The Offer
A story featuring fantasy-world versions of Desmond and Everett from The Impulsive Rescue. They're based off a roleplaying game a friend and I share.
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“Do you dream?” Everett whispered. “Is there even anything left of you?”
He lay next to Desmond on the bed they shared, hoping his beloved husband could, somehow, hear him despite being trapped in a magic coma on the edge of life and death. If he dreamed in that coma, were the dreams happy, or nightmares?
The man had sacrificed himself to save Everett after Everett’s magic core had split in half and lost the power needed to sustain him. Desmond had cast a spell with his very life force in order to give him enough power to live.
“Why did I have to be what I am?” Everett murmured, his quiet voice laced with melancholy. He was a summon, a magic creature created to serve. Desmond had been -- still was -- an ordinary human man. He had rescued Everett from going to a cruel master, and, as strange as it was, they had fallen in love and even gotten married, despite the marriage not being legally recognized. And their love had been Desmond’s ruin.
A magic cocoon hid his face from Everett, and the summon wondered if he would ever see the light in his husband’s eyes again. He glanced up at the ceiling, unable to stand looking at the cocoon anymore. Not for the first time, he thought Desmond should have just let him die -- waiting for a miraculous recovery was beyond any pain he had ever known. His chest hurt just being by Desmond side, but he couldn’t stay away, unless he was busy working in his new household.
“Everett, can I talk to you?” The voice snapped him out of his depressed reverie. Briony, his new mistress’ young stepmother, stood in his doorway. His eyes widened, and he sat up quickly while making sure his posture was perfect. As horrible as everything was, he still wanted to do his best to serve his new family.
Briony smiled indulgently at him. “Oh, you can relax. There’s no need to be so...uptight around me. We’re all family, right?” she said.
Family? Everett looked at her, his brow creasing slightly. He didn’t consider himself a true member of the family, being a magical servant and all. It had taken years for him to feel he was a part of Desmond’s family, and, even with them, he knew he wasn’t the same as they were.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, standing up.
She gestured with her hand, as if to dismiss the notion that he needed to do anything for her at all. Everett waited, wondering just what was going on. His muscles tensed a bit, and, for a moment, he was terrified he would be let go from their service.
“I don’t need you to do anything,” she said, taking a seat in a leather armchair near the bed. “Why don’t you have a seat? I just want to talk.”
Slowly, Everett sat back down on the bed. He gripped the sides of it -- now, his body was definitely tensed. “What -- what is it?” he murmured.
Briony’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, and, soon, it faded. She folded her hands in her lap, but she couldn’t keep them still, flexing her fingers as the silence in the room grew heavier and heavier. “I wanted to express my sorrow for your situation. This must be so very difficult for you,” she said, the look on her face now one of sympathy.
Everett let go of the bed. He resisted raising an eyebrow -- she had come all the way to his quarters to tell him that? Desmond had been in his magic coma for weeks now; the awful situation wasn’t any kind of news.
“It’s so tragic what happened, isn’t it? I wish Desmond were truly living, too,” she continued, nodding. “You two have something...special. If it would help at all, I do have an offer for you, one that might make things better for you, should...should the worst happen.”
His stomach sank -- he did not want to contemplate “the worst.” Even thinking about it made a lump form in his throat. “What -- what is your offer?” he managed.
“I could arrange for your freedom, should your husband...pass on,” Briony said.
The air around Everett froze, and his throat closed up. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. Shutting his eyes, he tried to will time to turn back.
“Did you hear me?” she muttered, looking concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I...have I not provided good service? I -- I am sorry I failed,” he muttered when he was finally able to speak again.
Briony’s eyes widened until they seemed to take up half her face. Her hand flew over her heart, and she leaned forward. “Failed? Everett, whatever are you talking about? You didn’t fail at anything. I don’t want to let you go because you’re a disappointment, I want to let you go for you.”
“For -- for me?” he said, grabbing the bed again.
She nodded. “I want you to be happy,” she said.
Confusion made Everett’s head swim -- she seemed sincere about wanting him to be happy, yet she was trying to let him go? “But -- I was created to serve,” he muttered.
“That doesn’t mean you have to live your whole life that way, if you don’t want,” she said, leaning forward and smiling slightly.
Everett shook his head, vainly trying to clear it. “I -- I enjoy being useful. I...don’t want to be let go,” he said. “Please.”
Briony, too, shook her head. “Nobody’s making you leave, don’t you worry about that. We just want you to be happy, and doesn’t everybody want to be free?”
“I don’t.”
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“Do you dream?” Everett whispered. “Is there even anything left of you?”
He lay next to Desmond on the bed they shared, hoping his beloved husband could, somehow, hear him despite being trapped in a magic coma on the edge of life and death. If he dreamed in that coma, were the dreams happy, or nightmares?
The man had sacrificed himself to save Everett after Everett’s magic core had split in half and lost the power needed to sustain him. Desmond had cast a spell with his very life force in order to give him enough power to live.
“Why did I have to be what I am?” Everett murmured, his quiet voice laced with melancholy. He was a summon, a magic creature created to serve. Desmond had been -- still was -- an ordinary human man. He had rescued Everett from going to a cruel master, and, as strange as it was, they had fallen in love and even gotten married, despite the marriage not being legally recognized. And their love had been Desmond’s ruin.
A magic cocoon hid his face from Everett, and the summon wondered if he would ever see the light in his husband’s eyes again. He glanced up at the ceiling, unable to stand looking at the cocoon anymore. Not for the first time, he thought Desmond should have just let him die -- waiting for a miraculous recovery was beyond any pain he had ever known. His chest hurt just being by Desmond side, but he couldn’t stay away, unless he was busy working in his new household.
“Everett, can I talk to you?” The voice snapped him out of his depressed reverie. Briony, his new mistress’ young stepmother, stood in his doorway. His eyes widened, and he sat up quickly while making sure his posture was perfect. As horrible as everything was, he still wanted to do his best to serve his new family.
Briony smiled indulgently at him. “Oh, you can relax. There’s no need to be so...uptight around me. We’re all family, right?” she said.
Family? Everett looked at her, his brow creasing slightly. He didn’t consider himself a true member of the family, being a magical servant and all. It had taken years for him to feel he was a part of Desmond’s family, and, even with them, he knew he wasn’t the same as they were.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, standing up.
She gestured with her hand, as if to dismiss the notion that he needed to do anything for her at all. Everett waited, wondering just what was going on. His muscles tensed a bit, and, for a moment, he was terrified he would be let go from their service.
“I don’t need you to do anything,” she said, taking a seat in a leather armchair near the bed. “Why don’t you have a seat? I just want to talk.”
Slowly, Everett sat back down on the bed. He gripped the sides of it -- now, his body was definitely tensed. “What -- what is it?” he murmured.
Briony’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, and, soon, it faded. She folded her hands in her lap, but she couldn’t keep them still, flexing her fingers as the silence in the room grew heavier and heavier. “I wanted to express my sorrow for your situation. This must be so very difficult for you,” she said, the look on her face now one of sympathy.
Everett let go of the bed. He resisted raising an eyebrow -- she had come all the way to his quarters to tell him that? Desmond had been in his magic coma for weeks now; the awful situation wasn’t any kind of news.
“It’s so tragic what happened, isn’t it? I wish Desmond were truly living, too,” she continued, nodding. “You two have something...special. If it would help at all, I do have an offer for you, one that might make things better for you, should...should the worst happen.”
His stomach sank -- he did not want to contemplate “the worst.” Even thinking about it made a lump form in his throat. “What -- what is your offer?” he managed.
“I could arrange for your freedom, should your husband...pass on,” Briony said.
The air around Everett froze, and his throat closed up. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. Shutting his eyes, he tried to will time to turn back.
“Did you hear me?” she muttered, looking concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I...have I not provided good service? I -- I am sorry I failed,” he muttered when he was finally able to speak again.
Briony’s eyes widened until they seemed to take up half her face. Her hand flew over her heart, and she leaned forward. “Failed? Everett, whatever are you talking about? You didn’t fail at anything. I don’t want to let you go because you’re a disappointment, I want to let you go for you.”
“For -- for me?” he said, grabbing the bed again.
She nodded. “I want you to be happy,” she said.
Confusion made Everett’s head swim -- she seemed sincere about wanting him to be happy, yet she was trying to let him go? “But -- I was created to serve,” he muttered.
“That doesn’t mean you have to live your whole life that way, if you don’t want,” she said, leaning forward and smiling slightly.
Everett shook his head, vainly trying to clear it. “I -- I enjoy being useful. I...don’t want to be let go,” he said. “Please.”
Briony, too, shook her head. “Nobody’s making you leave, don’t you worry about that. We just want you to be happy, and doesn’t everybody want to be free?”
“I don’t.”