Circles

Part 3 - Dreams

Corym knew that Milo's uncle - and his professor - didn't like him.

This was odd for him - he was usually quite agreeable and sociable. At least it wasn't for stupid reasons like his background or the fact that his father was still being questioned. If it was only because he distracted Milo, he could take it. So he did.

Despite the professor asking him to limit his visits to only those that were absolutely necessary, Corym would find little loopholes like delivering a letter or bringing something Milo had forgotten.

Today, it was bringing him coffee. Milk with a tad of honey.

More than once Milo had been holed up in his office weeks on end, working on a problem with his project, trying to figure out why some letter didn't equal to 4 or why wind always arrived from weird angles. This time he was on his 6th day of living in that godsforsaken physics tower.

He probably really needed the coffee.

Corym cursed his way up the stairs to the office, and took a moment to re-collect himself before knocking on the door. The tower held its name well - the Stars Reach. Could have also been called the Endless Staircase or, simply, Hell.

Oddly enough, nobody answered the knock. Had Milo fallen asleep again? Corym pushed the door open, knocking over a pile of books. The room was horrendously cluttered with scrolls and books, inkwells and half a dozen chalkboards. In the far corner, a couch with too many pillows had an entire scroll opened on it.

But that's not what caught Coryms attention.

The first four chalkboards were full of math nonsense. The fifth was full of... other nonsense. Chalk scratches, blurs, and a whole array of what looked like fake letters.

At the end of the last chalkboard stood Milo, forehead against the board, hands up in fists against it, his eyes wide open and dark red. He was breathing heavily, as if scared, and his shoulders were hunched and tense.

Corym set down the coffee and hurried his way through the obstacles through the office. He pulled Milo away from the chalkboard.

He was so tense it was like moving stone.

Corym took Milos' face in his hands. "Milo - Mi it's me, I'm here, you can get out of this, please wake up-"

Milo's red eyes shifted to his. For a moment, Corym thought he was waking up.

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground, having been pushed over more strongly than he knew Milo was capable of, the words "Leave us" ringing in his mind.

"Like hell I will" muttered Corym, standing up. He had never seen nor imagined Milo this aggressive. He almost looked dangerous. Nothing about this was right.

"I'm sorry for this" Corym said, mostly for himself.

Before punching Milo right in the face.

Milo staggered backwards, shook his head and looked back at Corym, his eyes back to their usual silver and gold. "You're here? You're here, I must have been asleep, I'm so tired, I-"

Corym caught Milo as he fell on him, unconscious but relaxed. And now he was stuck, holding up someone he knew I would struggle to carry.

The six feet to the couch felt as long and laborious as climbing those stairs of nightmares.

Once Milo was finally relatively comfortable on the couch, Corym found a sheet of paper and started writing.

"I came up to bring you some coffee. Sorry for punching you in the face instead, it was necessary. Miss you - C"

Corym folded up the note as tightly as he could and went back to the couch, carefully opening one of Milo's hands.

He- he had crushed the piece of chalk he was using to dust. His nails had cut into his palms - on both hands. There was blood everywhere.

He must have been so afraid.

Corym cast a quick spell to heal the cuts, and another to remove the blood, chalk and tears from his face. He slipped the note into Milo's hand and closed it again.

Corym stood up and backed towards the door, knocking over another pile of books in the process. Even by literature students' standards, this amount of information was ridiculous. He quietly closed the door, and groaned at the amount of stairs he had to cross again, this time after a small fight.

But it didn't matter. He needed information about being possessed.

Art by me, @justanothernerdling on insta