The Demon Lord and his Hero (BL)

Out of the several annoying problems associated with going through puberty a second time, what Syryn hated most were the random mornings he woke up sporting tented pants.

From the minimal amount of light getting through the curtains, he couldn't tell how late in the morning it was. Syryn sat up on his end of the bed and remembered he had a guest sleeping with him. Turning to look at Sebastian had been a mistake.

Stripped of the clothing that had seen a sweaty bar that night, Sebastian's upper body was gloriously exposed to a wretched teenager. Mercifully, a blanket covered his lower body. He hadn't guessed wrong about the beautiful musculature that the mage possessed.

Syryn turned away with a sigh. It was hard being a teenager again. The alchemist knew his boner wouldn't be going away without him doing something about it so he slunk off for a bath and some time alone with himself.

"Good morning, Syryn," a cute redhead greeted him in the kitchen. Without giving it much thought, Syryn placed a quick kiss on Luci's head. The child had come home from classes one day, asking to be given a kiss on his head like he had seen a mother do for one of his classmates. With a smidgen of awkwardness, Syryn had complied. Now, it was just business as usual.

Rewarded with a radiant smile, the alchemist basked in the ray of sunshine that Lucien was. "I made breakfast this morning," the boy informed the alchemist. Luci was turning 12 very soon and his height was no joking matter. Syryn wasn't short by any means but Lucien was taller than the alchemist had been at the same age. And just like Syryn, Luci grew his hair out and used a spelled ribbon that Salem had given him. Luci's was a leaf green colour that paired prettily with his autumn flame hair. The baby fat on his cheeks was already dramatically reducing, contouring out a delicate bone structure that gave a peek into what Lucien would look like in a few years.

"Luci, don't you think you need an illusion? At least until you're powerful enough to defend yourself from... unnecessary attention." With Luci's history, Syryn was unwilling to expose the child to more negative experiences with child kidnappers.

"No, Red and I are perfectly capable of defending me," he smiled at the alchemist and turned back to cracking an egg into a shallow oiled pan.

Syryn believed it. The redhead had over the years absorbed lessons on magic and fighting from several teachers that included Syryn, Magnus, and Salem. And after that disastrous kidnapping episode, Luci had become more comfortable with using his skills to kill. The one person that he learnt most from was Red, and Syryn shuddered to think of exactly what was being taught. Aside from Necromancy, the alchemist knew of a few of Red's sinister abilities that found purpose in torture. Glancing up at the cheery boy who had none of the darkness that clung to Red, Syryn felt a sense of dissonance.

In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind Lucien.

Syryn's teeth gleamed as he smiled down at the redhead who had a kitchen knife pressed to the alchemist's throat. Humour danced in red eyes and the pointed end of the knife bit into Syryn's skin, drawing out a bead of blood.

"Syryn, what game are we playing today?" The redhead asked.

"We're playing surprise Luci, and you've won."

Syryn turned back to his cooling breakfast, content with knowing that Luci was becoming quite formidable. He had seen all but a blur of movement when he had snuck up on the redhead.

Still thinking about Lucien, Syryn abruptly sidestepped when his senses warned him of danger.

The knife he had just dodged was stuck an inch deep in the wood of their table. How hard had Luci thrown?! Syryn whirled around and raised his brows at the redhead.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Lucien?"

Luci's smile was mischievous. "I wasn't trying to kill you, I swear."

"Red, it's you, isn't it?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The most terrifying development in the child so far was Red's ability to act perfectly like Luci. Some days, Syryn couldn't tell the difference between the two if Red chose to be Luci.

A flash of his canines was the answer that Syryn received And like a stage actor, Lucien was all sunny smiles when he caught sight of an approaching fire mage.

Magnus had been gone all day and night attending to a guild task. He was covered in mud, and stank to the high heavens. The fire mage stopped at the doorway to sheepishly explain what had happened to him.

"Yeah I know, I smell like a sewer," he directed his speech to Lucien because Syryn was pretending to ignore him. "I was out killing an ogre. There were piles of ogre shit and rotting animal carcasses everywhere. I had to even wade through an infested swamp to get to its cave."

Syryn ate his meal, not sparing a single glance for the fire mage. It was easier to ignore Magnus because the alternative was an argument.

"I'll get you a bucket of water," Luci volunteered sympathetically.

"He needs more than a bucket of water," Riha blandly said to the boy just as he arrived at the kitchen. "Give him some of Salem's disinfectant and a bar of the harshest soap you have." The smell of ozone followed the selkie's quiet entrance.

Magnus was made to stand outside and wait for the shower that Riha summoned. It didn't take long for the clouds to weep upon the fire mage who promptly stripped and tossed his clothes away for later burning.

"Ya know, it's not the right season for rain,"

Sebastian also made his presence known to the housemates. His eyes stopped briefly but with sharpness on the selkie before flitting away to the redhead who was back to frying more eggs.

"You and yer brother hit the genetic lottery didn't ya?"

Syryn chewed on some bacon that Luci had rolled into a tube with cheese and spice. It was delicious. He could taste Alka's influence in the child's cooking.

"Seems like it," Syryn replied to the mage.

The rain had abated. In walked a Magnus with only a towel around his waist. The fire mage was turning 19 - a fact that annoyed Red. Sometimes, Magnus came home smelling like someone else and it grated on Red. Magnus was an adult and found his fun like hot-blooded men of his age were wont to do. It wasn't anything that Red could fault him over. The redhead hoped that none of the one night stands proved good enough to become a full-time partner.

"Where's Lumi?" Syryn asked Riha.

"He's flying," the selkie answered, "exercising his wings with Aya."

Magnus walked past the group and grabbed Luci in a bear hug because he had been gone for too long and needed to squeeze little Lucien - his source of therapy. The child was smothered by the fire mage's towering form and Syryn was appalled at how oblivious Magnus was. The bright red cheeks on Luci's face as he pushed the mage away should have clued him in on the red head's little crush.

Poor Luci, Syryn thought. Magnus still considered him a baby, which he was, of course. But he was now more teen than a baby. Luci's first crush and it had to be the much older man whose sexuality was still a mystery to Syryn. Which side of the fence did Magnus play at? At the very least, Red and Luci were in accord about the person they liked. Syryn imagined the consequences of the two individuals falling for different people. Messy, maybe violent even, he thought.

"I haven't seen Salem for a while," Syryn told Riha. "Did he say anything about where he was going?"

"Not really," Riha replied. "I was only told that he was going on a trip and wouldn't be back for a week."

The alchemist couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with his curse. From what he had gleaned off the blonde, he knew that Salem had made two more kills. Syryn had watched him for days and ascertained that the blonde's mental condition appeared stable and normal. Had Syryn been wrong?

"I see," he replied.

"I'm goin' home S'ryn. I'll be back in the evenin' if you aren't too tired for another night out."

Sebastian hadn't had breakfast yet but he didn't seem to be in the mood for it.

"I'm rested enough to venture out again," Syryn said to the mage.

"No drinkin'."

"Agreed."

The mystery of the missing pill still confounded Sebastian. There was no way he had lost the pill. If untox had been used, why did he have no memory of it? The mage hadn't given much thought before to how his mind had been sharp and clear while he was chasing the squid. He had attributed it to adrenaline but now Sebastian wasn't so sure anymore.

A few nights of stalking Rum district proved a futile task. No more dead mages, no squid movement, and no clues to be found. Sebastian slept in Syryn's bed every one of those nights. It led to the younger man's decision for a room to be cleaned out immediately. There were only so many lucky mornings Syryn could have before an inevitable encounter between his bedmate and Syryn's morning wood. It was a natural bodily function but it didn't mean Syryn wasn't ashamed of it being seen. He wanted to ask Magnus just how the boy had managed to avoid awkwardness with Lucien. Sharing the bed with someone else was stressful.

Artemus returned exactly 8 days after his departure. The inquesters had submitted their report and an investigation was opened. From the number of mage hunters sent out to look for leads, it was apparent just how seriously they viewed this incident. Artemus was appointed the lead inquisitor but the appointment was kept under wraps for reasons that included his maintaining a low profile.

Syryn was in his workroom catching up on fulfilling the new orders that came from his hard-working employee. When Artemus arrived, his red cloak billowing behind him with the haste of someone who had a lot to do, the alchemist welcomed him enthusiastically. With the lull in the squid case, Syryn was practically vibrating from excitement to have more information about the caravan murders

.

"I've signed you up as a consultant in the investigation," Artemus breezed past Syryn and slammed a thick file of papers onto the counter.

"When I return tomorrow, I expect you to have read and understood everything inside here. The information inside it is highly sensitive and includes the identities of the dead."

"Why me?" Syryn tentatively asked. He was good at alchemy and had a few other talents that had nothing to do with investigative work. Although he had volunteered, Syryn hadn't expected to get involved. Where did Artemus get the confidence to think that Syryn would contribute in any meaningful way?

The anti mage raised his brows at Syryn, "you don't want to be a part of the investigation?"

"I want to. I'm not sure how I can help."

"Don't worry about that." Artemus occupied one of the several high stools next to the counter. When he looked at the alchemist expectantly, Syryn realised what he was waiting for.

The alchemist injected magic into a slot in the correct drawer and pulled it open. The phial was exactly where he had stored it.

"You can drink it now," Syryn held out the black coloured liquid to the anti mage.

"No side effects?" Artemus asked. His wariness was not without cause. After the experience he had undergone with Syryn's potion, the anti mage was left with minor mental trauma. At that time, he had been completely certain he was dying.

"None," Syryn assured him. "Drink."

Long pale fingers popped open the cork with a grace that had no place showing up in such a mundane activity. Artemus lifted the potion to his lips and with a flourish, the black liquid went pouring down his throat in a torrent of heat and something awful. The anti mage was immediately aware of a strange sensation akin to bugs crawling under his skin.

"You said-" the anti mage wore a look like he'd never been betrayed so hard in his life. The rest of his words were choked off by a constriction in his airway.

It took a fraction of a second for Syryn to understand what was happening. Heart in his throat, the alchemist rushed back to his drawer and pulled out an assortment of items. "Sand feather is an extremely rare ingredient, and it's even rarer for it to cause a negative reaction when consumed. When it does-" a pause. He found what he needed. "-You're very unlucky, Artemus."

The anti mage resisted the urge to dig into his skin and remove the army of bugs that were crawling underneath. He could not focus on the words that the alchemist was speaking but he heard the parts that helped him understand what was happening to his body.

"-pen your mouth-" Artemus felt cool fingers trying to push something between his lips. It was sweet and soft. The anti mage opened his mouth and licked it right off the fingers that tasted like the thing that was melting on his tongue.

The reaction to his action was swift. Syryn's fingers jolted away from Artemus' mouth. The warm tongue licking at his skin had sent a bucket of ice down his spine. The alchemist hid the tingling fingers behind his back and waited for his patient to show signs of recovery.

"Was that cave honey?"

Syryn sighed in relief when Artemus spoke to him. The worst was over. In the history of medicine, only 9 people had ever experienced this adverse reaction to sand feather. Artemus was the unlucky number 10, and his name could be added to the books.

"Yes. Are you feeling better?" Syryn's heart was still racing from what had just happened. He had killed plenty of patients that were forced to undergo his experiments but this man wasn't someone Syryn could afford to kill. Neither his heart nor his conscience - if he had one - was ready for the consequences of killing the anti mage.

"Much better. What exactly happened?" He was calmer than Syryn had anticipated.

"Nothing you should worry about. Next time, let your healer know that you can't have any sand feather in your medicines. Your body doesn't like it."

"Why would I go to another healer when I have you?" Artemus asked with a pointed glance that suggested what he thought of Syryn's advice.

"I almost killed you," the alchemist blurted out.

"But you didn't."

"If I didn't have a comb of cave honey with me-"

"Then you'd have found another way to save me."

The alchemist was blown away by the trust Artemus had placed in his abilities. No one aside from Luci had ever placed so much faith in him. Artemus was right though, Syryn had a plan B for him if the cave honey hadn't worked.

"Am I cured?" The anti mage asked.

Syryn slowly nodded. He had almost killed Artemus. He should have tested him before administering the sand feather infused concoction. "It'll take a few days for the potion to completely eradicate what the glacial sword left inside you."

The anti mage could see past Syryn's facade of false composure. With a low sigh, Artemus resisted the urge to leave for the meeting he was getting late for.

"You said I'm unlucky but I say you're wrong, Syryn. I am a very lucky man to have met you. Without you in my life, I'd already have died by now." Artemus spoke with solemn gravity. "Put away that guilt and use it instead for the many times you broke my heart." And here he smiled.

Syryn was rendered speechless.

"Do you remember what I told you that night when you'd asked me to kiss you?" The anti mage looked into Syryn's eyes and held it in a hypnotic gaze.

The alchemist remembered it with clarity because those words had churned something hot and fierce in him that night.

'Syryn, when I kiss you next time, it'll be when your body is all grown and ready for everything else I'll be doing to you.' How could he forget?

The alchemist nodded. He felt his heart pull in opposing directions. "I remember."

The anti mage slowly carded his fingers through Syryn's hair, brushing past the back of his neck and pulling him closer. "Do you still want it?"

The mage closed his eyes. Artemus was so beautiful and Syryn wanted him.

His answer to the anti mage came as a question.

"Artemus, do you think we could love each other completely and without reserve?" Syryn was sure in his heart who he loved. But could he unlove Rowan enough to give it to Artemus? No.

The anti mage went still. Saying yes to the question was dishonesty. He couldn't do it.

Syryn smiled. He wasn't the only one then.

"Is it Sebastian?" Syryn asked him.

"No," the answer came too quick to the anti mage's lips. Too reflexive. Too rehearsed. Did Artemus practise in the mirror?

"Okay," Syryn replied. Denial was comfort.

The anti mage's searching eyes seemed to stare into Syryn's soul. Accepting the answer that he saw there, Artemus exhaled, letting go of something that he should have freed a long time ago.

"For the boy who wanted a real kiss that night, forgive me Syryn," Artemus inched closer and softly murmured to him. "It'll be our last so I'll make it good."

Syryn closed his eyes and filled himself with the rich scent of fragrant ink.

Artemus' last kiss wasn't chaste. The anti mage poured out his devotion into the melding of their lips. It was passionate, intense, and slow - like he wanted to imprint on Syryn's lips a phantom of what they could have had. It tasted like honey and burnt hot into the melancholy that enveloped their injured hearts.

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