An Immortal's Favour

Jack- Guilty, Part 1

*

I splashed water over my face to cool myself down. Here I was, hiding out in one of the bathrooms, scared to the bone.

The vials of illusion and fortune brew pressed uncomfortably against my upper thigh, through the pocket of my blazer. I fished them out. It didn't help that both brews were nearly the same shade of pink, therefore hardly distinguishable. I'd forgotten which was which, and the pen had long rubbed off.

Peeling off my blazer, I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped one of the vials underneath it, thanking the spirits that I'd chosen to wear a looser one for the evening. I did my buttons back up, and slipped my arms through my blazer's sleeves, hoping that I wouldn't end up losing both vials, despite my efforts. I squeezed the other vial, its edges digging into my skin.

All I had left to do was to get to the second-floor lounge.

~

The footsteps came to a stop as I took in a shallow breath and stood to face the clear windows of the lounge. I knew who was behind me. Of course I did. But the sharp sting in my chest, my shortness of breath were all too real.

Yafeu clamped a hand on my shoulder and drew me towards himself, trapping my body in a crushing hug. I latched my fingers against his shoulders in an attempt to push him off, but he held on tight. He squeezed me longer, harder. He was stalling.

Yafeu bent his head, brushing the edge of his lips against my ear, and whispered, "I wish I didn't need to do this."

"And how do you plan on keeping me quiet?"

"Your blazer. Give it to me."

I tried to move back, my ears prickling at the sound of approaching feet from the corridor beyond.

Yafeu glanced behind him, one corner of his lips tightening. "I know you're hiding something in there. Hand it over."

I did as he asked, fearing a struggle might've resulted in the loss of the vial I'd hidden away. The footsteps receded.

"I shouldn't be afraid of you," I admitted, my chest heaving. "You're not even a caster. And yet..."

Yafeu whimpered, pulling so tight at the blazer within his grasp that his knuckles paled.

"Talk to me," I urged, making sure I kept the bite of frustration from my voice. I even dared to take a step forward. Patience. Don't do anything to set him off.

He shifted on his feet, combing his fingers through his hair slowly. "It's too late. I tried to steer you clear from this. You were warned. Warned. But you decided on being as stubborn as ever."  His lips moved fast, one word hardly out before being followed by another. "Now you know. And I can't have that."

Yafeu looked me up and down, lips set in a straight line as he crept towards the door. A fresh wave of confusion hit me over the head; where was he going?

I called after him.

He ignored me, slipping away into the space beyond the door. White smoke, which- might I add -wasn't there before, seeped through the doorway.

"Damn it." Coughing into my, sleeve I pressed forwards and, with no other choice, plunged through, into the smoke. Where the corridors had been earlier, a seemingly endless void of white had appeared.

There was no one. Nothing.

But I carried on, though I knew, with a sinking feeling, what I'd stumbled into. I had been wrong, horribly wrong; Yafeu was not a casterless. Not in the slightest.

Falling to my knees, I slammed both my palms to the ground, and something cold pressed against my skin. The other vial. Scrambling, I unbuttoned my shirt and went to pull it out, but it vanished before my very eyes, seconds after I'd laid my fingers on it. My hand flew open.

As if speaking from all directions, Yafeu said, "Nope, sorry. We'll be having none of that, thanks." His rich voice pounded against the sides of my head, silky and filled to the brim with ill-concealed anger.

"Don't- don't do this. Please."

There was a brief moment of silence. "Don't plead."

They came one by one, the memories, and each of them was a stab to the heart, a painful reminder of what had once been. For what seemed like forever, I heard laughter, crying, talking. Shouting.

On more than one occasion I saw myself, face twisted with rage as I poured it out to the people I'd called my friends. Every time I saw myself, I crumbled just a little bit more.

"Stop," I begged.

"Once I'm done with you, you'll be a slave to your own mind. And no one will believe the words of a crazy man. You've dug your own grave, Jack," Yafeu threatened, sounding more unstable as he talked.

"I know," I gasped. "I'm as much to blame as anyone else."

He stayed quiet, a wordless prompt for me to continue. I suppose he'd been waiting for those words to fall out of my mouth for years. But his silence was an opportunity to break free, to break him.

"As much to blame as you." That was a half-lie; if I'd ignored Father's advice a little earlier, then maybe..."This is hurting you as much as it's hurting me."

Yafeu hesitated. "You think so? Save yourself the trouble and shut that mouth of yours."

"You'll spend the rest of your life with the knowledge that you did this to me, and I'll spend the rest of mine knowing that I induced you to."

"I said shut up."

For a moment the illusion gave way. I could feel myself walking, being lead somewhere, and an arm was wrapped securely around my waist.

"Manu?" someone called. The voice faded, despite calling more frantically. And, all too soon, Yafeu regained his grip on my mind.

The whiteness returned.

*

Discussion: With the luck brew having vanished, how might Jack get himself out of this mess?

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