The Demon Lord And His Hero

Dark lashes fluttered with unease - like their owner was having a bad dream. Lips that had parted in a whisper of breath, the young professor slipped out of the nightmare that had crept upon him.

His eyes blinked open and the first thing he saw was Syryn dozing off at his work table. It was either very late at night or an unholy hour of the morning, he couldn't tell. The professor shifted on the couch and sat up very slowly. He found that the chill inhabiting his body had disappeared. It meant that Syryn's potion was at least partially successful.

The small sounds of Artemus moving seemed to have roused Syryn as well. The alchemist lazily stretched in his seat and aimed a smile at Artemus.

"How do you feel professor?"

"Energised and well-rested," And like an afterthought, Artemus dryly added, "I thought you were trying to kill me."

With a 'clink', Syryn placed a warm bowl of nutritious soup on the chair before the professor's couch. "I won't begrudge for you coming to that conclusion. I dissociate from my emotions when I'm working - it helps deal with trauma." And it wasn't really a lie.

To increase the efficacy of his decoction, Syryn had gone to great lengths circulating his fire magic through his blood. It had left him fending off the tendencies that came from the other half of his lineage. He had to stay completely detached to stave off the desire to cut Artemus open and check if his insides were as pretty as his outside. That would have definitely counted as trauma for both of them, right?

Thoughtfully nodding, Artemus made eye contact with Syryn like he had something important to say. "We haven't discussed the details of your fees-"

Syryn wasn't willing to take payment from Artemus. He was Alka's big brother and by extension, Syryn's goodwill included the young man. "Let's discuss that after you're healed completely professor," Syryn cut in with a tone that left no room for debate.

"This is a temporary solution till you find your fire demon. I'm estimating that the potion's effects will last until a week so you'll need to drop by for a top-up every weekend," Syryn professionally instructed the professor.

Artemus' eyes were on the neat lines of handwriting pressed into the parchment that Syryn was waving in front of his face. "Buy these ingredients and send them to me as soon as possible. You're going to have to drink medicine every day professor, and you cannot miss a single dose. Can you manage that?"

"I can manage it," Artemus replied sounding a tad bit overwhelmed.

"Good. You'll also have to rest as much as possible. What else are you involved in apart from training us?" Syryn asked pointedly. He hadn't expected Artemus to be forthcoming but the man was surprisingly honest.

"There's a case I'm helping solve, a spate of murders suspected to involve dark rituals. Aside from that, there are a few other projects that I cannot speak about."

"I'm going with my firefly theory," Syryn muttered to himself. If Artemus keeled over and died from exhaustion, Syryn would tell him he deserved it.

"Professor, if you want to die so bad, I could use an extra cadaver to experiment on." Syryn raked his gaze over Artemus like he was measuring out a coffin for him.

That brought a tiny smile from Artemus, a small curve of his lips that could have gone unnoticed on anyone else. Syryn was captured by it for a second.

"You should smile more professor." Or not. Artemus was already attractive enough without having to break hearts with his smile, Syryn mused.

"I'll take the advice under consideration."

The anti mage rose from his seat and the change in him was startling even to Syryn. Just like a coat of illusion that had been discarded, Artemus looked stronger, more tangible, sharper in his outline.

"I have work that awaits," he added by way of explanation, "thank you Syryn for what you've done."

"Sure," Syryn languidly stretched for good measure and escorted Artemus to his coach. When he got close to the hounds, Dani's ears perked up and he licked a wet stripe up Syryn's face.

"Gross," Syryn complained and pushed the hound's face away from his own.

"He likes you. I think you mistook his friendliness for aggression." Artemus informed Syryn. With a sharp stab of guilt, he realised that Artemus was right. There had been no malice or killing intent in Dani's charge and the hound had taken a kick for no good reason. He made a note then to buy some meat for the hound.

"Syryn," The professor's tone was businesslike again, "I'm no alchemist but I understand that you had to substitute demon blood with something else similar in property and rarity." His dark eyes were unreadable but Syryn had a sinking feeling that Artemus would be thinking inexorably about what was being sent into his body. "You've made it clear that my help is unnecessary but it puts me in a very awkward position to let you supply rare materials."

Artemus had more to say but his attention was immediately snapped away by a feeling of oppression that crowded against the place they stood.

"Syryn, get inside the house." He spoke, low and sharp. Ignoring the order, the younger boy stayed rooted to his spot. If something or someone was targeting his patient, he wanted to help. With a firm grip on his arm, the professor pushed Syryn behind him when they heard nearly silent footfalls.

Unexpectedly, an object bounced on the ground and came rolling to their feet. It was a spherical device that could fit snugly in Syryn's palms. When he caught sight of the markings on it, the younger boy's eyes went wide. He reached out to grab the professor but the gold sphere had started vibrating. In a dizzying motion that spun the world around, Syryn was sucked inside the sphere.

He really regretted grabbing Artemus! The object was a puzzle box and it had sucked them both into its prison.

When the world around him solidified, Syryn looked about inside the puzzle box and found that they could have done worse. Their prison was on the inside of a glass ball that was surrounded by water on all sides. And just as he wondered why Artemus was staring at him oddly, the man spoke.

"Who are you?" The was a mixture of shock and something unreadable in Artemus' stare.

"What?"

Artemus hadn't blinked at all from the moment their eyes met. Oh, Syryn thought. Ooooh.

Syryn had forgotten what puzzle boxes were capable of. Inside one, illusions and secrets were laid bare. The box revealed the truth of its captive's soul. This meant that Syryn was now revealed as his true adult self, a reflection of his soul. It was a good thing that he wasn't originally born a baby with horns and wings!

"Who am I? I should be asking you that. How did I get stuck inside a puzzle box with you?" Syryn replied calmly. It had taken all but 2 seconds for him to decide to lie.

The confusion on Artemus' face would have been comical if they weren't neck-deep in a life threatening situation. The only way they'd ever make it out was if someone released them by solving the puzzle box. There was no way to break out from the inside. Syryn knew that truth better than anyone else because he had been imprisoned in one before.

"There was a kid with me. How did you get swapped with him?" Artemus questioned, face set in grim lines. Syryn could see the worry clear as day in the young professor's eyes.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I was minding my own business when I appeared in this."

His answer only got him a sharp glance from Artemus. Everything about the situation was confusing and wrong to the young professor who was trying to grasp at a logical explanation as to what had happened.

"This isn't how puzzle boxes work. I've never heard of one that pulled in victims who weren't in physical contact." Artemus voiced out to himself. His gaze on Syryn was intent and burning, like he wanted to extract the answers from the man.

"You talk as if you're privy to the mechanisms of these cursed objects." Syryn dryly delivered.

Artemus quieted in thought and made no reply to Syryn's veiled jibe. He turned his back to the alchemist and stared out past the glass.

This was going to be boring, Syryn thought. His mind floated back to their silent carriage rides and mourned the lack of landscape to look at.

"Who imprisoned you here, pretty boy?" Syryn asked in a bored tone. He wasn't sure who the attacker had intended to trap inside here. That was the worst part of it.

"I'm talking to you, tall brooding man. Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes I did and I ignored you fine the first time," Artemus replied cool as a cucumber.

How annoying! Syryn decided to make the professor's life miserable while they were stuck inside here. At least it would help pass the time.

"What's your name by the way?" Syryn asked.

When silence answered him, he continued, "So you're just going to ignore me then?" And because Artemus was Syryn's patient, one that he was nurturing carefully with his own blood, Syryn did not drop kick him from the back like he wanted to.

"You know what? I'm really good at face reading. I can tell from your eyebrows that you're an anti mage."

Surprisingly, that got Artemus' attention. Syryn could see his back go stiff. "Am I wrong?"

Silence.

"Is it just me or did the glass orb shrink?" Syryn wasn't sure but it felt like the top of the orb was much closer to the professor's head than he had originally thought.

Artemus grimly replied, "it's shrinking."

This meant either of two things, someone had found the box and was trying to solve the puzzle, or it was the second possibility that Syryn did not want to think about - their captor was intending to squeeze them to death very slowly. Good news or bad news? Syryn buried his face in his hands and groaned. They were so screwed.