Notes: Pre-Project [A]esir timeline for Saint.
***
“Get in there!”
Jean groaned at the muffled voice. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one dirty sleeve, adjusting his vision to the dimness of the cell that came to be his bedroom this past year. His and his brother’s that is. Keys jingled in the lock and a moment later, light shone into his dark world. He squinted at the light, shielding his eyes as he tried to focus instead on the body that was thrown roughly into the room.
“You will get what you deserve!” The man standing at the doorway bellowed. From Jean’s perspective, the guard had a round physique, almost ball like with four robust limbs and a shaggy red mane for hair. The rumpled uniform the older man wore was something he’d gotten used to seeing. Of course, that was a given. They were always escorted back to their rooms ever since that crazy stunt the siblings pulled off during their first week. But he reigned in his thoughts from a trip down memory lane, focusing once again on the guard as he sought to find a way to aptly describe the man.
...A dwarf. The wizard concluded and mentally smiled. From what he could see, the older man did have a beard that could rival one of those little men with a few more years of growing it out. And he had a gruff voice as he berated his brother, who remained silent and unmoving on the floor. Jean couldn’t help but let out a sudden laugh with the multitude of thoughts that suddenly came with listening to his incessant ranting.
The guard heard his laugh and stopped, looking at the other ‘prisoner’ sitting against the cell wall. “What’s so funny?” He demanded, clenching and un-clenching his fists.
Jean paused in his laughter, long enough to answer the quietly seething man, “Pardon me, my good man. But I believe I am laughing at the fact that you, a simple-minded grunt, would so boldly assume that we would simply let you bully us into submission.”
“Why you little...”
Jean looked up now, gracing the man with a small smile and an odd glint in his eyes. Whatever that glint was, the burly guard took a wary step back as his hand flew to the wooden mace attached to his belt. Jean continued in a singsong voice, his expression never faltering, “You aren’t a scientist for one, just a mere grunt who believes that you would be safe from harm just because we appear to be at our weakest.”
Then the man tittered, the laughter growing louder and more deranged with each moment that passed. He stood up, pushing himself from the wall and standing upright. Eyes of deep, emerald bore stared straight at the smaller man like he was considering whether to eat him or not.
“Don’t underestimate what we are capable of. If you do know what’s good for you, you’d do well to keep that door between you and us.” As if to emphasize the warning the deed he was about to do, crackles of lightning danced at the tips of his fingertips of one hand. “You would have been dead moments ago for even prolonging your presence in our territory, dwarf. So leave, unless you’d fancy a night with us.” The grin on his was positively gleaming with sadism. Jean took one menacing step forward and that was all it took for the man to completely step out of the cell, grabbing the door as he shouted at Jean, “L-Let’s see who’ll be laughing in the end!”
And with that, the door slammed shut, followed by the sharp click of the lock. Silence overrode the two occupants. The body on the floor had yet to show signs of life, but Jean wasn’t too worried. Not yet anyway. The sadistic gleam on his face slowly faded away, leaving only exhaustion and disgust as he stared at the door. He had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing on his knees as what little strength he mustered began to ebb.
Moments passed. No other sound could be heard in the room until Jean broke the silence with his curt tone, “How long do you plan on lying there?”
A groan escaped the mess of hair, and body turned until it was lying on his side, facing the quiet man. Jean raised a brow at a boyish face so similar to his own, yet so riddled with bruises and small cuts. That face returned the blank stare with a painful wince every few seconds. “Well... that one could have gone better...” The body on the floor muttered.
Years of dealing with fellow pragmatic, egoistic mages had made Jean resist the urge to punch his presently less-than-sensible brother, settling for a roll of his eyes instead. Honestly...
“What did you do this time, Johan?”
Johan flashed a toothy grin at his twin. “I bit him.” Then he stuck out his tongue. “But that was because he kept telling me to ‘Move it!’ and kept shoving me forward until I was sure I could’ve tripped over my own feet. Demanding dwarf, if I--”
Jean cut his brother off. “You were tired and angry with the scientists being ignorant of your ‘fragility’.” He stood up from his spot against the wall and dragged his brother by the wrists, ignoring the squeaked protest of pain from the younger man. There wasn’t anything Jean could do, he didn’t have enough strength to carry him properly after his own ordeal earlier that day.
He pulled Johan to his own spot and gently raised him so that he half-laid against the cold stone wall. “After enduring the stress of today, you did the most intelligent thing you can do to assault the guard sent to pick you up.” The wizard concluded his earlier statement.
“Fuck yeah and it felt good too!” His twin sounded almost proud of it.
“Language, Johan.” Jean lightly scolded. He sat beside his brother, running a hand through that unruly hair and thought belatedly of a comb. They both needed one badly. He wondered if he could snitch one off somewhere when he’s going to be taken to the laboratories again tomorrow.
Johan snorted, tilting his head up with a grin plastered on his face. “Meh, who cares? And were you actually serious about zapping the guy to death?”
“I was obfuscating weakness, using most, if not all, the factors of a semi-deranged, morally uninhibited test subject to pull off what is a bluff to the intellectual eye, but a fearsome and convincing act to that of a simple minded fool.” Jean replied blandly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He added with a small shake of his head, “I don’t even have the strength to cast a simple Sight spell.”
“Well if you ask me, it was better than what you did the other day.” The wizard half of the siblings could practically feel the teasing insult his brother put behind those words. A vein throbbed, his otherwise calm demeanour being poked at by his sibling.
“Don’t bring it up, Johan.” He said slowly, warningly. He stopped running his hand through his brother’s hair and let it fall to his side. “Don’t you dare.”
“Aw, Aniki. I’m shocked and hurt by that.” If there had been enough light in the cell they shared, Jean would have seen that all too familiar look, dubbed as the “Kicked Puppy” by their mother when she was still alive.
“But oh dear, oh dear, how feminine was that slap! Maybe if you had a glove, it would have been even more interesting! Is that how wizards do it?” Dear Odin, how did anyone ever mistake his taunt-happy brother to be anything like him?
“You are really asking for it, little brother!” Jean growled a warning, but at the same a wicked gleam shone in his eyes. Unfortunately, the dim cell did not let Johan see that. The priest grinned, sitting up and giving his brother a light shove.
“Pimp slap!” Johan teased one more time before he was pounced on and had his ticklish spots assaulted mercilessly.
“Aha, you little fiend! You think you can best your obviously better half?” Jean laughed, pinning his brother the way he used to such that he couldn’t evade from his ticklish hands. “Maybe in a million years, but not now! Oh you are so going to pay for that.”
“A... aniki...”
Jean would have continued tickling his brother, that was until he heard the pleas in between gasps of breath. He got off quickly, seeing Johan instantly curl on his side, gasping and coughing painfully.
“Johan? Johan! Odin and the Aesirs, I’m sorry I forgot!” Cold dread ran down the wizard’s spine as he reached out and rubbed a hand across his brother’s back, hoping to Valhalla and back he was alright. Each moment that passed felt like hours, and even when Johan finally calmed and was only catching his breath, the dread Jean felt never left.
“Johan... talk to me. Please.”
The younger man wearily blinked up at his twin. “I guess... that last one... made me more dizzy than before.” Johan laughed weakly. “... They’re getting less careful with us, aren’t they?” Jean didn’t want to think what sort of carelessness the bastards had done to his brother.
“Can you heal yourself?” Jean’s eyebrows furrowed in concern when he saw the shaking outline of Johan’s head. The younger twin answered, “Kinda... tortured me. On top of that, they hit me with a Soul Siphon... just a weak one though.” He re-enacted the scientists’ earlier actions with a weak gesture of his hand.
Jean mentally cursed. Soul Siphoning... Those bastards! He hoped they all die a painful death. Amidst his ramblings, the wizard lifted up his brother. Despite his exhaustion, he carried Johan the short distance to the only bed in the room, and then carefully laid him on his back.
“Aniki... I’m fine.” Johan protested, turning to face his brother.
Jean could only return his statement with a solemn sounding sigh. He wasn’t convinced. “Stupid brother, get some rest.” He muttered, ruffling his hair. He sat down again, leaning against the bed and returned to contemplating his thoughts in silence.
“... I’m sorry.” Johan whispered, his voice low and hoarse. The priest turned on his side, eyeing the back of Jean’s head. The wizard tilted his head, but did not look at him. “Sorry?”
“For making you worry.”
Jean snorted, averting his eyes at some point on the floor. “You don’t need to apologize. This is what we do best, remember? Making each other worry... being there for each other...” The older twin replied, a note of wistfulness finding its way into his voice. “Nothing will ever change that.”
“Even with all this crazy shit happening?”
A low chuckle escaped Jean’s throat. “More so with this crazy shit happening. Now sleep, you stupid brother of mine.”
We only have ourselves to rely on.
The priest could not find the words to properly reply to that. But he felt, he didn’t need to. Jean already understood and knew.
Slowly he allowed fatigue and exhaustion to finally overtake him. In the fog of sleep that was gently washing over his sense, he faintly heard the click of the lock and the sudden snap of Jean’s head towards the sound. The creak of the door sounded so far away, yet he was still here, just barely. Light seeped in through the door, bringing more luminosity into the darkened room with each moment it widened. Was the guard back to harass them? Perhaps bringing a few more friends to back him up?
Coward.
He turned his head ever so slightly at Jean, noticing Jean’s whole form tensing at the person who entered their cell, but what really told him that it wasn’t a guard coming to torment was the extremely hostile look in those tired eyes. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck shoot up at the sudden change in the room’s atmosphere.
“Faust.”
His brother uttered.
END ENTRY.
