This is Emmorta

42 What the Hell

Rune

In a carved out hole in the corner, angled perfectly, facing the entire room, the handheld black mirror has quietly surveyed us and all our activities. It's taken three days to find it, and I only saw it when a soft glow caught my attention last night from a notification lighting up the screen while he argued against leaving. Again.

He was gone when I woke up, so I immediately ambled after it. He's been combing through the realm in search of other holes for unwanted visitors that may appear, no stone left unturned. Sometimes he is gone for hours, others, not long at all.

Evander's phone lights up when I grab it. Silent as I may be, he could appear from thin air and catch me. The prickling awareness summons the tiny sparks of anticipation down my spine.

I'm not afraid of him, but if I don't do this, he'll argue and withhold more information about leaving from me, and I will truly be stuck here with him forever. No, I don't mind it, but we have a responsibility to other people before we shut ourselves out of everything.

Emotionally, he's not shut out this time. In fact, he's more honest and open than ever, but he believes we're better off staying here, neglecting responsibilities he says are self-imposed for ungrateful people who think gods need to fix every minor inconvenience in life. I'm not sure where he gets that impression. How are any of the mortals supposed to defend themselves against something like this? For someone obsessed with the idea of food, he's willing to give up all of that to possibly survive everything, just the two of us hiding in this place, living off one another? I don't think it's sustainable.

I realize I'm not entirely adept in as many subjects relating to mortals and, well, life in general, but I don't see us enjoying ourselves as a pair knowing we let everyone die so he could avoid looking his father in the eye and telling him the truth. That, plus the part where he doesn't wish to admit he's lost his trust in me.

We probably need a therapist, but Evander would halve their neck with a letter opener if they looked at me the wrong way. I know this because he threatened a gargoyle he thought was side-eyeing me. It was frozen, and my father ingrained their blindness to me long ago. They can hear me, but cannot look at me.

He's not convinced.

His phone password is an easy code: a string of zeroes. It opens to a message screen, warning him about his battery. Clicking out of that, my first idea is to message Orion and hope it goes through. After, I back out of that message and move to set it back in its place, but a text conversation beneath Orion's name gives me pause.

"Phantom," I whisper, my stomach sinking and heart racing at the name. "Watch our back."

Phantom's relative silence these past few days is edging my nerves into something unknown. He's never been this quiet before. I've always had someone to talk to, that sentient voice inside of my head, but I get curt responses as though I'm in the wrong for being here. Well, it isn't by choice, but maybe he's angry with me for not being upset about it.

All the more reason to get out of here.

With a trembling finger, I wet my chapped lips, the taste of him still on me as satisfying as it is discomforting at the moment. As strange as it may be, I don't want to leave either, and I've never felt more secure in my life, but even if he's right that we don't owe anyone anything, I don't want it to be that way. It isn't about the people who do or don't believe in him, but keeping life alive, so they have the choice.

That security blanket we've fought each other under for three days slips away, and a chill rushes over me when I finally tap the conversation under the name Thot 666.

I thought he was joking about his livestream thing he mentioned.

A low hum in my ear blocks out everything else at the image of the video sent to him, along with the one-sided conversation from Evander to a recipient who never responds.