Chapter Text
It is midnight at Canaan House and the sound of steel peppers the walls even now. The wooden floor of the duelling hall already had deep gashes from the practice the day before but now even more beautiful arcs of damaged wood were carved into its surface with every clash.
Not a frequent occurrence in duels with rapiers or small swords but both combatants here held a spear and a court sword and were quite content to spin them around without a care as to what they tore up. Pyrrha and Gideon clashed against each other like children’s spinning tops, each a wave of aimed steel that rang against each other to create an Aphrodite of violence, born from the foam of their weapons.
Gideon’s eyes narrowed as he predicted Pyrrha’s showy sweep of her spear as she let the shaft roll around her neck to her other arm while simultaneously tossing her sword to her now free left. This was it, Gideon unleashed a thrust with his own spear, keeping Pyrrha’s in check, and then as she retreated Gideon thrust his court sword in a perfect line.
And there was nothing in front of him. Nothing except Pyrrha’s spear now solidly impaled in the wood floor. Pyrrha herself was on the other end having vaulted herself up and over Gideon’s second thrust, she let herself fall down, right onto Gideon’s head so that he was firmly between her thighs. Pyrrha didn’t let her momentum stop and so her full weight pulled on Gideon’s shoulders and, dropping both his weapons in shock, Gideon fell to the floor with a crash.
Gideon blinked up at Pyrrha from between her legs as she leisurely batted him on the nose with the flat of her blade.
“I think I found my new favourite winning move,” Pyrrha squeezed her thighs together around her partner.
Gideon chuckled and tapped for mercy on Pyrrha’s leg. Pyrrha eased off and sat on Gideon’s chest looking down at him.
He had changed so much.
Pyrrha remembered when Gideon had arrived, without explanation, on her morning run with Alfred and Cristabel (Valancy was a late riser and Nigella waited for her so that she would not be alone). He had done his very best to keep up and only thrown up when they were about halfway through.
Everyone had stopped to let Gideon recover but he told them to go on without him. Pyrrha alone had stayed with Gideon until they finished the track together, now slightly late for the rest of the morning.
But Gideon had kept coming back. No matter how many times he pulled something because he didn’t yet know how to stretch, or how many times he just upchucked in Cyrus’ daffodils (which always earned him a ‘what the fuck man?’ from the owner) he kept training every day.
Every day Gideon improved, every day he kept up a bit more until he was completing the run alongside everyone. Then he was doing push ups with Valancy in the evening while discussing energy transfer theorems with Cassiopeia, who just sat nearby and smoked. He even joined the Emperor and Alecto in their after lunch calisthenics to a bizarre recorded radio program from before the resurrection.
Pyrrha looked at Gideon below her. He was completely different now, and could go toe to toe with her with both sword and spear. She squeezed her thighs again this time across his chest and ran her tongue over her lips. She gently took his left hand in hers and stared deep into his rock glass eyes. Pyrrha entwined their fingers.
Clap, clap, clap.
Pyrrha and Gideon snapped up at the sound. Standing in the doorway like a specter was Alecto. She was clapping.
Like a lot of things Alecto did, it was just slightly off. She clapped like she was a wind up toy, like she was a monkey holding cymbals. Each clap a jerking motion like she was running through a program. But to Pyrrha she looked earnest even though she only had one golden eye open.
“Alecto!” Said Pyrrha.
“Nice pin,” said Alecto.
“...” Said Gideon.
"Good morning Alecto," Pyrrha said this while side-eyeing Gideon.
“Morning?” Said Alecto.
“It’s just past midnight.”
“Oh.”
“Do you not need to sleep like the rest of us?”
Alecto tilted her head in confusion. “I am asleep,” she pointed to her closed right eye.
“Oh!” Said Pyrrha, understanding immediately. “Nice trick. Will you be teaching us that sometime soon? I know I never have enough time in the day.”
Gideon made a face before stating: “Where is Teacher?”
“One hundred meters that way,” said Alecto, without missing a beat. She pointed up and to an angle to herself.
Pyrrha elbowed Gideon. Gideon put on a chastened expression.
“We’re just going to turn in for the night,” said Pyrrha.
“Understood,” Said Alecto. “The new constructs should have this place refloored by the morning.”
Pyrrha gently laid a hand on Alecto’s shoulder as she walked past with Gideon.
“Thank you,” Said Pyrrha. “See you in the morning.”
Alecto turned after them even as skeletons passed by her to sand, replace and re varnish floorboards.
“But, it’s already morning?”
****
Canaan House, the seat of the Empire of the First Reborn. Built to straddle the ocean that covered so much of the planet, it stood above the waves, a single white knucklebone of defiance against the extinction of the human race.
It was here that Pyrrha Dve (as she would be later known) learnt of her resurrection and the God who had granted it. How exactly she came to Canaan House is a story for another time but it was there that she met (or re-met) the other nine disciples.
Augustine & Alfred: two brothers each a fountain of charisma. Fountains in that both let themselves flow out in full view of everyone, but it was endlessly recycled over and over and pumped out as if it was new.
Mercymorn & Cristabel: two opposite sides of worship. Mercymorn the picture of loyalty while Cristabel was the very avatar of adoration.
Cassiopeia & Nigella: tireless researcher pair. Pyrrha thought of them as a perfect system but anyone who she told this to laughed in her face. Cassiopeia’s strings of obsessive mania could be eased by Nigella who could prise Cassiopeia out of her laboratory with little difficulty. Cassiopeia in turn assisted Nigella with her thrust for books, not reading books, but making them. Nigella openly told everyone that she had an addiction to producing a book every six months during summer and winter, as predictable and inexorable as the movement of the stars.
Cyrus & Valancy: two actually fun if ostentatious people. For those first few decades the easiest way to keep everyone in the same room was to center around Cyrus and Valancy. Even if it was just the two of them dueting with Cyrus at the guitar or Valancy at the piano she had repaired and tuned herself.
Gideon: Gideon never made any attempt to dress up what he thought. The Emperor had delivered them from death. For that he was owed not just loyalty but the most able subordinates to delegate to. But Gideon was only talking about himself, he never forced his ideals on others but instead focused entirely on building himself into what he thought was the ideal disciple.
It was this single minded devotion that stoked Pyrrha’s interest in Gideon. Together they both trained and researched together. While Pyrrha helped nurture Gideon’s bloom into a decidedly un-necromantic build and martial skill, Gideon taught Pyrrha principles of necromancy allowing her to keep up with most of the excited explanations of half her fellow disciples.
“I think it makes perfect sense,” Mercymorn had brought up the subject of Gideon over tea with Pyrrha.”It’s a rare and beautiful thing to find anyone willing to give themselves over to what they believe.”
“It is?” Said Pyrrha.
“It-it’s,” Cristabel hiccuped. “It’s SO~ BEAUTIFUL!!” She always had a weakness for acts of devotion.
“Cristabel, please,” Mercymorn passed over a spare napkin. “Here.”
“Thank you,” Cristabel blew her nose, the echo continued into the towers for some time afterward.
“Still I’m,” Mercymorn paused as the echo continued (“Amazing”). “I’m more interested in what you think Pyrrha.”
“Me?” Pyrrha paused her teacup halfway to her lips.
“Well Gideon is so... singularly focused, is that something you share with him?” Mercy took a sip of tea. “Obviously I don’t think so.”
“Oh? I don’t look like the devoted type?” Asked Pyrrha
“Compared to Gideon? To Cristabel?” Mercy replied with another question.
“Um, I’m right here Mercy," Cristabel waved at Mercymorn.
****
The Emperor, John & Alecto: The other two people at Canaan House who had resurrected everyone else. Everyone had met the Emperor, he was there when you were resurrected, and so was Alecto.
At the earliest times. When everyone was still groggy with new life, Alecto stayed by the Emperor’s side. Her golden eyes hovering just behind his shoulder. She never said anything, she just watched everyone. When it was just The Emperor talking (and at the start it was just The Emperor talking a lot ) Alecto looked out over the newly reborn with a serene gold gaze.
Then people started asking questions, asking The Emperor questions, asking each other questions, asking questions to the whole room. But when you spoke in front of The Emperor, Alecto looked at you with those golden predatory eyes. It made everyone flinch the first few times even though her movements were smooth and gentle.
But Alecto never said anything to anyone at the beginning. She just followed The Emperor around, always a step and a half behind.
Then on perhaps the fifth day Augustine said: “John said they will be perfectly fine, the mass drivers sent all they need.”
And Mercymorn had replied: “I know but it can’t hurt to have another person there who has gone through what they’re going through. They need context.”
And Augustine had said: “Well it’s sweet of you to let Alecto resume her place as the most horrifying creature in the house.”
And Alecto had said: “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”
She hadn’t laughed, she had literally just kept saying: ‘ha’ for just long enough that it looked like The Emperor was about to stop her but she stopped on her own.
“That was funny, Augustine.”
Alecto’s voice was like the inverse of The Emperor’s happy, kind, scratchy voice. Alecto’s voice was smooth, too smooth and too fresh too. Like she was cutting open a new airway with every sentence and she spoke her words like she had just assembled them out of a child's alphabet blocks.
Only Pyrrha came to the conclusion that day, that Alecto had been staring silently at them for so long, because The Emperor hadn’t told her anything.
****
Pyrrha’s first actual interaction with Alecto was a week after that. Tobacco had been found in the greenhouse and The Emperor, The First Reborn, The Kindly Prince had laid it out and with a single gesture had perfectly aged it to the right shade of brown.
Pyrrha, Cyrus and Cassiopeia all felt faith in their God grow by three sizes that day.
All three had broken off to gather their own unique paraphernalia.
Cassiopeia was the most popular. She had already put together a grandiose hookah that took up an entire table and allowed for three hoses. Mercymorn, Cristabel and Nigella were already listening to a long lecture on the hookah’s creation littered with as many sub clauses as the bewildering glass cartography had chambers.
Cyrus, on the other hand, had a pipe. He had several pipes he had whittled or cast himself.
Alfred had to agree: “It makes a person look quite distinguished.”
“It’s a filthy habit,” was all Agustine had to say.
“Ah,” said Cyrus. “It used to be a filthy habit. Bloody stuff can’t hurt us now.”
“Now it’s a sexy habit,” Said Alfred, who took one of Cyrus’ pipes and posed next to him.
Pyrrha was more interested in some time alone. She found a terrace low to the water and rolled a cigarette and lit it with a lighter that The Emperor had given her.
“Just don’t make any bets with strangers,” he had said and only Alecto had laughed and The Emperor of the reborn Dominicus star had looked embarrassed.
The taste, the smell, the smoke. As Pyrrha exhaled she felt a warm familiar calm wash over her. There in the salt and the breeze looking out at a rolling ocean that stretched to the horizon, Pyrrha had her own tiny ember of peace.
Alecto lept from the churning waves of the sea like they had spat her out, her dress trailing behind gave her silhouette a tail. She landed in a perfect crouch on the terrace wall accompanied by a wave that managed to slap Pyrrha right in the face.
Alecto held a fish in her mouth, it had short spiny fins and was the colour of a smashed pomegranate.
“Hello,” Pyrrha took her wet cigarette from her mouth and dropped it into the ashtray she had balanced on the wall.
“Hello Pyrrha,” said Alecto, the fish fell from her jaws and landed on the patio.
For a long moment the two held each other's gaze. As the wet sound of the fish flopping around on the floor continued, clear green eyes saw golden irises that were still contracting after being underwater for so long. Alecto hopped off the wall and looked at Pyrrha, and then looked at the wet ashtray.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” Pyrrha pulled out new dry paper and lined it with a generous amount of dry and less dry tobacco. She gently pulled apart the fibers that were clumped together and then slowly teased it all into a cylinder. Rolling the mixture around in the paper with long dexterous fingers that remembered everything from another lifetime.
Pyrrha had the cigarette nearly rolled and then stopped to look at Alecto who was still looking at her hands with an awe that was wholly disproportionate.
“Hey,” said Pyrrha, and Alecto looked up at her. “Stick out your tongue.”
“Blem.” Alecto stuck out her tongue, it was surprisingly ordinary. Pyrrha took her nearly complete cigarette and dragged the trailing end of the paper over the tip of Alecto’s wet tongue. She rolled the paper over sealing the cigarette, lit it with her lighter and took a drag. The taste of the leaves mixed with the faint flavor of salt.
“Thanks,” Pyrrha said this while blowing smoke over Alecto’s face.
“Pyrrha?”
“Hm?”
“You’re SO COOL!”
For the first time in both lives Pyrrha started coughing mid pull on a cigarette.
“Thank you?” Said Pyrrha, and then: “You’re fish is dead.”
“That’s okay I was going to eat it anyway.” Alecto scooped the fish up and bit its head off in one bite. The bones made a shuddering crunch as she chewed. Pyrrha smoked her cigarette.
“Is this where you come to have a snack on your own?”
“It’s after workout protein,” Alecto took another bite and with her mouth full said: “I see John was able to get the tobacco to work.”
“I am a convert,” Said Pyrrha, smoke curling from her smile. “He really is God.”
“Mmm,” Alecto tossed the tail end into her mouth and swallowed it whole. “Yes he has improved.”
“I imagine it takes a lot of work to achieve divinity.”
“Yes,” Said Alecto. “To start with, John didn’t have much experience with necromancy at all and there were so many more dangerous things back then.”
“Dangerous things?” Pyrrha couldn't help but lick her lips.
“Squiggly things that I had to squish and scuttle-y things I had to crush,” Alecto had very specific mimes for ‘squiggly’ and ‘scuttle-y’. Pyrrha felt jealous. “While I protected John he worked out how to use necromancy for himself and then for all of you.”
“How generous.”
“You think so? Necromancy was the answer to John’s wish,” Alecto looked out over the ocean. “I think he was very lonely.”
“He had you.”
“It takes two people to make a universe?” Alecto looked at Pyrrha expectantly. “I wish it worked that way. Would you be okay with only one person for the rest of your life, and your life was forever?”
“The right person maybe.”
“People change every day,” Alecto smiled. “I’ve noticed lately.”
“You’re talking about me?”
“I’m talking about all of you,” said Alecto. “Except you Pyrrha. Everyone is so happy to be alive, why aren't you?”
“I’m happy to be alive,” Said Pyrrha, lying.
“No you’re not,” Alecto looked Pyrrha right in her face, through her eyes and into her core. “You didn’t like being alive, you were disgusted with being dead. You want that feeling you get when you don’t know if you’re about to live or die.”
“...” Pyrrha stood for a moment to absorb Alecto’s nonsense. She saw that her cigarette was nearly finished and she stubbed it out. “Well, John’s plan is to make everyone immortal right? I guess I just have to deal.”
“No you won’t, silly,” Said Alecto. She closed the distance between Pyrrha and herself. “An immortal life has new and interesting ways to die,” Alecto took Pyrrha’s tobacco pouch.
“That sounds like a contradiction,” Pyrrha passed Alecto a rolling paper.
“Oh?” Alecto rolled a new cigarette, her fingers a mirror of Pyrrha’s a moment ago. “Do you think there are no greater challenges out in the universe? New and exciting ways to die?” Alecto held out the unfinished cigarette to Pyrrha’s lips, she licked the paper and Alecto drew it back and finished rolling.
“You sure that will be the same?” Pyrrha struck her lighter.
“Well then how about this? When humanity has reached the summit, when they are all as gods. When every last monster has been vanquished. If you are still not satisfied I will hunt you Pyrrha, I will chase you to the brink of immortal death as much as you can bear,” Alecto put the fresh cylinder to the flame of the lighter and took her first drag.
“You would do that, wouldn’t you?” Pyrrha stared deep into Alecto’s golden gaze, which faltered as she started to cough.
“Oh-” Alecto coughed again. “Oh, that is disgusting.”
“Eh?”
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
“You’ve never had one of these before?”
“It just looked so cool I - ulp!”
Pyrrha could still make out the fin spines in what hit the floor.