Odyssey

This ends tonight. He promised her he would make things right and he was a man of his word. Now if he could only figure out how. He kept hidden in the dark passages behind the walls, waiting for the right moment to move. Keeping track of the glowing light beyond the door, in this world the sun never rose and the only light came from the over sized moon that hung in the sky. Bright and unmoving. It shined on a massive complex of white pearlescent buildings reminiscent of ancient Greece that had been carved into the side of a mountain. Aside from the moons light, numerous pillars that contained a softly glowing light illuminated the many outside walkways. Lights that he was waiting for to dim, singling the arrival of sleeping hours.

With no working watch he couldn’t tell how long he had till then, all he could do was wait and try not to nod off until it was safe to traverse the halls. Thoughts of his beloved medic filled his mind as he unconsciously fussed with the makeshift weapon hidden within his black and white trench coat. A long shard of white bone nearly as tall as he was. He was unsure how well it would help him but it was hard to resist a gift from someone who was in a similar situation as him and even hailed from the same apocalyptic world he came from. One thing he was sure of, he would put the weapon to good use when he faced off with the creature that ruled this world.

Blinking back into awareness as the soft light slowly began to fade into darkness. It was now or never, pushing open the door and stepping out into the hall silent as the ghostly entity that he was named after. The man called Wraith stared down the massive hallway. The tour guide hadn‘t had the nerve to walk the halls while lit, not after last time had left him huddled against the wall, bleeding with his ribs shattered as monstrous creations fought one another. They had never even known he was there and his freshly healed ribs still ached with phantom pain of the memory. Towering pillars and gleaming marble statues lined the hall, looking as normal as could be aside from their absurdly large size.

In truth, it all was normal and it was Wraith who stood out of place. A man that once stood a proud 6’3 now reduced to a pathetically humiliating 4 inches. All at the whim of the muse that lorded over this world. After a week in this new form, it had slowly drained his sanity, shattered his self-confidence and worse of all put a strain on his relationship with his girlfriend. Before it was he that stood over her, leaning down to kiss her soft lips but now because of the muse he often found himself sitting in her hand. He took it all in good stride, tried to at least.

Days passed and the muse never mentioned changing him back. The idea that he would never change back began creeping into his mind. It was something he could not afford to let happen, not when his medic was carrying his children. Slowly he started falling into a depression as his inadequacies began making themselves known. How could he help her with his own children when he was the one they could hold? How could he be there for her emotionally when all he could do was hug her fingers? The thing that distressed him most was how could he protect his family like this?

He remembered the last thing he said to her.

“I’ll make things better, I promise.”

And her response.

“I believe you.”

Now a man determined, he started on the path to the lair of the muse, to force the muse to return him to his normal size or die trying.

With only the moons light to guide him he skirted from pillar to pillar, eyes and ears alert to anything that might still be lurking in the dark. Glad his black and white coat would at least provide him with some camouflage, helping him blend with the white walls and dark shadows. Every so often he would stop and listen, at this size every sound was distorted and threatening and made him grip the bone needle tighter. But this sound was familiar, long wings whistling through the night sky, rushing across the walkway to look out at into dark, he barely caught a glimpse of a dark shadow cut across the moon before losing it again.

He already knew what the shadow was, a black dragon named Obsidian, swift and near impossible to track in the dark. Unless you listened that is. The whistling lessened as she drew nearer the summit of the complex and slowed her flight path. A few quick wing beats later the long serpentine dragon landed at the upper balcony, clinging to the railing as a shadowy figure nimbly jumped from her back and quickly disappeared onto the platform. Free of her passenger, Obsidian released her grip on the balcony, free falling before spreading her long wings and vanishing into the night.      

A small grin appeared on Wraiths face, now he knew exactly where the muse was. The only problem was getting there. As far as he knew, no hall connected to the muse’s room, not even the little passageways behind the walls that he used made it up there. One could try climbing the rocky cliff face, which for any normal person seemed rather treacherous, more so for someone only 4 inches tall like him. The only other option was to fly to the balcony. Even when faced with such impossible odds he still had to try, for Medi.

Now he felt even more hastened, the muse was in his room, sleeping he hoped. There was no telling how long he would remain there and time was of the essence, especially for Wraith, whose size would only slow him down. Throwing caution to the wind, he began sprinting down the walkway. Finally stopping when he was out of breath and felt like he couldn’t run anymore but looking back the distance he covered it was dismal at best. Wraith leaned against a column near a hall that lead deeper into the inner complex. If these halls and walkways winded him how was he ever going to make it up to the muse’s room?

Wasting no more time with thoughts of self-doubt, he started back on his journey, only to once again stop at the sound that was echoing up from the dark corridor he was currently standing in front of. A soft sound that nobody should have been able to hear, rubber padded paws on smooth marble. The only reason he heard the near silent footsteps in time was due to his small size and now he was relying on it save himself. Darting back behind the column, he squeezed into the narrow space between the pillar and wall. Silently praying he hadn’t already been seen. Fear coursed through his small frame, knowing only one kind of creature could make that sound, one he had been terrified of finding him.

The Lamia.

The two had never been on good terms and even when he was at his normal height, he still found himself intimated by the biomechanical creation. Their first encounter had been in violence, long pale scars on his chest served as a reminder of her attack and now she could easily gut him with a single hooked claw. The sound of metal scrapping and clicking against more metal drew closer. He steeled himself and braved a look at the weapon turned titan passing by. Now he wished he hadn’t.

Silver light danced across metal armor, showing off the Bioma’s dark lethality, powerful mechanics, and a helm lined with gleaming teeth complete with two long canines that were half his height. Ducking back behind the column when she stopped, he had forgotten her kind could see in the dark and all it would take was single swipe of her metal paw to crush his body. Wraiths body seized up, adrenaline pumping through his body as steps muffled by rubber treads came closer to his hiding spot. Along with her enhanced sight, he never accounted for her advanced hearing and silently willed his pounding heart to slow least it betray his position to the beast.

Holding his breath, all hope seemly lost when something drew the Lamias attention elsewhere. The sound of another set of rubber-clad paws barged onto the walkway, quick and clumsily, so unlike the silent death that was just a few seconds away from finding him. A streak of hyperactive silver ran passed them, pausing a ways down the hall. Standing upright on spindly metal legs was the child Bioma, Fenrir. Giving Lamia a gapped tooth grin and a few wags of his narrow whip like tail before dropping back on all fours and running off. Sighing, the Lamia pulled away from the pillar and quickly trotted after her young charge.     

 The tour guide stared quietly as he watched the pair run off. Taking a few cleansing breaths as he ran around the column and immediately collided with the three toed hoof of a third Bioma. The force of the collision caused the man to fall on his back, leaving him to stare up at the immense bioweapon looming over him. Lying helplessly before the biomachine his only hope was that it didn’t feel him running into its foot. Hopes that were soon crushed as it turned its bizarre narrow head downwards; he could hear the optic sensors click and whir as they focused in on him behind the black plexiglass housing of its helm.

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, to the tour guide at least. To the Bioma he must have been some oddity to be studied, all Wraith could do was look at the maw of creature. A jaw lined not with teeth but long ridges of metal that he knew had enough hydraulic pressure to clamp a lead pipe shut. Finally, losing interest, the Bioma moved on, making an effort to walk around the tour guide instead of over. The bioweapon loped off after its comrades on lanky deer like legs, most likely on another food raid judging by the saddlebags draped over its back. Leaving Wraith to thank his lucky stars that out of all the Bioma that saw him that it was by the quiet and sensible Leucrotta.   

“Well, that took about 15 years off my life.” He muttered while clutching his chest. Letting out an exasperated sigh as he stood up, moved on with a sense of urgency, and renewed determination, the delay had cost him even more time now. In addition, the desire to put as much distance between him and the Bioma served as good motivation.  

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He stared upward at the glittering gypsum cliff before him, the task more daunting now that he finally met the sheer rock face itself. He was wrong, a normal sized person would have never been able to scale this thing without some sort of climbing gear, it was just too tall and smooth. Once again, the tour guides small frame might be useful, thin cracks and crevices could serve as decent handholds. Wedging his boot into a crack and slipping his fingers into a handhold he took a few experimental steps up the wall before letting go and dropping back to the ground. Backing away to once again examine the wall.

In the end, would it really matter? Even if he did somehow reach the top, he would be too exhausted to do anything, and time still being a factor. What if by the time he got there the muse already regained consciousness and left? Then there was the fear of falling. He wasn’t sure how his reduced mass would effect him if he slipped and he knew for sure wasn’t keen on finding out. Giving up never seemed so tempting right now.

Nevertheless, giving up was not an option, not when she was on the line. Tired gray eyes became steel, glaring at the wall that dared stand in his way. He would be her hero and like all other heroes this was just another trial for him to overcome. He would climb for her, he would keep climbing and if he fell he would start over, keep climbing no matter how broken his body became. He would keep moving up when his fingers tore and bled, he would paint the wall red as a testament to his desire to see his medic again. He would confront the muse in his own lair. He would do it all for her.

Not long into his climb he heard the sound of wings beating against the air again. Not the giant wings of the black dragon but something much smaller. The tour guide clung close to the rocky wall as a creature landed with a thump behind him, hesitantly he turned to see what it was and gray eyes met with shining black orbs. Wraith found himself staring face to face with a small pink dragon that stood just a little under a foot tall.

He had seen this dragon before, it was the personal dragon of n.s., the mortal god of this world and the muses other half. Normally the dragon was only around when n visited in her mental form, which begged the question, was she here now and was she watching him? A soft croon brought Wraith out of his thoughts and back to the dragon at hand. It was looking at him expectantly, she was. He was sure this dragon was a female judging by the colors and now he wish he could remember her name. The dragon fluttered her shimmering blue wings and continued to watch him. Wraith tore his gaze away from the dragon, looking up before meeting his eyes with the dragons again.

“Can you get me up there?” He asked, not sure if it would work, didn’t hurt to try though. The dragon said nothing, simply moving closer to allow him to jump onto her shoulders. Carefully climbing into position the tour guide hooked his legs under the part where wings met the body and wrapped his arms around her neck tightly. “Ok, ready.” He muttered. Soon as the words left his mouth, the dragon crouched down; pale blue wings spread, and sprang into the air as the tour guide let out a startled yelp.

Not one for flying on dragon back, the tour guide kept his eyes shut and let his mind drift back into heroic thoughts. He had a steed now, one that was carrying him through the final leg of his journey. Grinning at the thought, he was riding a dragon, a pink pastel colored dragon. Suddenly the idea didn’t seem quite as manly as he thought it did.  

The dragon turned what should have been a grueling climb for him into a short flight and not long after beginning their ascension, the dragon slowed, landing lightly on the railing without sound. The tour guide, finally braving his eyes open gave the dragon a gentle tap on the neck and pointed to the balcony floor. Wordlessly complying the dragon leaped from the rail, wings fluttering as she landed on the floor and crouch down.

Sliding from the dragons shoulder the tour guide walked forward, hand trailing across pink scales edged with gray. Stopping at her head and giving her a scratch under the chin, smiling when a thrumming purr rumbled in the creature’s throat. He thanks her silently, which she nodded in return before lying down to wait. The tour guide was grateful for her insight; he would most likely need to make a quick get away when all this was over.

Turning to his goal, freezing up as a cold wind blew from behind him and gently stirred the white sheer curtains in the doorway to the room before him. The silence was unnerving, as if sound didn’t ever dare to tread here. Every part of him screamed to leave this ominous place, to turn back and escape on the dragon. But to run would be admitting cowardice, allowing the muse to win. To never see his precious Medic again. In his mind he could see her, sad and alone. Waiting, wondering if he would find his way back to her.

He would, he promised.

The wind continues to dance around him as he walked forward, towards the thin curtains that swayed like wisp in the night, beckoning him into the muses den. Passing under the flowing wall and into the dark interior of the room, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim light that filtered thought the curtains. This was the lair of monsters, where other creations like him feared to tread. He very well might have been the first of any creation to see where the muse lay.

The room itself, while spacious seemed fairly bare for being the room of an entity that could have whatever it wanted. Although that just could be from the fact that he could only see from the ground level. The walls a polished white, much like the buildings below. A few pillars along the along the walls and marble statues that the muse adored filled the spaces between. A writing desk in back, he wondered what it was for since the muse made it well know his deformed hands made writing impossible for him. Maybe the muse had a thing for impractically objects he thought as he passed under a gilded hanging birdcage that contained no birds.

 He also noticed a marble fireplace with the remains of a fire that had long since died out. Across from that was the resting place of the muse, a large four-poster bed with a canopy. The muse wasn’t up and around when Wraith made his little home invasion, that meant the muse was most likely asleep, asleep and vulnerable.

‘This is good.’ He thought as he walked to the bed, grabbing a fist full of the soft velvety covers and begun to haul himself to the top. The muse when awake was impossible to get the drop on, if he really was asleep then now couldn’t be a better time to strike. Looking across the red expanse of the bed he finally saw his enemy, the one that was the cause in all this strife he and his girlfriend were going through. The muse was on his back looking for all purposes asleep.  

Making his way towards the muse, he noted the bed even seemed to hinder his journey, sinking slightly under his minuscule weight. At least the covers themselves were no problem, lying flat and mostly undisturbed since the muse had chosen simply to collapse on the surface of bed than to bother covering himself. He was still was in his normal clothing too, basic black shirt and pants, his tattered brown coat and his hood had mostly fallen back away from his face. He never had seen the muse wear anything different, he wondered if the muse even had other clothes.

Slowly he approached the muse, from caution but mostly fear. Once they had been able to meet face to face but now the sheer size of muse alone made his chest feel tight and stomach drop as if a cold stone of dread had been placed there. Wraith could very easily say that he was intimidated. Hell, even his 5’1 girlfriend had intimidated him without even knowing it.

It still unnerved him just how easily she stripped him of his coat once, back when he was his normal height it was cute when she stole his coat from him but this time he felt as he were a toy being undressed. Part of him wanted to fight to get it back but he knew it would only reinforce the apparent cuteness factor he had gained with the loss of his size. So meekly, he let her have it, feeling emasculated and shameful of himself. Not that it was her fault, it was just the way he perceived the world at this height, which made it all the more important that he get back to normal as soon as possible.

Grabbing onto a belt loop of the pants he hauled himself onto the muse, thinking the hip would be a spot that the muse wouldn‘t be likely to feel him. Here he had thought walking across the bed was awkward, that was nothing compared to walking on the muse’s torso. The ground under his feet was living and each breath threatened to topple the tour guide. In a sense, it was like walking while on a boat. Wraith stopped, sighing as another little hurdle had appeared to hinder him, the muse had fallen asleep with his hand on his stomach.

The muses hand, one of his most noticeable characteristics. A pale white hand with fingers that had been hardened into wicked claws, claws that were capable of the gentlest touches to the most agonizing torture. Hesitantly he reached out and placed a hand on a long claw, the muse once said his claws were made of keratin, much like his own fingernails, and could not feel anything through them. He hoped that was true as he carefully made his way over them.

Moving onto the muse’s chest, thankful the ground had become firmer and the breaths less heaving, but now a heavy scent of lavender surrounded him, the scent of the muse. Wraith shook his head to clear it of the aroma as he placed a boot onto the collar bone and stared at the creature that had created him, given him memories of his past, this was his god, the muse called c.m. A god that he hated so much right now. It was hard to believe that something that looked so peaceful while asleep could become the wicked evil that plagued the creations when awake.

He slept with his other hand over his head and mouth slightly open, the part that really mattered to the tour guide was that the muse had his head turned perfectly to expose his neck. In fact, all this was too perfect; he looked to the bandages that hid away the muse’s blind eyes. How did he know if he was really asleep, ready to grab and crush him at the last minute? He didn’t, he had nothing to lose.

He stared down at the muse, he let that fact empower him, help him to forget that he was some down on his luck tour guide that had been reduced to a humiliating 4 inches and about to do something that most likely would get him killed. Instead, he believed he was a hero, the same hero his late daughter had called him when he came to her hospital room dressed in the black and white coat of a tour guide.           

A hero that would avenge the family this monster took from him and save the future of his new growing family with Medi that it was now threatening.

“Four inches tall and you're still the heroic tour guide.”

Her words flowed through his mind, giving him strength and determination as he pulled the needle from his coat, gripping it in both hands as he raised it over his head. In his mind, he wasn’t raising a humble needle of bone but a shining white blade soon to be stained with the blood of his enemy.

The moment before striking, he remembered their faces, their names. This was for all the loved ones he had lost, for all the ones waiting for him to come back. They gave him courage while the muse fueled his anger. This was for Allison and Bree. For Medi and his unborn children. This was for them. Through gritted teeth, he whispered.

“Change me back you bastard.” And plunged the needle deep into the pale flesh of the muse’s neck.

All hell broke loose and Wraith realized what a horrible idea this was.

He was violently flung across the bed, never getting a chance to pull his only weapon from its current resting place. He rolled towards the edge of the bed, barely managing to gasp a handful of blanket to keep himself from falling straight to the floor. His hand burning as he tried to slow his decent but still hit the ground hard. He lay on the floor groaning in pain but the sound of an enraged muse thrashing on the bed top drove his mind straight into panic. Quickly he rolled under the bed, mentally kicking himself for not running to the balcony to escape on dragon back as he had planned before.

Soon the thrashing stilled, the only sound audible to the cowering tour guide was the sound of his own heart beat thumping in his chest and soft creaking of the bed springs above as the muse shifted his weight. Cold fear washed over Wraith as the muse growled.

“Tour guide.”

There was no point in hiding anymore, the muse was already very much aware that he was there and knew exactly where he was hiding. Though blind, the muse harbored some unknown ability that allowed him to see everywhere and anything in his domain. Not only that, the muse also could feel the emotion of his creations. Fear, which Wraith was sure that must have been pouring off him in waves, would act like a beacon and attract the muse like a powerful drug.

Darting out from under the bed, the tour guide made a mad dash to the balcony. The curtains billowed gently, giving him hope as the doorway to freedom was still open. Wraith never knew what hit him, flying a few feet, a considerable distance compared to his size, as the muse backhanded his small frame. Skidding across the floor and the blow leaving him breathless he managed to scramble under wardrobe just as the muse slammed into the large piece of furniture.

Wraith press his back against the wall as the muse started slashing at the woodwork, snarling and hissing as his claws gouged deep furrows into the wood and littered the ground in splinters. He had gone completely feral; a terrifying primal state that know one could predict just what he would do. It was only a matter of time before the muse simply knocked the whole wardrobe over the get at his little attacker.

Wraith made another blind run, keeping close to the wall. The muse struck, slamming his hand against the fleeing man and pinning him to the wall with such pressure that he feared his freshly healed ribs would break again. The two stayed like that for a minute, the muse quietly growling and lips drawn back in a snarl, showing off the muse’s long canines.

Wraith swallowed nervously as the muse seemed to wait for his own fury to subside. He noted blood on the muses hand, not his own blood but that of the muse. Blood welled on the protruding end of the needle and slowly dripped onto the stark white floor, shining like a precious ruby. Lacking dexterity the muse’s claws had failed to grasp the needle in his attempt to pull it out. It was a small victory but it was one that Wraith would take.       

“So, what did you hope to gain in this foolish endeavor?” The muse’s voice was practically dripping with cold venom that sent chills down the man’s spine. The muse may have calmed down now but only meant he had full control of his most powerful weapon, a silver tongue that could cut deeper than any blade.  

Wraith took a calming breath; fear would only give c power over him. “Was hoping to make a point.” He said calmly while at the same time avoiding the muse’s hidden gaze.

“So I see, and were you really hoping to gain favor?” He questioned before growling lowly at the man. “Especially after violating my inner sanctum and attacking me in the night like the cowardly insect that you are?”

Wraith almost made the comment that it was always night here but thought better of it.

“I just want to be normal again.” He muttered quietly.  

“Normal?” The muse let out a short bark of laugher before grinning in amusement. “You short sight little fool. This is normal for you now, punishment for your shameful attack on me. Tell me? How does it feel to condemn your family to a life without you?”

“I’ll still be there for them!” Wraith snapped at the muse, finally gathering the nerve to stare at the white bandages that hid away the muse’s dead eyes.

“But will you really?” The muse questioned, lips pulled back into a sharp-toothed grin. “Look at yourself. Powerless, helpless, a useless insignificant speck of an insect. You can’t help them, if anything you’ll be a burden to them.” He sneered.

"All this wouldn’t matter if you would just change me back!" Wraith retorted. He really couldn’t see why the muse felt the need to drag this whole situation out for this long.

“And I told you I’m not changing you back.” c.m. paused, looking away in brief thought before turning back to the trapped tour guide. “I was going to when I felt time was right but now you felt the need to take matters in your own hands and rebel against me.”

“Look at me!” Wraith gestured his head downwards as his struggled against the muses hand and yelled. “I’m four God damn inches tall! That hardly counts as a serious act of rebellion against you.”       

“Better to nip things like this in the bud.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

Wraith bit back a gasp of pain as c.m. pressed his hand harder into the wall while snarling. “I can do whatever I want with you, I am the muse of this world and your creator, your god!

“An egotistical maniac is what you are! Just stop being a control freak and let me go back to her like I should be.”

“You don’t seem to understand,” c.m. muttered. “This is permanent.” He said slowly and moved closer. Cold dread washed over Wraith at the muses next words. “I will never change you back.”

The tour guide stared blankly at the muse, refusing to believe what he had just heard. “You can’t be serious,” Shaking his head in disbelief before finally screaming at the muse. “I know you’re a liar c, you always lie!”

Wraith stopped when he looked at the muse, c.m. carried a stern look and despite the bandages, his eyes seemed to stare right through him.

“I assure you I am not lying.” c.m. said. It was an almost gentle and matter of fact tone. Wraiths heart felt like it would stop beating right then and there. The muse finally let go of the distraught tour guide and began walking away without a word. Wraith fell to his knees, any strength in his legs had long since given out and only the pressure of the muses hand had kept him standing.  

Numbly he stared at the floor, balling his fist together before struggling to his feet. “Fine then, I don’t care what you do to me. As long as I can still protect them. She still needs me, my kids need me.” He said quietly as he followed the muse towards the balcony.

The muse stopped, turning to watch the tour guide catch up to him. “It’s high time that you woke up from your little delusions of heroism, you’re not a hero and you never were.” He said in a bored tone.

“She thinks I am.”  The tour guide whispered quietly, her words drifted through his mind and brought a small comforting smile to his face. The smile didn’t last long as the muse let out an exasperated sigh.

“She tells you that to feed your dwindling self confidence.” c.m. said, beginning to walk in slow and lazy circles around Wraith. The tour guide kept his eyes downwards to avoid watching the towering muse as he attempted to further intimidate the man with his size alone.

“In time her views will change, she’ll see that her black and white guardian has become some scurrying little toy that needs to be constantly looked after. What will happen when the kids come? She cannot watch over them and you. In addition, you cannot even help her raise the spawn you’ve afflicted her with. She may even come to resent you for that.”

Gritting his teeth Wraith wished he were normal sized, never had he wanted to punch someone square in the jaw for accusing his sweet medic of being someone petty like that. “She’ll wouldn’t, she would never hate me.”

“You may be right.”  c.m. stated, tilting his head in thought. “Not much hate in that one, though she has told me she hated me once or twice.” He said with a grin, after what he had done to her tour guide the muse felt he would have a long ways to go before getting into the medics good graces again.

‘Gee, I wonder why?’ Wraith thought bitterly.

“Anyways, I don’t care if it comes to that; I’ll stay with her for as long as she’ll have me.”

The muse stopped and stared at the tiny tour guide. “Until something better comes?” He said with a grin.

“You… you mean another man?” The words has left such a bitter taste in Wraith’s mouth that he regretted saying them. No, no something like that would never happen.

“In essence yes.” c.m. moved to crouch down before the tour guide. “Think of it as this, if the kids were young enough, anyone could be called their father if he’s the one raising them.”

Utterly stunned the tour guide looked up at the massive muse.

“But, but they’re my kids.” He stammered.

The muse let out an indignant snort. “Please, do you think she would admit you as the father? She said it herself that it would rather bothersome to explain why their father is a toy.” c.m. paused, a wicked grin forming on his face “Maybe they’ll be nice enough to keep you around as a pet for them, all you’re really good for now.”

“She’s not that cruel.” He muttered quietly as anger once again flared within and caused him to glare up at c.m. “And you can’t deny me a chance to be happy!”

“And would you deny the medic and your children someone that could protect them and make them happy?” c.m. retorted casually.

Wraith simply stood there in silence as he looked at the ground. There was no denying it; he would do anything for them.

“What about your family?” Wraith asked. “Archer and the kids you have with him? It’s the same thing Medi and I am going through.”

The muse tilted his head in thought, it was true that the muse had taken a lover much smaller than himself, four inches to be exact, and with some creative surgery, the two had managed to give birth to twin half-breed muses of their own. But all that was a story for another time.

“You’re comparing apples to oranges tour guide. I am a muse and the dominated partner in my relationship; I do not need to be protected by my smaller companion. And my children have proven themselves to be more than capable of taking care of themselves.” A proud smile showed itself on c.m.’s face, his two little girls had actually usurped an entire city from another full-blooded muse that held a bitter vendetta against his little family. What a fun little outing that had been.

Wraith stood in a contemplative stupor, was this really happening to him, grinding his teeth as the thought of once again losing his family loomed on the horizon. “Not again, please, not this again.” He whispered. He didn’t even have the will the run as the muse reach out and scooped up the man easily into his palm and began walking out onto the balcony.

“Face the facts tour guide, you can’t protect them, you couldn’t even protect your first family. You will always be a failed protector; its how I designed you to be. The best thing you could ever do for them is to let them go.”

At that point the really didn’t care anymore, all he wanted was to be with his medic again, he didn’t care if he was 6 feet or 6 inches, he just wanted to with her instead of the muses hands. He huddled into a small ball as thoughts circulated through his mind, flinching as the muse idly stroked his back with a claw.

 He would go back to her; he would stay with her for as long as she would have him. And if the time came, when the time came it would be easy to disappear, to simply fade from their memory. In a ways he really would be like a pet, the pet that ran away, the pet that you never knew what happened to but always hoping for the best while deep down you would know they they’re lost to you forever.

He could feel pressure building, the wracking pain in his chest that caused his body to shake and shudder. He didn’t even know if he had the guts to say goodbye to her, one thing he was certain of though. He would leave her the lucky fox, the toy fox that saved his daughter from illness, the fox that saved his life when the bomb decimated his supply caravan and left him the soul survivor. He would leave it to her, to them; it would his last gift. It would be the best way he could protect them.  

He cringed as the muse ran his claw down his back; he could hear the muse’s whispered voice as he leaned closer to the breaking tour guide.

“Let it go Wraith, it’s just you and me here.”

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, as hot tears burned in his eyes and his hands clutched at his short sandy colored hair, he screamed.

As the tour guide screams echoed from the balcony, the muse smiled. Wandering into the moonlight the muse used his powers of creation to form a plush armchair that overlooked the forested mountain terrain of his home. Leaning back into the chair, the muse settled to enjoy the intense waves of complex emotions the broken creation produced for as long as he could.

Which to the muse’s displeasure did not turn out to be that long, he could feel the energy in the air shifting that only he could sense. Normally this energy would be evenly dispersed throughout his world but it was coming together and concentrating into one single point, a point that was right behind him.

His other half of the mind they shared had arrived.

He felt her fingers attentively touch the spot on his neck where the needle still was stuck, seeking to pull it out. The muse simply waved her hand away with his own clawed hand. “Leave it, it’ll add to the drama later.” He stated calmly.

“I still can’t believe you let him stab you.” n.s. said in amusement, which the muse simply shrugged.

“The price a great actor pays for playing their own stunts.” c.m. stared out into the darkness, the shadowed world beyond the barrier of his world that he guarded. His voice became distant and hallow. “Besides, I’ve been through worse.”

n.s. shook her head as she came around the chair and leaned onto the railing. “Doesn’t Ben hate needles?” She asked and turned to her muse, white bandages meeting with the baleful yellow orbs of Marjora’s mask that she had crafted with her own hands and used to hide her away her face.

c.m. grinned. “I do believe he does. Anyways, nice touch with the deus ex machina.” The muse said as he pointed to the small pink dragon hiding away near the railings.

The struggling writer rolled her eyes behind her mask. “Oh, shove off c.” she said with a huff. “You know he would have never made it if I hadn’t sent Mercy to help him.” The dragon hearing her name came out of hiding and flew to the writer and lazily draped over her shoulder. n.s. quietly gave the little dragon a scratch under the chin before startling as the small tour guide began screaming in the muse’s hand again.

n.s. quickly moved to inspect the man while her dragon flew off. She stared sadly at the sobbing man her muse held. He was curled up tightly as his hands grasped at the hood he had pulled over his head, struggling the pull it down even further.

“Please… Aislinn, I’m so sorry. Wait for me. Please, don’t leave me behind.” The poor man was trapped in a delusional spell of the muse’s designed to play on the fear of abandonment. The writer and muse looked up at one another; c.m. could see the sad blue eyes behind the yellow lenses tear up as she felt the wave of emotion hit them both.

“We’re horrible people aren’t we?” She whispered quietly to c.m.

The muse simply shook his head while he ran the edge of his claw along the tour guide tear stained cheek. “You maybe, as a muse I could care less what I do to them.” c.m. raised his claw in the air, a small tear drop that only he could see clung the tip and shined under the moons light. “But you can’t deny that you don’t enjoy this feeling as much as I do.” The muse slowly ran his tongue along the length of his claw and purred as the bandages over his eyes began to dampen. The emotion of the tour guides becoming his own. “This feeling of complete and utter despair, truly it is a delicacy among your human emotions.”

The writer disregarded her muse, gently touching her fingertips to Wraith’s shoulders, flinching slightly as he grabbed onto her as if his life depended on it. Desperately seeking some comfort other than the muse’s hand. She took the man into her hands, rubbing his back reassuringly as she spoke to the muse.

“Come on c, they’ve waited long enough. Let’s bring him home.”

The muse groaned slightly as he rose from his chair and allowed his Other the open his coat and place the small tour guide in the inside pocket. Together the two walked back into c.m.’s room, heading for the door in the back. To c.m. it was a door that he could make lead to anywhere he desired but only his Other had the power to make it lead to somewhere beyond their mental world, to a neutral meeting ground they called the Room.

It was in there where they could finally put to rest Wraith’s odyssey.