Actions

Work Header

Touch and go

Summary:

The Oracles, that’s what they were called; the people supposed to save the world. Pure bullshit.

An excuse to transform helpless children into military dogs.

Nothing more.

He was about to help them up when he heard the rattling of the chains; and thus at that moment understood two things: first, that the wall they had put up had been, already, a way to prioritize Tony’s survival, because cutting through magical chains was almost impossible without the right artefact or amount of power, and they knew it; and second, that the Oracle had, indeed, contained the spread -more than probably willingly at first- but that at some point they had been forced to, and chained up with a bounding spell to the fortress; exposed like a trophy and used as a personal shield.

He never hated humankind more than at this moment.

For what felt like hours, his eyes followed, horrified and disgusted, the chains he hadn’t previously noticed from the floor up to the Oracle’s feet, waist, neck and arms, like claws preventing him from escaping, encaging his weakened body as if he was an animal.

Notes:

Day 6 - Touch and go
bruises | touch starved | hunger

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

As he looked up to the impressive fortress made of stone facing him, Tony couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with this place. He already had felt as much, even days prior, when they had reached the outskirts of the last village before the insanely dense forest separating the place from the rest of the civilization. He had felt it in the air, the thickness characteristic of magical rites and dark matter; and the way Friday had behaved had been more than enough to confirm his doubts, the dragon usually so serene having instead her blue opal eyes constantly scrutinizing their surroundings, ready at any moment for takeoff, deep-blue scales purposefully moved to create threatening rattling sounds every minute or so and wings never completely settling, refusing to let her rider out of her sight even for a second.

They had been sent to check on an apparently deserted Hydra base up North, past the mountains, as several villagers near kept claiming dark matter had been deeply affecting the fauna and flora since few days now. They were scared that its quick spread would render their crops rotten and thus completely wasted, leaving them with nothing but tears and despair to go through the harsh winter just around the corner; and setting aflame the region already prone to conflicts for resources along the way.  

Upon his arrival, Tony had perceived how hostile most of the inhabitants had been, especially towards the dragon who refused to leave his side like she usually would have, but had ignored it as best as he could until he had been able to question some of them; trading his snarky behavior for a quick and efficient persona instead. That way, once he had collected all the information he could get –that is to say almost nothing; people of the North never were known for their will to cooperate- on any possible reason or people who might have made some kind of offering to the wrong gods, and had been able to see with his own eyes the numerous confirmations that dark matter was indeed spreading, with a rare fierceness if the incredible acres of land it already covered was anything to go by, both him and his dragon had been able to immediately leave for a more secluded area, where no one except another rider could have reached them; which would have been more than unlikely in that particular region anyway. 

After forcing himself to eat something under Friday’s faithful watch, he had stayed silent while looking as the sun set to rest behind the hills, the darkness gaining strength as the night kept progressing, atmosphere filled with that oh so familiar sense of death accompanying people of his kind in those places filled with corrupted nature and a dread there wasn’t any apparent way to shake. Even shielded of the frozen wind and rain by the dragon’s thick wings, even hearing the comforting low rumble coming out of her chest and her warm breath keeping his weak human body at an acceptable temperature; even then he couldn’t find it in him to push the darkness away from his mind and close his eyes. Instead, he had stayed here, memories plagued with visions of horrors he had so deeply wished to be able to erase and mind clouded by a fog so thick it had felt as if he could have suffocated in it at any moment. If Friday hadn’t been holding him, as gentle as possible yet firmly enough so he wouldn’t be able to move away, he probably would have gotten up, and just walked to the edge of the cliff before sending himself plummeting towards his death without even realizing it.  

 

That was the kind of things the dark matter could do, to the ones who could perceive it and in some rare case hear it.   

That was what it could do to people like him.  

That was what it had done to his mother.  

 

The evening had been long, the night even longer; but as usual they had both made it through and along with the first rays of sun piercing the clouds and peaking from behind the mountain, they both had been ready to finally find out what could have been at the origin of the seemingly unstoppable spreading in the area.  

They had flown over the thick forest of giant pines for several minutes, just as a precaution to check if any of them would sense even a partial drive at any point; but as suspected, it didn’t happen. The ocean of pitch black water surrounding them had stayed unmoving as they had progressed in the sky, the origin of its appearance hidden underneath the surface. Rapidly progressing more and more towards the mountain and thus the old Hydra base, Tony had still been surprised by how much the marking of the dark matter had progressed on the spend of one night; it explained why he had struggled so much with the Whispers during the night, and also why he had been able to perceive so much noise even through his haze, as if the whole nature had been rearranging its bones. Indeed, at least a quarter of the endless forest secluding the mountain from the few villages around was now deep black, ready to turn to dust at any moment following some kind of contact with any possible living being, while all around the vibrant green was starting to get tarnished by grey, the spread intensifying with every passing day but still weaker under the warm rays of the sun.  

After few more minutes, they had finally been able to see the fortress, standing proudly near the bottom of the mountain, but still high enough on it to overlook the rest of the valley. The closer they had gotten to the place, the harder it had been to take a proper breath. Even more than before, he could feel in the air that something was just wrong , that whatever had lured the dark matter here had been something huge, not like usual; his body tense and scars hitching uncomfortably. Everywhere in the area the particular sickeningly sweet scent of dark matter reeked, sticking to his clothes and forcing its way into his lungs with so much strength it was hard not to gag on it, even has he readjusted his mask to fit more tightly onto his face. When he had set a foot on land again, he had felt his heart hammering in his chest. Now standing in front of the massive wooden doors, he’s scared the organ might make its way out of his body at any moment, ribcage shattered into billions of pieces by pure panic and survival instinct. He could hear distinctly the reassuring sound of Friday’s wings flapping with discreet strength somewhere above his head, out of reach so that no dark matter could reach her but still close enough to be able to instantly help him if it came to it; yet the reassurance barely enough to slightly calm down his nerves.  

Filling his lungs as much as possible without risking to suffocate on the rancid smell of putrefied bodies he could now perceive in the middle of all the rest, he opened the door in one firm movement; or at least tried to, its course stopped brutally by something blocking it from the other side. It didn’t take a genius to figure that this something was a body, even more probably several; a literal lake of dark blood easily visible just licking the tip of his boots from under the door still almost completely closed. Pushing with a bit more force and ignoring the wet sound of decomposed flesh torn apart by the action, he managed to make enough space for his body to fit and finally enter the place. Even with the few rays reaching inside from the few windows, he could see entrails littering the floor, piles of bodies surrounding him, torn to shreds and barely recognizable as human-beings.  

It was no surprise the dark matter had been attracted to this place; it was the perfect condition for it to thrive and grow rapidly.  

The only time he had ever been faced with such an overwhelming manifestation before had been as a child, when he had managed to sneak out from under his nan’s watch, and after having ran to the edge of the forest following what he called at that time the “sad whispers”, had been about to get disintegrated by the pitch black tendrils coming out of a deer’s entrails it had been feeding off nearby. By the time the poor panicked woman had found him with the help of other villagers, the dark matter had already burn half of his torso and arms, reducing him to silence as tears were rolling down his face in pure despair. 

It had taken months for his body to start healing, and only him telling the truth about what he heard to thus lead him to disobey had prevented his father from slaughtering him like a pig; despise his mother’s pleas that could be heard miles away as she had been restrained by some other villagers and forced to watch the scene for the redemption of everyone else. At his time, the knowledge about dark matter was even lesser than the one the world possess now; and many believed that a being –human or not– who had escaped death from the hand of the darkness should be returned to it without delay, as it had been claimed and thus belonged to it entirely, body and soul. The only exception to this rule had been deemed to be the very few people who could “hear” the dark matter, and could thus learn to listen to the Whispers and be trained to destroy its various sources, when it was possible. And obviously, only humans younger than twenty years old were fitted.  

 

The Oracles, that’s what they were called; the people supposed to save the world. Pure bullshit.  

An excuse to transform helpless children into military dogs.  

Nothing more.  

 

Taming his rage down to focus onto the task at hand, Tony started progressing slowly towards the center of the huge hall, the splashing sound of his shoes into the carmine liquid covering the entire floor echoing onto the dark walls. More luminosity would have been welcomed, but he couldn’t risk revealing his position to anyone or anything that might be lurking in the darkness, nor disturbing the ones that might have been hibernating or feeding near. He was used to it anyway, and barely had to squint to perceive his surroundings in details.  

There was without any doubt at least two hundred bodies in this hall alone, which more than probably corresponded to most if not all of the people who had been staying at the fortress daily. The numerous tables and rotten foods soaked in blood implying he wouldn’t find much more corpses in the rest of his search through the place, as it seemed almost everyone had been eating when they were struck with the curse that later on summoned the dark matter and lead it to their empty bodies, still warm with life that had barely left, or had been just about to. The copper ashes on the walls were the only proof needed for Tony to be certain this bloodbath had been intentional, provoked by someone still freely living their life, outside, somewhere. Looking down once more at the pile of corpses, he couldn’t help but sigh.  

Such a waste.  

As if the world wasn’t lacking enough living beings as it was.  

Reaching the end of the hall, he turned back to the piles of corpses, paying his respects to the deceased by bowing his head slightly and carefully placing a Narcissus stone where he stood, its gentle glow and warmth contrasting with the darkness and freezing pool of blood, before leaving the room.  

As he kept going through the fortress, he couldn’t help but feel enraged; the Whispers in the back of his mind exacerbating his feelings and senses. Hopefully soon enough he’ll find where in the fortress the transmutation circle had been placed, and he’ll be able to destroy it and leave before the night could come again. The place was huge, but not as much as some others he had already been assigned to, and even if this time he was alone to do so, he was more than capable for it to be feasible. And he had Friday who would check on him and let him know if anything he couldn’t see or sense happened. He just needed to be quick with it. 

Unconsciously playing with the shungite bracelet on his left wrist peaking from under the blood-soaked sleeve of his coat as he went down the corridor while scrutinizing every centimeter of space visible, he almost missed the faint growl resonating in the air; practically drowned under the Whispers increasing in intensity; a sign that he was getting closer to what he had come here for. Turning around, he barely had time to throw himself out of the way, slamming his body on the tiled floor and seeing more than hearing sharp teeth closing on void where his neck had been just a moment earlier, the sound probably like thunder in the previously quite place; not that he could be sure about it as the Whispers grew louder than ever, making him slightly nauseous and shutting out almost every other sound his ears could have perceived. He got up as quickly as he could, getting his dagger out of its sheath, preparing himself for the battle that was inevitably going to happen, and he took a small breath in, conscious that either way he would choke on the putrid smell of the creature facing him. It wasn’t rare in his line of work to be faced by dark matter using some kind of corpse of living being it had killed not long ago, but it never had happened while he was alone; and it shouldn’t be happening, because this place shouldn’t be one where this phenomena can take place. It made no sense, at all; the dark matter wasn’t spread enough, hadn’t kill enough yet to be supposedly able to make itself that tangible. And yet here he was, facing what he guessed had previously been a wolf; probably lured in few days before in the fortress by the smell of blood and the prospect of food that must have had become rare in the dense forest, particularly with the recent spread. Flesh and muscles dangling from most of the bones, Tony could see the dark matter boiling inside the corpse; a sort of shapeless mass being everywhere and nowhere at once in the body: black tendrils extending in all directions to return back inside the flesh while tearing it apart not even a second later; large pieces of skin and blood falling onto the floor at the action.  

The wolf barred its teeth, and threw itself at the human facing him, who didn’t even try to plunge his dagger into the beast, knowing it would be useless to do so, and instead simply dodged again, trying his best to ignore the Whispers almost screaming in his ears now.  

If he had to be honest, Tony was pretty sure he was about to die. He had always been one of the most sensible to the Whispers, may it be in his family or in their small group of mercenaries; and that’s why he generally never went alone on a mission involving dark matter: because it was too dangerous. But with Clint bed-ridden and the others either trying to keep him alive by staying by his side or completing contracts to have enough money for the treatments needed and to bring food to the table, there hadn’t been any other choice. It was supposed to be a small, easy mission anyway, with only the mere beginning of a spread, and with Friday keeping him safe through it. It should have been more than enough.  

And yet here he was, only capable of pathetically dodging and trying to get up in time not to get torn apart, vision blurring more and more, ears ringing and muscles trembling, his instincts the only thing keeping him alive at that point.  

Nose and ears bleeding slightly now, he finally stumbled and collapsed, head banging on the floor harshly; the involuntary movement saving his life once more, but for the last time. He was too weak to move away as the wolf kept coming closer to him; the lack of oxygen rendering his body completely useless and defenseless, his dagger since long on the floor several meters away. He was suffocating, vision blurry and scars on fire. The beast had clearly understood it, and approached slowly, with delectation, already jubilating about the new source of power rendered completely helpless on the floor that it would soon devour. 

So that was it. How pathetic.   

He could feel the frozen breath of the animal on his neck, but the pain of it being torn to shreds while the rest of his body was turned into dark matter like it should have been decades ago never came. Instead, Tony finally got to breathe as the wolf was thrown away in the blink of an eye, instantly trying to take off the golden talisman already melting into its skin as more of them kept coming out of nowhere, soon enough covering it whole as the creature convulsed in agony; its entire body turning into a mere puddle onto the floor while the dark matter was forced to leave it, and thus tried to reach the human’s to be kept whole and intact into a new host. This time, the man clearly saw what had only been perceived in a blur of light before; another talisman placing itself between them, instantly turning back the Whispers to what they were supposed to be, barely a murmur that he could ignore without even trying to. Still incapable of moving a single muscle except to breathe in the air he was greedily filling his lungs with, he kept watching, stupefied, as a dagger of Aether appeared once again from nowhere, and pierced the perfect sphere that the dark matter had been forced to turn into; instantly changing it to dust. The dagger and the rest of the talismans decayed soon after, and only the one who’d help Tony stayed intact; close enough for him to be able to pick it up without effort once he’ll be able to get up again.  

He had no idea what had happened, but he (surprisingly) felt grateful to still be alive, and finally, finally breathing. 

He spent what must have been several minutes at the very least spreaded out on the floor, embracing with joy the coldness of the tiles underneath him, calming down little by little the fire that had been brought to life in his body.  

Feeling like he could now move without risking of falling apart or drop dead at any moment, he gently picked up the talisman next to him, using the few rays of sun piercing through the unique but huge window to look at it more in details. The paper was thick, the familiar low humming of active magic on his fingertips confirming that he had been saved by someone, and not just by some kind of protective spell placed here long ago, during the construction of the place for example. But as he looked into the details of the red symbols painted onto the golden paper, mind finally cleared up (for the main part) of the thick fog it had been encased in, he realized why it had seemed so familiar to him before.  

 

It was one made by an Oracle.  

There was an Oracle, with him, somewhere in the fortress. 

 

And suddenly, the presence of the daemon that shouldn’t have been possible made so much more sense. People, amongst whom an Oracle, had probably been sent here before him, and they were the only reason for the “slow” spreading of the dark matter, the only explanation as to why the region hadn’t been turned to ashes already, and the villages having yet to be deserted, despite the rapidity and he could now affirm it rare intensity of the summoning. They had contained it all, probably since a while now, making their presence invisible by letting daemons roam freely in those stone walls instead of killing them, putting their magic into the walls instead of obvious weapons and traps. If he hadn’t been so distracted by the Whispers and overwhelmed by the smell, he may have felt it earlier; the subtle hint of magic, running along the walls and floating in the air, contrasting with the overpowering bittersweet smell.   

The Oracle, whoever it may be, had decided to save him, which in itself was surprising enough. But this choice also blew their cover away, which meant that from that moment onwards, the dark matter would be more vicious and soon enough try to make its way back to both kill him and protect its transmutation circle. He didn’t have much time left. Suddenly he felt way better, the ache in his bones forgotten as he got up instantly, ignoring its protest as he ran to his dagger still on the floor near the puddle of what once was a daemon and starting again his search for the source of the darkness pouring into their world, even if more frantically now.  

He needed to be done with this soon, and leave as far away as possible from the castle.  

He was only done with the first floor when he heard Friday calling for him, signaling in her usual way that something was seriously wrong, and indeed he could feel the dark matter getting nearer again, yet the Whispers only slightly louder thanks to the talisman in his pocket still greatly helping to keep his mind free of their almost irresistible attraction. Using his instinct has much as possible, he kept progressing throughout each room, almost running at this point, and was done with the second floor in only a few minutes, leading him to the very top of the fortress as darkness started to gain more and more ground, both in the sky, thunder rumbling somewhere in the background, and on land, as he could see by the window trees falling to the ground at full speed in the forest, pitch black tendrils destroying everything on their way back. 

The main part of the last floor, just like the first one, was one big room with high decorated pillars and walls made of cold stone; the magic way more noticeable in there. Slowing down his pace, Tony progressed with more prudence and as silently as possible, the noise of his steps largely reduced by the thick liquid the floor seemed to be covered with, the weak light not even allowing him to confirm his suppositions about it being blood.  

He heard another growl, but this time even before anything could happen, the daemon was reduced to dust by blood-soaked talismans, the light created by the conjuration letting his eyes meet honey-whiskey ones from across the room for a second. Without letting him time to think about something to say, the protecting talisman gently got out of his pocket and flew for a moment in front of his face, before leading him, or at least he guessed so, to what he had been searching for. Indeed, as soon as he got close enough, bright angry red symbols lit up on the floor and along the walls, soon enough covering the entirety of the room. Once again, that explained a lot. The people dead in the hall hadn’t been the only ones in the fortress, but simply the few of them who hadn’t gotten instantly decayed by the incantation. And the Oracle in the room had needed to use so much power to contain the dark matter that it hadn’t been possible for the human to break the circle without freeing the daemons. Which probably explained why in hell he had chosen to save someone like Tony. He needed someone to send the dark matter back, and he had himself needed help finding the circle keeping it linked to the Earth. It could probably be considered as some kind of equivalent exchange, in a way. Typical. 

Tony could work with that.   

The talisman returned into his coat –which he was infinitely grateful for– as he used his dagger to cut the palm of his left hand in one swift movement, feeling the blood run down his arm and dripping from his elbow before letting the Aether powder he kept in a small box run free in the air, settling slowly over the red writings all around the room. Once he felt satisfied with how much had been covered, he clapped his hands together once, making two bright blue circles appear around his wrists, almost at the same place where the shungite bracelets usually rested against his skin. Breathing in the particular scent of magic in the air, he formed a triangle with his hands and slowly pulled them apart, muscles trembling with the effort. He could hear several daemons trying to reach him and being conjured instantly; and felt a surge of healing coming from the talisman resting against his heart, allowing his weakened body to definitely destroy the gate used by the dark matter to prosper in this place; the force of the magic making the windows shatter; thus letting the cold air and declining light from the upcoming storm flood the room. 

The silence that his success instantly created made his skin crawl.  

He could hear his galloping heart against his ribcage once again, and clearly perceive the ragged breath of the Oracle on the floor, leaning back against the wall opposite to the one he was currently facing, face hidden under the typical mask used by the ones of his kind, unruly brown curls dripping with sweat and eyes barely open but still burning with determination. None of them said a word, until thunder split the sky and landed near; setting one of the gigantic pine still standing on fire, and thus getting both the two of them and the dark matter out of the stupor they had been in; the latter immediately getting back to its race to return to the stone fortress before the circle could completely disappear; hopeful to be able to kill them both and retrieve enough of their memories and time in their soul to reverse their action and bring back its only way to become tangible and interact with this world.  

Without waiting a moment more, stepping over the numerous corpses still steaming of the daemons, he crossed the room almost running to get to the Oracle’s side; only to be stopped by some kind of invisible wall; a protective spell preventing him from approaching further. What an idiot.  

He barely managed to hide the irritation from showing in his voice as he spoke: “Don’t do that. You saved my life. Multiple times. I’m certainly not gonna leave you to die in this place all alone like a dog, so let me help you get out of here, because I highly doubt you’re in any capacity to do so yourself.” 

Seeing as it didn’t seem to convince the human facing him in any way, he sighed deeply and decided to change his tactic, opting for something way less pleasant, yet probably the best one out of all those he could think of at the moment. Every Oracles what taught that all kind of life was precious, and more importantly: way more valuable than theirs. Thus, he knew that without a good reason the other wouldn’t let the wall down to get helped; they would prioritize Tony and make sure he gets out of the fortress alive. Probably. At least that’s what he remembered from his time there; it might have changed since it had been so long ago, but he was almost certain that the most basic precepts like this one had stayed the same; plus there was something in those eyes telling him he definitely would be the one whose safety would be placed first. He couldn’t let that happen, especially not for him. So he spoke again, louder this time, voice resonating along the now partially cracked walls of the empty floor: “Listen, either we both get out of this place and maybe survive, or we both die here, because of you. Your choice. If you don’t let me help I’ll just stay here until the dark matter reaches us and tears our heads apart from our bodies.” 

He waited anxiously for any kind of reaction (not that he’d let show in any way his emotions), and when he saw the person on the floor closing their eyes tightly for a second and almost imperceptibly moving their right hand towards him, Tony knew he had won. As soon as he felt the wall disappearing, he got to the Oracle’s side, ready to get them on their feet as quickly as possible without injuring them further; if there actually was any kind of injury hidden away under the thick black and gold clothes they were wearing.  

He was about to help them up when he heard the rattling of the chains; and thus at that moment understood two things: first, that the wall they had put up had been, already, a way to prioritize Tony’s survival, because cutting through magical chains was almost impossible without the right artefact or amount of power, and they knew it; and second, that the Oracle had, indeed, contained the spread -more than probably willingly at first- but that at some point they had been forced to, and chained up with a bounding spell to the fortress; exposed like a trophy and used as a personal shield.  

He never hated humankind more than at this moment. 

For what felt like hours, his eyes followed, horrified and disgusted, the chains he hadn’t previously noticed from the floor up to the Oracle’s feet, waist, neck and arms, like claws preventing him from escaping, encaging his weakened body as if he was an animal.  

He heard Friday loudly calling for him, instantly bringing him back to the present moment. He knew he needed to think about how to get those chains out, quickly. And once again he regretted being on his own for this mission, because everything would have been so much easier if Natasha had been here, her bag always full of so many artefacts th- 

Eyes widening, he suddenly took his hand away from where it had been placed on the Oracle’s arm, and started to search frantically through his bag for the most important thing she had given to him before he left. Fingers finally finding the cold glass of the container after few second, he got it out in one swift movement; hearing the almost imperceptible gasp of the human next to him as they also understood what he had in his hands. Filled to the brim with a carmine and silver liquid most usually used by the more eminent members of the clergy, the small bottle fitting in the palm of his hand was the exact thing needed to conjure almost all kind of bounding spell; and combined with what he had left of Aether power, it should be more than enough to break the Oracle free.  

How grateful he was for redheaded women and their insight.  

Without waiting a moment more, he opened up the bottle, added the powder in it and after a few seconds, once the color had completely turned to a deep and mesmerizing purple, he poured it all on the visible parts of the chains, knowing well that it would spread to the entirety of it anyway. He could hear the Whispers getting louder despite the talisman, his instinct telling him to run away, Friday calling for him more and more frantically; yet, he just stayed kneeled down next to the Oracle as the spell progressively disappeared, parts of the bounds turning to a copper steam before all of the chains suddenly snapped at once, falling in a deafening racket onto the floor, splashing what was definitely blood –he was now sure of it- onto them. The deep sigh that the Oracle let out after finally being free made Tony’s heart hurt.   

He got up and instantly helped the other to do the same, taking on most of their weight by throwing their arm around his neck, hoping he didn’t aggravate their injuries by doing so; which, if the quiet moan of pain that had gotten out of their throat was anything to go by, he definitely did. Placing his other arm around their back, he felt sick at the feeling of bones through the skin, which he could perfectly feel even with the thick clothes on.  

He didn’t want to imagine how thin they probably looked like in broad daylight, with some more normal clothing. He didn’t want to think about what it meant, about how long they had been there, about how much vital energy the cruelty of humankind had taken out of them. He really didn’t.  

Taming once again his rage, he kept going, slowly yet as fast as possible towards the nearest broken window from which they could jump off and finally, finally fly away, Friday near enough to get them before the dark matter would be able to reach the fortress. They were only a few steps away when the Oracle tensed up even more than before against him, and suddenly with a force they shouldn’t have been capable to gather in the state they were in, detached themselves from Tony and violently pushed him down to the floor, the rest of his clothing that had been spared by the pool of blood at their feet instantly soaking it up. 

Turning around as fast as possible with his whole body pulled down by the weight of the blood and exhaustion, he felt his anger die down instantly when his eyes met the ones of the Oracle, who were now on their knees, getting choked by a black tendril of dark matter, skin already starting to turn to ashes, veins turned to obsidian black as silent tears of the same color fell from their eyes and ran down their cheeks, both over and under the mask. And Tony felt as helpless as back then, as useless as every single time he witnessed someone getting killed by the dark matter; condemned to be nothing more than a spectator, incapable of helping in any way because the thing they all had to face since they were kids had always been and would always be more powerful than anything or anyone else. He knew he couldn’t do anything to stop this kind of death, yet he still found himself gripping his dagger with a renewed firmness, desperately trying to get back on his feet to maybe do something, anything .  

He didn’t have to.  

He watched, stunned, the tendril piercing the Oracle’s throat from front to back, something that would have sealed the fate of anyone or anything, only to get absorbed, entirely and in less than a second, into the human body. Freezing at the sudden loss, the other ones instantly started to try and get away, even more desperately than the rest of the entity it was a part of was trying to return to the fortress; animated by some kind of animalistic instinct. And it had been right, as, slowly, all the tendrils got, one by one, absorbed into the body they had been trying to destroy a moment before, the Oracle’s veins still of an obsidian color, tears never stopping, but skin glowing like pure gold exposed to the rays of the sun.  

Speechless, his eyes met the honey-whiskey ones once again, both the fire and endless pain he saw in those making something in his heart he thought long forgotten deeply hurt, before they rolled back into their owner’s head.  

He barely had time to shake himself out of his stupor to prevent the Oracle from falling head first into the pool of blood and splitting their forehead open. Kneeling down again to their level, he gently placed his right hand on their plastron, not really knowing which were the zones to avoid touching in order not to cause any additional pain, and led their head onto his shoulder so that he could search his pockets to find the calming ointment he always took with him, the horrific burns already scarring on their throat making him wince in sympathy. Even if the Oracles were more protected towards the dark matter and got to heal way faster than any normal human would, it didn’t mean it was something pleasant. Far from it. It took more energy than should be possible, and was extremely painful; which is why he was so surprised when he felt them trying to detach themselves from him, once again.  

“Don’t move. I’ll give you something for the pain, and then we’ll leave.”  

Despite the perfectly calm and reassuring voice he had managed to master -and truly even he was surprised by that fact, because what the fuck had just happened? -, he felt the Oracle trying to get away again and gently tapped their back in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, except it got a loud cry of pure agony out of them. He instantly let go and stopped his unfruitful search to focus fully on the person now few centimeters away from him, breathing erratically, chest heaving as they barely had time to put the mask up to their nose before they threw up on the side, a puddle of thick blood adding to the seemingly never ending pool of it under their feet. He saw every part of their body trembling, and the talisman still near his heart doing the same; almost painfully vibrating from the drastic decrease in energy. The Oracle straightened their back in what seemed to be a strenuous effort, and barely had enough strength to look at him again: a storm of emotions in their previously honey-whiskey eyes now completely turned black except for the iris which was now of a liquid golden.  

“I’m sorry.”  

And as soon as they pronounced these words, in a voice way younger than it should have been possible, the whole world turned to hell as thick golden paper turned to dust. The Whispers came back stronger than ever, tearing both Tony’s ears and mind apart, calloused and now blood-covered hands flying to grip his head in a desperate attempt to control the pure agony that suddenly exploded in his whole body, scars on fire as if he was back to the very same day he got them. Trying to force himself to breathe in order to manage to finally control the pain and get himself out of here before being ripped to shreds, he felt every single muscles he owned trembling under the effort of fighting against the torture he was putting it through. Finally able to open his eyes he didn’t even remember closing, using more effort than it should have been needed, he saw the Oracle had this time truly fallen face first onto the floor; but surprisingly (and Tony wouldn’t admit it but thank God), they weren’t dead, eyes slightly open but unseeing, heartbeat way too weak for the mercenary to be comfortable with, but alive.  

The Whispers were getting harder and harder to ignore, shivers running down his spine as tried his best not to let them take too much space in his mind. He could feel Friday getting desperate, calling for him as he could hear the castle starting to collapse, more and more rubbles plunging into the lake of fresh blood surrounding them, dark matter making its way back to the place before the incantation could permanently burn the circle and everything tying it here entirely; in a desperate way to stay whole and survive. Not having any other option, Tony quickly made his decision: gathering the younger’s body into his arms, safely placing the head matted with blood, sweat and dirt against his chest, trying his best to ignore the black tears still running down their cheeks and spilling over the mask, or the obsidian veins still running up the only part visible of their neck; holding the rest of their body as firmly as possible using one of the numerous ropes he had found while making his way to this floor to keep them attached together, he finally ran despite his body’s protests and jumped out of the window, hoping that his dragon would be fast enough to catch them before they could crash into the ocean of darkness underneath them, and end up swallowed whole without any chance of getting out of it alive; the boiling darkness already reaching for their human flesh.  

The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the scream of the wind in his ears and the one of the void in his mind, filled with rage, hatred and bloodlust; the first black tendril making contact with his back and leaving a trail of fire on its way before they violently collided with something mid-air, sucking all the oxygen out of his lungs, his grip on the frail body loosening as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

 

Hopefully the rope had been enough.  

Notes:

Most of the requirement for this day 6 are only briefly mentionned here, but as it is more developed and used in the rest of the work, I considered this to still be fitting. This is the first part of a work in progress, I'll probably post the rest sometimes this summer :)

Thanks for reading, have a great day!

Series this work belongs to: