WHAT ARE YOU?

The pixies, Siofra and Quartz, had a mischievous gleam in their eyes. Luciano immediately understood that this negotiated deal with these two ancient powers did not leave the ball in his court even for a millisecond. And more importantly, what did they hope to achieve in return?

The answers, he knew, would not come easily. For the pixies were as elusive as the shadows that danced across the cave walls, their motives as enigmatic as the stars that twinkled in the night sky. He had to steel himself and prepare to engage them in whatever battle of wits and cunning that would likely elude him for some time to come.

With a deep breath, he turned to the mortal. "Are you ready? Nod if you're ready."

With his eyes widening urgently, the mortal adamantly shook his head.

He smirked at him in amusement and then turned to the pixies. "We are both ready."

Again, the mortal glowered at him which almost caused a grin to curl onto the corners of his lips.

In the blink of an eye, the world around them seemed to melt away and they were hurtled into a swirling vortex of vibrant colours and dynamic forms the fabric of reality itself twisting and warping as they were carried forward. The journey was dizzying, disorientating and yet there was a sense of exhilaration that coursed through his veins at the familiarity of travelling at such speeds in a realm that was basically nonexistent.

In the throngs of the warping, he could hear the wails of sorrow. Echoing through the surreal landscape, the mourning cries pierced the veil of reality, cutting straight through his core. Looking around, he watched damned spirits reaching out to him curiously, their ethereal forms contorting in anguish.

"Mortal…" they whispered, their voices like the soughing of a haunted wind.

"You who still walk the world of the living."

"Heed our pleas."

He felt a chill run down his spine as the spirits surrounded him, their ghostly visages reflecting the depths of their eternal torment. Even though their touch fell through his body, some of his senses could almost feel their chilling hands lingering around him.

Their voices echoed through the mist shrouded realm and he lifted his head, straining to make sense of the cacophony. They had been trapped here, in this warped realm between life and death, unable to find peace.

One of the spirits converged, their desperation palpable. "We beg you to free us from this cursed existence."

"Sever the bonds that hold us here, forever denied the tranquillity of the afterlife."

"He holds one of us within him."

He swallowed hard, his beating heart racing as he gazed upon their anguished faces. Why was he feeling sympathy for them? Was he contemplating the prospect of truly aiding these wretched souls, these damned spirits who had been condemned to an eternity of suffering? The weight of their plea settled upon his shoulders, a burden he was not sure he even wanted to bear.

"Has anyone seen my son?" The words cut through the din, a plaintive plea that drew his attention. He scanned the surrounding fog, seeking the source of the voice.

Unlike the other spirits, whose faces were contorted in expressions of terror and despair, her visage was clear and defined. Even though she had wrinkles adorning her forehead, he could tell that she was not old when she died. Her eyes burned with a desperate intensity, a mother's unwavering love shining through the dark haze.

He hesitated, momentarily transfixed by her piercing gaze. It felt familiar. Who was this woman?

At the sound of whimpering, he glanced down to see the mortal crouched down with his hands covering his ears in an attempt to block out the overwhelming reality that surrounded them. His hands travelled up to tug at his silky, black locks and when he began to rock back and forth with a bit of a tremble in his body, he drew his eyebrows down in interest. 

"Has anyone seen my son?"

The mortal glanced up, his eyes wide with terror darted back and forth, desperately seeking an escape from a nightmare that was inescapable for a few more moments. Then his gaze stuck in one specific spot, the colour instantly draining from his face. His eyes widened in surprise when his greys started to glisten with fresh tears, nearly tipping over onto his cheeks and his chest rose and fell with each harsh breath he took.

He followed his line of vision and realised that he was staring at the woman. Was the mortal able to see her? Who was she?

At that moment, time slowed to a crawl and stretched into an eternity. Even from here, he could hear the sound of the mortal's heart rapidly pounding in his chest, the only sound that pierced the wails.

It was then that they emerged from the warp with a nauseating entree. He glanced around in confusion and heard the traffic of the bustling streets. His gaze shifted around and he realised that the pixies had long disappeared out of sight. Suddenly feeling something painfully burning into his palm, he let out a sharp wince and instinctively turned his hand over, only to witness a most extraordinary sight.

Before his very eyes, a foreign symbol began etching itself into his skin, the lines glowing with a faint, ethereal light. He watched mesmerised as the intricate design took shape, the pain fading away to a dull throb.

When the last curve of the symbol had been inscribed, he lifted his hand closer, tracing the markings with his fingertips. They felt warm to the touch, almost alive, pulsing with an unfamiliar power. Endless questions swirled in his mind. Was this the pixies' doing? With a deep, exhausted breath, he closed his fist and he could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin.

Hearing a loud honk, he sprung back just in time to see a vehicle driving past him.

The mortal, where was he?

His eyes flickered over to the road searchingly, bustling with traffic as the evening commute was in full swing. Amongst the sea of vehicles and pedestrians, his gaze landed on a figure hunched over, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him. His shoulders were slumped and his steps were slow and weary, as if the weight of the world rested upon them. Why was the mortal moving in the street like that?

He watched him intently.

Suddenly, a vehicle hurtled towards him, the driver seemingly unaware of the oblivious to the mortal in their path. Time seemed to slow as he witnessed the impending collision, his heart racing with a sense of dread.

"Giovanni!" he yelled at him urgently.

When he did not react to his call, he clenched his jaw in exacerbation. He knew he had to act. Without hesitation, he ran towards him and hastily wrapped his arm around his waist, stepping into his path instead and shielding him with his body from harm. The vehicle collided with him, its impact sending shockwaves through his being, but he held his ground, his unwavering focus solely on the mortal he had sworn to protect.

The vehicle eventually drove passed them, skidding out and coming to a stop before hitting a pole.

The mortal finally looked up while blinking rapidly, snapping out of his daze. His grey eyes were wide with surprise, tears of despair trailing down his face.

"Why are you so inclined to die?" he whispered exasperatedly with a groan, feeling the pain in his abdomen as he tiredly rested his forehead on his shoulder. 

The adrenaline which had been coursing through his veins to propel him forward from his sense of frantic urgency, snuffed out immediately, leaving him crumpled against the mortal.

The shocked chatter of the pedestrians muffled into one humming sound and he fought to keep his eyes open, the faces of the onlookers fading in and out of focus. Their expressions were a mix of shock, concern and morbid curiosity. The pain in his abdomen was excruciating, radiating from every nerve ending, every muscle, every bone. It was as if his body had been set ablaze, the flames licking at his skin, searing through his flesh.

He had never felt pain this bad for this long. Normally, his body would have started the healing process already.

"Luca, are you okay?"

"Do I look fucking okay to you?"

Quickly, the mortal guided him out of the road over onto the pavement.

With disbelief in his voice, the mortal questioned, "How did you do that?"

"No time to explain. Come on, climb." He pushed him to reach for the fire escape ladder and after seeing the urgent look in his eyes, without arguing with him the mortal quickly climbed up onto the roof with ungainly steps.

He was still reeling from the disorientating experience of both warping and being run over by a vehicle. He felt like he was on the verge of heaving.

With a strained groan and his arm wrapped tightly around his ribs, he slowly made his way up the creaking ladder, ragged breaths leaving him as he ascended. The pain was excruciating, each step sending a sharp jolt through his battered body, but he kept going.

When he reached the top, he paused for a minute, taking in the view before him. The city skyline stretched out, a tapestry of lights and shadows. He carefully pulled himself over the edge onto the roof, collapsing onto the hard surface with a weary sigh.

Through his peripheral vision, he saw the mortal walking over to the ledge. He narrowed his eyes at him warningly as he stared down at the edge in contemplation before he brazenly took a step up, gazing out at the sprawling city below. Frustratedly, he rolled over and pushed himself back up onto his feet with his body protesting with every move. 

"Don't—" He took in a deep breath, steadying his nerves as he felt a sharp stabbing pain from moving too quickly. The mortal standing there brought back memories he did not find particularly fond. He did not just save him from a vehicle collision so he could risk his life again.

"What are you?" the mortal mused with his back facing him.

He did not know how to answer that question.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind," he whispered and the crack in his voice made him tense up. "I'm so tired."

The mortal took a step forward, the soles of his shoes gripping the narrow ledge. His eyes widened in panic as the bustling streets seemed to fade away, replaced by a deafening silence that magnified the pounding of his heart drumming loudly in his tympanic membrane. The mortal inched a little closer to the edge.

"Hey, get away from there," he pleaded with him desperately while trying to move towards him quicker. "I won't be able to… save you if you…"

He shook his head as his vision started to blur. The world around him started to waver and distort as if the very air was rippling with an unseen energy. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his sight, but the strange effect only intensified.

"I won't be able to save you if you... fall."

With his eyebrows flicking down in confusion, he glanced down at his hand which was surprisingly damp and removed it from his shirt to see the red liquid dripping off his fingertips. Perplexed, he stared at the crimson droplets falling to the ground, their rhythm disrupted by the slight tremble in his hand.

The metallic scent suddenly hit his nostrils, causing his brow to furrow even deeper. He was bleeding. Why was he bleeding so profusely? His mouth went dry as a million possibilities flooded his mind he stumbled dizzily. Was he dying?

Reaching a hand out to the mortal, he weakly called out, "Giova—"

The mortal threw his head over his shoulder in interest when he called his name and when he saw him swaying to the side, he immediately jumped off the ledge and quickly ran over to him but he was not able to reach him before he hit the ground with a thud.

Then there was...