24 Pelagius IV

01.06.2024

It was the middle of the night and Pelagius was suddenly wide awake.

Horrible disorientation assaulted his mind as he struggled out of the blanket and almost fell out of his bed as he tried to stand up.

It had been well over a year since had last slept in his own bed back in Treva and almost four months since he had come to the station. And yet, when he was torn out of his sleep like this, his brain still struggled to remember that. Still expecting to be back there one day.

But this was not the day.

His heart beat hard and quick as he finally stood and regained clarity of his senses. “God dammit.” He hissed as he was already at the door and out in the corridor.

Aeven was awake. And the nightmare he found himself in hadn’t changed either.

Pelagius felt it as much as he could plainly hear it. The station was quiet, slumbering in its night cycle, so consequently the more pronounced was that clashing and shattering sound from the rooms down the hall.

For a brief moment he considered getting Ravalor; but Zenozarax’ quarters weren’t on this level and going there and back would take way too long. He had forgotten that he could send him a message via the stations com system. Most of his life the only way to notify someone quickly was to tell them directly or send someone to do so — using these novel forms of instant communication simply wasn’t something that was intuitive to him yet.

And at the end of the day and the middle of the night he wasn’t sure he wanted Ravalor to be there in the first place. But only in the way that one may consider the troubled and terminally ill to keep them from the sorrows outside their own. If Ravalor was going to die, best not have it be tonight by Aeven’s hands if he could avoid it.

Having learned his lesson of Aeven’s new trick, Pelagius braced himself, this time ready for the possibility that Aeven may charge at him. Then Pelagius opened the door.

The room was in shambles. Almost all lights were broken, smashed by brute force, only two were still flickering hectically like a stumbling heartbeat. And in the midst of the chaos was Aeven. Barefoot, wearing his plain black shirt and loose pants. Holding a bent piece of metal in his hand.

Pelagius tensed up. The piece of metal used to be part of one of the chairs, smashed to pieces by utterly inhuman strength and madness.

Aeven grip around it tightened as he met his eyes. The lights kept on flickering. There was a low hissing in the air. That couldn’t be good either.

“Aeven,” Pelagius said carefully, all the while readjusting his stance. “What’s wrong?”

Aeven’s face twitched. Maybe with disgust, maybe suspicion. It was hard to tell in the irregular light that threw nervous shadows over the young face.

“Where is he?” Aeven’s voice was raspy and low, like he had already screamed too much.

“Zenozarax? He’s not here. And he won’t come,” Pelagius said. Every muscle in his body was tense and ready to spring into action. “Did you plan to kill him with that?” He nodded to the rigid piece of metal. There was a dangerous sharp edge to it where the backrest had broken off. Aeven probably wouldn’t have been successful (even though as it turned out the wizards’ bodies seemed less indestructible than he had been made to believe) but he wouldn’t dare mock the attempt.

“You still protect him. You’re still his pawn.”

“I’m telling you a fact,” Pelagius countered calmly. Despite how it looked, Aeven was relatively lucid. Pelagius wasn’t sure that was a good thing right now. “He isn’t here. He can’t come.”

“He will.” Aeven murmured and he barely had finished the words when he snapped. It was a sudden explosion of motion, Aeven lunged forward, but, having expected it, Pelagius easily dodged the attack. The piece of metal hissed through the air, the force behind the swing made it clear that it carried murderous intent.

Carried by the momentum, Aeven immediately swung around, ready to block an incoming attack — at least if Pelagius would have had a weapon. Pelagius, who was under no illusion of being able to deal with this without causing harm, used his own momentum of the dodge to kick Aeven knee with full force from the side. A horrible crack filled the room followed by a roar of pain. But Aeven didn’t let go of the piece of metal. Aeven’s free hand grabbed him even before he had found sound footing again, the metal came from the right.

With both hands Pelagius took hold of Aeven’s arm who held him by the front of his shirt and he let himself drop. The metal piece swung over his head as Aeven, already unstable on one broken knee, lost his balance and stumbled forward and down with him.

Aeven was physically stronger than him, and he carried the makeshift weapon well, but Pelagius was quicker and very well trained in direct hand to hand combat. As Aeven fell, Pelagius, still holding onto the other’s arm, rolled over and Aeven slammed with his face into the ground. Using all his weight he bent Aeven’s arm back and pinned him down, using one of his feet to hold down the other hand still holding the piece of metal.

“Listen. I’m not your enemy. You need to stop fighting me. We’re in this together,” Pelagius said between heavy breaths. Aeven was firmly pinned down but he felt the sheer strength fighting him. If he found one sliver of leverage he would be able to break free. And so he spoke quickly. “You want to kill him? Fine. I wish you could but you can’t. We are both bound to him. You can’t change that. And neither can I. Get that in your head! And stop this.“

Aeven cursed him, not wanting to listen at all. “Let go of me!“

“No! Not if you don’t start listening. This is pointless. We both can’t die!”

Making no indication he had actually listened and without warning, Aeven buckled up, kicking himself up from his knees and throwing Pelagius off —

— the arm Pelagius had still held firmly audibly popped out of its socket. But it left Aeven still his fighting arm. Pelagius barely managed to roll aside as the metal piece came crashing down onto the very spot he had laid just a second ago. Not even trying to get up he instead pulled his knee up and his foot smashed into Aeven’s face.

Repelled backwards, Aeven was for a moment blinded by the exploding pain radiating from his nose and tears shot into his eyes. It gave Pelagius enough time to slam the side of his hand against Aeven wrist, the piece of metal fell from his hand, he grabbed it swiftly, crashed against Aeven, throwing him onto his back and with full force the piece of metal came down and impaled Aeven through his left shoulder. The inhuman force with which Pelagius drove the solid piece of metal down penetrated even the floor where it got firmly stuck.

Aeven looked downright surprised. Shocked even.

For a moment he didn’t even react to the intense pain now undoubtedly flashing through his arm and shoulder.

Pelagius, sitting on top of Aeven’s torso, who was firmly pinned to the ground, catched his breath.

“I have no love for that wizard, Aeven. He made me kill everyone I’ve ever loved. He made me ravage and murder. Whole towns. Cities,” he said between his breaths. “I am not your enemy.”

For the first time Aeven looked at him with a disturbing sense of clarity. As if he really saw and heard him, for the first time.

“But you still help him.” Aeven still tried to move, but his voice was now strained and unsteady, his face twitched in pain as he tried to move but the metal piece in his shoulder didn’t budge.

“I have no choice,” Pelagius hissed. “And neither do you. We are stuck here, it’s horrible but it’s reality. This is real. We both should have died but we didn’t. Now we have to deal with this situation. You have to accept it.“

“I won’t forgive him for what he has done!” Aeven shouted.

Pelagius grabbed Aeven’s shoulders and the prince winced in pain.

“That’s not what I’m asking of you! He is not to be forgiven! How can he? With what I told you, do you think I will ever be able to forgive him for what he made me do? Everyone I cared for died by my own hand because he made me do it. That can’t be forgiven. And I won’t.”

“Then what—”

“Peace. Of your own mind. Your anger and vengeance is tearing you apart, I know, but you have to let it go. He will set us free, I believe in that. But it won’t take away what happened. He will never be forgiven, because what happened can’t be forgiven. But it also can’t be made undone, no matter what you do. You have to accept it.”

“He needs to pay for what he did!”

“I agree with you.”

Aeven fell silent, staring at him. Blood was pooling below his shoulder. His face was bloody and starting to swell.

“Why don’t you kill him?”

Pelagius looked down at Aeven whose eyes seemed more hazy now, distant, and in pain.

“I can’t. And we need him, nobody else can stop this,” Pelagius eventually said soberly and took a firm hold of the metal piece. With a hard pull he yanked it out of the floor and Aeven’s shoulder — the bent tip ripping through already damaged flesh making Aeven gasp in pain.

Then he stood up, not once taking his eyes from Aeven who kept laying on the floor, his breath was flat as the pool of blood grew — and Pelagius knew he had pierced an artery. So close to the still adrenaline flooded heart the blood oozed quickly out of the ugly wound.

“Why doesn’t he kill me?” Aeven mumbled, his consciousness slowly fading as the life drained out of him.

“He can’t either.” Pelagius picked up one of the still intact chairs and dropped down on it, watching Aeven die.

“I shouldn’t… be alive…“

“That probably applies to most of us here.” He lay the metal piece on the table where it left a smear of blood. “But you are.”

“Ravalor said…” Aeven head lulled to the side, his eyes were heavy and barely looking anymore. “... I must kill him. He has to die...“

Pelagius smirked grimly, only short of scoffing to himself.

“I don’t think he agrees with himself on that anymore.“

There was a last twitch in Aeven’s face, a last shuddering breath. Then he was still. And dead.

Quietly Pelagius stood up and picked up Aeven from the floor to heave the limp body onto the bed. He used the restraints this time before he went to the panel at the door which had fortunately survived Aeven’s rampage.

With a few taps he was connected to engineering — at least the night shift, led by Wolla Tanax. The young goblin greeted him openly but reasonably weary given the lateness of the hour.

“Can you send a few people here. Aeven made quite a mess, most lamps are broken. He’s down right now, but won’t be for long.“

Wolla cursed lowly in her native tongue, then added “I’m on my way.“

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