Void

“Idris, I...” Perseus trails off, cautious of the words he’s about to say. “Are you sure about this?” He stares at his brother’s back with perturbed eyes as Idris comes to a sudden halt. Silence looms, nothing to be heard but the faintest scrunch of their black leather coats. “Look,” Percy mutters, closing and opening his left hand for no apparent reason as he summons the strength to carry on. “I know,” he moans weakly as a lump forms in his throat, thinking of her. His brother’s reason to live. His brother’s reason to carry on.

Percy sighs and casts the thought of her aside. I need to be strong, he thinks. One of us has to be. A torch in his right hand, its color not a bright red but an obscure and Egyptian blue, Percy stares at his surroundings, unsure where he even is. As dark as a desert with no moonlight, as desolate as the deepest trenches of the ocean, the tunnel they’ve journeyed through contains no noise but their own. Their footsteps. Their breathing.

Idris attempts to take a step forward, but Percy stops him and says, “We can turn back, you know? We don’t have to do this.”

Idris remains silent, lowering his own torch. “I do.” With that, Idris pulls his shoulders back and puffs out his chest.

Percy shakes his head and mutters, “You—”

Idris cuts him off. “Enough!”

Perseus complies and shuts up. He follows his older brother instead of leading them, something he’s done since they were children. Percy has placed his brother on a pedestal his entire life. Idris was always the natural leader, the decision maker, the protector, the one who always knew what to do. They met when Percy was ten and Idris was eleven. Both of their parents abandoned them on the streets, and Percy crossed paths with Idris one night as he took shelter in an abandoned apartment complex. Percy had made it his home for about two weeks and had no trouble until that night; three other boys alongside Idris insisted they stay with them. They had no issues that night. Nor the one after that. But on the third, the two boys attempted to force Percy out of his home. Idris stood up for him and kicked the two boys out instead. Even at eleven years old, Idris looked five years his senior, thus not many dared to take him on.

They stayed together from that day on, Idris taking on the mantle of an elder brother and father. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” Idris would tell him whenever Percy was at his lowest. Like when he was bullied. Or when they joined the army. “Ever.” Percy does his best to forget about his time as a soldier. The violence he saw. The carnage. Why did I join again? he would always question. The answer was simple: to stay by his brother’s side so he could protect him.

But… Percy thinks as he and Idris traverse the dark tunnel, the blue flames of the torch heating his skin. Who’s going to protect Idris? He needs to heal. And these trials... Percy huffs, quickening his pace as he shakes his head to rid it of the thought of his own part in all of this—the trials and the wish he whispered.

I could have stopped this, he thinks. I should have kept him away from that woman! I should have talked him out of all of this!

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since Idris lost her. During those three months, Idris closed himself off from society, locked himself in his loft deep in the heart of Downtown LA, and never left. Every day, Perseus checked in on him, making sure he ate something. Hell, he even bolted the windows and took away all the knives so that Idris didn’t take his own life. Percy paid his bills and gave him his space. Understandable. Acceptable. Healing takes time. And to lose her the way he did…Idris was going to need a lot of it. But when the third month crept by, Idris remained the same. Lifeless.

Percy remembers breaking his silence one night. He was in his brother’s bedroom, leaning by the door as he wondered whether or not he should say the words on his mind. After about a minute, he spoke. “How are you holding up?” No answer. Perseus gazed at his brother’s bare back as Idris sat on his bed looking out the window at the nocturnal beast that was LA. Idris wore only his boxers, the piercing moonlight making his dark-black skin gleam. Idris made no effort to groom himself; his usual shaved head had now grown hectic, greasy, and volatile, his black beard like those of the frayed homeless men roaming the city. He stopped working out, his usual vibrant, strong physique now a slim and frail one.

As Perseus stared at his brother’s back, who then seemed more like a stranger, his fingers began to twitch. Anger was rising. And at the time, he felt no guilt over it. Maybe it was because of how much time had passed and how his brother hadn’t even dared to leave his home. Or maybe it was because of Percy’s encounter with the woman, which had happened earlier that evening. Because of what she had told him, Percy knew Idris was obsessing over the promise she made him. The wish he whispered. Fuming, Percy bit his bottom lip and exploded like a ticking time bomb. “Goddammit!” he raged, slamming his fist against the bedroom door. “You’re not the only one who lost her! Sophie was my family too! Fuck, she was like a sister. She was my sister! I know what you’re going through, I’m going through the same thing, but don’t, don’t do it! Whatever that woman told you! Don’t do it!”

Idris remained silent, a response Percy had grown accustomed to. However, that night was different. Idris didn’t remain silent for long. He turned to face Percy with a cold gaze that could kill. “Get out,” he said in a voice that sent a chill down Percy’s spine. For the first time in his life, Percy was afraid of his brother. He left the room in a rush and didn’t look back.

There was nothing I could do to change it, Perseus thinks, continuing forward in the endless, dark tunnel, the blue flames from the torch guiding his way. Idris was set on the promise the woman made. And whenever he’s set on something… He lets out a concealed sigh. We can do this. We have to.

“Hurry up!” Percy hears Idris command.

“Wait,” Percy mutters, the blue flames flickering as he tries his best to keep up. He reaches a staircase in the cavern, its steps made of limestone, each the height of a child, and climbs it, the blue flames of his torch slowly dying and a bright white light appearing as he nears the summit. “Come on!” he hears Idris shout, Percy’s focus only on the next step ahead of him. Halfway up, he drops his torch and curses. It’s OK, he thinks, the white light at the summit providing more than enough illumination. Three steps to go, the height of each one taller than the last, now almost as tall as a man. On the last step, he grabs the edge with his fingertips, pulls himself up, and—

Loses his grip. Before he can shout or plummet to the ground, Idris grabs his hands and pulls. “I got you!” he groans, helping Perseus reach the summit. “I got you!”

At the top, Percy lies on his back and catches his breath for a moment. “Goddamn,” he curses to himself before he and his brother stand up.

“Look.” He sees his brother point at what lies ahead: a blinding-white light that acts like a wall. “We’re here,” Idris whispers, looking back at Percy with a weak smile. “We made it.”

Percy’s heart aches for a moment. This is the first time he’s seen his brother smile since he lost Sophie. A smile for all the wrong reasons.

“Whatever lies ahead,” Idris continues, “we can get through it together.”

“We?” interjects a familiar voice—a charismatic voice that could somehow soothe and instill fear in a person at the same time, a voice Perseus hoped he wouldn’t hear again. The woman.

An ice-cold chill runs down Percy’s spine before a powerful burst of air capable of lifting a child pushes against them, the sound of ear-piercing cries suddenly filling the cavern. Cries from a source Percy doesn’t want to know that roar at the brothers with terrifying glee. “Rrrrraaaaagh!”

“Push!” Percy hears his brother command. “Fight!”

The air grows fiercer, forcing the brothers toward the edge of the peak. “Fight!” Idris shouts.

No, Percy thinks. There’s a time and a place for everything, and now is not a time to fight. They stand no chance. As far as Percy’s aware, the woman can do anything. “Stop!” Percy screams.

Idris doesn’t listen. “Fight!” He pushes against the wind and manages to take one step forward.

He should have listened.

The burst of wind fades in an instant, and an unseen force brings the brothers to their knees as an invisible noose wraps around their necks and pulls, choking them. Percy reaches for his neck, attempting to grab the noose, but he feels nothing. He gags, the force making his eyes water and his face hot. Stop, he thinks, trying to form his thoughts into words. Stop! It doesn’t work; he just gags more violently, his eyes feeling as if they’re going to pop out of their sockets. Please, he thinks, fully aware she can hear him. Stop!

It ends just as quickly as it started.

Lying on the black sandstone, Percy and Idris gasp for air like fish out of water as Percy’s eyes search for the woman’s presence in the shadows. He doesn’t spot anything. But he knows she’s there—watching, waiting.

Like a disappointed headmistress, he hears the woman click her tongue a few times, the sound echoing across the cavern. “What do we say?”

On his hands and knees, Percy watches Idris try to get up.

She doesn’t allow it. An invisible force pushes Idris back to his knees. “Ah, ah, ah,” the woman clicks her tongue again. “What do we say?” she repeats impatiently.

Idris breathes heavily and lowers his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“What?” asks the woman. “I didn’t catch that.”

Idris forms a fist. “I’m. Sorry.”

Out of thin air, the woman appears in front of Idris and towers above him with a sly smile, exhaling an ice-cold breath. “There is no ‘we’ in what lies ahead. It’d be wise to remember who you’re speaking to.” The woman, with blue eyes that are both beautiful and terrifying to look at, and gleaming dark hair that’s slicked back and tied in a ponytail, crosses her arms over her chest and lays a finger on her milk-white cheek, a complexion free of scars, freckles, and wrinkles—perfect in every way. She wears a black catsuit that outlines the curves of her slim and fit physique, a look and a beauty that could stop a man’s or woman’s heart in a split second.

As Percy watches his brother, he feels as if his heart has stopped right then and there since he doesn’t move or speak a word. He’s not used to this, Percy thinks. Submitting to someone else and being at their complete mercy. The woman rests her right hand on Idris’s chest, her touch like a lover’s. “Can I tell you a secret?” She doesn’t wait for a response and whispers in his left ear, her words barely audible to Percy. “I’ve roamed the world since its inception; I’ve meddled in the affairs of men since their birth, I’ve seen thousands of empires rise and fall, yet you and your brother have captured my fascination in a way I haven’t experienced in a long, long time.” She pulls away from Idris and stares at both of them. “Why is that? Why am I so intrigued by the two of you?”

Idris responds by shaking his head and averting his eyes from her piercing gaze. “No need to answer,” she continues, smiling. “I prefer to leave it a mystery. It’s exciting, not understanding my fascination with the two of you. I know about everything that has happened, will happen, and is happening. But this…the questioning of my motives, the uncertainty of it all, well, it makes me feel no different than you.”

Idris remains silent, at the complete mercy of the woman.

She touches his face, then strokes his black beard. “Idris.” She pauses, studying him. “A powerful name for a powerful man. You’re intense, impulsive with those you love, yet now you find yourself in a state of vulnerability trying so desperately to cling to your strength.” She pulls his head close as if for a kiss, then disappears completely, leaving behind a faint trail of black smoke.

“And, Perseus”—the woman reappears behind Percy, giving him the fright of his life—“you, too, possess a powerful name.” She wraps her arms around his chest. “After all, you mortals over in Greece made up a fable about Perseus, Slayer of Medusa.” Pausing, she moves in front of him, just as she did with Idris. “However, all your life, you’ve never released the strength in you that so desperately wants to break free, a strength that rivals that of your brother’s, only in a different light.”

Percy lowers his head, not believing her words. He thinks back to their meeting, which he’s kept hidden from his brother. He thinks of the wish he whispered and stares at his brother for a second, worried his secret will be exposed.

The woman shakes her head. “It won’t be,” she tells him without moving her lips.

Before Percy can tell her what he thinks, the woman runs a hand through his long silver-blond hair and brushes his cheek. Her touch is cold, yet it makes his cheek feel hot and red. She pulls him in close, and—

Vanishes.

Dumbfounded, Percy exchanges a glance with his brother before the woman reappears at a distance, her back to them. “Such intriguing characters I’ve come by,” she says as she walks toward the light at the end of the tunnel, her hips swaying left and right. “Oh, before I forget.” Stopping, she turns to face the brothers. “I’ve grown tired of the both of you referring to me as ‘the woman’; I’ve a name, you know? Oh, but what to choose out of all the titles I bear? You mortals have conjured up numerous names for me, yet there are hardly any I like. Shi, Mortem, Thanatos, and the one I despise the most, Lucifer.” She groans and scrunches her face. “Granted, these were during the times I manifested myself as a male; I’ve come to find that I have the most fun as a woman.” She smiles that sly smile of hers. “You men are a bundle of joy to toy with when I appear in this form. Your minds and your hearts clash, restraint and discipline jump out the window, and you begin to question right from wrong.” She stares at Perseus and does that vanishing trick of hers, quickly reappearing much too close to him, her pelvis greeting his. “Isn’t that right, Percy?” Perseus’s lips suddenly quiver as his mind races a thousand miles an hour and his heartbeat quickens. He’s never held a sexual attraction toward the opposite sex, yet now, as he stares at the woman, at her blue eyes, at her perfect pale complexion, and at her seductive figure, he begins to think and feel things he’s never felt before. And it makes him feel repulsed. What the hell’s the matter with me? he thinks.

The woman smiles. “I know just what you may call me.” She pauses. “Severa.” Within a second, she vanishes and reappears near the light at the end of the tunnel, studying the brothers one last time.

“Three trials await you,” she declares. “Pass, and I’ll grant you your wish.” Perseus lowers his head, hoping his brother doesn’t catch on to the secret wish he made. “Idris, your wife will be yours again. And, Perseus…”

Percy’s heart skips a beat, and he begins to fiddle with his fingers for no reason. Don’t say it, he thinks. Don’t say it, don’t say it.

She doesn’t.

But it doesn’t matter. Idris groans and casts him a scornful look.

“Are you ready?” Severa asks, gesturing to the white gate beyond.

Perseus isn’t. On the brink of a panic attack, his skin is flushed red as his mind and emotions battle with one another.

“Well?” Severa presses. “Idris. Are you ready?”

Idris sighs, his judgmental expression fading as it’s replaced by a new one: sadness and hesitation. Idris has been a commander all his life. If there ever were a conflict or battle that needed to be tended to, he would jump into the fray with no questions asked.

But he’s questioning this jump, Percy thinks as he wonders what else is going through his brother’s mind.