Chapter 12
Brir
As the days passed, Artemis’s scales began to heal. The infected skin sloughed off, allowing new, vibrant scales to emerge. Though he still experienced moments of excruciating pain, they were gradually becoming less frequent as his body fought to repair itself. It was a slow process, but there was a steady improvement in his condition, giving me hope that he would soon be back to full strength.
The black ooze that had poured from him that first night hadn’t happened again. I kept forcing food on him, knowing he needed the calories to heal.
Every meal was a battle of wills. Artemis understood the need for nutrition but could only consume so much before his body rebelled against him. More often than not, he’d push the food away, claiming to be full.
This only led to me coaxing him. “Come on. You can do better than that.” The mock irritation in his eyes made me laugh. We’d go back and forth like this until the plate was finally clean, a small victory for both of us.
Artemis never stayed awake for long. He needed rest to heal from the trauma his body had gone through. When he did wake up, I learned small pieces of information about him: what he gave up to take care of his sister, like his bug collection; how he had a cockroach that he would take out on a leash to freak people out in the city; and the ant farm he had built into the walls of their apartment.
His laughter at my shock from his stories filled the room and sent my stomach fluttering. But I was not going to think about it. I couldn’t understand the appeal of insects living in your home’s walls, but Artemis seemed to find something about it enjoyable.
His fondness for the tiny creatures was strange and oddly endearing. He’d tell me stories about his childhood, how he’d spend hours in the yard, observing ants as they toiled tirelessly, beetles skittering across the ground, caterpillars inching along branches. He found a kind of freedom in their minuscule world, a world so removed from ours.
Artemis eventually began to regain his strength. Bit by bit, he started moving around more. His eyes glowed with a new light, a newfound joy for life that wasn’t there before. I’d watch him from the corner of my eye as he’d smile at Dune or laugh at something I said. He was still delicate, still healing, but the progress was evident.
It wasn’t easy. There were days when he’d wake up screaming from nightmares. Some unseen horrors plagued his mind.
With a gasping breath, Artemis’s eyes suddenly snapped open, and he stared at me with a dead gaze. His voice was barely a whisper as he uttered a name that sent shivers down my spine, but it was the smell of his fear that had me shaking him awake.
“Apollo.” His glazed-over eyes seemed to see right through me, lost in some dark, distant realm. I tried to calm him, but he fought against me weakly. His clawed hands scratched down my arm. Speaking his name softly, I tried to get him to see me. To bring him out of his nightmares gently but he only growled and gripped my hand surprisingly hard. I pinned them to his chest with one of my own while I grabbed his face with my other hand, forcing him to look at me.
“Artemis,” I called his name again, this time more firmly. He stilled for me, his body going slack under my touch. “It’s me.” I made my voice softer now that he was coming back to me.
It took several moments of quiet coaxing, but gradually, his grip relaxed completely, and his eyes refocused, clearing the fog.
“Sorry,” Artemis muttered, his voice a strained whisper. “I… I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s alright. You didn’t hurt me,” I assured him, my voice gentle. The light scratches down my arms hadn’t even drawn blood. “Do you want to talk about them?” But there was no answer, only a deepening scowl on his face that showed his confusion. He shook his head as if to clear away a thought before his eyes became focused.
“Artemis.” My voice jerked his eyes back to me. “Look at me.”
Artemis’s eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners, and he quickly shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him.
“Tell me what is haunting you,” I demanded. I slid my hand from his face to the back of his neck, squeezing gently and forcing him to meet my gaze. He was keeping too many things locked up in his mind, and I could see the stress it was putting on him.
Artemis tried to look anywhere but into my eyes as he gathered his thoughts, but I didn't allow him to turn his face away. I was not going to let him hide from me. His scent of fear smoothed out some, the acrid stench calming. The silence that followed was thick with unsaid words.
It took a while for Artemis to gather the courage to speak, but his voice was firm and resolute when he did.
“Brir?” The sound of my name on his lips felt like salvation. It was broken and desperate and yearning all at once.
“Yes, Artemis?” I replied, my heart swelling with appreciation for his trust in me. His eyes were haunted. I wound my hand through his fingers, and my threads glowed when his skin touched mine, though I was still worried I pushed him too hard.
“I…” His words trailed off into nothingness, and he bit his lip in apprehension.
I squeezed his hand reassuringly.
“I’m scared, okay?” he finally admitted in a broken whisper. Despite his hardened exterior and monstrous form, Artemis was just as vulnerable and scared as any other man.
“Artemis…” I began quietly but was cut off by a slight shake of his head.
“No,” he continued, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “It’s the truth. I am different… and it scares me.”
I gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, my heart aching for the confusion and fear that clouded his features.
“It’s okay to be scared, Artemis,” I reassured him. “Anyone would be frightened to come to terms with what you have been through.”
“What if this is what my sister went through?” he said, looking down again at the scales on his arms. “She’s all alone; if this is what she’s going through, I’ve got to find her. I have to get her away from those people.”
I gritted my teeth, not liking the question I knew I had to ask. “Do you think she’s still alive?” I watched as his eyes darkened with anger.
“Yes, She’s my twin. I know she’s still alive. I feel it.” He placed a hand on his chest over his heart. I nodded, understanding his sentiment. I would have done anything to save my sister. I had spent days looking for her remains when I came to terms with the fact that she hadn’t made it out of the mountain.
“Do you have any idea where she is?” I asked.
He shook his head. Tears threatened to fall down his face. “Maybe where they were taking me.”
“Alright,” I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the upcoming conversation. “We should try to find her. I’ll help you search.”
Artemis’s eyes brightened with hope, and his grip on my hand tightened. “Really?”
“Of course,” I assured him. “But you need to get stronger first. You need to heal and take care of yourself.”
He opened his mouth to argue. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do not argue with me on this, Artemis.”
His mouth snapped shut, but his breath quickened, and his cheeks colored. I watched as his throat bobbed.
“I will not allow you to put your life in danger. You’re still healing, and you have no idea where she is. But I know where we can go to try to find out.” As I spoke, I noticed a determined look setting into Artemis’s eyes, a fierce resolve that mirrored my own.
“You do?” He blinked at me, his eyes wide with surprise. The look on his face was a painfully clear mixture of relief and doubt. “You will?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “You’re… you’re not just saying that?” Doubt clouded his azure gaze, but I shook my head firmly.
“I don’t make empty promises, Artemis,” I told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. “We’ll find your sister.”
“How?” he asked.
“We will go see Arya in New Pharia.” I knew Arya would be our best chance to get information about Artemis’s sister. “She will help us.”
A quiet sigh escaped him as he slumped against the threadbare pillows behind him. Tension dissolved from his form, and he looked at me through hooded lids— fragile under the dim light of our shelter.
The gratitude that washed over Artemis’s face made the decision worth it. He squeezed my hand again.
“Thank you.” His voice was soft, and it stirred something inside of me. “For everything. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I told him, brushing off his concerns. “I just want you to get better. Do that for me as payment.”
“Alright,” Artemis agreed softly, offering me a weak, understanding smile. “I… I will. I promise.” His voice was hoarse, but his words rang sincerely as he looked at me, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, grateful smile.
Silence passed as we sat there, our hands still linked together. Artemis’s breathing gradually slowed, his body relaxing under the soft glow of the threads. His eyes drooped as sleep crept in, but he was fighting it. The fear still in his eyes told me the nightmare was still at the forefront of his mind.
He didn’t want me to leave; the fear lingered on his face. It was a fear I understood all too well—the fear of waking up alone in an unfamiliar reality, just as he had.
“I’ll be right here, Artemis,” I reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes fluttered closed after my reassurance. The exhaustion—both physical and emotional—finally took over. The light scratches on my arms were long forgotten as I watched him, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath he took. He drifted off to sleep smiling, and I stayed by his side, watching over him through the night. Despite the nightmare that had woken him, Artemis looked peaceful for the first time since he had arrived.