Fallen Máni: Horse

Midday went on, searing hot and bright. 

Sköll almost doze off with the heat and luminosity, feeling his head pulsing viciously. Above him was his millenia old enemy, radiating her light on him. 

If only she knew I was right in front of her, he mused, in mockery and in dread.

He almost considered stopping the van to rest, but he could feel his brother’s displeasure, even as he slumbered. 

He couldn’t afford to lay down his defenses, not then.

“My, you sure seem content. I work my ass off driving this thing, and all you do is sleep.”

If Hati heard, he didn’t seem to show, continuing to sleep as he did. Maybe he’s on to me, Sköll shrugged. If he was on his contempt mode, it’d be unlikely that he would do anything. 

Sköll was the fair subject of disgust throughout his life, so he knew how to read others’ willingness to go one step further and hurt him. And how to see when someone was in a perceived high ground, not wanting to waste their time. 

That suited him just fine, even if he still felt a little emotional pitch, by now almost a subconscious sliver.

He turned the wheel, his eyes scouring the surroundings for a good place to stop. There were few other vehicles in sight, small mirages in the vast expanse of asphalt.

The landscape was almost desolately silent. Hills and mountains rose not far ahead, the naked peaks and cliffs contrasting against the verdant slopes. 

At his left, he could already see a small town, adjacent to a system of roads not apparently connected to the highway. Sköll, though, could already more or less infer where a link would happen after several hours of watching similar patterns. 

He was tempted to find said link and stop by in that town. Doing so, however, could trigger Hati into retaliating physically, impatient and temperamental as he was, and Sköll was in no position to evade his attacks. 

Still, the joint rewards of provoking his brother and causing chaos was so tempting.

Oh, why Aunt not, he decided, smirking mischievously, turning the wheel to the left. 

He saw the point of contact, a spiraling loop, and drove to the highway’s left side, taking a steep turn. Hati growled, but it Sköll turn to not care, and he approached the loop in a diagonal fashion. 

Sköll was sure he was going against the intended directions, based on the arrows. The idea of  a car crash was at first unappealing due to the potential for pain, but it was also exciting, and in the end that’s all that really mattered to the wolf, reveling in what would happen.

As he drove down the loop, adrenaline pumped through his veins, and in the curves he shook the van side to side, swinging the vehicle around until it left the loop. 

In response, Hati barked, a sound like an empire's fall.

Something burst inside Sköll, making him suddenly feel very threatened and frightened.

“Again, Sköll?” shouted Hati.

Much to Hati's surprise, his brother didn’t come up with an immediate quip. 

Sköll breathed frantically, before producing a strange vocalization that sounded somewhere between a whine and a growl. 

Hati could tell that he was in a moment of weakness, and waited.

Sköll stopped the van, not even bothering to leave the middle of the road, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t think properly, too overwhelmed by panic. 

Hati had crashed his walls in a swift, unpredictable instant. 

Sköll felt out of control, something that hadn't happened for decades. He hiccuped, his eyes began to water, and he bit his lip, trying not to cry. 

Another hiccup forced its way out, however, and he couldn’t hold it anymore. 

Hati breathed deeply, closing his eyes. Sköll was sobbing, his hands on his eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. The golden wolf didn’t say a word, waiting for his brother to be done.

Suddenly, the sound of a car horn filled the air, quickly followed thrice-fold. A car passed past them. 

Sköll only seemed to vaguely notice this, while Hati turned to a window, jumping into a seat to get a better look. His snout pressed against the glass, soon steaming and cracking with boiling water over his frustration. 

He jumped to another seat, which was utterly broken by the heat of his breath.

Around them a couple more cars passed, one also beeping. Hati eventually reached the end windows, rearing up to watch. 

Under normal circumstances, Sköll would’ve mocked him for looking so dog-like, but it wasn’t a normal circumstance, and he wasn’t done crying.

Something about that lack of response made Hati particularly annoyed, but he was soon distracted by a distant sound of sirens. 

Soon, the glimpse of a police car was apparent. Though Hati wasn’t sure of what it was, he could feel that it didn’t herald anything good. 

“Open the door” Hati commanded.

Sköll turned to his brother, his eyes red. A hiccup escaped his mouth, and he seemed momentarily angry at that, disliking the loss of control. 

Hati sighed, and turned to a door, clawing at it, trying to mimic Sköll’s handling. He then remembered he broke through the opposite window, and jumped through it, the door being ripped apart and stuck around his neck.

Sköll’s gaze followed him until he disappeared beyond the windows. He thought Hati looked even more like a dog, and he quickly turned his gaze aside.

This was followed by some gunshots, screaming and the sound of a vehicle crashing violently. Sköll enjoyed that, but he couldn’t get over his weakness, his feelings of inadequacy. 

Resentment at himself pooled inside, and he reached about erratically, for something to grab and crush. 

Just as he did, however, a bright light flared in front of the glass. Sköll was immediately consumed by dread.

So I see that you have taken to ignore my dictate. Your brother is out of control, he will blow your cover.

Sköll simply snarled. For a moment he could feel his sadness be burned away, but it was a fleeting respite.

“I’m not in the mood” he growled, his human upper lift bobbing slightly like a wolf's.

I suppose not. Acknowledging responsibility is something you cannot do. Always short sighted, always reckless, always weak in spirit.

“Shut up! Just shut up, or I’ll-”

You will do what? I am your kind benefactor. Turn against me, and your ambitions will fall like your false skin. And you know well how pointless that would be.

Sköll growled again. He tried to look away, but he had his sight locked.

“You’re just going to pester me now, aren’t you?” he cried.

I am reminding you that your brother is on the loose because you gave in to your whims, your disgusting, sadistic whims. Your stupidity would be pathetic if it wasn't undermining our cause.

“I’m so happy you went out of your way to stick it to me” Sköll snarked, finding a sliver of strength, “Maybe you forgot the little detail that I’m a god of chaos.”

Please, you do not believe in the petty differences between the clans. If you did you wouldn’t have agreed to my terms. No, this is your failing and your failing alone.

Sköll bit his lip. 

He was growing weary of being eroded by insults, exhausted far more than any distance across Yggdrasil or any of the Nine Worlds. He didn't even have the luxury to run away from that conversation. 

A brief thought about slitting his own throat coursed through his mind, but Sköll knew he wouldn’t allow it. Besides, he wouldn’t take his own life for him. 

Sköll was proud of his ability to be petty, sometimes the only thing keeping him alive.

“You must be truly proud, kicking someone at his lowest” Sköll sniveled.

I do pity you, but you are still a murdering, deceitful snake. The least you could do is atone, but even at that you are hopeless.

Something inside Sköll snapped, as if a dagger punctured some vital artery.

“I hate you, I hate you so much!” he said, clenching his teeth.

Sköll’s eyes filled with a strange pressure. They felt like they were about to explode, but he didn’t care, his passion overwhelming his hesitation.

“You’re just like the Æsir, always so self-righteous and so high and mighty! You think you can just barge in while I’m in pain and complain and insult me!? So what if I made a stupid little mistake? All I do is make mistakes, all I am is a mistake! You knew what you’re dealing with, you only have yourself to blame for being a complete moron and trust me!”

I suppose so. Which is why I want you to prove yourself.

More than ever Sköll wanted to turn away, but his sight was still locked.

You better than anyone understand why we need to do this. The Aesir see you as monster, the Jötnar as weak. You know how fickle the hands of the gods can be. You are in the best position to break free from their despise, so any moment where you falter is a second wasted, when you should be better.

“Well, what if I don’t want to be better?" Sköll cried, a tear running down his left cheek, "What if I’m fine with this!?”

You are obviously not. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come to me. You cannot deceive me into ignoring the light within.

Sköll said nothing. The last time someone said something nice about him, while knowing his true nature, was when the last of Leif Erikson's men died.

The wolf was certain that it was simply what he wanted to hear, to convince him to not stray from their path - but, then again, why the effort for such a worthless thing as he was? What could he possibly gain with this?

Think what you will of my kindness. What matters is that you do not lapse again.

“Easier said than done.”

Then pray that Asgard remains blind to us.

The light disappeared, and Sköll's head was free again. Until he recalled his brother’s rampage, and got out of the van, tripping out of the door. 

Outside, fragments of the police cards were scattered around, smashed and cracked. The door Hati dragged along nested among the corpses of the door cars, as broken as the bodies within and outside of them.

Hati himself was nowhere to be seen, but his Sköll didn't need to. He's such a loud chewer.

He slowly approached the car corpses from the side, first catching a glimpse of his brother’s golden pelt. As Sköll walked parallel to the rubble he saw him fully, as he gnawed at a blood-stained uniform. 

Any other time, Sköll would be quite delighted by the sight in front of him, but he hadn’t yet recovered fully from his breakdown. Still, he was confident enough to wait, to watch Hati’s every move.

“What do you want?” Hati growled, so deeply that his brother immediately thought of the distant space between the stars.

Sköll was almost taken back by the brusqueness, but he didn’t allow himself to falter. Any amount of regained self-control, no matter how small, was enough for him, even if it practically amounted to nothing. 

“I was driving us to a town nearby" Sköll began, "So you could stop whining for a change. Obviously, thanks to your little rampage, we can’t do that anymore.”

“We can" Hati scoffed, "Better still, since we can stretch our legs now. I do not care much for this charade.”

“You should” Sköll responded, “unless you want the One-Eye to kill us.”

Hati said nothing, simply staring at the roadside. Sköll's head was quickly filled by thousand ways to regain his power, but seeing his brother like that snuffed them out. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Yet.

“When we get there, what do we do?” Hati asked, turning again towards Sköll.

For the first time in centuries, Sköll saw something akin to genuine conceding in Hati’s gaze. He couldn’t help but smile slightly, and allowed himself some loosening of his defenses.

His skin began to burst and eject, his body shook, his bones cracked and his blood popped, until he was once again in his white furred wolf form.

“We hide, in the shadows. We can do what we want as long as we keep from the eyes of the gods.”

“Our benefactor will not be pleased, though” Hati said, matter-of-factly, though Sköll could tell by his eyes that Hati was very excited and eager.

“Like I said, as long as we keep from the light of day.”

And so Sköll galloped, and for once Hati followed eagerly, leaving the wreckage behind as afternoon began.

***

Manuel woke up late in the morning. Sunlight had warmed his face the whole morning, and yet he only noticed it as it began to leave, half of his face already cast in shadow.

Jonathan still embracing him, and Manuel couldn't help but rejoice in that warmth. The pressure of his biceps made him slightly uncomfortable, however, so he turned around, greeted by a sleeping, handsome face. 

Both chests met, and Manuel pressed slightly, trying to feel Jonathan's heartbeat mix with his own. Alas, he was disappointed by finding out that their clothes prevented that from happening.

"You big goof" he muttered.

Carefully, Manuel untangled himself, worming himself until his nose met Jonathan's exposed belly. Blushing, he got out of bed hurriedly, carefully walking out of the bedroom.

Helen had left breakfast for both of them, a pile of pancakes and two mixed sandwiches, before she went off to work.  Manuel took a sandwich and a glass of water and sat on the couch. All breadcrumbs were gathered with a single drop.

He sat there, channel surfing, until he heard heavy footsteps. He cringed inwardly, hoping that they wouldn't wake up Jonathan.

“Did you sleep well?” said a voice that embodied fatigue, in spite of its owner having just woken up.

"Yup” Manuel said, his eyes narrowing.

"Good" Arthur mumbled, and walked over to the kitchen. 

He came back in a few minutes, bringing with him a tray with the remaining sandwich, five of the pancakes and a cup filled with orange juice. He sat down next to Manuel, who grumbled at the shifting sofa.

Soon after, another shift happened as Arthur realized something, which further annoyed Manuel.

"Oh, did you take anything for yourself?" he asked, genuinely worried.

Manuel extended a hand, showing the remaining crust.

"No need to be so rude" Arthur grumble, chomping on his own sandwich.

Up to that moment, Manuel had hid the water drop under the sofa, away from Arthur's sight. Bored as he was, he decided to carefully slid it on his pant fabric, letting it filter the crumbs without touching the man's skin. 

Part of him felt guilty for staining Arthur's pajamas, mostly because he knew he would make their already tense situation worse. Still, pulling off such a prank made his heart race, and he kept spreading the water.

Eventually, the drop reached up enough that Manuel ceased to be comfortable. By that point, it had been stretched thin anyway, leaving only itchy, dirty sandwich stains, quickly met by slow scratching.

"Ugh, I swear I got these clean yesterday" said Arthur, "Be right back, scooter."

Manuel rolled his eyes. The nerve of some people.

"Take your time" he said, trying to sound as unsuspicious as possible.

He could tell from Arthur's breathing that he failed at deceit. Still, he simply got off the couch and walked away. The sudden shift was enough to knock Manuel off balance, letting his face fall where Arthur was seated.

And where his heat and musk still marked the sofa.

Arthur regarded him with a mixture of confusion and disgust. Manuel was initially frozen by humiliation, then fear, but eventually calmed himself enough to conceive some mischief.

"You really should take a shower more often" he started, "if you even do that."

"Oh, I bath every hour" Arthur scoffed, "Pity that's not enough for pervert piggies like you."

Manuel simply smiled and winked lasciviously. Arthur ignored this, and kept walking away into the corridor, quickly followed by the sound of closing doors.

Manuel raised himself up. As he did, a small sting of pain flared from his shoulder.

Strange. Didn't hurt yesterday.

He walked over to the kitchen's counter and turned on the tap. 

Water flew not downwards but around Manuel in thick tendrils, until it reached the sore area. It bypassed the clothing by entering through numerous spaces like those between the buttons or the neck gap, wetting the shoulder quickly.

Water turned to ice, and the pain was gone once again.

But, as he let out a relieved sigh, Manuel noticed a glimmering by the kitchen’s window. Cautiously he went over to inspect it, leaving the tap still flowing just in case he needed more physical power. 

The glass in the windows refracted the light turbulently, as if it was underwater, casting small tidal rainbows on the counter. Manuel had never quite seen anything like that before, and assumed that it was probably magical in nature. 

Water flowed down from his shoulder to his right hand, concentrating around and covering it in a protective, rippling glove. More water floated around his arms, some already producing ice crescents.

Cautiously, he reached towards the light. 

As the hand approached the turbulence increased, as if his hand was moving through water and the ripples were invisible waves. 

Well, technically visible waves, since they're light and all, Manuel mused.

He retracted his hand cautiously, before reaching again, further. 

The turbulence increased and the light refracted into a psychedelic mishmash of colors, that expanded beyond the counter into the immediate wall and floor below and around it. 

For Manuel the dazzling display hurt to look at, yet he couldn’t deny that there was something inherently appealing about its disarray, about the chaotic way the colors mixed without turning to white. 

It stirred something within Manuel, and he couldn’t help but admire it. Soon, his eyes adjusted to something that he supposed should cause a seizure.

He then felt a compulsion to look outside, and reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the colors. 

He considered opening the window, but was afraid that the light refraction would be gone, so he simply peered through the glass. 

Before him was a sight he’d seen countless times: the old cypress tree, its shadows cast in his direction as it stood against the sunlight. Several rays passed through its branches, and Manuel was tempted to call Sól to ask her what the colors were. 

Certainly she couldn’t be missing this, since she was the Sun herself.

Then something caught his eye. 

Amidst the branches there was something. On the tree’s bark he could see some glimmers of light green, rippling through it like the colors were doing in the kitchen. 

A stump, that reminded Manuel of both a shield and a pie.

A round, smooth wood trimmed it, as if it was deliberately smoothed, and on its center laid a vaguely diamond-like depression.

Almost instinctively, Manuel decided to open the window, and was suddenly greeted by what felt like a pulse in the air. 

He felt overwhelmed by it, charged with an intense energy. Blood rushed through his veins like raging river water, his lungs breathed like hurricane winds and his nerves flashed like lightning bolts.

Even his stomach threatened to spill over, and he rushed towards the bathroom.

As he reached the door, however, he was beginning to get used to the energy. The suddenness had come and gone, his body began to attune itself with the pulse, his heart beating with its waves.

And so did his mind.

Rise to the heavens, the old woman's voice rang in his head, use this gift to heal yourself.

"Why don't you get a life you creeper?" Manuel hissed through his teeth.

"Wow, woke up on the wrong side of the bed much?"

Manuel turned around, seeing Jonathan, right behind him.

"S-sorry, I wasn't talking to you" Manuel said.

He whimpered. His embarrassment, like everything else, was boosted by the pulse.

"Manny, are you okay?" Jonathan asked.

"Not really" Manuel confessed.

His mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn't make him look like a nutcase. Or like I'm being possessed.

Your attachments to this realm need to go, the old woman's choice chided again, you'll have to let him go.

Manuel's eyes reddened with rage. The bathroom's taps and shower expelled currents of boiling water that quickly fogged the air, walls and mirror. Intimidated, Jonathan quickly jumped back.

"There's a voice inside my head!" Manuel blurted, "She's doing this to me."

Manuel looked aside. He couldn't bear seeing Jonathan freaked out by him, let alone how he'd react to what, as far as he knew, was a psychotic breakdown. Or possession.

A million scenarios of fear and rejection rushed through Manuel's mind, and his eyes began to expel boiling tears, falling on the bathroom tiles.

"I... know what it's like to have that" Jonathan confessed.

Manuel turned to Jonathan. The tap and shower flows immediately stopped, leaking only a few residual drops. The steam quickly converted itself into dew, sliding down and flooding the floor.

"What the hell is going on in here!?" Arthur shouted, marching in angrily.

"I, uh, found a problem in the plumbing" Manuel blurted out, "I tried to fix it, but it didn't go very well. Like, at all."

"Yeah, remember how the shower's always hot?" Jonathan said, "You know it's true!"

Arthur's response was to rub his temples so hard that Manuel thought he was going to scalp himself. Not that I mind, but could you at least turn aside or something?

"Just clean this goddamn mess."

***

"So" Manuel asked as he sat on the toilet, "You had this weird glow-thingy go into your mind and tell you I'm the Moon god and that you loved me?"

"Yup, that's pretty much it" Jonathan said, his back reclined against the door, "Oh, and a shadow voice too. Is, is she the one bothering you?"

"No, but she did nag me once yesterday" Manuel responded, "No, the one that's bothering me right now is a crazy cat lady I met yesterday. Right before you found me outside your house."

"Right" Jonathan nodded.

Through Manuel's water manipulation, the bathroom was dried up in a matter of minutes. Both boys kept up appearances by pretending to mop with wet towels and sponges, which, if anything, made things wet again.

Manuel took delight in that, a brief respite from the old woman's ramblings. Her voice was practically drowned out, only a droning buzz that matched the pulse rushing through Manuel's body.

"Is it true, though?" Jonathan started, "That you're the Moon god."

"Yup" Manuel said, "I just found out too. My sister's the Sun. Not Silvia, mind you, the actual Sun, which I met yesterday."

"That explains a lot" Jonathan said.

Jonathan looked down. He sighed, looking back at Manuel, with a resigned resolution.

"What?" Manuel asked.

"We gotta make you a god again. If the world's dying because you're not up there, we have to fix that."

"Right" Manuel said, "But what if, what if things change?"

"Yeah, that's the point" Jonathan snarked.

"No, I mean, what if I change? What if I stop being me? What if I don't remember my family, or care about them anymore?"

Manuel paused for a moment, suppressing a hiccup.

"What if I stop loving you?"

Jonathan tried to say something, but nothing came out. He pondered for a bit, the realization making him nervous.

"Well, uh, can't you ask the crazy cat lady?" he asked uncertainly.

Manuel tried to listen to her voice, but there was nothing. He closed his eyes and focused, but there was still nothing. The pulse remained, but she was no longer accompanying it.

"Damn it, she's gone!" Manuel barked, "Man, what a coward!"

"Alright, calm down" Jonathan said, "Dad's still here."

"But can you believe it!?" Manuel whispered a shout, "That crazy bitch was nagging me and now when I actually need her she's gone!"

"I know" Jonathan comforted, "Same thing with those jerks. They left me the moment I started asking things."

A realization quickly dawned on Jonathan.

"What if they're trying to cover something up?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Manuel asked back.

"Well, if they shut up the moment something important comes up, it means they have something to hide."

"But if they don't want us to know something, wouldn't they erase our minds or something?" Manuel pondered, "I mean, they are gods and all."

"Maybe they can't do that" Jonathan suggested, "Or maybe they want us to figure something out on our own. It's basically a cliché, after all."

"True" Manuel conceded.

He thought about Sól, about how truthful and warm she was, how she told him he could ask her for anything. No, she isn't lying to me. 

But, then again, she wasn't the only god he had met. Maybe the other gods had agendas of their own, or something to gain from those circumstances.

"We have to ask my sister" Manuel concluded.

"Which of them?" Jonathan asked.