Stormy Skies

Title: Stormy Skies
Chapter: Five - Shown
Word Count: 6,398
Warnings: A certain short blond fellow being a bit of a bitch, infidelity!

Oi, sorry for the delay. Rather than making up many pointless and cliché excuses, how about I just say that life got in the way, and be done with that whole bit? That okay with you guys? Cool.

HAHA BET YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS DEAD, HUH? Well, it’s not. I’m bringing it back like it’s 1985. Hell yeah.

Don’t give up on this - I’m warning y’all now that updates are going to be spaced pretty far apart. If I ever do stop work on the story, it will be noted in my profile and I’ll post a notice here in the story itself. So you’ll know if I quit.

Also, I’m keeping a progress count for this story in my profile, so if you’re wondering where I am in completing the next chapter, just check there.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are really just the best. I really hope to keep hearing from you all, in spite of my rather lengthy vacation. =_=;;

And as for this chappy, please excuse any dumb typos/errors you may stumble across. I are a bad reviser.

Anyway, here’s the next chapter, at last! Please enjoy!

~~~~
Chapter Five - Shown

The world on the other side of the divide was of a bizarre construction. Not constrained within the same boundaries as the material world, it was free to be shifted as its residents saw fit. A land to the gods, it was like a mold to be shaped by the minds of the immortals. The only real natural force was magic, and it was weaved into the dimension’s very fibers.

The magical dimension did not exist as a flat plane of reality, as the material one. Rather, it moved in a series of pockets which were, very nearly, dimensions of their own. Connected by fibrous, ethereal conduits, each pocket was like a one-way mirror: from the outside it appeared as the pocket it truly was, while from the inside it seemed to stretch infinitely, its own world.

Each immortal ruled over one such pocket, and had absolute command over its inner workings. Occurrences inside the pockets often did not abide by any kind of logic, other than that of the will of its owner. Magic was a force of entropy - it remained scattered and raw until its fibers were arranged properly to complete a task. It could do or become anything, and required no rhyme or reason. Magic represented the effect that could happen with no cause.

So, should an immortal wish to have sunlight in their own world when no star was there to provide it, it was not hard to simply arrange the fibers of their little pocket of existence to create the desired effect. Which was precisely what the Raiser had done for his own dimension. Though hidden behind the endless, angry grey clouds of his ever-lasting imminent storm, the magical sunlight managed to make itself known in the form of a dull, overcast day. The Storm King’s dwelling sat in the center of his world, ready to be doused in the hazy light.

The sky had slowly begun to grow brighter by small degrees, until the small, crowded bedchamber was dimly lit with it. The window the Raiser had brought to the chamber the night before was large and uncovered, and allowed the thin light to pass freely through its thick glass. The two sleeping figures that laid close on the large bed had their backs turned to the opening, and slumbered lightly through the early morning hours, undisturbed by the somewhat brightened room.

Though, after a time, it was the Raiser who stirred first.

The small King rose from sleep quickly. His senses had first become aware of his pet’s enticing scent, which had quickly pulled him into consciousness. Allowing his eyes to slide open slowly, he lazed in the comfort of his bed before leisurely turning his gaze to his acquired human.

The man slumbered soundly, his mouth slightly ajar and his small pair of glasses sitting crooked on his nose. Alex had shifted in the night, moving form his side to his back, and he laid with one arm flung upon the mattress at his side and the other draped loosely across his belly. Smiling to himself, the blond gingerly corrected his pet’s glasses with meticulous fingers, and contentedly observed his sleep-slackened features.

Unconscious, the dark-haired human looked wonderfully tranquil. The Raiser was sure it was the quietest he’d ever seen him. Unable to resist, the Storm King carefully leaned over the sleeping man to softly press his lips against his temple, then his lips. Alex hardly stirred in response, and continued to doze soundly.

The blond let his head fall against his pet’s shoulder and snaked his slim arms around the taller man once more, as they had been the night before. He briefly considered rousing his pet, but opted to instead allow the man to continue to sleep. His body was, in all likeliness, still drained from crossing the divide, and his mind was surely taxed with all the new information he had recently learned. A little sleep would be useful for his toy.

The Raiser laid contentedly with his pet for a long while, absentmindedly stroking his hand along the man’s side and considering what he might do for the day. There were no pressing matters that needed to be seen to - the skies were quiet in both his own world as well as the other. Still, he supposed he would observe the Concellum, simply to see what the skies were up to. Afterwards, he would have the whole day to focus on his pet. The thought caused a smile to spread across to blond’s features.

After a long while spent in the sleepy silence, the Storm King was happy when Alex began to stir. The taller man groaned groggily, lazily moving his head from side to side in an attempt to ward off wakefulness. At last, though, he succumbed, and yawned loudly as he woke. With his eyes still closed, Alex attempted to turn onto his side, but stopped when he felt a large mass preventing him from doing so.

Sleepy confusion furrowing his brow, the dark-haired man’s eyes slowly flitted open, and he turned his head to see what was in his way.

Alex’s gaze fell upon a large, somewhat blurry mass of deep golden hair, causing his brow to furrow further. He suddenly became aware of the delicate set of arms wrapped around his midriff, and the smaller body pressed against his side. Blinking several times, his drowsy mind churned rapidly to make sense of the situation. Then, all at once, his memory of the previous night came rushing back. Eyes widening as he realized who was pressed against him, the dark-haired man made a sharp sound of surprise and jumped to move away.

The Raiser smiled at Alex’s reaction and held him tight, preventing his pet from successfully escaping the bed. Turning his head upward to look the taller man in the eyes, the blond smiled pleasantly, greatly amused by the mixture of shock, annoyance, anger, and alarm that was floating in the coppery pools.

And so had ended his pet’s tranquility.

“So eager to jump out of bed, my dear?” he questioned softly, resting his chin on Alex’s shoulder. He nearly chuckled at the swell of annoyance that made itself clear on Alex’s features. “I was quite comfortable, you know.”

“What are you doing? You were over there!” The human made a vague gesture towards the other side of the bed. “Get off!”

“Such harsh language,” The blond replied, wrinkling his nose. Alex struggled a bit, trying to fight his owner’s unusual strength.

“Oh, get off, would you!”

“Watch you tongue.” It was a short rebuke, but nevertheless effective. Alex stilled his struggling. Unhurriedly disentangling himself from the other’s body, the Raiser gave a languid stretch before propping himself onto to his elbows, small rounded chin sitting atop his laced fingers. He gazed at his pet with smile-squinted eyes. “So, what shall I do with you today?” His tone was playful and teasing. Alex, however, failed to be amused by the inquiry.

Upon seeing his pet’s stony-faced response to the question, the blond exhaled audibly through his nose and moved to sit up, carefully arranging his sleep-disheveled robe. “You know,” he spoke offhandedly, “you really can be quite stubborn at times, pet.”

You’re hardly one to be speaking, Alex thought tersely, but refrained from voicing his response.

He idly watched the smaller man fiddle with the various aspects of his appearance - his robe, his hair - and toss the plush covers aside to move towards the edge of the vast bed. It was then that Alex noticed, (annoyed,) that the room had returned to its normal state. A wide space separated the bed frame from the furniture-lined walls, and the two open entrances to the bathroom were unsealed and back in their places. A cross expression flashed across Alex’s face at the King’s convenient manipulations. As his eyes continued to dash about the room, he noticed something else that had not been there when he’d fallen asleep the night before - a window.

“You… where’d that come from?” He questioned suddenly, eyes directed at the large window. The Raiser turned to glance in the direction of his pet’s gaze.

“Ah… something I thought you might appreciate.” He stood, stretching once more.

“You put that there?” Alex spoke his question incredulously, but, honestly, he was beginning to learn to accept the oddities of his new home. He was not pleased as he realized that fact.

“Yes, for you to see the world you now belong to.”

“Oh.” he replied. Then: “Well. How considerate of you.” The words were spoken in sarcasm.

“Hm,” was all the blond managed to return. He seemed disinterested in replying to the curt remark.

Alex spent the next several moments observing the stormy world outside, before his owner’s voice pricked in his ears once more. He turned his gaze to locate the smaller man as he spoke, finding him opening the doors to his great wardrobe. “As you seem to be quite awake, now,” he said, “rather than offering me your disrespect, your time might be better spent helping me dress.”

“Helping you dress?” Alex spat.

“Watch your tone, human. I only wish to lay my hands on you in pleasure, not punishment.”

The taller sat silent and phased by the warning for a moment, before continuing. “Yes, I - I see your point - but, I mean, surely you don’t need my help with that, right? I mean, you’ve managed for all this time-”

“No need to fret your silly little soul, my dear. I only mean for you to choose my fashions.”

“…Your fashions? You mean, like, your clothes? What you’re going to wear?”

“That’s correct,” the smaller turned to face him from where he stood on the other side of the room. “Now, come.” He pointed to the floor beside him with a delicate finger, as though Alex were a trained hunting hound.

Alex nearly snapped off a remark at the gesture, but minded himself and decided that it was better, perhaps, to simply obey. It’s too early in the morning to get into an argument, he mused as he tossed the covers from his lap. He figured it was better to save up his fight for when it really mattered - surely the King would ask him to do something far more offensive later.

He stood and walked to the wardrobe.

The Raiser folded his arms across his slight, youthful chest and gestured towards the wardrobe’s contents with one hand. “So, pet,” he said with a small, playful smile on his lips, “what shall your master wear today?” Alex’s eyes moved from the blond’s hand to the hanging garments.

He observed them as he had the night before, when retrieving the towel and washing rag. As he slowly scanned the robes, shirts, and trousers, he was once again struck with the odd sensation of the small King seeming strangely human. For a rude, dangerous immortal guised as a young man, gazing at his closet, one couldn’t help but feel his wardrobe was in some peculiar way typical and expected. Yes, there was an extravagance and pomp to his clothes, but they weren’t so unpredictable. Almost humdrum, even. Banal in their own, kingly way.

Alex quickly shooed the thoughts from his mind, not wishing to allow the Storm King to seem human or relatable in the least. He was a monster, an abductor, and a demon; Alex was going to make sure he stayed that way.

Quickly, the dark-haired man selected two garments from the wardrobe: an earthy-hued pair of brown suede trousers with jagged-lined gold embroidery all around the seams, and a casual white cotton shirt with sensually embossed brass buttons running down the front, modest ruffles at the collar and sleeves, and several jewels sewn into where a left breast pocket would usually reside. They were the two plainest articles he could find. Slowly, he offered them to the small man with an outstretched arm.

The Raiser seemed to observe the selections for several long moments before accepting them with a nod of approval. “What simple and elegant tastes my pet seems to have,” he spoke with a humorous smile.
Alex ignored the statement. I don’t need to be word-rewarded like a dog.

The small King draped the clothes onto the foot of the bed mattress before, quite suddenly, undoing the tie of his night robe and dropping the fabric from his shoulders. It landed in a cloud-like mass on the lushly carpeted floor with a faint, feathery plat. Gaping for one brief, flabbergasted moment at the Raiser’s utterly bared body, Alex felt his cheeks come alive in a blood-red heat before hurriedly ripping his gaze away, pointedly directing it somewhere else. He turned and it landed on the large window, his back facing the disrobed blond. Flustered, he sputtered out a small, “Oh my god!” in the aftermath of the incident.

Amidst the soft ruffling of fabric, Alex heard a quiet chuckling emanating from behind him. “Modesty is a habit you will have to shed quickly, my dear boy.” Still blushing, Alex disregarded the comment and remained transfixed on the window, and the view beyond its thick glass.

As the moments slowly ticked by, the dark-haired man forced his thoughts away from the recent and embarrassing occurrence as best he could. He steadily began to grow more focused on the outside world, until he actually became attentive to it. Staring out the past the window’s glossy panes, an uneasy feeling settled itself into the pit of Alex’s belly.

Outside, all he could see was sky. It seemed to be day, but the faint sunlight was heavily masked by the thick, fiery grayness of storm clouds, all churning and surging with static and icy wetness. They flickered with small, dull bursts of lightening every now and again, displaying their readiness for action. The more he stared, the more tense Alex became, and he expected to hear a shattering blast of thunder at any moment.

It looked as though the entire palace was about to be submerged in a vicious and brutal storm.

“Is there a storm coming?” Alex asked tentatively, his voice a bit wobbly. He wasn’t sure why, but he had the sense that, wherever they were in the large stone dwelling, they were quite high up. He certainly didn’t want to be in the middle of the sky when the impending violence arrived.

The Raiser gave the deepest laugh his alto voice would provide. It was hearty and came from deep within his chest, displaying his great amusement at the question. When he was finished, he answered, “There’s always a storm coming.”

“Always?” the nervousness had receded a bit, but was still subtly present in the taller man’s words. “What do you mean? That it’s always like this?” Alex heard the smile in the King’s voice as he replied.

“Always.”

Suddenly there was a small set of hands running up Alex’s sides and shoulders, delicately massaging the skin at the nape of his neck. Words were whispered quietly into his ear, lips brushing like smoke-colored velvet against his flesh. “Out there - that is my lovely storm-beast,” said the small King, a tremor rocketing its way up Alex’s spine. “It can destroy the greatest city, douse the wildest fire, rip down the tallest mountain until only its dusty roots remain…” Something warm and wet drew itself slowly along the shell of Alex’s ear, quickly followed by a pair of pressing lips. The Raiser continued softly. “It is my loyal beast. My beautiful killer. You should see it, my toy - I will show it to you sometime. It will terrify and awe you.”

Alex, who had been too stunned by the sudden contact, and then too tense and warmly uneasy to pull away, felt one of the hands move to his shoulder, turning him round. Just as he saw the smaller man come down from on tiptoes, he was struck with a reeling sense of humiliation and self-disgust. He’d… he’d just let the brat do that…!

He stepped away quickly, bringing his hands up defensively. The Storm King stood before him, now fully dressed in his elegantly ornamented trousers and shirt. Both articles fit him well, the shirt tucked and puffed in all the right places, the pants wrapped around his slim hips and thighs with an enticing, sensual snugness. His head was cocked to the side, a mischievously quizzical look on his face. He oddly reminded Alex of a feline creature, who’s eyes were trained intently on a pet canary, high up in a cage.

They stood and quietly observed each other for several silent moments, before the Raiser abruptly turned away. He bent and reached into the wardrobe for a pair of soft black leather boots, sitting himself daintily onto the edge of the mattress and slipping them onto his feet. The bootlegs traveled to his mid-calves, and laced up the sides with goldthread-woven string to a silver bead rimmed cuff. Alex watched the smaller man’s fingers work deftly at the ties, completing the lacing in a matter of minutes.

The Raiser rose and stood before his pet, who was still silent with unease.

“Well,” he said suddenly in his smooth, honey-flavored voice, “I’m sure you have an appetite. Dress yourself, and we shall leave for breakfast.” He pulled another plain slave robe from the wardrobe, closing its doors and handing the garment to Alex.

Alex accepted the offering in silence, staring unsteadily at his captor for a few moments more. He then turned quickly on his heal, and made for the lavatory.
~~

Breakfast had been a strange affair. Finally allowed to leave the bedchamber, Alex had followed the Storm King as he lead him to a different room within the blond’s personal dwelling chambers. Much resembling a European Victorian-style dinning room, the new space was filled with all kinds of fine, small details and long, bowing fabric draperies. A series of warm and cool blue velvets decorated the walls and table chairs, refracting the brightly flickering candlelight with hazy delicacy. Above the highly polished mahogany dining table hung a wrought iron chandelier, which held a nearly unfathomable amount of crimson colored candles. Its long branches reminded Alex of spider’s legs, thin and crooked and twining all around each other at odd angles, and decorated with thin veins of gold leaf running across their surfaces.

Upon walking in, Alex had found the room both welcoming and foreboding at once.

Similar to the previous morning, the Raiser had summoned one of the squat blue beasts and instructed it to bring a tray of food to Alex. Upon receiving the offering, the taller had discovered himself ravenously hungry. He realized, belatedly, that he had not eaten since the previous morning. If I’m going to be this brat’s ‘pet’, he thought as he worked his way through a buttered biscuit, the least he could do is learn how to feed me.

Alex had also noticed that a tray of food had not been brought to the Raiser himself, which had aroused his curiosity. He’d not, however, bothered to pursue the topic.

After he’d finished his meal, the blond had summoned another beast to remove the tray. They sat quietly, after that.

“…Not hungry?” Alex questioned quickly, wishing to avoid an uneasy silence. The smaller man rested his chin in his palm and tucked his legs beneath him.

“Not for food,” he replied with a lecherous grin. Upon seeing the rude retort forming itself in his pet’s expression, the King continued before the remark had a chance to escape. “I take no energy from material substances,” he briefly explained, “though I can consume them if I so wish.”

“So you don’t eat?”

“I’ve no functional need to do so, no. But I can for the pleasure of it.”

“Oh.” Another moment before Alex spoke again. “So then how do you… uh, I don’t know, sustain yourself?” The Raiser made an abstract looping gesture with his hand that seemed to represent the entire room, or, more largely, the entire palace.

“My world sustains me,” he replied lazily, loosing interest in the conversation. “Its magic is my magic. My storm-beast feeds me. The elements of your world give me purpose and existence. I exist because your world exists; this world exists because I exist. You see?”

“Um, not quite.”

“Yes, well, you’ve no need to.” The Raiser shifted suddenly, rising from his place at the table. “Now, how would you like a small tour of your new home?”

Alex, not quite finished with the previous topic, pressed on. “Wait, no, explain this to me. I want to know more.” The blond sighed, clearly disinterested.

“So stubborn,” he admonished quietly. Placing a hand on his trouser-clad hips, he offered Alex a stern expression. “I’m afraid there is little to explain, pet. Little for you to understand, at any rate. I am sustained through magical means, not physical. The workings of magic are not ideas that are easily clasped by your kind, and so there is little worth in explaining them.”

Why so adverse? Alex wondered with a furrowed brow. Have I touched on something I’m not supposed to? “I was just curious,” he said, a little dejectedly. He’d really wanted to know.

The Storm King felt the disappointment radiating from his pet’s mind, but brushed it away. I am not obligated to explain this to him, he thought firmly. My business is my own. Deciding not to let the topic linger, the blond made to change the subject. “Rise. I wish to show you your new dwellings.”

Alex stared at the smaller man resentfully for a few moments before doing as he was told, standing. He suddenly noticed that the room’s exit was far closer to them than it had been mere seconds earlier, and he found that he quickly accepted the change. Funny, how fast you can grow used to some things, he pondered idly as he followed the King out of the room.

The Storm King took him on a brief, (and, truly, it was brief,) tour of the places he was allowed to travel freely though within the living chamber’s walls. The list was short; Alex had free access to the dining and bed rooms, which was expected. Oddly, though, the King had allowed him access to some other places as well - the library was one of those places. It was a round room with two levels, its walls packed heavily with the bindings of books, and three large chandeliers hanging from its high ceiling. The other place was an office of sorts. A long room with a hearth at the far end, its two long walls were lined and packed with books as well, but before the heath sat several comfortable-looking chairs and a desk stacked high with empty parchment, pens, and night-black ink. This room interested Alex greatly - the thought of having paper and ink available to him was, in some strange way, a relief.

When they came to a final room - this one with a door that was closed and locked tightly - Alex looked to the small King with slight interest, and wondered what was on the other side. He was, of course, annoyed over the fact that he was being restricted to certain areas like a toddler, but this room had caught his attention.

“Now, this room,” the Raiser began, eyes trained on his pet, “is quite important. You may visit here if you need, though you must ask my permission first. And I warn you, I am inclined to say no.”

“Then why are you showing it to me?” Alex questioned, irritated.

“Because, I thought it something you might find interesting.” The King lifted his hand, closed it into a fist, and reopened it. Upon his previously empty palm rested a small, silver key. Its teeth were jagged and long, and brought thoughts of needles to Alex’s mind. He was suddenly made wary of the room.

Opening the door with the key, the Raiser pushed the door inward and stepped aside. Alex stepped carefully into the room.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he felt it.

There was something powerful inside the room. Like suddenly being submerged in thick, lukewarm water, he could feel its presence wash over him, making him feel weak and unpleasant. Whatever it was, it was so incredibly huge - words wildly flashed through his mind, uncontrolled, as he desperately tried to understand it.

What is this? He desperately tried to label it; it was giant, it was great - it was somehow more, somehow true. It heaved the breath from his lungs with the softest of touches. It was all around him, and it was right in front of him. Close and far. It made him feel hollow with how unimaginably absolute it was - it was raw, pure thought, pure power. The most basic and complex of feelings. It overrode him like a pebble in a waterfall, showed him in the most obvious of ways how flimsy and small and made of glass he was. And it was part of him, above him, through him, and completely separate from him.

Gasping, Alex realized his eyes had been open for the past several minutes, but had not yet seen the room. He’d been far too overthrown by its sensation. As his vision slowly came into focus, he was finally able to take in his surroundings.

The room was large and perfectly square, the ceiling squat and low. Empty of any furniture or decoration, the walls, ceiling, and floor were all a stark, bleak white. The only objects to be found were a small, round, two-step platform in the center of the floor and, suspended strangely above it, a thin sliver hoop which sat flawlessly still in midair.

Upon seeing it, Alex knew that the hoop was somehow the epicenter of this powerful, raw feeling.

“What… is that?” he questioned, gasping. He wasn’t sure if he was very fond of it.

“The Concellum,” the Raiser replied softly, stepping in behind Alex and closing the door. “My window to all the places outside my world. From here, I can observe any place I like - including your world.” Alex had so many questions dashing through his mind, he could hardly form them.

“What? But, how? What is - how could it - what is it, though? I don’t, I mean, I can’t - it’s so…” He stopped when the blond placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Hush, my pet. I know it is much for you. This is the device I used to watch you for all those years, and the same one I use to observe and control the weather of your planet. It is called the Concellum. Every immortal has one in their possession.”

Taking a brief moment to quickly gather his thoughts, Alex licked his lips and finally managed a coherent sentence. “But, what is it? What’s it made of? It feels like… like, power, or, I don’t know, like heat, but not the kind you feel, the kind you… think, or-”

“Magic,” the King replied, stopping the man before he became tangled in his own thoughts. “What you’re feeling is raw magic. Unorganized, waiting to be told what to do. Do you recall when I described the divide to you?”

Alex nodded distractedly. He did recall that - the blond had said it was the magical lining that separated the magical dimension from the substantial one, that is was fibrous and ethereal, and very dangerous to cross.

The Raiser continued, pointing to the hovering silver hoop. “The Concellum is there, in the center of the wheel. I don’t suspect you can see it. It’s made of the same material as the divide - you see, pet, magic is fibrous, like threads. I simply need to arrange the threads to see what I wish to see. My Concellum allows me to do that. Do you understand?”

Alex processed the words he’d just been told. “No,” he finally concluded, “That hardly makes any sense at all.” The blond only sighed, a small smirk playing across his features.

“As I said,” he spoke matter-of-factly, “your kind often cannot comprehend the workings of magic.”

Alex snapped his gaze onto the smaller man, eyeing him moodily. “Why did you take me here? I want to leave. Take me away.”

“Not quite yet,” the Storm King stepped forward, toward the center of the room, where the hoop sat suspended. “I want you to use it once. Feel it.” The taller man blanched at the mere thought.

“I’m already feeling it.”

“Hardly.”

“Why? What’s the point? You said I can’t understand it. Why do you want me to feel it?”

“Because one doesn’t need to understand magic to respect it,” the Raiser replied, stopping just short of the small platform. He turned to face Alex. “And this is my magic. What I’m made of. And you must respect it.” The blond took several moments to drink in the frightened expression on his pet’s face. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. “Now, what would you like to see?”

“What?”

“The Concellum acts as a looking glass. Name something you wish to see.”

“Like… from home?”

“If you wish, yes.” The Storm King’s eyes sat unblinkingly on Alex, expectant.

Alex searched his mind wildly for ideas. After several long moments spent searching, he was suddenly hit with a wave of mortification. A whole life on Earth, he thought shamefully, and not one family member or friend I really want to see one last time? No wonder I seemed like someone worth kidnapping. After another few seconds of desperate indecision, he finally settled on the only person he could think of. “Danny,” he said at last, “Show me Danny.”

The Raiser make a sour expression. “That pathetic toad?” he spat, but quickly followed the statement with, “If you wish, toy.”

Alex made to head toward the platform, but the smaller man stopped him. “Don’t come near,” he warned. “The Concellum’s ring of power encircles the entire platform. If you stepped into it now, it would shatter you.”

“What?” Alex exclaimed, now even more troubled by the idea of using the strange magical device than he had been a moment before.

“It would break your mind,” the King stepped onto the platform and rounded to the other side of the silver hoop. “I must first focus its vision, or else you shall see everything. Every part of every world. Your mind is not built for magic - it would be destroyed.” Alex swallowed something thick down his gullet.

“Are… you sure this is safe for me?” he asked unsteadily.

“Do not worry,” the Raiser closed his eyes, “I will make it so.”

Alex watched warily as the blond took a deep breath inward, and released it slowly. The room was quiet and still for a moment, but then the taller man felt a shift in the atmosphere. His vision when hazy and muddled, as though he’d just suffered a blow to the head, and at first he was worried some kind of damage had been done to him. But, a second later, he realized it wasn’t his vision, but the air. All around him, the room simmered as though it were sitting on blacktop on a hot day. He stumbled to the side, a bit unsteady.

In those few moments, the power he’d originally felt upon entering the room seemed broader, bigger, more important. Like history stretched around him for miles. Then, abruptly, it snapped. Alex felt a sudden slam to his chest - it’d made a sound, a dull wump - and the air was knocked from his lungs.

But the tension in the room had been released like an arrow from a bowstring, and suddenly the atmosphere felt small, acute, intense, and focused. Alex knew at once that the Raiser had found what he’d been looking for. Massaging the sore spot on his chest, he heard the blond speak.

“Pet,” he said, eyes still closed, arms fixed at his side in concentration, “I have found him. Step onto the platform.”

Cautiously, Alex began the tentative journey toward the center of the room. As he neared, the King opened his eyes, and gazed at him with unfocused pupils. “No need for hesitancy. It is safe for you now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Now, come.”

Swallowing the last of his uneasiness, Alex did as he was told, and stepped onto the platform.

Instantly, his vision shook itself into a new, sharp focus - and this time, it really was his vision. He could, with a gasp of utter disbelief, see the magic. Or, at the very least, he could see where it was. There, stretched across the silver hoop like the tight skin of a drum, was a thin layer of a substance he’d never seen before. He couldn’t have described it if he’d wanted to. The closest he could get was that it was somehow akin to what a thought might look like - not the subject of the thought, but the very skin of the thought itself. It was like looking at the thin outer shell of a dream, or the skeleton of a word before it was formed.

And there, in the very center of this stretched-tight substance, was a quivering ball of something tight and intense, and somehow bright without light. The kind of brightness one felt, and didn’t see.

The experience was inconceivable and astounding. Even spiritual.

“Can you see that?” the Raiser spoke, bringing Alex’s mind back from the brink of wonder. He was pointing to the miniscule ball of intensity in the center of the wheel. Alex only nodded, too stunned to use his voice. “Touch it. It will show you your past lover.”

“Touch it?” Alex repeated. The shorter man nodded, hazel eyes still unfocused. Carefully, the human brought his new vision back to the small bright-feeling mass, and, in one shaking, slow movement, pressed a finger softly onto its quivering form. At once, he was gone. Still conscious, still aware of his surroundings and the Storm King standing across from him, but gone.

And he could see Danny.

The small man was laying in bed, reading some silly fiction novel with an absentminded smile resting on his lips. But, with a punch of anger to his gut, Alex saw another man as well. A tall fellow, with sandy-blond short hair and a nicely built body, Danny laid against this stranger as he read, seemingly perfectly content and carefree.

But that’s not what bothered Alex. There was more.

This new vision he had of the world - it was more than just vision. It was as though the Concellum were dangling Alex on a string over the world’s very fabric, and he could see and feel for miles behind him. He could see how long Danny had been seeing this stranger, feel how much love he had for him. Alex could see, with startling clarity, that Danny had been with the sandy-haired man long before Alex had ever considered Danny an ex-lover. He understood perfectly that the smaller man had deceived him.

Alex could see - actually see - that Danny had cheated on him, and he’d never even known. The Concellum had somehow wound Alex’s consciousness into the world’s, and he knew, undoubtedly, that it was true - he’d been made a fool of.

A mutinous anger rose within Alex and, quite suddenly, the scene was pulled away from him.

Blinking furiously and nearly stumbling off the platform at the abrupt change in sensation, the dark-haired man finally came back to his senses as his gaze landed on the Storm King. The blond’s eyes were once again closed in concentration.

“Have you seen what you wanted?” he asked, quietly. Alex ground his teeth.

What I wanted. What I wanted! Ha! he thought bitterly, biting back the sour taste of rage. His shoulders shook with it. “Yes,” he clipped shortly. The blond nodded.

“Then step from the platform. I shall release the focus.”

Alex did as he was told without word, and walked towards the door. His movements were short and stiff, his copper eyes stony. He was lost in his own thoughts.

In a sudden rush, the room’s sense of immensity and infinite complexity seemed to return. Alex’s vision was back to the way it was supposed to be, bland and human. The Storm King regarded him from his place on the platform. “Unhappy with what you observed?” he questioned lightly. The dark-haired man’s eyes flicked to him, still hazed with intense anger.

“I guess.” was all he managed. The Raiser allowed a small smirk to fall across his features.

“It certainly seems so.” Fiddling with the small ruffles at his collar and sleeves, the blond addressed Alex in a light tone. “Well, now you have felt what I wanted you to feel. You require time to absorb it - I understand this. So I am now allowing you time to yourself. Go off and do what you wish. I must stay here and attend to matters of my own.”

The taller man stood unmoving for several moments, lost in thought, until the Raiser lifted his hand and made a quick shooing motion towards the door. “Well, go on,” he urged. Alex blinked as he came back to the moment, and exited gratefully, closing the door loudly behind himself.

From his place, the Raiser sighed, and directed his attention back to the Concellum. “That will have him upset for hours, I’m sure,” he spoke to himself, annoyed. Lovely. He’d wanted his pet to be awed by his power, and instead, he’d only left feeling angry at his unfaithful ex-lover. “That dreadful toad,” he spat once more, directing his mind back to the magical device. Calling up images of the Earthly skies, he began to observe their activities, moving things about every now and then.

Perhaps it would be possible to work this to my advantage? He wondered idly, pushing a wall of heady rain clouds across Europe. They surged eagerly in response. Going about his business, he continued to ponder the thought, smiling at the various images it brought to mind.
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Well, there is it. Did you guys like it? I really hope so T_T It was so hard to write this chapter.

Please review! I really do love feedback. Hearing from you guys makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. ^^