A gift and a burden

"If the honored senator from North Carolina is that desperate for the company of young boys, he should join NAMBLA," the words blasted from the television as I entered the room.

Two's attention was on the screen, absorbed in the unfolding drama when my entrance startled him. His blue eyes snapped up from the couch, the relaxed air around him instantly evaporating as he recognized my presence.

He shifted, sitting up as the couch responded with a peculiar buoyancy, a testament to the Repulsion Gel innards that made even a simple cushion feel hyper-responsive. It was an Aperture signature, marrying function with an aesthetic straight out of a sci-fi epic—sleek lines and a minimalist sheen that wouldn't be out of place on the set of a Star Trek film.

The young blond's gaze shifted from casual to a mix of respect and wariness, reacting to my entrance. He tugged his shirt down, covering the exposed sliver of his flat stomach.

"That may cost me a thousand dollars in fines," I said, my voice cutting through the tension as I nodded toward the screen. Donahue's show was airing a segment from the recent Senate hearing about the events in Hawkins, the very words that had turned me into an unexpected media figure.

I settled into an adjacent chair, welcoming the cool fabric's contrast against the warmth of self-satisfaction still simmering within me. Across the room, my televised counterpart stared down a senator, our confrontation now a spectacle for the nation.

"I consider it money well spent," I declared, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.

Two's ocean-blue eyes lingered on me, the surprise in them slowly morphing into something more complex, grudging respect perhaps. "Seriously, Master, you turned that Senate hearing into some kind of prime-time drama." He relaxed back into the cushions, the slouch in his posture belying the sharp attention in his eyes—ever the eager student, despite the casual air.

"It served its purpose," I began, my voice steady and sure. "Not only did it put a stop to Senator Helms' badgering—you know, that man really should grasp the concept that 'no' means 'no'—but it also cleverly diverted the media's gaze away from prying too deeply into the identities of our underage witnesses." I paused, a wry smile playing on my lips. "And the folks in PR were thrilled; they're firm believers in the adage 'any publicity is good publicity,' especially when it steers clear of our products' explosive tendencies."

I reclined, regarding Two with the discerning gaze of a mentor. "But tell me, how are you and the others adapting to a new environment? The Enrichment Centre is quite the departure from Io, isn't it?"

"Sure, having access to TV again is a bonus," he admitted, his tone carrying a note of discontent. "But for a place that's touted as the pinnacle of human advancement, it's ironically quite primitive."

"You're just too accustomed to the facilities at the Io base," I retorted with a hint of amusement.

"The food here leaves a lot to be desired," he continued, his complaint edging into a whine.

"That's because Dwight isn't here. He's tied up with a mission of considerable importance."

"Dwight?"

"Fano. Remember, we stick to the aliases assigned here, not those we used on Io."

"You mean like I am now Damien Shepard."

"Well, you needed a new identity, after poor Damien Smith was abducted by aliens."

Two snorted. "Barely knew the guy. But won't people question why your new intern looks and sounds so much like him?"

"In Aperture, few had the chance to meet him face-to-face. I've modified all records—Two, Damien Shepard, and Damien Smith could pass for distant cousins now." I offered a half-smile. "Besides, around here, people are more ready to buy into the idea of a clone vault than a simple identity swap. Just refrain from calling me 'Master' in public; it tends to... suggest other scenarios."

"Sorry," he said, a quick, mischievous grin flickering across his features, suggesting the idea of such gossip was more entertaining than troubling to him.

Well, there were worse things to be said about me than banging a teenager. At least he was legal. It was almost expected of a man in my position. Still, I should nip it in the bud, "What would Trevor think of you being my sex slave?"

"He'd have to look up from his sketchbook to notice," he said with a touch of sarcasm. "When you gave the order for us to move to the Enrichment Centre, I thought that living at the same place would mean I got to see more of him. But he is too busy with his comic."

I waved my hand at the scattered comics on the desk. "I was under the impression his drawings were something you admired."

"Not when it interferes with my sex life," he grumbled, the lightness in his tone from moments ago now replaced with a touch of annoyance. He leaned back into the gel-cushioned couch, his gaze drifting towards the high, well-lit ceilings of the Enrichment Centre. In a near whisper, as if afraid of being overheard by the walls themselves, he added, "And sometimes, I think this place is haunted."

"You can feel them," I replied, my voice tinged with surprise. "I didn't think you were sensitive enough to notice."

Two's relaxed attitude snapped taut, his back straightening as if jolted by a current. A sharp intake of breath pierced the silence, and the playful gleam in his eyes momentarily gave way to raw fear. His hands clutched the edge of the cushion, his knuckles turning pale. "Wait! This place is really haunted?"

I nodded, the solemnity of my expression tempered by a grim twist of a smile. "At Aperture, dying is no excuse to stop contributing. It simply means you've ceased to draw a salary."

Two's face was a mixture of horror and fascination. "And people actually choose to live here?" he asked, his voice a cocktail of disbelief and morbid intrigue.

I chuckled lightly. "Oh, indeed. The waiting list is a mile long. There are other benefits, too, which I'm sure you've noticed in your classes," I responded, allowing a hint of secrecy to enter my tone. "And it's not like we publicize the truly permanent nature of residency here."

Two's eyes narrowed, a glint of intrigue rather than alarm flickering within them. "You mean that sensation of answers coming to me before I even fully form the questions? Those are spirits?"

I raised an eyebrow, impressed with his quick deduction. "It's more complex, but for simplicity's sake, yes."

"That's... unconventional. Ghostly guides—I suppose not even the afterlife is free from work," he mused, a playful curiosity replacing his initial surprise.

"They usually aren't so... beneficial," I replied, my tone suggesting layers of untold knowledge. "That's not a natural state of affairs."

He looked uncertain, a crease forming between his brows. "I'm not sure I'm eager to dive into that lesson."

"Don't worry," I reassured him, my voice carrying a definitive edge. "That's a chapter of knowledge beyond your current curriculum—and frankly, outside the scope of your abilities."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts. I watched him closely, gauging his reaction, half-expecting him to challenge my assessment of his capabilities. But he remained silent, contemplative, accepting the boundaries I had set. It was true—such necromancy was a magecraft, and my apprentice was a psychic, not a Magus in training. Psychic equivalent, the gifts of a medium, was something he quite lacked.

After a moment, I shifted the topic, my voice softening to break the tension. "There's another reason I've come to see you," I said, "I have some gifts for you."

"Should I be afraid?" he asked, but his tone betrayed him. He was eager.

"Perhaps," I mused, "if you wise. But wisdom is gained by experience. And experience is gained by doing unwise things. The first gift I give to you is the return of something you have lost." I extended my hand toward him, and from beneath my sleeve, an eyeless serpent of crimson as blood slithered into view, its scales catching the light as it moved toward its new companion.

"A replacement for Sarlacc?" Two's voice held a tremor, and he briefly averted his eyes, a silent testament to his attempt to mask the impact of the loss. His fingers curled into a fist, then relaxed, as if grappling with an emotion he wasn't ready to acknowledge.

"Not a replacement. Though me, Sarlacc was reborn from an ordinary garden snake, into something greater. And through me, Sarlacc is reborn anew. Different yet the same."

Two leaned in, his severe yet handsome face a canvas of expectation, the blue of his eyes reflecting a naive hope. But as the snake's head split, blossoming into four quivering petals to reveal a gaping maw bristling with needle-sharp teeth, that hope was swiftly chased by the shadow of shock.

Two recoiled, his exclamation slicing through the air. "What the hell?!"

I held my arm steady, the snake coiled along its length, projecting calm assurance. "Different, yes, but also better—more in tune with you. Come, reclaim what was once yours. There's no need for fear; it's merely your old friend, reborn in new flesh."

Two's voice held a wary note as he reached out tentatively. "He looks like one of those things," he remarked, the trepidation clear in his eyes as his hand inched closer to the serpent coiled on my arm.

"With One indisposed," I began to explain.

Two interrupted. "I thought One was dead. Eaten by that giant spider."

"Eaten, yes. Dead, no."

"Do I even want to know?" he asked, a note of apprehension threading through his words.

"You might not want to," I acknowledged, "but it's imperative that you do."

Two's fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the armrest. "He won't be able to go on another murder spree?"

I leaned forward slightly, hands resting together for emphasis. "Not by his own volition. He is quite securely contained."

His eyes narrowed, a spark of concern flaring within. "What if he escapes?"

I offered a dismissive wave, as though swatting away the very idea. "Then we will have bigger problems. He is not the most dangerous one bound in that prison."

Two's gaze flickered away momentarily, then back to me. "The other me? The spider demon?"

"Precisely," I said, nodding slowly to acknowledge his insight. "Your intuition will serve you well. The demon had devoured him, and in turn, had become bound. And now they are together forever, isn't it romantic?"

A dry chuckle resonated from Two, his disbelief momentarily breaking through. "Only if one finds spiders sexy."

The corners of my eyes crinkled with mirth. "One does. Or an incubus wouldn't choose an arachnid form. Don't kink shame."

He rolled his eyes, and said, "But what that has to do with Sarlacc being like that?"

I leaned in. "If you hadn't interrupted me, I would have gotten to that. As I said, with One gone, the life forms from the other side were just empty flesh. Ready to be filled with something, like the essence of the familiar I had preserved."

Two ran a hand through his hair, his gaze clouded with confusion. "Why does One's disappearance matter?"

"His particular talent for absorption, psychic cannibalism, allowed him to assimilate the hive mind of those life forms rather than the other way around."

"So rather than being eaten by the monster, he ate it?" His eyebrows arched, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," I nodded, ensuring he understood the implications. "True to his nature, he gained all of their knowledge. Among them, the secrets of their mutable flesh. However, such mutability is based on the way they encode intracellular instructions. What I call the hive mind is more than that; it is a complex telepathic matrix that contains more than what we would term a mind. It holds all that DNA would in terrestrial life forms, and for all different morphs. In a way, it can be compared to the Astral Body in humans, if it contained several different alternate forms."

"Like you do?" Two tilted his head, a silent prompt for further elucidation.

"It's not the same," I clarified. "What I do is closer to quantum superposition. All my alternate forms are just different possibilities of me." I paused to let that sink in. "But let's return to a more relevant matter. It is still unclear how such creatures evolved, but I am supposing that both humanoid and canid forms were a result of them absorbing primates or canids. Of course, it requires that the subject is at least somewhat psychically active for proper bonding."

Two's fingers tapped an uncertain rhythm on the cushion. "Wait, does that mean dogs can be psychic too?"

"It's a reasonable conclusion. Wolves too," I affirmed with a nod. "It may be the reason why humans and dogs are so compatible. But I am unsure about the role of the two morphs, the bat-like and the moving shadow swarm."

Two's eyes glinted with the thrill of the unknown. "Bats? If some can have psychic power, could they be the origin of the legend of vampires?"

I raised a hand, signaling a pause to his burgeoning theories. "Not enough evidence. That is just speculation. And not your concern. I want to explore your new bond with Sarlacc. It may lack ocular organs, but it possesses a kind of sight—one that observes more dimensions than humans can. Although learning to use it may prove disorienting, it will further your progress."

He nodded slowly, absorbing the depth of what I'd shared. "Is that all?"

"I will also provide you with cuttings of the vine morph, so you may attempt to grow it." My tone was matter-of-fact, underscoring the practicality of the task.

"Grow it? How the fuck do I do that? Plant in the unhallowed ground? Feed it some virgin kids?"

"Mental link would be a good start," I suggested. "But the second gift will greatly aid you in that, should you choose to accept it."

"Is there really a choice?" Two's tone carried a hint of resignation mixed with curiosity.

"Yes," I affirmed, reaching under my shirt to retrieve a beautiful ring on a chain. As I held it out, the ruby at its center glittered with an ominous light. "This is both a privilege and a burden. You are most suited to take it, but if you refuse, I will seek another."

His eyes widened slightly. "Is that really…" he began, but his voice faded, lost in thought.

"Yes, that is the demon's prison," I confirmed, my gaze steady on him. "And a bond for all who are linked with it."

"That's not what I wanted to ask." Two shrugged, his eyes still locked on the ring. Sarlacc, was coiled around his neck like a living necklace. With an almost sheepish tone, he confessed, "Dustin introduced me to Lord of the Rings."

I waited patiently for him to continue. Being a mind reader, among other things, I could easily delve into his thoughts, but I chose not to. It was rude, and I preferred to hear it in his own words.

After a moment, he gathered his thoughts. "Rin Ranyarion Fëanorion, the demon called you that. Dustin told me where such a name comes from. And now this ring. It looks like how a Ring of Power should."

I offered him a proud smile, pleased by his deduction. With anyone else, I might have erased such inconvenient memories, but this was my apprentice. "Once, this was Narya, but its flame was extinguished with the destruction of the Ruling Ring. However, from ashes, a new flame can be kindled. I have repurposed it as a prison for the demon."

Or rather, I would reforge it into the prison for the demon and send it into the past, so I could obtain it at the precise moment needed to bind the demon. Time travel made for inconvenient tenses.

The main reason I was passing it to my apprentice was practical. I couldn't reforge it while wearing it; that would tangle time a bit too much.

And, frankly, I was weary of the cries of the dying. My charitable actions had eased the burden somewhat, but it often felt like attempting to empty the sea with a small bucket. Humans died constantly; a rare few accepted it peacefully, but most left this world with deep regret.

Two would likely handle it better. His empathy was even less pronounced than mine. In this particular situation, his teenage self-centeredness might actually be an asset, making him more resistant to the demon's temptations.

The drumming would stop too. Finally, I would have silence.

"So, Tolkien's books are true, like Trevor's comic? Just a glimpse of another world? Did he have the same gift as Trevor?"

"Perhaps," I mused, "or there was truth to his statement that he merely translated the Red Book." I paused for a moment, lost in thought over such mysteries, then refocused on the immediate issue. "We have something more pressing to discuss. The reforged ring. It requires a new ringbearer."

"Is it safe?" Two asked, his voice tinged with caution. Yet, as I looked into his eyes, I could see the unspoken question there: Was it powerful?

"It won't turn you into a Ringwraith, if that's your concern. Not that such a transformation would even be possible with the Ruling Ring," I replied. "But there is always some danger associated with objects of power. I have done my best to minimize it by binding it with seven additional seals."

"Seals can be broken in two ways," I continued, ensuring he grasped the full weight of my words. "One is automatic. If the ringbearer is dying, one seal will break to prevent their death. The other method is deliberate. By invoking the name of an angel, a seal can be broken."

"Which name?" Two's curiosity was palpable, his hungry gaze fixed intently on the ring.

"That, I will not divulge for now, not even if you accept the ring," I said, the seriousness of the matter evident in my tone. "With each seal that is broken, both the potency and peril of the ring grow in equal measure."

"What if I need that power?" Two asked, a trace of greed in his voice.

"See that you don't," I cautioned him. "Let me continue. When fully sealed, the ring acts as a lesser amplifier generally, and a bit stronger in matters pertaining to your survival or the survival of others. On the other hand, it makes killing more difficult. But that's a minor effect. The true power lies in knowledge. What the demon knows, what those it consumed knew, and some remnants from before the binding. All that knowledge will be accessible to you as long as the ring is yours."

"I see," he replied, his voice laced with a realization. "I will know everything One knew about shaping the flesh of those creatures. That's why you said it would help."

"Additionally, you might learn his absorption abilities. But I would caution against using them," I warned seriously. "Consuming souls can be detrimental to one's sanity."

"I'm not going to eat people," Two asserted, his voice firm. 

"There are many paths to power, some more detestable than others. Ultimately, the choices you make are yours alone," I cautioned. "But remember, when pushed to the brink, it's hard to predict what one might do. Never forget the consequences, though." I paused, ensuring he understood the gravity of my words. "The breaking of the first seal will bestow what I call a 'crown' upon you. Rather than merely having instinctive access to the knowledge held within the ring, you will be able to communicate directly with the demon and all those under his dominion. They will be compelled to answer your questions truthfully, to the best of their knowledge."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Two mused, a hint of intrigue in his tone.

"The fact that you think so means you're not ready for it," I cautioned him. "Words can be deadlier than any blade, even those not spoken by a demon. And don't forget about Brenner. He's there too, and he managed to convince the CIA to fund a lab full of stolen children."

"Papa is there? Of course, he is. I watched him wither and turn to dust," Two said, running his hand through his short blond hair. A mix of emotions played across his face. "I don't know if I want to speak with him."

"Then don't break the first seal."

"Well, I don't plan on dying, but then again, who does?"

"Suicides and terminal patients," I said, a wry smile briefly crossing my face, indulging in a bit of dark humor before continuing. "The breaking of the second seal grants the 'sword,' the ability to command those bound in the ring to channel their abilities through you. This ranges from the skills of murdered agents and guards to One's and other consumed psychics' gifts, even extending to the demon's very powers."

"That seems handy. What's the catch?" Two asked, his pretty face marred by a scowl.

"The catch is temptation," I explained, my voice grave to emphasize the risk. "The more you use these powers, the more reasonable it will seem to break additional seals for even more power. Also, while the ring gives shape to these abilities, the energy still comes from the bearer. The strain could be fatal, potentially leading to the breaking of the third seal. The scales." I paused, making sure he grasped the full implications. "That one awakens you to the hunger of those bound in the ring."

"Now that sounds like a proper curse," he said, an exaggerated smirk playing on his lips.

"But it's also useful," I countered. "The ring commands obedience, but understanding is valuable for true cooperation. Unpleasant, certainly, but the knowledge it offers is invaluable. With the fourth seal broken, hell walks beside you. Or rather, you gain access to its Reality Marble. Do you remember what I taught you about that?"

"Something about rewriting reality by overlaying the outer world with inner words?" he replied, his expression one of concentration as he tried to recall.

"Close enough," I acknowledged. "You've done well to remember something I mentioned in passing. As for that Reality Marble, I haven't experimented enough to determine its full extent, and I suggest you exercise the same caution. Breaking the fifth seal unleashes the martyrs. In other words, it allows the manifestation of all the damned souls bound to the demon, all under your command. The sixth seal is Wormwood, a step before oblivion. It transforms you into a demon host, amplifying your powers at the cost of your sanity and leading to mutation. Do not break the last seal."

He gulped, his face paling, yet he still mustered the courage to ask, "What will happen if I do?"

"For the span of seven trumpets, you will wield the full power of the demon, and then the ring will seek a new bearer."

"Death. A steep price to pay."

"No, not death. You won't be so fortunate. Should you break the last seal, you will have an eternity to regret it within the ring," I said, letting the gravity of those words hang in the air. After a moment of silence, I almost ritually asked, "Now that you know all this, will you still take this burden?"

Rather than responding with words, Two answered through action. He grabbed the dangling ring, forcefully tearing the chain from my grip. Even braced for it, the sensation was painful, akin to tearing a barbed hook from the flesh. And like a barbed hook, the ring had taken something with it—a few of my Magic Circuits.

I felt lighter, diminished yet somehow freer.

Lost in his own world, Two gazed at the ring in his hands. I waited until he properly bonded with it, then spoke, "You will eventually need to pass it on. Choose your successor wisely."

"Why?" he asked, still absorbed by the ring.

"Because you can't die while bearing it. So, your choices are: pass it on and die as a human or live forever bound within it. Passing the ring is a painful process, and it takes something from you each time. So if think of sharing the burden, passing it like a hot potato: don't."

He gulped, apprehension evident in his expression. "The seals, can they be restored if broken?"

"Yes," I replied, capturing his full attention. "The process is both simple and difficult. Essentially, you have to do nothing. The seals will restore themselves over time, but this requires refraining from using the ring's powers. In practice, you may find that challenge more daunting than it sounds."