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In one reality. Jonah Magnus leant into his love of knowledge, of watching those around him and knowing their deepest secrets. In another he made another, more violent, choice.
Who needs to control people through knowing things about them, when you could break all of their fingers and achieve a very similar outcome. All it took was yet another party with yet another group of rich rats laughing and making snide comments about him, an anger that almost scared him bubbling up until he took a cake knife to the throat of one of them. They fell quickly and he panted, satisfied over their cooling bodies. It wasn’t regret that filled him once the bloodlust faded, closer to irritation, a mild fear perhaps. He couldn’t kill everyone in the room, even if he had wanted to, far too many of the guests had fled the hall that the party was located in. He had ruined his own life. “It was worth it” a voice whispered in his head like music. Another idle thought led him to carve out the man’s heart and replace it with his own. A messy, frantic business that he barely managed to do before the lack of blood flow killed him. At least he wouldn’t get put in one of those awful prisons, he thought in his last moments.
And then he woke up. A new body, a new life, an old, scarred heart.
A man willing to kill anyone put in front of him and able to never be caught was a valuable ally indeed. A laughing Italian artist and an irritable merchant-sailor who had stayed while the rest of the sheep fled the party made fine allies, even if Jonah would never call them friends. One taken by the fear of heights and the other so deeply entrenched in his own loneliness that Jonah was surprised the man could even bring himself to introduce himself to him.
Centuries passed. Bodies of his victims taken and shed like ill-fitting suits. He would find bodies that he quite liked occasionally, and would do his best to keep them, but all would eventually fall to the curse of old age. Elias had been such a body, he had stayed in that one for almost 20 years by the time he met the youngest Fairchild.
Jonathan couldn’t remember the first time he met Simon, he had been very young when his mother had died and even younger when she had started to spend more time with the Fairchilds, taking her young son with her, in an act even the other Fairchild’s thought was fairly irresponsible.
Even when his mother has passed away, damn the Corruption, Simon still came and visited him at his grandmother’s. Not often of course, but at least once every year or so. There were two main reasons for this.
First, Simon Fairchild was 500 years old and hated being bored. It turns out after so many centuries, quite a few things started to become boring.
Second. Children love getting thrown around. Simon didn’t particularly know why kids were born with a complete lack of fear for his Patron, but it was entertaining to just throw the various Fairchild children around. And as he grew older, Jonathan never seemed to get tired of it or grow scared as other children did. So Simon just kept coming back.
Jon had always been a quiet child, had always been the one bullied rather than the one doing the bullying. Despite Simon’s encouragement, he would never be the sort of child to go pushing the other children off of things, to watch them shriek as they fell. He was the sort of child, however, who would happily look up at the stars for hours and hours, long after he should have been asleep. Simon would join him sometimes, he preferred the endless blue of the day, but he could still appreciate the true eternity of space. He told Jon of his plans for a Space Station, the Daedelus, and that he was looking for someone to send up there, and then had to fend off the enthusiastic pleas to send Jon up there. He only managed to calm the young boy down with the assurance that he needed someone who would be scared of the Vastness of space, not someone who would have “Far too much fun up there”. Anyway, it was going to take quite a while to set up everything, Jon might not be interested in space by then, he teased.
Jon could remember the first person he sent into the Vast in perfect detail, even years later. Bullies had started to leave him alone, not because he wasn’t a target, but because it was hard to do anything to a kid who could climb up onto the roofs of school buildings to escape them. He was about fifteen, walking home from school, when one of the school yard bullies caught sight of him (on solid ground for once) and couldn’t help but race after the younger boy, tackling him to the ground. He looked at the younger teen’s face, expecting tears. Jon had always had dark brown eyes, but to this young bully he was sure that they were fully black, like the pupil had expanded so far as to replace his iris. And in those deep, dark eyes were the twinkling of lights, like the stars in the sky. The world went dark around him, Jon vanished from beneath him and he was suspended in space, surrounded by stars that never seemed to end. No sign of the sky or the ground. Before he began to fall.
And fall.
And fall.
No one ever found the young bully’s body and Jon would never tell, but when Simon came knocking a few days later, he couldn’t help the proud grin on his face when the missing teenager was mentioned.
That bully might have been the first but he was nowhere close to the last. Various bullies and cruel teachers vanished from his school in the time he was there, a habit which continued into University. When his grandmother died, SImon was there with a hand on his shoulder and an invitation to join the Fairchilds that was eagerly accepted. He hadn’t finished University by the time the Daedelus rocket was set off, something he would complain about every time he saw Simon, well into his mid-20’s.
Jon was at home, a rather nice apartment that Simon paid for him, when there was a knock at his door, a glance at who was there and Jon groaned. He’d had fun at University, had dated around a bit before he met Georgie and their almost inevitable break-up and he hadn’t bothered since then. Most of his ex’s were either still friendly or he had sent them into the Vast. An efficient way to get rid of asshole exes, except for one. Jack was an adrenaline Junkie, he loved heights, did not get vertigo and most definitely was not weirded out by the mini planetarium Jon had set up in the unused bedroom of the house he stayed in at University. Jack was harder to get rid of, as proved by the fact that he was knocking at Jon’s door. His normal methods didn’t work on the man and he didn’t want to admit to Simon that he was afraid of a random man, unaffiliated with any of the Powers. Not that it stopped Simon from knowing. Three days into Jon’s self-imposed isolation to avoid the man who was camping outside his doorway, a business card was left on the window sill of an open window.
Elias Bouchard
Problem Solver
And then a number and email.
Unlike Jon, Jack needed to eat and eventually he left, leaving Jon enough time to leave his apartment and flee to one of the spacious Fairchild residences. He called the number on the card, he quite liked his apartment and would like to go back without an ex, who kicked a cat on their way home from the pub once, lurking outside his house.
The voice and the other end was charming, assuring him that Jack would be gone and that there would be no link to himself. He also laughed at Jon’s awkward jokes and stated that he “couldn’t wait to meet him” though he qualified that as that he was excited to meet another friend of Simon’s, but the three second hesitation before he said that was enough to make Jon flush.
Jon honestly forgot about the whole deal until two weeks later. He was still staying in the Fairchild house about an hour away from his apartment, when a sharp knock came from the door. One of his “cousins” went to get the door but came back saying that it was for Jon, one of Simon’s friends.
The man at the door was nothing like what Jon had expected. Well dressed and calm, Bouchard shifted a package so that he could shake Jon’s hand. He handed over the package, and watched as Jon peeled away the paper. Inside lay a still bloody heart.
“As you can see. I dealt with your problem Jonathan.”
“Um, Jon is fine.” he couldn’t stop looking at the heart, dripping blood on the stone steps that lead up to the door. The other man smiled widely.
“Then you must call me Elias.”
Jon just nodded, still morbidly distracted.
“Simon will pay you if that’s your sort of thing.”
“Hmm, normally yes, but for you I will waive the charge. Though I would happily accept payment in the form of a date if you are agreeable?”
Jon looked away from the heart, back to the rather handsome man on his doorstep. He watched as the man’s smile dropped slightly as he stepped back inside. Jon placed the heart down on the side table next to the door, someone else could deal with that he thought, and grabbed his jacket. By the time he stepped back out the front door, shutting it behind him, Elias was fiddling with a knife and looked up at him, surprised.
“Well… Are you busy?”
The knife slipped back up into Elias’s sleeve and the grin came back to his face.
“For you? Never”