Chapter Text
It’s red, like the expensive, imported wine from Fontaine he sees some of the Fatui who seldom come recruit drink after dark, like the fish bait father sometimes uses when he catches fish, and like the fish themselves when they lay there on the ice, the slash on their throat leaking blood.
A whole lot of sticky, gory, crimson colored blood which would ooze out onto the cold hard…ground.
Ajax surveys the view around him. It’s nowhere near close to looking like the snow-white home he’s used to. Instead, the ground below him is like an infinite void, the ceiling above him is like the night sky, with the only crack of light slowly shrinking, and the walls around him covered with a layer of dark gray fog.
The smell of death is not fit for an innocent child like him. Ajax does not know what to do. Instinct, routine kicks in and he finally reacts, in the only way he knows, by crying.
Because wanting embrace is all he’s ever known in the safe barriers of his home, because that’s all he was comfortable doing, because he survived like that for fourteen years and that has worked, but not anymore.
Glowing butterflies from the fog come flapping their wings towards him and for the briefest moments of moments, he stops, mesmerized by the scene in front of him, before the moment comes to an end and the awe is replaced by beautiful torture. Beautiful because the butterflies never stopped glowing, instead lighting up brighter than a thousand stars. Torture because Ajax immeditly shut his eyes and raises his hands to swat away their carnivorous jaws from his face.
Gradually, his hands turn bloody, his face burns hot, and his body feels weak.
He reaches out towards the light above when suddenly in the blink of an eye, a minute of peace washes over him. Then the agony comes. It twists his body like dough and crushes his head so brutally that it feels like his brains are splurging out. And the monster makes its way down choking him, leaving him grasping for air. A burning feeling bubbles rips below his skin
His inside rumbles like a volcano and when it’s time to erupt, his nails stretch and pinch at the ends making them feel like heavy kitchen knives. His body morphs into a barbarian, growing in size, making Ajax no longer a runt but a beast. His leg lift off the ground and he finally opens his eyes to see he actually is floating in the middle of the air, a starry cape behind him.
As soon as he realizes this, the pain stops and the butterflies fly away.
Above, the small crack is slowly closing in. The last pure light from the moon is fading. Relief floods over him as he steps onto solid floor. For the first time in his life and hopefully the last, he gets on his knees, head to the dead ground and by no means is he a religious person but when he is at the last choice of what he is able to do, he will lower his dignity like the many and pray for help from the gods.
The decaying earth enveloping him is a crude embrace. The silence around him is threatening. The corruption clings onto him like a hungry parasite. His brain chemistry changes from the few minutes he’s down there, but in this split-second, he obtains the knowledge of the abyss. He is now one with the abyss.
His prayer gets answered and a fawn along with a singular forget-me-not flower are the last thing that falls from the sky before the rift closes and Ajax is stuck there forever.
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“Mother? What are those?”
His mother stops to look. “Oh honey, those are Forget-me-not flowers. Aren’t they pretty? Oh but I think these flowers suit you more.” She picks a nearby white flower. “These are called Lily of the Valley. Oh how beautiful. They were planted after I was married. They’re like tears, isn’t that cute?”
“Oh okay. What are these then?” he points to another flower and the discussion moves on.
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When Ajax gains lucidity again, he no longer has anything fowl beneath him. Rather, in place of the rotting corpses is a soft mat of deer hide and the scenery around him is stone walls, albeit greatly worn down, not the void.
A roar comes from the distance. Ajax, startled by the noise, rushes to stand up. In his fit of panic, he doesn’t notice the dark figure in front of him.
“Don’t move.”
At the unfamiliar voice, he freezes. “Don’t come closer,” he calls out.
“I can do whatever I want.” The stranger disregards his statement and gets up from their seating position to move closer to him.
Ajax struggles to move. He starts twitching, trying to move at least one finger but the pain is too much. “What’d you do to me?” He finally notices half his body is covered in a dark mist mixed with badly wrapped bandages.
The stranger leans over him. “What are you doing down here?” She says in a stern tone, like a drill sergeant inspecting his every move.
“What’s your name?” Ajax fires back. If he was himself a day ago, even he would be surprised by his sudden change of attitude.
The stranger contemplates for a moment before responding, “Skirk. My name is Skirk.”
“Well my name is-” Ajax gets interrupted by Skirk.
“What are you doing down here? I don’t want to know your name. I’ll call you whatever I want and you should call me master.” Skirk glares at him.
“...I fell down here.”
Skirk looks at him. “You're skinny, boy. How have you not been mauled by the Abyssal Heralds or Lectors?”
“...”
“You’re lucky you fell near somewhere empty.” Skirk twirls a flower in her hands. “Go back to sleep,” she commands and he listens because he is too tired to move.
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The next time Ajax wakes up, he’s no longer in pain anymore. The dark mist must have done something after all.
Skirk is still in front of him, waiting. “Boy. From now on, you’ll follow what I say. You’re going to survive, endure, and evolve. Otherwise the abyss will consume you. Do you understand?” She points her sword at his neck. “Do you understand?” she says again when he doesn’t immediately reply.
“...I understand..”