Cassius had never had to fear anything before. Nothing had ever threatened him so intensely that he could not handle whatever situation he had gotten himself into. He had never left the Ivory Manor, and aside from the few guests the Prince drew to his court, there was no one who could inflict serious harm upon him. There were no others who could deceive him as he could deceive them. No one, that is, except for the Prince himself.
And now Cassius was feeling fear.
The Prince wet his lips, narrowing his eyes at the gruesome beast Cassius had turned himself into. It was not as if Cassius could see the change, but he could sense it, with our without eyes. This was the Prince, and the dark man had been correct in saying Cassius was closer to him than anyone else in the Manor. Cassius was made by the Prince. The others were simply summoned to him.
"What have you done, Cassius?" the Prince's voice lowered to a hush and he turned away, drawing a hand to his face. Cassius lowered himself to the ground at the sound of his master's hissed breath, sucked in between clenched teeth,” You’ve ruined it. Ruined it." The Prince swore, and Cassius could feel the anger pouring off him in waves.
Suddenly the Prince whipped around, stalking up to him,” Do you know what you have done!" He slapped his hands on either side of Cassius' torn mouth, pushing his head from the ground to eye-level,” Do you know how long it took to make him, to perfect him, Cassius?"
Make...him. Cassius sucked in a breath.
The Prince had made the dark man. Cassius wasn't his only creation.
The Prince turned away, seething, hands clenched into fists at his sides,” Now what do I do? How do I fix this." He snapped his fingers, and a book appeared in his hands. A large leathery tomb, its pages perfectly white and new. He cracked it open, flicking through the pages,” How do I explain this?"
"My lord?"
The Prince snapped his head around to Cassius, sneering,” What?!"
Oh, he was angry at him. Cassius quivered and lowered his head once again,” I know I have displeased you, my lord, but is there anything you wish of me? Use me, if you must, my lord, to remedy your problem."
"Use you!" the Prince growled,” What use are you, if all you do is devour my-" he stopped, mouth snapping shut. The book followed quickly. He turned away, thumbing his chin,” Yes, yes, perhaps I due have a use for you yet, Cassius."
"Anything, my lord, I will do whatever you ask of me."
"Very well, Cassius,"the Prince turned back to him, waving his hand and sending the book back to oblivion,” I need you to die."
"To...die, my lord?" Cassius slunk toward him, head bowed,” Lord, please, don't force me away from your side. I apologize for what I've done, but the dark man, he was treacherous, I could not allow-."
"Yes, yes, yes, Cassius, don't you think I know this?"
"Of course, my lord," cowed, he slunk away.
"Yes, quiet, now Cassius, you're task is to die. If you can do that I will allow you back into my courts, and into my favor, but until then I fear I'm going to have to exile you."
"My lord! No, please, don't send me from your side, who-"
"Who will take your place, Cassius?" the Prince strummed his fingers against his chin,” Why, I don't quite know yet, but I'll certainly make a note of thinking about it. Now, I have a fiasco to clear up and I can't deal with this, with you, any longer. It must be done, you have displeased me, Cassius, and for that you need to be punished. Shift, please, so I may send you off."
Cassius did so, shivering as his body shriveled to an emaciated wraith-like state, disappearing from mortal sight.
"Good-bye, Cassius. I expect you back shortly,” he waved a hand, and Cassius felt himself slipping from his presence,” And I do love you, Cassius, but this is the only way to fix what you've done."
Cassius bowed his head,” My lord."
And with that he was drawn from the realm.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Cassius' heart thrummed in his chest, beating hard against his invisible flesh. The sights, the sounds, the smells...they were all overpowering and strange. He was a neophyte amid a strange and foreign planet. Lost, alone, and more than a little confused. He huddled into himself, wrapping arms around his chest and staring into the darkness.
Sand.
He drew the word from what the Prince had given him of his knowledge.
He was in a desert.
It stretched on for miles in all directions, vast and bleak, the heat causing the image of the far off dunes to waver in the intense light. It was too bright and terribly hot, and there was nothing he could do to escape it. His senses already heightened to painful levels this new exposure to extreme was causing his body to wrack and his eyes to sting. Each breath of that smoldering hot air burned his throat and lungs.
Where was he? Where had the Prince sent him?
And what had he meant by dying?
Cassius understood the concept of death, it was something the Prince had given to him with his gift of knowledge, and Cassius had witnessed the occasional death of one of His minions or concubines. The Prince certainly had nothing against ridding the world of those who displeased him, but such things were usually a series of treacheries, incompetence, or sheer dislike or boredom. Could the Prince have grown bored of Cassius so quickly? Or had he displeased him too many times?
Could Cassius even die? The Prince had told him he was immortal. He was a wraith. What could kill a wraith?
Well, he wouldn't find his answers here, would he?
Swallowing hard and forcing back the pain of sensitive nerves, Cassius strode forward.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Cassius was beginning to find himself falling under the impression that the Prince had sent him to some dimension with an endless loop of desert. He had seen nothing but sand and dunes since his arrival. There were no movements other than the slight shifting of sand from the wind, which was just as hot as the sand and did little to cool Cassius' skin. Perhaps if he were to take the form a reptile he may better be able to withstand the uncomfortable temperatures.
Perhaps, but Cassius declined the possibility, gliding along tiredly. Any other form would make him visible, and in such an alien environment Cassius didn't want to risk being spotted. He had no idea what he might be forced to face if he allowed himself to be detected.
As if he'd been projecting his thoughts a figure appeared on the horizon. It was no very large, and certainly no where near Cassius, but it was a creature none-the-less, the first Cassius had seen since he appeared in this deserted landscape. The shape wavered against the sun, shaking and distorted by the heat waves. Cassius could not make out what it was, or whether or not it was desirable. But he was curious, and it would do him no harm to investigate so long as he did not allow his feet to touch the sand and kept himself invisible. With that in mind he began to glide a little faster, lest the thing decide to die during his attempt to reach it.
If nothing else, Cassius could eat it. He wasn't hungry, but he suspected there would be little to eat in such a place as this. He would take what he could find.
The sun had sunk a little lower along the horizon, by the time he reached the figure, shielded a little by some of the largest dunes. Cassius willed the winds to keep them in place. It left the desert a little cooler, giving his nerves a break from the onslaught of extreme stimuli.
The figure, as it were, was not merely one person but many, sporting dark skin and long, aquiline noses. They carried with them beasts of burden, camels, lithe legged horses, and asses, the backs of which were piled high with brightly colored cloths. Large boards were roped to their withers, which in turn were attached to caravans lined with cages, inside of which a great variety of exotic creatures, and persons, were held.
Cassius moved to the side of them and took a seat on a hill side to watch them.
The train was long, and many persons strong. Even if Cassius were willing to risk shifting he doubted he'd be able to subdue the group long enough to eat his fill and keep himself from harm.
But perhaps that's what the Prince wanted.
The sooner he died, the sooner he'd be allowed back into the Prince's court. He hoped. Cassius was still unsure what dying, for him at least, implied.
Cassius' form made the smooth transition into that of a human, better not to make himself seem threatening. Swathed in bandages to hide his leprous wounds Cassius rose to his feet and strolled down the dunes toward the train of persons, hobbling slightly in his steps. He brushed a hand over his mask, making sure it was in place, and called out to them.
Immediately several pairs of eyes flickered toward him. He could not read their expressions well from where he was (and many of their faces were covered with a sheet of cloth to keep the sand from finding its way into their noses and mouths), but he could hear quite clearly from their mutterings amongst each other that they did not speak the same language as his Prince. Quickly he searched his thoughts for any knowledge of this language.
Arabic. Thank the Prince he was familiar with it.
Cassius called to them again, this time in their own tongue.
One of the men handed the reigns of a camel to another and began to trek toward him. Meanwhile, the others forced the caravan to slow and stop, before turning wary gazes to Cassius and his approacher.
"What is a leper doing, wandering the desert?" the man asked, stopping a good couple meters away from Cassius. Cassius had expected that, of course, none of his visible forms were appealing and the risk of contracting disease was always evitable.
Remember, he told himself, he wanted to die. He wanted to please his master.
Cassius twisted his blistered lips into a sneer and placed a hand on his mask, pulling it a few scant inches away. Telepathy. He had to use telepathy. Quickly he let his mind reach out to this man's, invading and probing to suck up any scant piece of information he could collect. He needed something potentially dangerous, something to anger him.
He found it.
Curling his fingers around his mask Cassius made to remove it completely.
"No,” the man said, his voice urgent, but calm,” Do not removed your mask, leper, I have no desire to see your face."
"But is it not more appropriate for men to speak eye to eye and face to face?" Cassius let his arm fall to his side, mask in hand,” Or am I too malformed to be considered a man?" he cast his eyes, sunken beneath torn and rotted flesh, toward the train,” I am a servant to a great king of your land, who has sent me to investigate your dealings. You sold him a useless pair of Asiatic lions, last you met, and he desires your company in order for you to...correct your mistake."
The man backed away, curling his upper lip in disgust,” I remember no man who keeps lepers."
"Would any great and noble king keep such creatures as me in the open?" Cassius shook his head, smirking. The bare, oozing muscles of his face stretched and pulsed,” You would not know of me, I would not subject my vulgarness upon my lord."
"A loyal servant,” the man narrowed his eyes,” Tell your master he will see us when we please." He made to turn away.
Cassius limped forward and shot out a hand, gripping the man's shoulder. The man jumped away, swinging around to face him once again, wiping desperately at the moist print on his shoulder where Cassius had laid his fingers.
"You've touched me!"
Cassius titled his head to the side, smiling,” Merely your clothes, but do not turn your back to me, nor dismiss my lord's orders. You will see him."
"No,” said the man, squaring his shoulders,” We will not."
Cassius nodded his head humoringly,"You have a wife and daughter, do you not?" He did. Cassius' had found them when he probed his mind. A beautiful wife and child, both in good health, both very much adored in his thoughts.
The man stilled,” How-."
"My master takes no short-cuts in learning of those he makes deals with, sir. Of course, he does not know where they live, or who they are, simply that you have them. I on the other hand, do know, and I'm afraid I would have to let that information slip were you not to turn around and see to my master's wishes."
The man began to quiver, and Cassius watched his arms tense and strain. In a flurry of movement he whipped the sword from his side and plunged it into Cassius' chest. Cassius let out a gasp of pain and stumbled backward, clutching at the blade. It sliced cleanly through his weak and rotten flesh, revealing bones between his palms.
"I think not, leper,” the man growled, thrusting his sword deeper into Cassius.
Cassius fell backward against the sand, sliding off the blade, gasping.
The man turned away, sheathing his weapon, and loped back to his companions.
Cassius lay in silence, listening to his torn heart beat uselessly against his ribs, pumping blood out of the wound. It stained his bandages, soaking the ruined skin and flesh beneath.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
Moments passed, with the sun sinking low over the horizon. The sky turned from blue to bright crimson red-purple, like a bruise.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
The last of the suns rays disappeared over the hills, and the caravan was finally out of sight, long gone and far away. The sky was black and spattered with stars, bright and perfectly white against the endless stretch of ebony.
Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
He was alive.
He couldn't die.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Where was he? Phlegethon was certain he'd sensed that presence here, for an instant at least. It seemed to flicker off and on, causing him no little amount of distress. The...creature, seemed, in his mind at least, suitable enough for the Fate's first theurge, and he wanted him. But where was he? He'd circled the barren landscape for hours and not so much as a flicker of that presence could be detected since its initial appearance. It was frustrating to no end. Why couldn't he detect him?
The, suddenly, that presence bloomed again in his mind. It wasn't far. Quickly, before it had the chance to phase out again, Phlegethon shimmered out of his location. Teleportation was such a convenient ability.
He reappeared on the side of a dune, the night sky bathing the area in darkness and made it terribly difficult to see. He'd teleported close enough that the presence's form was not entirely invisible to him.
The creature was a...dragon, it seemed. Or something like one, anyway. Large and flesh-toned, with wyvern wings and a heavily disfigured face. It appeared distracted, clawing absently at its face with its wing-fingers. Biting down the urge to curl his lip at such a repulsive creature, Phlegethon approached.
"Excuse me?"
The thing whipped its head around, lips pulled back in a snarl. Blood and some unidentifiable ooze covered its face, tricking along its jaw and dripped down the end of its sand to pool against the sweltering sand.
Quickly assuming this...thing wasn't going to offer any introductions, Phlegethon spoke,” My name is Phlegethon,"he bowed elegantly,” May I ask your name?"
"A faceless servant,” it whispered breathily,” A masterless slave,” it turned away, staring down at its feet. A moan tore itself from the creature's already mangled lips, and it crooned,” Call me what you wish, but leave me to my own misery!"
"Ah,"Phlegethon sucked a breath. Hopefully this wouldn't get difficult,” I don't believe that's possible, and I would severely appreciate it if you cooperated with me."
Otherwise he'd have to force him along, and he knew what that meant. Phlegethon hoped it wouldn't come to that. Venom tasted so horrendous, after all.