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The cold should have been the first sign. Scott had never been cold before, so maybe it should have been a little bit higher up on his concerns, but he couldn’t bring himself to be worried. Just annoyed. How had the others ever put up with it during the winter? It was insufferable.
He didn’t just wake up one day feeling it, it was gradual. A small shiver here and there, an extra blanket or two on the bed, and it was fine. He was fine.
Jimmy might have been concerned about him when he saw Scott wearing a coat for the first time, but Scott waved him off. There was no need for him to worry, he was probably just catching a small cold or something.
He pointedly ignored the fact that he didn’t get sick either. The last time he had remembered feeling sick was centuries ago, when Xornoth disappeared, but that wasn’t cold either, it was hot. Feverishly hot.
He had gotten over that in a few days, though, so Scott had been sure that this time he would get better in a week at most. So… he ignored it, going about his duties as king of Rivendell as though nothing was the matter.
The chill settled into his bones, and that was fine, because that way he could get used to it. He was out of blankets to put on his bed, but that didn’t matter. The fire in the fireplace never seemed quite as warm as it once did, but it was always cold in Rivendell, and they were going through a freeze. One that seemed to be getting noticeably worse in the past few days as well.
Even the Nether didn’t feel hot to him anymore, but he didn’t care about that, because he always despised going in the Nether anyway and now he could do it without catching heatstroke.
The weird looks from Gem, Jimmy’s incessant mother henning, Katherine’s concern, all of it was for nothing. He was fine. There was no need to freak out, he’d get over it in a few more days.
And that was what he told himself right up until he doubled over from shivering, falling off his chair and dropping to the floor in the middle of a meeting with all twelve emperors present. Of course it had to be the one time they all actually bothered to show up.
He could hear cries of concern, loud exclamations of confusion, and Jimmy’s panicked shouts. Black spots swarmed his vision, making everything blurry. Had Gem gotten closer than she was a few seconds ago? He couldn’t tell. He felt something wrap around his shoulders, something heavy and warm , which flooded his bloodstream with something tingly.
Scott’s vision started to clear, and he slowly sat up, realizing that everyone was staring at him with a mix of concern and fear. He furrowed his brow in confusion, taking a few seconds to realize what it was that had everyone so spooked.
He had covered the entire chamber from head to toe in snow and ice. Giant icicles hung from the ceiling, threatening to crash to the ground and impale someone at the slightest disturbance. The windows were shattered, jaggad shards of glass scattered across the ground. The floor had turned into an ice skating rink. And it was now snowing in the room. Somehow.
“Scott…” Jimmy said cautiously, taking a step forward. “Are… you okay?”
“No one got hit, right?” Scott asked instead of answering. He looked around and let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see any new impromptu white dye jobs. He remembered how horribly everything had gone the last time he had an outburst. Gem had nearly died. Rivendell had nearly fallen. And the Xornoth crystal…
“No, we all got out of the way in time.” Gem confirmed. “But… What about you? You’re… Scott that wasn’t normal.”
“I know that.” Scott snapped. He winced at his tone, hunching over. “No, I’m fine. Sorry I… I don’t know what happened.” His brow furrowed. Okay, even he could admit that this was getting out of hand. He had no idea what was happening with his magic, but he needed to figure it out fast. Someone was going to get hurt if he didn’t.
Dimly, he registered that Gem was missing her cloak, and that something purple and soft was wrapped around his shoulders. Oh, of course! Gem had heating spells woven into the fabric to combat the Crystal Cliffs’ terrible snowstorms.
“Do you… mind if I hold onto this for a while?” He asked her, begging silently to any god that would listen that she didn’t take it away from him. He grasped the cloak tightly, so hard that his knuckles went white.
Gem’s face softened, and she nodded. “Yeah, of course. Are you sure everything’s okay? Do you need help?”
Scott frowned. “No, I already said I’m fine.” He was being far too irritable for the situation, Gem was only trying to help. But he hated it when people pitied him, hated feeling like they all knew something he didn’t. He didn’t want to stick around and see everyone’s faces, afraid but pretending not to be for his sake.
So he climbed to his feet, wobbling worryingly for a second before steadying. He started towards the door, ignoring Jimmy as he called out to him. He stumbled out of the meeting room, out of Katherine’s castle in the sky, and took off into the air, back towards Rivendell.
The flight home was a blur, literally and figuratively. He felt himself struggling to stay focused several times, and nearly brushed the treetops at one point from drooping down too low, startling a few birds into taking flight.
As soon as he hit the ground again, he was running. He didn’t know where he was going, but his feet carried him, as if moving on their own free will. It took him a minute to figure out, as he ran to the church of Aeor, what destination they had in mind. It was only when he stopped in front of the trapdoor hidden in one corner that he realized.
Every time something was wrong, Xornoth was always at its center. They were messing with him, they had to be. Somehow, they’d found a way to leverage the connection between the two of them. Dear Aeor, even locked away they were still causing problems.
Sighing, Scott bent down and unlocked the trapdoor with a wave of his hand. He lifted it up, grunting from exertion. Was it just him or was the door heavier than it used to be?
A long ladder stretched down into a dark hole, but Scott didn’t have time to go down the normal way. He grabbed onto either side of the wooden poles and jumped, sliding instead. He was grateful for his gloves; this would have done a number on his hands otherwise. The leather was absolutely ruined though, so he’d have to find replacements for them after he’d sorted this mess out.
At the bottom, Scott dashed down the stone corridor, already muttering prayers under his breath. They didn’t have any real effect, if Xornoth was out again there was only so much Aeor could do. But he still prayed, because he did not feel like going a second round with his sibling. Both of them barely made it out alive the first time.
He barged into the chamber where Xornoth’s crystal was being held, prepared for the worst. Images flashed through his mind, of broken ice, ruby fragments, and corruption seeping out from them.
However, he stopped short when he saw that the ice, and the red gem it encased, were still perfectly intact. Pure relief swept through him, and he nearly fell over again. Everything was fine. Xornoth wasn’t escaping, they were still here. Nothing had changed.
Going up to the ice, Scott stared at his sibling’s prison, and wondered when everything had gone so wrong. He and Xornoth were supposed to be twins, the closest bond anyone could have! They were supposed to grow up side by side, together forever. Scott wasn’t even supposed to be king! Xornoth had been born first, they should have been on the throne.
Scott squinted, noticing something suddenly. There was something… coating parts of the crystal. The ice distorted the image and tinted it blue, so he couldn’t see what it was, but Scott still felt a wave of dread.
What was that? Was the crystal breaking? They didn’t look like cracks, but he could never be too sure.
Though it was probably a bad idea, he put his hand up to the frozen barrier, and it gave way under his touch. Scott blinked as a pathway opened up to the crystal at the heart of the column, studying it closely. The constant red glow was… dimming. It was far less bright than it had been before, and the light was flickering unstably.
It almost looked… sickly, if a crystal could be described as sickly. Looking a little closer, the thing that was slowly covering it was… frost. That was new. Xornoth had always been able to repel Scott’s ice and snow. That was their defining feature, they were the fire to combat his ice. Were they… weakening?
That couldn’t be good. Xornoth and Scott were linked; if one died, so did the other. So if Xornoth was getting weaker… Scott sucked in a breath. He reached out and grabbed the crystal, pulling it out. It felt like grasping ice with his bare hands, even with his ruined gloves offering a layer between his skin and the gem.
Scott cradled it gently, like it was a fragile piece of glasswork. “Xornoth?” He whispered, despite knowing that they probably couldn’t even hear him. The crystal reacted to his touch, the glow becoming just a bit stronger. It… was hurting them. The realization affected him more than he thought it would.
Xornoth was no longer the gentle and loving elf who always pretended they were older than they were. But ever since Scott gained back his lost memories, a part of him wanted to see if his twin was still in there. He’d agonized over it for so long, whether it would be worse to try and fail, or never try where he could have succeeded. Could he condemn them to what could very well be a fate worse than death without ever knowing if they could be saved?
In the end, he had to put his people first. He wouldn’t hinge everything on appealing to a person who might not even exist anymore. He had chosen to seal them away, and hopefully he would never have to deal with them again.
…But that didn’t mean Scott wanted them dead.
He frowned, and hurried out of the cave, the crystal clutched tightly in his hand. “I need to get Gem.”
Gem had been surprised to find Scott return to her for help when just a few hours ago he had turned her away. Scott had begged her to help him find an alternative way to trap Xornoth, which seemed entirely out of the blue. She put all that effort into a spell that could have doomed the world if cast wrong, and now he wanted to undo it?
“They’re- they’re dying. I can feel it. And- if they die, so do I.” …Aaaaaand that was all the convincing she needed. She was quick to find an imprisonment spell in her vast collection of grimoires. It was used in the prisons of the Crystal Cliffs, and worked to disable magic and prevent the target it was assigned to from leaving a certain area.
She hadn’t used it before because there was too high a chance of escape, should the spell ever fail, but now with the knowledge that there was something wrong with the crystal, something that was killing Xornoth and by association, Scott, they had to figure something else out.
“I… I don’t like this, Scott.” Gem admitted as she finished up the preparations for the spell. “If something goes wrong, and they get loose…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Scott knew what she meant.
“I know Gem. Trust me, if they ever get out, linked lives be damned, I’ll kill them myself.” Scott promised darkly. He wasn’t sure if that was a promise he could come through on, but it seemed to make Gem feel better all the same.
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She said, and made the final stroke with her chalk, completing the rune. “Now remember, as soon as the crystal breaks, you have to back up quickly, or the spell will activate for you too, and you won’t be able to leave this room until I release you. Considering I need to get back to my empire as soon as possible because I left Fwhip in charge, it could be days before I’m back to check on you.”
“Right.” Scott nodded. “Thanks for this, Gem. I’ll return your cloak to you when everything works out.”
“Keep it.” She said, grinning at him. “I have plenty extra. Sausage and Fwhip ‘borrow’ one of mine every other week and it never gets returned. If something goes horribly wrong, scream and pray that I haven’t left the castle yet.”
The elf laughed. “Will do, Ms. High Wizard. Now get going, I won’t waste any more of your time.”
Gem laughed right back and walked out the door, waving over her shoulder. “Good luck.” She whispered, before slipping out of the room.
Scott felt a small shiver run through him as the warming spells of the cloak tried to keep the cold from coming back. He didn’t have much time before they too, were rendered useless. Walking to the edge of the rune, he stopped and held his arm out so that the crystal was hovering directly above its center.
He took a deep breath, hoping that this wouldn’t backfire spectacularly, and dropped it. It hit the floor and shattered.
A blinding flash of light hit the room, knocking Scott off of his feet and slamming him into the wall. Pain ripped through his body, not just from the impact, but from whatever it was Xornoth was going through. He sank to the ground, hissing through his teeth. Fuck, that was some potent magic.
It was a few moments before Scott opened his eyes, just trying to breathe through the worst of the pain. Was this what Xornoth had been feeling the entire time? Had their crystalline prison been the only barrier that prevented Scott from feeling it too?
When he finally dared to open his eyes, he sucked in a sharp breath.
Xornoth was on the ground, unconscious and looking the worst Scott had ever seen them. One of their horns was broken off. Their lips were blue. Their pitch black skin was now an ashy gray. Manacles seemingly made of ice encircled their wrists and ankles, the chains connecting to them broken. And their hair, which had been black and red, was now an awful, all too familiar white.
It had been purple, once. Scott didn’t know if it would ever go back to normal now.
He stood back up slowly, taking a hesitant step towards his sibling. They didn’t move, and Scott felt his heartbeat pick up despite himself. He knew that if Xornoth was dead, he would be too, but that didn’t stop the terror.
He nudged them with his foot, but they didn’t even respond. Concern increasing, he knelt down and placed a hand on their arm, but yanked it away immediately. They were freezing, so exhausted that they weren’t even shivering.
“Shit… shit shit shit.” Scott looked around, and saw the unlit fireplace. Okay. Okay he could do this. Time to… save his sibling. Who had tried to kill him. Multiple times. Here goes nothing.
~
Xornoth awoke warmer than they had been in… Aeor knows how long. They were actually laying down, not being forced to sit up from their manacles, where the closest they could get was resting their forehead on the floor. Which they hadn’t done in a while, not since they fell asleep and woke up with one less horn.
Something pleasantly heavy was laying on top of them, like a weighted blanket but made of a slightly coarser material. They could hear the sounds of a crackling fireplace.
Well, either they’d gone crazy, or they were dead, and honestly, they weren’t sure which option they were rooting for. Anything would be better than being stuck in that crystal forever, doomed to a slow and endlessly painful demise, with their brother having been the one to sentence them to it.
They wondered if Scott knew what he was putting them through when he let that pathetic excuse of a wizard trap them. They wondered if it even mattered if he knew or not, because he still let it happen.
Time in the crystal was… weird, they weren’t sure how long it had been since they were trapped. It hadn’t been that bad at first, really. Sure, they’d been imprisoned, but at least they were alive. There was always a way out of things, so long as they were still alive. They’d crawled out of hell, they could crawl out of this too.
And everything seemed clearer, in their prison. As little sense as it made, Xornoth felt more in control of themself than they had in a long time. It took them a while to figure out why, and when they did, they wanted to sob in relief. Exor was gone. They weren't in their head anymore.
With Exor pulling back their influence, Xornoth’s power, sourced from them, also started to fade. They could feel the core where their magic was stored growing weaker and weaker. They didn’t really care, if that was the price they had to pay for freedom, then they would take it.
But then one day, everything got colder. It wasn’t a lot at first, Xornoth wouldn’t have noticed it at all if they’d had literally anything else to do. But it got worse. Soon ice started creeping down the walls, and up the chains, until everything was coated in it. Until the magic had seeped into their restraints and turned them to pure ice.
Xornoth had never felt cold before, the fire in their soul kept them from being touched by it. But it was the most awful thing they’d ever felt.
Minutes felt like hours as they shivered, their battle-torn clothing not meant for winter temperatures and their wrists and ankles somehow both numb and in excruciating pain. They couldn’t feel their fingers. They couldn’t feel anything. Their muscles were aching. Everything was cold- now it was warm.
A brutal, and perhaps fitting, punishment. They spent their time pulling at the chains and begging silently for Aeor to have mercy and let them out.
But of course they didn’t. They didn’t care for the champion of their twin, because just like Scott and Xornoth, they’d stopped loving one another a long time ago. And so they just sat there, a constant cycle between depressing certainty that they were never going to escape, and desperation to get out, for it to all be over, they were sorry, please, just make it stop, please, they were sorry-
They must have blacked out, finally succumbing either to the cold or to their own mind. Maybe they should be a little more upset about that, but all they could think was thank Aeor it’s over.
They rolled onto their side, the softness underneath them… familiar somehow. Like it was made to fit them perfectly. The room smelled like home, the familiar scent of flowers and woodsmoke from all the fireplaces. They cracked one eye open, and were greeted by the sight of their childhood room in the Rivendell palace.
They realized whatever was pulled over them had some sort of magic imbued in it, probably aimed at keeping them warm. They pulled it tighter around them, cherishing their first taste of heat in months.
The room was hot, hotter than anyone else would find comfortable, but it was perfect to them. Rivendell had always been colder than they liked, and after being stuck in an ice block for a while, they would take anything that wasn’t fifty below freezing.
Looking over at the enormous fireplace, they were surprised to see a familiar figure squatted down, stoking the fire. If his giant ass wings didn’t give who he was away immediately, the electric blue hair definitely would have.
Apprehensiveness instinctively curled in their gut. “Scott?” They muttered to themself as they sat up slowly. It wasn’t meant to be heard, but of course Scott heard them anyway. He stood up quickly and turned around, several emotions flickering across his face.
“You’re awake.” He said, and started walking towards them. Xornoth flinched, narrowing their eyes and leaning back, causing their brother to stop short.
Xornoth looked around the room again, noting how everything looked exactly the same as it did when they left. “My room?” They said questioningly.
“I thought you’d be more comfortable here than the dungeon.” Scott shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “You had me worried there for a bit.”
“You. Were worried about me?” Xornoth snorted. “Great, I really am dead.” Well, that was a relief, at least.
Scott’s brow furrowed. “You aren’t dead.” He said. “Why would you think that?”
“Um… because I passed out and woke up in a place I haven’t seen in literal centuries?” It was a pretty clear conclusion to draw. They raised an eyebrow at their brother, a challenge to prove them wrong.
“You’re not dead.” Scott repeated. “I came to check on the crystal and it was… it was freezing over. I was able to get you out before either one of us… well, you know.” He laughed, strained and awkward. “Are you… feeling alright?”
Xornoth’s brother was pretty socially inept when he was younger. He’d grown out of it eventually, but sometimes it still shone through. In all that time, not once, had he been awkward around them. Not even when Scott fought with them for the first time, without his memories of the two of them.
That was always what Xornoth had used as an excuse when they clashed, that Scott didn’t remember them, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know he was fighting his own sibling. But… in their last confrontation, when Scott sealed them away, he knew. He remembered everything by then. And he still chose to do it.
“What do you think?” They snapped, twisting away. Anger festered deep within them, anger that they knew wasn’t healthy to hold onto but didn’t care. Their brother, the person they loved more than anything, had betrayed them. He hadn’t been able to look past the surface level demon and see the person just underneath. Scott hadn’t thought they were worth saving.
Scott’s face blanched, momentarily stunned by their tone, even though he had no right to be. Xornoth couldn’t believe him, did he really think they would be happy to see him?
“I didn’t know.” Scott whispered, correctly picking up on what they were angry about. “I promise I didn’t know.”
“You think that makes it better?” Xornoth crossed their arms against their chest defensively. “I nearly died because of your ignorance, and your- your blind trust in something you knew nothing about.”
Scott opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if taken off guard by their hostility. “I thought we did enough research, but-”
“Well clearly, you didn’t, and we both very nearly paid the ultimate price for that mistake.” Xornoth hissed. “Not that you would have cared.”
Scott bristled defensively. “That’s not true-”
“Oh of course it’s not. We’re linked, aren’t we? If I die, you go with me.” All of the hatred, all of their resentment that had built up inside of them over their imprisonment was spilling forth, with no way to stop it. Part of them didn’t want to.
“That’s not the only reason.” Scott offered weakly, but even he seemed to realize how dumb it sounded.
“Oh, don’t start. Don’t act like you ever cared about me.” Xornoth’s eyes burned into their little brother’s skull. “Like you ever tried to help me at all. You did this to me. It’s your fault. You just wanted to slay the monster and be the hero of your little perfect fairytale.
“You pretend to be all noble in your intentions of trying to find a way to spare my life, but we both know the truth, Scott Smajor.” They spit the name out like acid. “You’re a coward. If you really cared about your friends half as much as you claim to, you would have put both of us out of our miseries a long time ago.”
They regretted it as soon as they said it. That was their baby brother, how could they even dream of saying such awful things to him? But it was out there now, and they couldn’t take it back even if they wanted to. They were so, so angry, but more than that, they were hurt. The two of them were supposed to be in this together. Yet when Xornoth had been corrupted by Exor, Scott had turned his back on them.
Scott stared at them, pained and shocked. Xornoth awaited a response, having gotten out everything they needed to say, and glared at their brother, a silent question hanging in the air. How would the elf king respond?
Scott could be self righteous at times, and he didn’t take well to being insulted. At least, he hadn’t back when Xornoth still knew him. But now? It was a complete mystery how Scott would take someone else’s hatred shoved in his face.
Xornoth’s question was answered when after a few moments, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes went suspiciously glassy.
“You’re right.” He said. “I’m not who everyone thinks I am. I’m not brave, and I’m not pure hearted. I’m selfish. The only reason I rescued you is because I was afraid to die.”
He looked away, ashamed. “I never wanted to be a champion of Aeor. I always knew I wasn’t fit for it. If I was… I would have tried to do more for you. I failed you, and I failed our people.” He used the heel of his hand to wipe his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Our people. Scott had called the elves their people.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Xornoth didn’t believe a word that came out of Scott’s mouth, didn’t trust the tears running down his face, even as he tried to wipe them away. They were empty, they didn’t mean a thing. Xornoth couldn’t allow themself to fall into this trap.
So why did their shoulders still lower, the tension draining out of their body? If they could see straight through this act, why was it so hard to be angry all of a sudden?
“You meant the world to me, Scott.” They said quietly. “I’d just hoped that you thought of me the same way.”
“I… I think I did.” Scott admitted. “I think at some point, you were the only person I cared about. But I… honestly don’t remember anymore. I have the memories, yeah, but they don’t feel like mine. They feel like some other version of me, one that disappeared the moment you did.”
“Then I guess we’ve both been replaced, huh?” Xornoth huffed and turned away as Scott sat on the edge of the bed.
The champion of Aeor laughed bitterly. “I guess so.”
The two of them sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. Xornoth wanted to keep yelling, but in truth, they were just tired. Tired and confused and relieved and with all of those other emotions, there was no room for anger. That could come later, once they didn’t feel quite so… lost.
They sighed, long and drawn out, and gave into their curiosity. “So then, why keep me here?”
“Huh?” Scott looked up from staring at his hands.
“Why keep me here, of all places? You said it yourself, you need me alive and at least somewhat healthy, but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me well. I’m your enemy. I tried to kill you.” It was the one thing they couldn’t understand. Even if Scott didn’t want to put them in a cell underneath the castle out of some misplaced sense of guilt, he didn’t have to bring them here. There were bound to be plenty of open guest rooms for them.
This was the one place in the castle where they felt safe, away from the stares and whispers of the courtiers. The privacy of their own quarters offered sanctuary from the nasty rumors spread about them. How ironic that it would now serve as their prison for the rest of eternity.
“You’re not my enemy. You never were.” Their little brother said, tone soft. “I thought being here would… well, I’m not really sure, but I couldn’t see you anywhere else.”
“...Huh.” Xornoth said, studying Scott with a scrutinizing gaze. Scott gave them a questioning look. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? You just laid all of that out there without even knowing if it was… me or not.”
“I think the fact that you didn’t attack me on sight as soon as you woke up speaks for itself.” Scott smirked, his tone suggesting he was only half joking. “Demonic appearance aside, you never would have passed up an open opportunity to sneak up on me from behind, hypothermia be damned.” He paused for a moment. “And besides, your voice has gone back to normal.”
A hand flew to their throat. They… hadn’t even noticed. Scott snickered at their reaction.
“It’s just… nice to have you back. The real you.” He said, a small and shy, but genuine smile on his lips. From the time Xornoth spent observing Scott, trying to see who their brother had grown up to be, the only person they had ever witnessed him being shy around was his lover. It didn’t suit him, like an ill-fitting dress.
“You have no idea what the real me is like.” Xornoth pointed out. They still couldn’t quite trust this openness. Like a mousetrap, that would snap shut as soon as they stuck their fingers in.
Scott shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the suspicion. “Maybe not, but I’m looking forward to finding out.”