Chapter 6 - We Both Needed Therapy
With this imagined goal in his mind, Phos felt a lot better. He tilted his head to watch his feet as he slid off of his bed, nearly wobbling to the ground but managing to find his balance in time. One hand guided him against the wall as Phos made his way to the exit of his sunlit cottage.
He was ready to go out, to warn Nymph of her abusive crush, to simply bask in his newfound freedom. He could practically feel the warmth of the Sun on his face.
But when his hand gently turned the door handle, pushing it open, Phos found a certain silver-haired man kneeling on his doormat.
"..."
"Kass?"
The Lord of Metal looked up.
His face was swollen, bruises of all shapes and sizes occupying every corner. Phos somewhat felt whiplash from this vandalization of Kass's once-handsome face. Sighing, he tugged at the door, intending to close it.
"Wait!" Kass's monotone voice held a trace of despair.
"What is it?" The hand holding the doorknob loosened slightly.
Phos had to admit—achieving his dreams felt wonderful. But the ever-clear scar on his body haunted him like a ghost, and he was clearly apprehensive towards the Lord of Metal. Reaching a hand into his back pocket, Phos felt relieved that Pyre had kept the gun.
"Let me in." Kass shouted at Phos, attracting the attention of several birds.
Ornis, Lord of Birds, loved to gossip. If word of this interaction got out, both Kass and Phos would have to lay low in shame for a couple of centuries. Despite this, Phos didn't want to let the man—who'd carved such an ugly line from his chest to his wrist—step even one foot into his cottage. He slammed the door shut.
A minute passed.
The door creaked ajar.
"Why?" Phos whispered, his soft voice shimmering with curiosity.
"I'll explain if you let me in." Kass pulled himself off of Phos's itchy straw doormat and directly flung the door open, shoving Phos aside as he strode into the cottage.
Phos couldn't make sense of what the Lord of Metal wanted. But he had a weapon and an advantage now. He followed Kass, watching the man collapse motionless face-down onto his bed.
"You said you'd explain." Phos nudged Kass with the bandaged hand not holding his gun.
A muffled sigh emitted from the fluffy blankets.
"I'll shoot you if you don't talk." The white pistol made its re-entrance as Phos pointed the muzzle to Kass's head in a friendly manner.
Kass groaned as he flipped over like an egg on a frying pan, facing Phos.
"I was hired by Pyre to come and take care of you." He sounded defeated, like the Lord of Fire had sucked out all of the purpose in his life. He wasn't even phased by the clear threat in Phos's hand.
Phos froze, his pistol clattering to the ground.
Pyre did what?
If Kass repeated his words slowly over a hundred times, Phos would still not believe him.
He slowly bent down, picked his pistol up, and aimed it back at Kass.
"You don't believe me?" Kass deadpanned.
"Of course I don't. No one would."
"The proof is around your neck." Having said everything he needed to, Kass turned to his side and fell into a deep slumber.
Around my neck?
Phos lightly touched his vanilla orange scarf. This couldn't be it. Fumbling around, Phos finally found a whistle.
He recalled hearing this whistle when he was being tortured by Kass—Pyre must have been the one to blow it. But what did it do? Control Kass specifically?
How convenient.
Bringing the metal instrument to his lips, Phos blew a harsh, shrill note.
Kass's eyes snapped open, and he lifted himself gracefully from the bed, standing at attention before Phos.
"What." Phos's eyes widened. "You're controlled by a mere whistle??"
Kass yawned, his mind not comprehending his body's actions.
"Is your soul in this or something?" Phos waved the whistle around.
"Yeah…." Kass rubbed his eyes. "How did you know?"
Both of them stared at each other for a long minute.
In the blink of an eye, evening had fallen upon the Anima Mundi. Phos supported Kass's back as they both sat on the comfortable cottage bed. Kass blew his nose, then threw the tissue into the trash can overflowing with a mountain of similar crumpled balls.
"Don't worry… let it all out. So then, what did Pyre do again?" Phos patted Kass's shoulder, placing another tissue in the Lord of Metal's hands.
"He threatened me…" Kass choked back a sob. "He said," hic, "if I didn't do as he said, he'd start wildfires all over the world and melt me into oblivion…. Then he burned my house down…."
Phos sighed. Kass ended up being a big idiot as well. Only true idiots would come up with such stupid schemes or even fall for them. As he gently brushed Kass's straw-like silver hair, he wondered just what magic Pyre used to be able to control Kass with a tin whistle.
The Lord of Fire was most definitely powerful… but extremely stupid.
"Why did he order you to kill me??" Phos still couldn't understand.
"He never said to kill you, just to torture you until you couldn't move anymore."
So you carved across my arm?? Not my legs???
Phos sighed and brought his wrapped hand to his forehead.
"You forgive me, right, light-bro?" Kass sniffled, running out of tears to cry.
"Light-bro?" Phos repeated, incredulous.
"I know you won't burn me, so we're comrades now." A very firm statement left Kass's mouth.
Wasn't there too big of a gap between Kass's first and last phrases? Phos felt a headache ebbing through his mind.
Kass wasn't wrong, though, in just one aspect. Phos wasn't powerful enough to burn anything on his own.
Even if Kass's logic made sense, Phos still felt a twinge of vicious vengeance coursing up his spine. He wanted an apology, not some random friendship.
"Comrades… not yet. Look what you did to me." Holding up his packaged arm, Phos glared so hard at Kass that the temperature seemed to lower by a couple of degrees. "Now my beautiful, smooth, unblemished chest has a scar running right across. How will you pay??"
This struck a nerve in Kass, whose eyes shifted away.
Another awkward silence ensued.
It turned out that, after all had been said and done, both the Lords of Light and Metal needed therapy.