Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Possessed (4 of ?)

There was a huge discrepancy in their personalities.

Neiro was a playful and carefree soul, and Silas a misanthrope and sardonic realist.

But the Time for familiarity was over, something else had taken precedence.

"Sy." He nudged the brunette and received a discontented grumble in return, "Lend me your strength."

Silas sat up slowly, eyes narrowing at him, "Do I have any say in the matter?"

A sigh, "Unfortunately not."

"This is just going to end up like every other attempt you've made."

"Perhaps."

His Host studied him before closing his eyes and withdrawing.

With a grateful nod, Muspell allowed his consciousness to slip away, until he had eyes with which to open.

Silas's unease was oppressing, but he couldn't fault him. Relinquishing control to some echo of Aether was a dangerous thing. Nonetheless, the other's eyes slipped shut and the brunette took the backseat.

"Thank you, my friend."

Ophidians are not known for their warmth, and the derogation of cold-blooded had basis in both the biological roots of those of serpentine descent, and the disposition of guarded indifference typical to which the scaled sentients carried themselves. For those who lived lives that far exceeded the affairs of the lower races and their fleeting lifespans of which but were a flicker beside their inferno, they oft but felt little. 

In this Muspell was an oddity, earnest and of open heart, his emotions so lively and plainly in sight.

And it was with the same that he yielded to Silas now, and when he felt the other recede still, was grateful.

"Do what you need to and be done with it."

So gentle and unassuming. In the face of Silas's assertiveness he had, like a slip of paper to the wind, been brushed aside.

Silas grimaced and forced himself to relax.

Sensing the other quieting down, Muspell's hurried off and rounded another corner, elated as he felt the pulse of Aether.

And then he was home, "Neiro."

"What's up Sy?"

There he was. His old friend of ages past so close, and most of all, within reach. Muspell stepped fully into the shared housing. He couldn't wait, "Neiro, it's me."

Confusion flashed across the familiar face of his friend before a goofy grin spread on his lips, "It's you!"

Muspell chuckled, and his inflection gave the other pause.

There was a moment of bemusement in the other's countenance before his jaw went slack, "Muspell?"

Neiro's large eyes blinked, disbelief plastered over them, but there was no mistake, peering into the Aether he felt the familiar presence that he couldn't forget even after all this Time.

He staggered as the Numen nearly knocked him off his feet, arms wound tight around his mid.

"Muspell..."

Slowly, the Yggdrasill returned the gesture and greeted the other fondly, "Neiro."

It was a bit strange, to feel the other so small in his arms and the thought of the puppet's cherubic face brought a chuckle, "To think that I would meet you in such a diminutive form."

Neiro for his part, was suitably abashed, and grinned up at him with colored cheeks, shrugging helplessly.

The Numen brought their faces close and pressed their temple together.

The seed felt the familiar warmth wash over him and gave a small nod.

Neiro rifled through, and hummed as the dark pockets of memory were now filled, lit with the memories, the information that had for so long been devoid. Dark pockets that had been filled with the uncertainty that came with the unknown.

Through the remnants that had lain dormant in the ring, did he awaken with Esti's own lucidity. It certainly explained much as to why the Amphisbaena had grown restless.

"I've missed you too Neiro." It was odd to hear such unmasked emotion in a melodic lilt instead of Silas's slighted monotone, and the warmth in his eyes made him look a stranger. Then again the body was a mere vessel, it was the mind that made the person. He gave his old friend a once over, from his expression to the way he held himself, it was very different from Sy.

How he had missed such a sight, though many Times he had turned back the hourglass to glimpse upon his dear friend.

Just then Muspell grasped his hand, "But the Time for reminiscing is past. It's Time to move on, my dear Numen."

"Muspell--"

Muspell dropped their gaze, eyes slipping shut and a smile on his lips, "The Seed has been sown, it has passed to the next generation. Ken will attest to it."

For the longest Time Neiro was silent, Muspell tried to be patient, but he himself was laboring to remain conscious in his Host.

"I'll never forget you."

Muspell blinked, and smiled, "Perhaps... It would be better if you had."

"To forget you would be to forget whatever 'self' is here now."

And suddenly he was staring at the face of his old friend as he towered above him. It was as if things were as they were back then. 

A dangerous illusion that his Heart ached to believe true.

But be was here on borrowed Time. There was no place, no Time, for him now.

The Ophidian shook his head, "You're shackling yourself to the past. If our Time meant anything to you, then please. It's Time to let go."

For a moment the cold indifference sent a chill through him, and he was reminded of the true nature of the entity before him, "Nothing of the sort."

A tearful laugh broke from him, "You say that even as your form changes! How you put forth a pretense of strength if but to ease me." he reached up to trace along the temple, hand resting on the Numen's cheek, "It's Time to let go, Neiro. Release the Amphisbaena that your soul may finally know peace."

"Your Aether permits me to mingle. That I live on experiencing life as you so wished for."

The former Yggdrasill sighed, "Enough Neiro. I wont last long, the remnant that anchors my aether is almost gone." he looked Neiro in the eye, determined, "I have but the strength to see this out. Please, before my aethor has reached the limit of expenditure."

But Neiro remained steadfast, staring down at the Ophidian.

Muspell shook his head, sighing, "You keep my Aethor close, like a barbed hook that but buries itself deeper. Please Neiro, I can't rest easy, with you hurting so. And over me of all things! Can't you see what is around you now?"

The grip on his shoulder tensed, but again the Numen was impassive, "I see all."

"Yet you didn't see me."

At this Neiro faltered and something almost fearful crossed his eyes. It pained him to see his friend so uncertain, and afraid. Like a child who had lost their way, and no differently would he have to lead them into the light. It tore at the Yggdrasill to see such stark fear, how afraid Neiro was at the mere thought that they had almost missed one another. So close, yet unable to hear his plea. But the Seed pressed on, "You couldn't see me, could you? A whole morning."

No response, but he could tell the Numen was struggling. There was a ripple in his Aethor, a change as it suddenly stilled and coiled, poised, as if ready to strike, to lash out.

Still he continued, "Do you know why you, with your infinite eyes and very essence of aether, could not see me?"

"..."

By his countenance they both knew. But it needed to be said.

"You have so deeply shrouded yourself in my Aethor, mimicked it so closely, that it is as if it was your own. Nay, is your own. With the small fragment within the Amphisbaena forever by your side, and so strongly did you yearn and copy, that there is nary a difference in our aether. For the aetherical signature you lack, mine own has taken place."

The look on his face had changed. And he stared up at the opal eyes, entranced by the expressions that now danced across them. Expressions he had so long ago went to great lengths to draw out of the staggering apathy.

Few he could name, and fewer still he could truly comprehend.

With a deep breath, he spoke the last of his mind, quietly and with a note of finality. "A cliched saying of the past it may be, but no less true. I am a part of you Neiro. I will live on in you."

At last there was a small nod, and the Numen raised his head to meet his gaze. What he saw there he would never forget.

He stared up at the other's eyes, burning this memory as deeply into himself as he could. The glow of evening light on his hair, the slight anxious furrow of his brows. The eyes that told so much, and yet so little.

Slowly he began, a gentle whisper to the winds. Gently, another rose with his and their melodies resonated.

The leaves danced in the zephyr's still, and when at last the light grew meek, did the voiceless solo trail off in a last solemn twirl.

Silas came to with his head pounding. But it wasn't to the bedroom ceiling, instead he stared uncomfortably at the stranger holding his form close.

When the form in his arms tensed, he knew his dear friend was truly gone, but even as Silas made to pull away did he cling tighter still, "Please. Just for a little."

Let me stay here but a moment longer.

A grimace crossed his face. The choice wasn't truly his to make. Contrary to the strong front, his body had grown with as the illness progressed.

He couldn't bear to pull away, to confront with his own eyes the finality of his passing. Holding the other close, he could pretend for a little longer that it was Muspell still there with him.

After the light had long gone, and only when a chill had settled in the now dark room, and a shiver passed through him, did the man reluctantly part with him.

Silas stepped back uneasily as he stared at the stranger, "Who are you."

Now that there was some distance between them he studied them carefully. His height seemed somewhat unnatural, but he didn't seem to have the same symptoms that plagued his own body.

"Oh, sorry Sy!"

The sudden change from the stern voice before startled him, more so that it was one he was all too familiar with.

And suddenly it was Neiro standing there, grinning sheepishly and rubbing at the back of his head, the astral manifestation dissipated. His flatmate tapped at his wristband, a projection of the records of his heart rate and other such information shining on the display.

"What were you doing using a projection from an astral pod?" Silas scowled, brows knit and contemplating why he felt perturbed and whether or not he should retire early that night.

"Huh. I thought you said you wanted to try out examining the vitals while maintaining Astral form and contact?" Neiro shrugged, "Y'know, testing the physical strain of maintaining superficial manipulations and all that." He glanced at the a nearby retro clock and hummed, "An hour and a half. Not bad, the strain made you black out though. I'm amazed you regained consciousness so quickly. Want me to send you the data?"

Something wasn't adding up, but the unrelenting ache in his skull wasn't letting up. The prospect of heading off early seemed rather enticing at the moment.

Eyes imploring, Neiro waited patiently, until receiving an affirmative nod, "I'll take a look at it later. I'm turning in for the night."

"Alright. Meet you downstairs." Neiro grinned and Silas gave him a nod back before dissipating.

Off he darted towards the underground.

For once dreading his arrival. The Numen closed his eyes. He could still see Muspell's gentle features and gaze, was seeing it in fact, as he turned back the hourglass.

As much as he despised feeling so, for it was unfair to Silas, he couldn't help the slight loathing and disappointment when the man would look up at him, decrepit eyes void of the warmth of the dear Ophidian.

At the least Silas would remember none of it. It was to his advantage that Muspell's aether took with it all its essence, including that which mingled with the Invalid's memories.