Saint B. Kadmus
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"Thank you for your hospitality", I smile at Maka as she leads me to the bathroom.
After being released from examination, Kid voiced his concerns over my appearance to Maka, who led me to her apartment. Despite begrudgingly being dragged through the town, I admired Death City's abstract construction. It was a bit difficult getting used to the vast differences in architecture, but I think of it as touring a modern museum. It's been quite a while since I played with the mortal folk.
"Here's the shower", Maya whisks the curtain open, and turns a handle, water pouring from the spout above. "-And here are some of Soul's old clothes"
I take the pile from her, and nod. "Thank you"
"Let me know if you need anything. We'll be just outside", She grins warmly, retreating outside and closing the door behind her.
We didn't have showers when I was young. We bathed in whatever lake we were closer towards, and chewed mint leaves. It was the closest thing we had to hygiene, but looking back, I'm surprised I hadn't died of cholera before my fourth birthday.
I start to strip, and stare at my pale body in the mirror. I know having not eaten for a few millenia would get to me, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. The ribs are popping out of my torso, my arms frail and boney. I'd have trouble picking out my own body in the midst of a pack of skeletons. I lean in close, my breath fogging up the glass, and press my fingertips against my reflection.
I haven't seen myself in anything but the reflection of a creek. My skin is dry.. cracked, scarred even. The distortion of waves and ripples hides the impurities. Freyr used to tell me that the creek shows only the best in people. He said I looked perfect. That I was perfect.
I was his perfect creation.
Slowly, I pry myself from the glass, and step into the shower. The water is freezing, not yet warmed up, and it reminds me of Surtr's slimy fingertips. A chill crawls down my spine, sending a wave of energy and warmth to the part of my body I least expected.
When I was young, Freyr taught me everything. Even things about my body- embarrassing things. It was normal for Gods and their weapons to be sexually active, even at a young age. They were all incestuous, non-monogamous addicts.
He told me that it was natural to.. have a reaction like this.. when I think of a woman. Yet- to think of Surtr.. It's disgusting. Still, as the water starts to heat up, I find my hand gliding down my chest, my stomach, and stopping just before my v-line. I can't do this. He used me to kill Freyr. He's coming to kill me as I stand here!
I swipe my hands away, cradling my head and sitting down on the floor. I watch the water drip from my hair, my fingertips, and images of Maka flash into my head. When she held me, there was little to no pain. Do our souls connect? Are we really compatible? No- there's no way to know for sure until her weapon is disposed of. Once that connection breaks, she could make me hers.
There are two options here, with little to no time to decide.
Do I let Surtr kill Maka, and take her weapon as my own-
or do I kill Soul and let Maka use me against Surtr?
Either way, Surtr must be killed.
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Thirty Minutes Later
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"You look clean", Elizabeth comments as I step into the kitchen, rubbing a towel on my head.
YOU ARE READING
I Don't Have a Meister...//SoulEater
FanfictionI was used to kill my meister, my true meister, The Norse God Freyr. I watched him die, I saw the betrayal in his eyes- and there was nothing I could do to stop it. After his death, found a place to hide out for centuries, regaining enough strength...
