Work Text:
Nothing ever really ends. Life is a cycle. Birth death, rebirth. Energy constantly changing, exchanging, reshaping endlessly. . The arcane, as all chaotic systems are, is unpredictable. Was it divine intervention? Had they simply met some unknowable condition? Was it predestination? It didn’t matter. In the end, as all endings are, it was only the beginning.
It starts like this:
A blinding light, the sharp zing of energy ripping apart atoms, and then, nothing. No thought, no awareness, no sense of anything.
And then, an ache.
And then, energy taking shape, the universe molding a form from particles severed from themselves.
And then, a body. Not new but recreated from whatever memory the atoms of the previous form had remembered.
Slowly, limbs regained weight, skin regained feeling, a heart began to beat. As if still prying consciousness from that in between space took every bit of energy newly returned, Jayce opened his eyes.
Slowly, and then all at once, breath filled his lungs in a sharp inhale. He shut his eyes again, pain lancing through his head. Too bright, there at the top of the world. Red behind his eyelids, a breeze sweeping over his face. Jayce lay still, gathering himself before cracking his eyes open again, slowly this time. Once adjusted to the light, he took in the blue of the sky. A sharp contrast to the boiling clouds overhead when he had knelt in front of Viktor.
Viktor.
Thought, the only conscious thought since being returned to this plane, stuttered through him. Jayce lurched up and forward. Where was Viktor? He couldn’t be far. They’d held on to each other so tightly, foreheads pressed together, arms embracing, hands grasped together.
Jayce sat upright and looked around. He was still atop the Hexgate. The ruins of the roof a precarious edge he carefully rolled away from, getting to his knees. Another sharp stab of pain through his left leg, his body had been returned but not without its recent injuries.
Finally on his feet, though winded with the effort of it, Jayce breathed deeply and scanned the area. A breath caught in his throat when his gaze landed on a shape out of place among the rubble. He staggered forward on foal’s legs. The edge of the dark blue cloth flapped gently on the breeze, a sliver of something fleshy.
Jayce reached the form and fell to his knees once more. He reached out a hand, trembling and hesitant before he touched. A shoulder, skin mottled in strange scarring. He pressed down a little to roll the body onto its back. A face. Long strands of hair clinging to the mouth. Breath filling lungs, a chest rising and falling.
Jayce broke. He pressed his forehead into Viktors, hand still grasping his shoulder. Something raw and wild clawed its way through him and out his lips with a ragged, wretched sob. He moved to press his face into the blanket, his blanket, covering Viktors abdomen. Tears dripped from his eyes soaking the soft cloth.
It could have been minutes or hours. Jayce’s sobs quieted but never stopped. His throat was sore, eyes puffy. His leg screamed in pain. He couldn’t bear to move.
And then.
A puff of breath. A small groan.
“Jayce…”
He raised his face at the whisper. Bright gold met hazel eyes. Jayce’s tears renewed tenfold. He pressed into the hollow of Viktors bare throat, lips moving, voice shaking.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A hand pressed into the back of his head, cradling him there.
“Jayce, my Jayce.” Viktors voice cut through the silence. Jayce pulled back, leaving a small puddle at the base of Viktor’s neck. His voice was barely more than a whisper, the familiar lilt of his accent soft in Jayce’s ears. Entirely human. The metallic undertone that had been present since he clawed his way through the hexcore’s cocoon was gone. Only Viktor remained.