his words did not seem to please her. She scowled, and her glower made him shiver.
"He's dead," she said. Her voice was cracked, as if she could hardly contain herself from crying. "I saw his execution myself, and they account for Undead in these things.”
With a sigh, Zom’s gaze fell to the grave. The memory of clambering free of the choking dirt, amidst the agony of splintered bones piercing the flesh in his neck, was hard not to see vividly.
“Indeed, you did bear witness to that farce. To all of Alternia, the masquerade was stripped away in several past ventures passed. Although, ye, I believe we were both the holders of secret remembrances and vacant resting places, were we not?” His attention returned to her, watching the urge to deny it well up in her cheeks. “Nary do I lust to wake the beast of your suffering. But owed, it was; an encounter, to meet the savior that never was, and pay in kind the sliver of hope she salvaged with that self-destructive act.”
“No. You cannot be him. Let him rest, damn you..." Athena whispered, trying not to clench her teeth, visibly paler with every word. “Just stop it.”
“I cannot rest. Life is indomitable. ”
“Don’t do this.”
“Mm? What is it you object of my doing?”
“Don’t-“ Athena whimpered, clenching one of her hands. “-make me believe you. Don’t make me believe in something again.”
He had no immediate rebuttal for that.
“Hm. Should I-“ Athens spoke up in the moments that followed, shifting back and forth. “-give you both some space? I’ll, umm...” Athena’s fear shone over Athens, seeming desperate for his support, but the professor had already begun to draw away. “I’ll be by the shed, just call me if you need anything.”
Zomson nodded his head in understanding, watching the other Uyilst depart a distance away. His mottled hands fell to his thighs, and after another moment he sniffed, smiling beneath his mask.
“You and him are mirrors, aren’t you? Apposite, frankly~“ He aimed to keep a soft and curious tone, not eager to overload his conversation partner within moments. “You must sense that contentedness has found itself a home with him, even with the reunion overdue. I was reared free of psionics, but I can divine as much.”
Athena blinked up at him and finally rose to her feet. She dusted herself off, humiliation making her skin warm, and bitterness making her movements sharp. The woman was quite beautiful as she rose, even in anger. Half a head shorter than Zomson, with full cheeks and arresting lavender eyes.
She took a breath, then exhaled, shaking her head. “Well, we’re endangering that feeling just by meeting in the first place. I never met him, but it was unlike that man to be so bold. Why would his impostor take such a risk?”
“Your presence in my lamentations since our last grisly encounter had swollen, time and again,” Zomson explained, the wind tinkling his chains. “A reality wherein the thread was sheared and was, at times, inconceivable. Your correspondence became an unexpected treasure, and a token of prayer.” He saw Athena shudder with sudden shock. “Throughout the diversity of my surrender, however, now there you emerge.” He itched at the spoiled skin on his arm. “And more apparent than ever, you persist.”
“Correspondence? Y-you mean, the letter I sent him.” Athena translated desperately, pupils tightening. “Do you have it? Do you have that letter now?”
Oh. Oh, of course, the letter would be plenty of proof for the Uyilst, indisputable and private as it was. And, as chance had it, in the safekeeping of one of his Children he’d lost contact with. Still, there were other nails for that coffin.
“Ahh, on my immediate person? Nay, nay. Its crucial worth was too vital to chance eroding. However, arranging to reacquire this is an elementary matter.”
Judging from the narrowed brows and the way she crossed her arms, such an answer was rather unconvincing, much less the dismissive ‘hmm’ that slipped from her pursing lips.
“Well? Spill your innards unto me, if they yearn to be reckoned with.”
“I’m hardly the one of questionable intentions here, sir,” she shot back, calm but defiant. After a moment though, her head tilted and she placed a finger to her chin. “Alright, ‘Zomovast’, then tell me: Why did it matter so much to him, or to you, for it to have been kept all these sweeps? I'm a stranger; I have met with the Children only once before, I'm an outsider to all of you. And above all, my letter is what led the Government to him.” She took a step forward, gaze beckoning his mask intently for answers.
“Your actions did not constitute the point where structure fell to circumstance. My judgment was overshadowed and infiltrated plentifully, even prior to your interjection. But it was blessed indeed, Miss Highglow.”
“It's a sign of my betrayal and failure. Why keep it?"
“Life refrains from remaining defined by positives alone, or negatives alone,” he quoted as a song, letting the feeling of wind gather in the sleeves of his cloak, the world billowing against him. “The Lord invents tribulation as milestones, you see; a reminder of civility, and the incline of growth. The caw-beast must hunger so it knows to seek food, just as the wriggler sleeps so it knows how to dream. To disregard and vanquish a misery is to eradicate the purpose - to chip away at the cobblestone you leave in your wake. So you see: I would dare for-ever to live suffering knowledge, than decay in blinded peace and revisit again the ropes.”
Athena took time to piece together and ponder it, then bit back a scoff. "You’re Lord seems real good at making these 'tribulations.' But, maybe you can tell him to cut me some slack next time.”
“I am but a mouthpiece for his will. His is his own, entire and alone.”
“Yeah, alright. But even with that...“ She gestured to Athens in the distance, who gave a shy wave. “What does he have to do with this?"
“Was there one more befitting to chaperone a reclaimed dignitary?”
Athena rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean. Why do you know my brother?”
“Our encounters came about of virgin episodes,” he hummed, tilting his head. “I could spin further of that, but not primarily. It’s not to be tonight’s diversion.”
Zomson stepped away, sweeping to the tree he’d previously shaded beneath. Grabbing the basket in his aching digits, the priest emerged as quickly as he had waltzed off, watching Athena pull the cloak tighter to herself. Confusion swam in her features.
“Tell me, how ails your appetite? I prepared alleviation, would such be wicked?”
Athena looked between the basket and his face for a moment, brushing the bangs out of her face with a hesitant chuckle. “Ahh. Well, I mean...that’s quite a segue, isn’t it? ‘We’re both back from the dead, do you want lunch’?”
“It is indeed. Would you refuse?”
“...I probably should have something after passing out.”
“Superb.”
Zomson carefully retrieved and unfolded a hand-knit blanket, spiked with accents of smoke, and set it into the grass. The hill’s curve rebelled against anything fully flat, but seeing Athena perch herself down, it seemed sufficient enough. As the prophet unpacked the basket, she seemed to catch on the unlabeled bottle he retrieved first.
“Wine?”
“A gift, albeit something paltry. Your mirror remarked on your fondness for it, though I hardly partake,” he admitted. Zomson heard the click of the cap being unfastened as he placed a sandwich in front of her, wrapped in brown paper, and then a bowl of salad with currants and dried root.
“After tonight, I’m going to need this,” Athena joked, and he watched her take a glug right from the bottle, propping up her leg. Some good humour was returning to her; it was an improvement on the fear. “Mm, not bad. You’re a thoughtful fraud, at least.”
“The Akgast distill a holy nectar, as I’ve been told.”
“Akgast? I thought they shut down that vineyard sweeps ago.”
“Acts breed acts, and fortunes breed fortunes.”
Athena eyes shrank, perhaps debating on her own curiosity, but seemed to let the temptation to pry go and took another pull. “You certainly have the talking in riddles down, don’t you?”
“Have it down?” This certainly wasn’t the way he’d expected the conversation to turn. “I...I’m afraid I don’t grasp what you mean.”
“Sure you don’t. Ah well, whatever floats your gondola.”
“Water floats my gondola.”
“...oh.”
“Is that not the same for all gondolas?”
“Of course it is?”
“I see.”
Silence phosphorylated between them again, Athena looking to Zomson, him looking back. It stretched. And stretched. Aaaaand-
“Well?”
“......I am well, yes.”
Athena pinched the bridge of her nose, then gestured to the basket. “Well, a-are you going to eat too? I’m waiting for you.”
“Ahh.” Of course she wouldn’t realize. “Not I. The contents are yours alone. There is extra, should Athens find himself craving relief.”
“You didn’t bring any for yourself?”
“I needn’t it.”
Blinking slowly, she pushed her salad in his direction. “Fine, we’ll split it, then.”
“The gift is yours to take, not m-“
“Take it.” There was venom suddenly, cold and biting. “Otherwise, I’ll assume you poisoned it, and I’ll kill you on the spot.”
The switch was sudden, and drastic. At first, Zomson was felled totally in silence. But, obediently, he pulled the container closer to him and cupped it in his hands. Then, he turned to obscure his face, and pulled his mask up high enough to give his lips purchase to the chunks of roots, gnashing them with a grimace between his dead teeth. Athena sniffed mildly behind him, though he couldn’t see why. It took Zomson some time, but after he swallowed, he breathed deeply, ignoring the awareness of the food in his throat.
“...I hope this isn’t rude, but you smell like death.” She remarked, voice hollow.
Clearing his throat, Zomson masked himself again and returned to the conversation. Athena was watching him intently. “If that’s a taxing quality, I hope you’ll pardon me for it.”
“I’m not joking. Like rotting, like... you died.”
“Of that we agree.”
“You died.” Athena started to mutter, tearing her attention away, looking to the grass. “Is...it really...”
“The crux of your confusion appears latched on that ideation, despite my continued affirmations.”
“What was it like when you got my letter?” She prodded, taking another swig, making quick work of the bottle. “What time? What weather?”
“As I recall, Lyxlia interwove your avenue upon...” He had to search deep in his think pan, but by some miracle, it was there. “...It was smog of after rain. A suffocated morning. The stationery was wetted when it tumbled from your fingers, into the dewing grass. By firelight, however-”
“-Please stop...” Athena’s voice was stolen, sucked out like a gust of wind, small. She put her head down and shook it, sighing deeply. “There’s no way...that you can know that.” It may have been irksome to most, but to the priest, this was just part of the process. Recovery wasn’t a race. But he was there, and despite her pain, he was determined to-
Oww. That hurt- oh.
...No...he’d taken too long.
The insignia on the priest’s hand was burning.
Of all the times as well. What a pesky annoyance. And yet, he knew it was the will of Life. It was the nature of things, to ebb and flow.
“Athens,” he summoned, only slightly stiff. It was not difficult to hide the growing need; pain and discomfort was the norm, even despite how he felt the fibers of his body being pulled off the ground, magnetized back towards Castle Kirada. Clearing his throat, he glanced back towards the professor, digging his fingertips into the cool loam under him. “Hither if timely please, Athens. Some regrettable amendments do now blossom.”
The Foreseer’s focus bore into him as he glanced away, watching as Athens returned from behind the willow tree.
“Were you calling me, friend-“
“I must be away.”
“-hmm? What? We just-“
“-you just got here.” Athena whispered behind him at the same time the other Uyilst spoke. The ghost in her voice gave a thorny prick. “Away? What do you mean away?”
Zomson’s knees wobbled. A few hours walk awaited him, but he knew he could not simply stumble off without any sort of explanation.
“My form...it betrays me,” he choked out, betraying a trace of the tightness. Athena’s slim fingers wrapped around his wrist. He saw her face fall as he tugged away, out of his control. “It was folly’s ambition in me, to forego my usual solicitations.”
“Solicitations, hmm? Like, something to help with your rotting?” Athens’ eyes were hard. The prophet didn’t know if he believed this quick explanation, but he seemed to be more willing to entertain this. “Well, we could chaperone-“
“With such infamy in our company?” he huffed back, pulled backwards step by step. Zomson seemed so guilty, he knew. An explanation would be due, in time. Not now. “Leave it be. I...desire this as deeply as you do. But it is as my guardian entails, and I heed his whistle even still.”
“Well...” Athens scratched the back of his head. “You’re...not entirely-“ “Who the hell do you think you are??”
The daywalker was taken back by her fierceness as she gripped onto his shoulders, baring her teeth in rage.
“Hey, Sis, hold o-“
“Y-you’ve been dead for sweeps!?” She was shouting now, feet dragging in the mud as he still trudged back. “And I mourned you, and you come back with this shtick, and-and...I-I...what is this?!”
Why are you leaving me again? He could hear the plea behind the fury, but it was making it harder to resist the gravity tugging at him. Please don’t leave me again.
“Bring us both to your grave and ditch us?? I-is this a fucking game to you?? You manipulative, son of a Gogdamn-“
“Athena! Hey, hey, he wouldn’t leave if-“
“Apprehend it there, friend. You speak rightly, Athena...I have allowed your suffering beyond what is allowable.” He placed his hands behind his back. “Beyond what is decent. I mean not to deepen such. But, in this instance, it is irresistible.” Her pupils shrank with distaste at his words. “You will be near me again, as soon as able, should Athens find no exploit in my approaching your den.”
“Hmm? Oh...yeah, you can come over whenever you can.”
“Well, all may just be redeemed, then. Ahh - before the intention’s eluded me, however, it would gore my mortal flesh should you not receive a penance.”
Tears pooled in Athena’s eyes at his rejection, and she shook her head as if to refuse the offer. But before her grief intensified, from his pocket he plucked his last surprise. Zomson cupped her hand with his, letting the gift fall onto her skin. A frond of lavender, decorated with pale purple pearls, nestled in the grey nest. Her eyes went wide and she looked into his mask, searching, one last plea...
And then she let go, pulling the flower closer to her chest. Athens wrapped an arm around her back in support, but she didn’t look away. Zomson stepped back again.
“...if you get hurt out there, or don’t come back, I will find you. And make you wish you were dead myself,” she cautioned with a sniff, body tense. “I take you for a man of your word. So. Don’t disappoint me.”
“Ahh...I daren’t be so self-absorbed to fantasize upon that likelihood,” he announced with one last slow bow. Oh, it was really beginning to ache more and more now.
“I’m serious. You’d better be real.”
“Truly. Until our next fate intertwines us, Miss Highglow.”
“...alright. Zomovast Sanitash. Or whoever it is behind that mask...”
He saw Athena sink back into Athens’ arms, and they both walked back moodily to the checkered quilt. Shouldering his disappointment, Zomson turned away from what could’ve been at the reunion.
There would come another time, he knew. His Lord had rewarded him, heard his plea. A precious life was saved, and he was to play his own part in protecting it too. He had come this far and waited this long. He had died enough. He could wait to feel alive. That damned hex, though. He and the witch were to have words when he returned to her hive as promised. Buying further time would be quite the feat, given how often he had been away from her castle recently.
But even as the bindings tightened around his body, wrenching him back towards the ruined hive, Athena’s voice sang louder in his think pan.