Driven into a Corner

For several long moments, Oliver stared at the mirror with his mouth wide open. He looked like a gaping goldfish.

Theo wouldn't lie, he enjoyed seeing Oliver make such a stupid face. But most of his attention was riveted on the mirror too.

His breaths echoed in his ears, loud and hissing. But it felt like a massive weight had lifted from his chest, allowing him to fill his lungs for the first time since the battle had begun.

As he'd watched the dragon descend, unleash its crystallizing beam, sweep aside the fighters' attacks, Theo had shouted and struggled against the ropes. Futilely trying to break free, to get out of here and help the others however he could.

Especially Sam. His heart had stopped when the burly prisoner had intercepted the attack meant for her, and again when she attempted casting the elemental spell. He'd thought nothing could be worse than facing the enthralled Sam, but this blew it out of the water.

But she'd pulled through. Together with Ryllis, who apparently had formed a contract with her. He was dying to hear the story behind it, but for now, he let himself relax as a dizzying mix of relief and pride swept through him.

In the mirror, the dragon's smoldering corpse loomed above the scene. Small fires still blazed, but the fighters were regrouping. Theo watched as Meg helped Sam walk over to the frozen burly prisoner, where she tenderly placed a hand on his arm, and felt his throat tighten.

The couch creaked from behind. Oliver stood up, feet hitting the soft carpet with muffled thumps.

"No," he whispered, speaking for the first time since the dragon had fallen. "No way."

"Ha!" Ryan barked with laughter. "Sucks to be you, huh?"

Oliver whirled upon Ryan, scarlet-faced. "Shut up!"

This only emboldened Ryan. "They totally wiped the floor with your precious dragon. That was a pretty good show, I gotta say. Haven't had this much fun in ages."

As he gloated, Oliver's flush deepened to the exact hue of a tomato. Alarm sparked in some distant part of Theo's mind, but he only had to remember the terror he'd felt watching Sam in danger, and a wave of vindictive satisfaction came rushing in.

So he happily joined Ryan. "Did that dragon even belong to you? Or were you just borrowing it from mommy and daddy? Oops, how ya gonna explain this one?"

Oliver's face scrunched up and he stamped his foot so hard the glass bowl fell off the table, spilling caramels all over the carpet. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut UP!"

"You got any more dragons in reserve, or is that the only one?" Ryan picked up the jeering without missing a beat. "Shoulda thought things through a little better, kid!"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Spittle flying, Oliver rounded on Ryan and kicked him in the side. Ryan yelped and tipped over like a bowling pin.

Heart pounding, Theo shuffled toward him. Okay, maybe he'd done pretty much the same thing to Ryan a little earlier, but that didn't mean he deserved it from Oliver Enson of all people.

Before he could get there, Oliver stamped his foot again. "This isn't over! I'll put a stop to you intruders, just you wait!"

"Oh, are you finally going out and fighting yourself?" Theo taunted. "Or will you just make more people clean up after you?"

Oliver's foot lashed out. Theo tried to dodge, but couldn't move fast enough with his arms bound. Pain exploded in his cheek and stars burst in his vision before he toppled over, hitting the floor on his side.

Wheezing for breath, Theo squirmed in an attempt to get back up. Well, he probably should have expected it. And it didn't hurt half as much as the hole in his heart where Zenith had once been.

When he managed to lift his head, he saw Oliver had hunched his shoulders and was breathing hard, sweat slicking his scarlet face. His hands curled and uncurled into fists.

Then his Levia spiked, and Theo jerked in alarm. Too late – an orange circle had already appeared beneath Oliver's feet. In its glow, his eyes blazed like the setting sun, as did the gem on his ring.

Once again, Theo's Levia stirred in recognition. But before he could seize onto the feeling, Oliver vanished in a flash of orange light.

Leaving Theo and Ryan alone once more. And completely cut off, since the mirrors had gone blank. Theo's heart pounded a painful beat against his ribcage.

He had no idea where Oliver had gone, or what he was planning. All he knew was that Oliver had been driven into a corner, making him more dangerous than ever.

Which meant they had to escape. Soon.

~*~

'Get up,' Zenith told himself furiously.

Everything ached, from his head to the core of his Levia. Even the slightest twitch of his finger made agony spike through his entire body.

He'd shouted at Avia until his voice had given out, but she had stopped replying long ago. Reluctantly, he had decided to resume his efforts at breaking out of the door. Either Avia would understand his words or not. At any rate, he could do nothing more about her.

He had only managed to throw himself at the door twice before his strength had failed him. Now he was lying on the floor, unable to do anything but gasp for breath and rage inside his mind.

No. He couldn't give up now. Even if the prospect of getting up seemed as distant as the summit of a mountain, he could take this one step at a time. First, move his hand. Use it as leverage....

He twitched his fingers again, gritting his teeth against the ensuing burst of pain. All he had to do was curl them up, form a fist.

Just as he began to drag his fingers inward, an unfortunately familiar Levia prickled his senses. Zenith froze, ice flooding his head. Had Oliver returned already?

Surely...it wasn't to gloat that he had defeated Theo? 'No,' Zenith told himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He would sense if anything happened to Theo – no, not anymore.

Despair clenched into a tight fist in his chest. But it didn't hurt nearly as much as the panic that jolted through him like electricity. Helplessly he began to thrash, pain and weariness forgotten, intent only on getting up and – and –

Something. Anything. Just to make sure Theo was all right.

A click echoed throughout the cell. Disbelieving, Zenith stared up at the metal door.

With a grinding screech, it began to slide open. A chance! Yes, if he could get up in time –

But of course, it was pointless. The door swung wide open, hitting the stone wall with a bang. Two people stood at the entrance.

No, only one of them was standing. A golden-haired boy with hateful blue eyes. The other floated behind him, armor glinting even in the dim prison.

Avia? Why had Oliver released her?

"Get up. We're going." Oliver marched forward. As he approached, Zenith registered the crimson flush to his face, the scowl twisting his mouth. Not a trace of gloating or glee to be seen.

Hope leaped inside Zenith. Oliver wouldn't be in such a foul mood if he'd already defeated the others, would he?

Oliver stopped in front of him, glaring down at him with arms folded. Whatever he wanted, it could not be good.

Yet Zenith had an opportunity now. Escape might be too optimistic, but Avia was right here.

Gathering all his remaining strength, he gazed at her and gasped, "Avia. Please, listen to me. It isn't too late."

"Shut up!" Oliver's stomped on Zenith's shoulder. "It's time for you to fight. Yes, two homunculi. This should be enough."

A feverish light gleamed in his eyes, almost inhuman. He ground his foot back and forth, but Zenith barely felt it through his horror.

"No," he hissed. "I will never fight for you."

"You're still going on about that? Well, who cares. I didn't want to resort to this, but if I have to, guess I will."

Oliver's voice came out in short, trembling bursts. It almost sounded as if he was going mad. Nonetheless, his intent was more than clear. And that meant Zenith needed to resist harder than ever.

"Are you going to fight for him?" he yelled at Avia. "Against Ryan? Can you really accept this?"

"Look this way!" Oliver stomped again, harder. As he did, Zenith sensed the pressure of his Levia deepening in the air, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

He clenched his teeth. If Oliver intended to torture him, he would simply have to endure it.

Oliver's Levia spiked inside him, searingly hot. Before he could help it, he gasped.

Then a hand seized a fistful of his hair and yanked, forcing him to lift his head. In his weakened state, he couldn't pull away. All he could do was stare as orange light engulfed Oliver's entire body, growing brighter and hotter with every second.

He wasn't channeling it into a diagram; this was just his raw Levia. And it was gathering within the gem on his ring, swallowing every trace of blue until it blazed like a miniature sun.

Just looking at it made Zenith's eyes hurt. He tried to pull away, but Oliver tightened his grip and dragged his head up higher, forcing him to stare directly at the incandescent gem.

As he did, the Levia inside him erupted like a solar flare. The heat took his breath away, wiped his vision blank. If the Levia from Oliver's contract had been bad, this was a thousand times worse. He could feel it hooking its claws into his mind, burrowing inside as if trying to hollow him out. A fire devouring a building. A tsunami overwhelming a storm wall.

No! He could not – no matter what, he could not forget who he was, who he fought for. Images flashed in his mind. His liege. Theo. For them, for their sake –

But the fire kept pouring into his core, overwhelming his light with its sheer force. Memories blurred. Faces, voices faded away. Soon, it would all disappear.

One last desperate attempt. Not at escaping—it was too late for that. But –

"Avia!" he screamed as loud as he could. "Is this really what you want?"

Oliver's Levia consumed his core entirely. His voice vanished into a choked sputter. His arms fell limp by his sides. And his mind drifted away like an untethered balloon, floating somewhere even further than the sun above.