Fighting Fire With Fire

“The Red King raised his sword against all those who were his enemy. Their bodies he twisted into unnatural forms. Their minds were torn apart by all he forced them to see.”

-from ‘Fourth Song: Reign of the Red King’

Several days passed without Sid showing up to work. Aymon was annoyed the first time it happened, but he was furious by the fourth. Halen had advised him to let Sid come back on his own terms, but that didn't seem to be happening any time soon. He had even gotten Hernan to come back from his vacation to bother Sid to come to work, but that hadn’t helped either.

On the most recent day of Sid's non-appearance, Aymon cornered Yan as she was about to leave. They were in his office, and Kino had left already. Halen had stepped out to deal with some minor issue involving security, so Aymon was able to grab Yan alone. She looked resigned as Aymon told her to stay. Halen had mentioned that Aymon should spend more time alone with each of his apprentices, so this was accomplishing two goals in one shot. They were both standing near the door.

"Yan, I won't keep you for long, but do you have any idea what's going on with Sid?" Although Aymon was furious, he tried not to take his anger out on Yan, who hadn't done anything wrong, aside from not forcing Sid to come to work.

"He's just avoiding you," Yan said. "I don't know why. Halen said he'll snap out of it."

"Have you tried to talk to him about it? You two are close."

"I've tried, but as soon as I bring anything up, he kicks me out," Yan said. She scuffed her foot on the carpeted floor. “I think he’s mad at me.”

"I need him to come to see me," Aymon said. "Would you be willing to get him to come?"

"I don't know how effective I'd be," Yan said. "I can tell him that you need to talk to him, but I'm sure he already knows that."

"He certainly does. Is there something you can hold over him?"

Yan shrugged. "Maybe if I started ignoring him he'd get over it, but that would take a long time."

"That doesn't seem like it would be effective. Can you just…" Aymon rubbed his forehead. "Just yell at him or something. I don't want to have to march down there, or have him dragged out, but I will if I have to. Threaten him with that, ok?"

"Sure. I'll let you know how it goes." Yan tried to dodge out the door.

"Are you doing alright, Yan?" Aymon asked. She had seemed fine, or as fine as could be expected, during the times that they had spent together. She and Kino had come along to his meetings and trained with Halen just as they had before the trip. Yan performed fine there, but he wanted to make sure.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she said in the most non-committal tone, and slipped away down the hallway. Well, if she wasn't fine, it wasn't impacting her work any, so Aymon would leave her to it.

He waited the rest of the afternoon for Yan to report back. He didn't spend the time sitting around; he had plenty of pressing issues to keep him busy. Not least of all, Aymon was still following the news out of both Jenjin and Olar, to see what the fallout from their visits would be. The issue on Olar seemed to be mostly resolved, except for the lingering presence of pirates in the area. Could there be a black station somewhere near there? Perhaps there should be a further survey of the area.

Apparently, though the Olar issue was resolved, Vaneik was still feeling the backlash from his string of unpopular decisions. There wasn't any movement to oust him as the head of the guild, but Aymon was receiving reports that he was under significant pressure from his captains. The position of Guildmaster required him to toe the line, and Vaneik had apparently overstepped his bounds. A pity that Aymon had been the cause of it, but such things couldn't be helped.

There was always trouble brewing somewhere in the Empire. That was the nature of heading a vast conglomeration of planets, most of which were only out for themselves.

The rest of the day passed without hearing back from Yan. She finally texted him after dinner, giving him an update on Sid.

< Sid was gone until just a few minutes ago. I told him to text you- did he? Or should I yell at him

> I haven't heard anything from him. pls tell him to come see me.

> thx Yan.

A few minutes later, Yan texted back.

< He says he won't come. Want me to try to force him physically or?

> no, I'll come to him.

< ok? should I tell him that you're coming?

> let it be a surprise.

It wasn't a long drive to the apartment where the three apprentices lived. Aymon was accompanied by Halen, as usual, but in the car they discussed whether Halen should actually come in to Sid's apartment. In the end, they decided it would be better if Aymon went alone.

The car parked on the street, and Aymon and Halen got out. They were let in and went upstairs without any trouble by the guard in the front office. Aymon rarely had reason to go visiting. Most of the time his audience came to him. This was a unique opportunity to see how his apprentices lived. Or at least how Sid lived. He had neither a reason nor the desire to intrude upon Yan and Kino's apartments, despite them being directly next door.

"Which one is his?" Aymon asked Halen. Halen pointed to one of the doors. "He's home, right?"

"Of course. But I'll check again," Halen said. He performed his usual power sweep of the area, making sure that nothing was afoot.

"Do you know if he'd even be able to tell if I rang the bell?" Aymon asked, fingers hovering over the doorbell. Knocking certainly wouldn't do the trick.

"Don't know. But he's angry," Halen warned. "Be careful, ok?"

"What, you think he's going to do something crazy?" Aymon asked. He rang the doorbell.

"I think that you are liable to do something crazy," Halen said. He leaned against the wall next to the door, looking at Aymon. "He's deeply hurt, among other things. You might try compassion before you try anger."

"I'll consider it." There had been no response from within the room from the ringing of the doorbell. Aymon stretched out his power, reaching into the apartment and seeking out Sid. He let Sid know that he was there with a mental prod. He wasn't gentle about it, so it probably felt more like being jabbed with a fork than being softly touched. He was not considering Halen's advice.

There was still absolutely no response from within the apartment, but now there was no excuse of not being able to hear the doorbell. It was the continuing, deliberate avoidance, and it infuriated Aymon.

"Can you open this door?" Aymon asked.

Halen sighed, and Aymon stepped aside to allow Halen to key in some sort of elaborate security code to the door, reading the pass code off of his phone. The lock of the door clicked, and Aymon pushed the door open and headed inside. He left Halen standing in the hallway, ready if he needed him. The door closed behind him.

The apartment was dark. The place was haphazard looking. It was as though someone who kept a deliberately tidy place had decided in a fit of rage to dirty it up, but had not actually managed to do so. The couch in the living room was shoved against the wall and tipped over, there was a pile of broken glass (a plate?) on the floor of the kitchen area, every appliance seemed to be unplugged, and every cupboard door was open. On the coffee table in the living room, pages had been ripped out of a sketchbook and lay scattered around. Some were shredded or scribbled out. The curtains were drawn over the windows. The place smelled stale, as though the central air had been turned off for several days.

Aymon walked further into the apartment, coming to the bedroom where he thought Sid was. He pushed the door open. Something sailed at Aymon's head and he ducked just in time. His reflexes had been honed over the years by the ever present danger of being Voice, so Sid's power propelled shoe posed no threat. It hit the door behind him with a thump, then fell to the floor.

Sid was laying on the bed, naked except for his underwear. He was facedown, with his head buried in his pillow and all of the blankets kicked onto the floor. He probably had felt the gust of air stirred up by Aymon opening the door, which allowed him to throw the shoe.

One thing caught Aymon's eye; a snapped pair of glasses sat on Sid's bedside table, the bridge completely destroyed, the two eyepieces disconnected. One of the eyes was shattered. He sighed. This would make things more difficult if Sid didn't have a spare pair. Aymon only knew the most rudimentary of sign: fingerspelling, simple directions that were required to be certified for spacewalks, and hello and goodbye. He was not going to be able to hold any conversation with Sid if Sid couldn't hear him. Perhaps that was the reason why Sid had snapped his glasses in the first place.

More likely, though, Sid was just angry and was taking out his anger on anything and everything. He had run out of Vena, and was withdrawing from it. It couldn't be helped. Still, this was all completely unacceptable behavior, and Aymon needed to teach him a lesson. That was his job as the mentor to his three apprentices. It was part of his duties, and he took it very seriously.

Aymon reached out in the power, focusing and gripping it with all the strength that he possessed. This would take some doing. He grabbed Sid's body. The power bucked and fought against him. As always, it was unwilling to physically touch another. But unwilling was not the same as unable. Aymon used the power to force Sid to sit upright.

Sid did not take this laying down. As soon as he realized what was happening, he first attempted to fight the attack off and free himself, but he did not succeed. Then he turned to retaliation. He first attempted to seize control of Aymon's body as Aymon grabbed his, but Sid was not practiced enough, and Aymon's muscles barely twitched. Sid finally tried what he could control. He took objects lying about the room and threw them at Aymon. First the shoes again, then the contents of his desk drawers, then the drawers themselves, the chair, the discarded bedsheets, the coat hangers from the closet- it all came tumbling out at Aymon in a torrent.

In order to stop himself from being hit, Aymon was forced to rapidly alternate his attentions within the power, stopping every attack and then returning to forcing Sid's body to sit up straight. Every time he loosened his grip on Sid, Sid flung himself back down. Then Aymon had to start everything over, until he was finally interrupted by Sid strangling him with his own shirt.

That was enough. Sid couldn't win this battle, but Aymon had no more interest in prolonging the torture. It was a kind of torture, he knew, for a person's own body to be controlled and manipulated roughly by another. Still, he needed to teach Sid a lesson. He let go of Sid, who collapsed to the bed for the last time, sweating profusely from the exertion of fighting against Aymon.

Aymon walked over and grabbed his arm, physically this time. He pulled Sid up. There was no struggle now. Either Sid was spent, or he considered that he had won the game by making Aymon abandon using the power to force him up. They glared at each other.

Of course, there was no way for them to talk. Sid's glasses were shattered on the bedside table. Aymon pointed at them. Sid shrugged. Even in the darkness of the bedroom he looked smug.

"C-a-n y-o-u f-i-x?" Aymon fingerspelled. Sid shook his head.

"W-e n-e-e-d t-a-l-k," Aymon spelled. Sid shook his head again. He started to flop back down onto the bed, but Aymon grabbed his arm, hard enough to bruise, and held him upright. He glared at Sid, looking directly into his eyes. Sid shrugged again, this time trying unsuccessfully to loosen Aymon's vice like grip on his arm. Aymon let him struggle for a second, but didn't let go. Sid gave up after a few seconds, resigned to being held like a child. He was behaving like one, so he deserved the treatment it got him.

With his free hand, Aymon reached out and tapped Sid's forehead, causing him to flinch back again.

"N-o-w," he fingerspelled with that free hand. He released Sid's arm, and Sid tried to turn away. Aymon caught him with the power that time, yanking his head back to look at him. "N-o-w," he reiterated.

Aymon let Sid go, and this time Sid didn't turn away. Perhaps he had finally learned his lesson. He sat there, passively waiting for whatever Aymon would do next. Slowly, Aymon released his grip on Sid's upper arm. The skin where he had been grabbing him was completely drained of blood, and Aymon's fingernails had dug little divots.

They stared at each other unmoving for a few long seconds, both angry. Was it fair that Aymon was using Sid as a punching bag? No, probably not. But was it necessary to get Sid to see sense? It was the easiest way. Finally, Aymon raised his hands. Sid flinched back, but Aymon made no move to strike him. He knew what Sid's preferred method of synching up for meditation was, and that would be the easiest way for them to communicate. He certainly wasn't going to have Halen or, God forbid, Yan come in to translate for them.

Cautiously, Sid also raised his hands, pressing his palms against Aymon's. In the dim light, Aymon noticed- well, he would have a better way to investigate in a second. Without taking his hands off of Sid's, Aymon used the power to summon over the toppled desk chair, and set it right next to Sid's bed. He sat, continuing to make eye contact.

They began to clap. Right hands reach out, clap together, clap alone, left hands reach out, clap together, clap alone. They repeated it over and over, closing their eyes. It took a while for them to fall into the trance together. They each needed to let their anger dissipate before they could focus entirely on the repetitive clapping of the hands.

As always, meditating with someone new was a completely different experience. This was nothing like the feeling of meditating with Kino, or with Yan. There was a momentary mutual amusement as they both had the same thought- though their meditations with Yan had completely different tenors from each other, that was a thread that they shared.

Sid's mind was a raw, unguarded mess. Part of it was the sudden lack of Vena. It had been a crutch which had been dulling his thoughts and preventing him from feeling too badly. Now it was gone, and there was little hope of him getting more. He was forced to recon with the nightmares, the guilt, and the fear. There was a mask of anger over everything in Sid's mind, but when that was brushed aside, there was nothing left but a string of half formed, chaotic images of destruction, and a deep, sickening horror that felt like a physical punch to the gut.

Perhaps it was the physical symptoms of withdrawal that were contributing to Sid's general mess. Aymon could distantly feel his own body breaking out into the same cold sweat that covered Sid, and his stomach churned. Their breathing synced, but it was ragged. They were both clapping harder than was necessary, and so they let their hands slow down and stop, dropping onto their laps. The sting of it still rang in their palms even after they had finished.

Here they could commune, think, and understand each other.

"Why haven't you been coming?" Aymon asked, sending the thought out like a runaway truck.

Sid's internal voice was muddled and layered with emotion. If a thought could feel like it was rising up through layers of mud, these would be the thoughts. Sid recounted the emotions that he had gone through that had led to his prolonged absence. On the first day, he truly had been tired and had simply slept. Then he felt abandoned by Yan, which made him angry at her. He took the last of his Vena, which kept him out. Then it was a spiral. Too guilty feeling to repent for not coming in, too sick still to feel ready, too angry at Yan for abandoning him, again and again the feelings burned like wave after wave of fire- and through it all the haze of self destruction that he had been feeding from the very beginning.

Aymon seized on that feeling, the self hatred, brought it wriggling into the light. It brought with it a physical ache: the desire to smash his head into something hard, felt deep within his foreheads; the desire to scratch and claw and bite his own arms, a horrible itch; the desire to tear himself completely asunder, as if casting his limbs to the corners of the universe would free him. To jump out of one's skin, to be a completely blank mind, to feel punishment… All of it, and more, all tangled up in knots inside his bones, just begging to be released.

The harshest rolling heat of the feeling passed over them both, and they came out on the other side, still choking on it, but less acutely. Sid let it happen, not bothering to try to stop Aymon from poking around and directing their thoughts. Sid had no interest in reaching back into Aymon's mind. Just as he had let all the feelings overwhelm him, Sid was ready to let this conversation take its course with as little of his own input as possible. This understanding almost jolted Aymon out of the shared space, but he held on, gripping tightly even if Sid wasn't willing to.

They needed to talk, even if it hurt. After all, that was what he des- no, that wasn't right. Aymon halted that thought.

"You need to come to work," Aymon sent.

Sid's stubbornness rose up within him, and he rejected the idea.

"You don't have a choice."

Sid still didn't budge on the issue.

"It won't help you to stay like this."

An exhilarating rush, sweeping them both up in the tide. Of course it wouldn't help him to stay like this! Hiding in the dark made it worse, and that's why he was here, burrowing into the mud like a worm!

Aymon clamped down hard. Sid would not be able to get away that easily.

"You only feel abandoned because you're hiding. Yan wants you to come back."

Sid jerked away at the thought, sending images of a frustrated Yan kicking him out of her room, Yan telling him to come to work or else, Yan, Yan, Yan. Yan the perfect, who was doing so much better than he was. Yan who could say the words of prayers and mean them. Yan who was selfless and generous and always knew what to do.

"If you're angry at her, you can work that out with her later. I am ordering you to come back to work."

Or what? Or what? Or what? What was the consequence? What could Aymon do that was worse than-

"If you can't pull yourself together, you'll be out. I'll be done with you."

There was a moment of mental silence as Aymon's resolve and anger came together to deliver the ultimatum to Sid. Sid didn't respond. Sid's fears came rushing back up, the fear of being abandoned again, stronger now, and the tendrils of his mind clung to Aymon's consciousness.

"Come to work tomorrow, or don't ever come again."

Sid tried to hold on, but Aymon ripped himself free of the shared meditation. He opened his eyes to the darkness of the bedroom. Sid's hands clenched at his sides, his eyes still closed, face crushed, crumbling. Aymon stood up and left.

Outside in the hallway, Halen and Yan were talking. It was nice to see them getting along, at least. Kino was nowhere to be seen, but that was anything but unexpected. Yan had probably felt the commotion in the power and came out to investigate. She looked at Aymon curiously as he came out.

"Done here?" Halen asked.

"I am. Have a nice night, Yan," Aymon said.

"Is, uh, everything alright?" Yan asked as Aymon and Halen started to walk back down the hall. She tagged behind them for a few steps. Aymon smiled at her tenacity.

"We'll have to see about that," Aymon said. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Yeah, ok, goodnight." She sounded lost, but stopped following them.

Aymon turned back to look at her as they reached the elevator at the end of the hallway. Yan was standing forlornly outside Sid's door, hand raised to press the doorbell, but as the elevator dinged its presence, she let it drop and headed back to her own room. Aymon and Halen took the elevator down and left, going home for the night.