The Demon Lord And His Hero

[Sage! Wake the fuck up! I'm about to get executed in the abyss!] The mage wore a calm facade even as he screamed internally. Not that he knew what the abyss was but he didn't want to die so young.

"Very well. The human will be fed to the abyss tomorrow. Gather before the statue of Lusha at the hour of the sun."

[I ran my mouth because you said you wouldn't let me die! We're both going to die now. Were you lying to me?!] Syryn screeched inside his mind. [How old am I anyway? I probably haven't even done the deed with anyone! I can't die a virgin!] He said, unaware that his precious chrysanthemum had already been plucked a dashing blond anti mage who was losing his mind on the surface world.

Despite Syryn's attempts at calling out the unreliable sage, his head was a chamber of echoing emptiness. Still, he felt the sage's presence with him and it gave him a measure of comfort.

Syryn's bland face was a sore sight to the dissatisfied mers who wanted to see him plead, beg, and even cry for mercy.. There was no reaction to the pronounced judgement of his fate and it rubbed them the wrong way.

How dare he not fear death? How dare he accept his impending execution with uncharacteristic grace and silence?

Syryn's thigh ached where it had been stabbed. He was yanked to his feet and forced to walk through the narrow gap that afforded him separation from bloodthirsty mers.

[Fuck it then. I'll have to rescue myself.]

_____

Artemus' relentless investigations netted him two pieces of vital information. One, Syryn had boarded the Fool's Noose. Two, the Fool's Noose never reached its destination. The only logical inference that one would glean from combining the two instances was an unacceptable one to the anti mage. It told him that the ship had downed and sunk to a watery grave.

The anti mage was seated in the hound coach, his white-knuckled hands gripping a parchment. His fingers trembled from a cocktail of shock and grief that flooded his system. Syryn couldn't be dead, he told himself. It was Syryn, an unkillable force of nature.

He bowed his head, massaging his forehead with long pale fingers. Artemus wished he had stayed ignorant, not knowing that Syryn was onboard the missing ship. At least that way he could convince himself that Syryn was out there somewhere. Now he had to break the news to Rowan who would no doubt take it worse than him.

Artemus was distraught but Rowan would be crushed. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat and dreaded the meeting with Rowan. Could he put it off till he confirmed the sinking of the Fool's Noose? No, he thought. It was unfair to Rowan. If he was in the blond's position, he would have wanted early news of Syryn even if it was bad news.

_____

Rowan had spent more than a week agonising over Syryn's missing status. He needed to tear down walls and blitz through whatever it was that separated him from his mage. But the anti mage was like a boat drifting in the ocean without direction.

Rowan would have made a beeline straight for Coop Island but if Syryn wasn't on the island then it meant he would lose almost a month travelling back and forth chasing a false lead. The best course of action for him was to stay put and wait for Artemus to sniff out where Syryn had disappeared to. Even knowing that, he was restless day and night. Every day that passed by without news of Syryn ratcheted up his anxiety.

The anti mage was unaware that he was about to learn about Syryn's fate, news that would end his current misery but put him on a path of suffering that would expose more of the darkness that he was hiding away.

Rapid knocking on his door pulled Rowan out of his tangled thoughts. Artemus pushed the door open and walked in looking paler than he ever had.

"You have news." Rowan was a mask of marble.

Artemus sat down and faced the impassive anti mage who was already mentally preparing himself to hear bad news.

"Syryn was on a ship called the Fool's Noose," Artemus said to him in calm tones. It was for both their sakes that the dark-eyed anti mage had shut away his emotions. "The ship was headed to Coop island but it never reached its destination."

Fluttering eyelids with thick gold lashes fell like a curtain over bright blue eyes. The silence that expanded outward and enveloped the room was loud with the sounds of their heartbeats thudding painfully against their chests. Neither anti mage was ready to accept that Syryn was gone though everything indicated at trouble and death.

"When did the ship leave harbour?" Rowan asked. His eyes had gone cold. The blond packed away the panic that was bubbling up his throat like acid. Until Syryn's lifeless body, or what was left of it, was in his hands, Rowan was going to hold on to the hope that his mage was alive.

"Nearly a month has passed, Rowan."

The blond anti mage nodded then stood up. "Thank you for all you've done, Artemus. I'm going to look for Syryn."

"Where will you even begin the search?" The dark-eyed anti mage asked. A ship missing out in the ocean left no trails to follow. Sure he had found out what had happened to Syryn but they were still clueless about his location. The anti mage felt like an utter failure.

Rowan turned away from the anti mage who stood up to follow him.

"The mers would know," Rowan replied. "They are the eyes of the ocean."

"You're going to Silisia?"

"Yes. Syryn isn't dead, Artemus. I will find him and bring him home." The blond's words rang true with a conviction that comforted the grief-stricken anti mage.

"I'll keep searching for leads from here," Artemus replied. "Take a beacon with you so that I can send news through the birds.