Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time was Essek's speciality. He was able to see the strings of possibility better than most, only outmatched by Umavi such as his mother and the queen.

Which was why he immediately knew something was wrong the morning he was to be executed.

Just the day before, everything had been normal. At least, as normal as one could expect, seeing the love his life for the last time. It had been hard fought, but he eventually managed to convince Caleb that there was no point to try and rescue him. His mistakes had finally caught up to him, and he did not want Caleb to endanger his own life in a vain attempt to spare him.

Caleb had eventually relented, and it had pained Essek to see the building grief. But it was for the best.

Waking up in his dark cell, tight chains keeping his hands bound and a silencing collar around his neck, he immediately noticed the threads of possibility quivering around him. It was almost blinding, deafening, as these echoes reverberated around him. He swore he could see, hear, smell Caleb, a whole host of conflicting emotions bombarding him from every angle. It made him breathless, his head immediately beginning to ache as he tried to see through all the threads of possibility.

He had never experienced anything like this before. It was as if the barriers between timelines were thinning, the dozens of different ways Caleb might have tried to save him.

Essek breathed heavily through his nose as he experienced each of these possibilities simultaneously in the periphery of his awareness. From the sounds of pain and scent of blood, they were not all successful, if any were. His chest was aching with the confluence of emotions, and he was certain it was going to burst at any moment.

And he could do nothing but sit there and suffer through them.

As the time passed, as Essek was moved from his cell to a holding area, the threads of possibility got even more numerous. There were even more possible attempts by Caleb to get him out, the human's peripheral voice and scent coalescing so strongly it was almost as if he actually was right here, actively trying to save him.

The ache in Essek's chest turned into a sharp pain, hardly able to breathe. The air was thick with dunamis, and he was wracking his mind to understand what was happening. Why today? Why this? Why Caleb?

There was grief, both Caleb's and his own as he saw a multitude of deaths. There was joy and incredulity, impossible freedom immediately in front of them with so many more possibilities ripe for the taking. Everything, good and bad, simultaneously. A superposition of dozens - no, hundreds - of other timelines.

He hardly noticed when he was grabbed by his arms and dragged out of the holding cell. In fact, the echoing threads got even denser around him. He could almost taste Caleb's cumulative desperation from all of the threads. Hot tears were freely running down Essek's face, the heat quickly turning to coolness as the tracks left behind began to evaporate.

Smooth marble gave way to the cobblestone of the streets. He could taste and smell iron, hundreds of brief echoes of Caleb's mutilated body, unseeing eyes, burnt and incinerated corpses were dancing in his periphery.

He didn't want his life to end like this, surrounded by countless iterations of his worst nightmares. He was struggling to breathe, just waiting for one of these threads to coalesce and become reality.

Caleb, please, stop...

As it came closer to the moment of truth, the variance in the different timelines began to wane. There were still just as many, but the different echoes of Caleb were beginning to come together. There were fewer corpses, less desperation. Instead, it gave way to defeat. Echoes and flashes of Caleb were appearing before him, his shoulders slumped in defeat and his eyes sunken and haunted. There was a final embrace before the guards yanked them apart. Similar yet disparate echoes of Caleb fighting them like a wild animal, screaming and sobbing wordlessly, his eyes locked on Essek.

Essek was abruptly brought back to the present, to this timeline, as the collar was momentarily disabled. The guard had cold expression as he sneered at him. "Any last words, traitor?"

He took stock of his last moments. He was on a platform, surrounded by four spellcasters who all had lodestones and dust at the ready. A large crowd was watching, waiting for their pound of flesh from the man who had stolen holy relics and caused the death of thousands of lives.

Essek wordlessly shook his head. He had accepted this fate long ago.

The guard stepped away, and Essek held his head up high. There were still echoes of Caleb trying to save him, being killed in the process, and it was taking all of what was left of his composure to ignore them, still praying that none of them would become this reality.

Time seemed to slow. There was a brief countdown before the casters began to move simultaneously. They were all muttering the arcane word, their fingers sprinkling the dust and pulling the lodestone up as they raised their arms. Just as the sickly green energy built up at the ends of the fingers...

The echoes all came to a single moment. And with a slight displacement of air, Caleb appeared before him.

Time almost came to a stop, horror causing bile to flood Essek's mouth. In this fateful single moment, Caleb had come. Not to shield Essek, but to join him in his fate.

But there was something in Caleb's eyes. Or, no, there was nothing in his eyes. They were empty, void, devastated in a way Essek had never seen before. Tears were streaming soundlessly down his face as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Essek for a final embrace.

"Five hundred and forty-four."

It was a broken whisper, barely audible even with Caleb's lips pressed to his ear. It was a horrible sound that wracked through Essek's heart. And it was with sudden clarity that he understood the thousands of echoes and timelines that had been resonating around him all day.

Without another thought and driven by an innate instinct to protect, Essek spoke just as the disintegrating magic sprang from the casters' fingers.

"Alora valenta."

There was no destination in mind, but the magic immediately yanked them from the space. There was a moment where they could not draw breath before pain exploded through Essek's body. He immediately recognized it as apparating into a solid form before the magic shunted them out. Another breathless moment later, they appeared somewhere dark, cool air rushing across their skin as they both collapsed bonelessly into damp grass and earth.

And for the first time that day, there were no more echoes.

It had been on the three hundred and sixty-fifth day that Caleb broke.

It had been truly arbitrary, but the fact that Caleb had been living this hell for an entire year, having been killed or forced to watch Essek's body be rendered to dust three hundred and sixty-five times... It broke him. All he wanted now was for it to end.

Upon waking on the three hundred and sixty-sixth day, Caleb grabbed his own lodestone and aimed it in his own mouth...

... only to wake up on the three hundred and sixty-seventh day.

When he had broken as a young man, he had not been fully aware of himself or his surroundings. For as keen as his mind was, those eleven years were an amorphous blur to him.

That is not what happened this time. He was still painfully aware of every passing second, minute, hour. Essek's execution was always just hours, minutes, seconds away, and even if he avoided it entirely, he could not escape the knowledge that Essek was being destroyed. And he would be destroyed again the following day.

All of his intellect and his power, and there was no escape.

Reason left him. He still made efforts to change the inevitable, but they were feral attempts, usually resulting in his own death. It was difficult to choose which was worse: being killed only to immediate wake up again, or having to watch Essek be reduced to dust.

It was after the four hundred and sixteenth day that he gave up, any semblance of self or impetus having been thoroughly ground down into dust. When he woke up the following day, he stared at the ceiling and began to count the seconds to Essek's execution.

It took a few days to find the precise number when there was no interference on his part. It was on the four hundred and twenty-first day that he found that it happens precisely twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds after waking up.

And so, every day since, twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds after opening his eyes, he would teleport to Essek. He would take in the expression of shock that quickly turns into despair, and he would embrace Essek just in time for them to both turn to ash.

And then he would begin counting once more.

The five hundred and forty-forth day was no different. That was, until Essek murmured familiar arcane words.

The pain of the temporary mishap was nothing compared to the shock to his system as his long established routine had been ripped out from underneath him. When he was finally able to breathe just three seconds later, his stomach lurched and he found himself heaving and retching, only sour bile dribbling out of his mouth into the wet grass.

It had been five hundred and forty-five days since he had last eaten.

Even though he was not walking up in his bed, in his mind, he continued to count. Eins... zwei... drei... vier...

"Caleb...! Caleb!"

Caleb flinched and coughed, twisting his body to see Essek kneeling right by his side. His arms were still manacled behind him, but his eyes were wide as he focused intently on Caleb's face.

Caleb opened his mouth to respond but only managed to stutter out, "N-Neun... zh-zehn... elf... z-z-zwolf..."

Essek cursed underneath his breath, looking over his shoulder at his current predicament. Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a few muttered words, there was a loud knock, making Caleb flinch once more. There was the clinking of chains as Essek's manacles opened up and fell to the ground. Essek spent less than two seconds rubbing his wrists before surging forward and grabbing Caleb by the shoulders. "My gods, Caleb, what did you do?"

Einundzwangzig got stuck in Caleb's throat at the hint of condemnation in Essek's voice. It was like a rapier straight through his chest and heart. The answer was everything, and yet it still felt like a wholly inadequate answer.

This was all too much, and so he went back to focus on counting in his head. Funfundzwanzig... sechsundzwanzig... It was reliable. At least, it had been for the last one hundred and twenty-three days.

But then the warm hands left Caleb's shoulders, and with a wave of sudden panic, Caleb's hands shot out to grasp Essek's wrists. "Nein! Nein nein nein..." he whimpered, his eyes fixated on the thin purple limbs clenched tightly in his hands. They were shaking... He was shaking.

"Caleb, I'm right here, I'm right here..."

A sob bubbled out of Caleb's throat as he pulled the hands closer to press his face to them. He couldn't think, he couldn't function. All he could do was cling... and count.

Dreiunddreissig... vierunddreissig... funfunddreissig...

Chapter Text

Essek was completely at a loss. He had so many questions, and the only person who could answer them was currently incapable of complicated speech.

Caleb was quietly sobbing against Essek's hands, his body shaking violently. Essek stared down at the dark red hair, leaning in to press his lips to the top of Caleb's head. "I'm right here, I'm right here..." he continued to whisper, trying to get Caleb grounded.

Meanwhile, he was wracking his brain, trying to piece together what had happened. He was still reeling from the fact that he was alive, had managed to escape and regain his freedom. But what he was more concerned about was the thickness of the dunamis earlier. It had to have been some sort of time-based arcane disturbance.

Had Caleb gone back to their old research after his execution, finally completing the spell to go back in time? No. If Calen had resisted the temptation for the sake of his own parents, he would not have faltered for him, especially when he had explicitly told Caleb to let him go.

So what what had happened?

"Five hundred and forty-four."

Was that how many echoes he saw? Hundreds of attempts to free him, and none of them prevailing?

More bile flooded Essek's mouth. They had not just been other threads of possibility but repeated lived experiences forced upon Caleb. A time loop of such power that exceeded some of Essek's greatest machinations.

Caleb was still crying into Essek's hands, shaking as hard as some of their more unfortunate encounters in Aeor. The air above them was warm, but a cooling mist was forming around them, the wet grass beginning to soak into their clothes.

"Caleb..." Essek said softly, trying to grab his attention. He wanted to cradle the human's face, wipe the tears away, but he did not have the will to pull his hands free of Caleb's grasp. "We need to figure out where we are and what we do next."

There was a hitch in Caleb's breath, and his sobs seemed to calm a bit, but he made no move to let go or sit up. The only verbal response Essek received was the even and soft whispers of Zemnian counting.

Essek let out a shuddered sigh, his own eyes burning with tears as he pressed his cheek to the top of Caleb's head, breathing in his natural musk. It was a scent he was certain he would never experience again. Now he was here, huddled with his lover after being snatched from the jaws of death. His lover who had been rendered to a quivering inconsolable mess.

Overwhelmed but keenly aware that he needed to take control of the situation, Essek raised his head to look around and make sure they were alone.

They certainly weren't anywhere in Xhorhas. In his moment of panic, all Essek could think was to get Caleb home. Which meant they were likely somewhere in the Dwendalian Empire. Possibly close to Rexxentrum.

It had been almost midday in Rosohna, which meant dawn would be coming soon. They might have escaped the Dynasty, but Essek was still a wanted man here as well.

Essek gave an experimental tug, but Caleb's hands were still like an iron vice. "Caleb, love, I'm still not entire sure what's happened, but we need to get somewhere safe. Can you summon the tower?"

Caleb's breathing hitched, and he finally raised his head to look up at Essek. Even in the dark, Essek could see that his eyes were blood shot, his skin blotchy and flush. His lips were just barely moving, still counting underneath his breath. He was looking straight through Essek, both intent on his face but also not quite there, dissociating.

Essek leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Caleb, please..." he whispered, pressing their cheeks together. "Help me help you, we just need to get somewhere safe..."

The counting briefly paused, a shudder running through Caleb's body. He leaned up more heavily against Essek, lips brushing up against his ear. "E... Essek?" he breathed incredulously, almost a whimper.

"Yes love, I'm right here," Essek whispered back quickly, fearful that Caleb would slip away from him again. "Can you cast the tower?"

Caleb's grip impossibly tightened around his wrists for a moment, and Essek had to suppress a wince of pain. But then he finally relinquished Essek, pulling back from the half-embrace. His shaking got worse, but he reached up and managed to free his spellbook. As he flipped through the pages, his fingers were pressing unnecessarily hard against the book, as if it would steady them. If it had been regular paper, he would have ripped right through it.

Essek's heart was in his throat as he reached over and gently wrapped his hands around Caleb's wrists. "It's okay, I can help..."

He spent a moment just rubbing his thumbs against Caleb's skin, which was colder than usual. Then, doubly determined to get them into safety and warmth, Essek reached into Caleb's coat to pull out the spell's components as Caleb continued to shakily turn the pages of his book. He set them out in front of Caleb, jamming the wand into the soft earth. Then he quickly moved over to sit by Caleb's side, wrapping an arm around his back and rubbing his arm to try and warm him up. He was encouraged and relieved as he heard Caleb begin to recite the arcane words, trembling fingers tracing the necessarily patterns through the air.

The moment the doorway apparated, Essek grabbed Caleb by the scruff - using his graviturgy skills to make him lighter - and dragged him inside. It was only once the door closed behind them that he felt they were truly safe.

Without thinking about it, Essek let go of Caleb as he looked around to regain his bearings. He instantly regretted it, a ruined noise escaping Caleb's throat as he collapsed to his knees. His spellbook fell limply from his hands, and he just stared down at it as he began to hyperventilate, each exhale a terrified whimper.

"Caleb! Caleb..." Essek got down on his knees, cradling Caleb's head and angling it so he could look at him. "Are you with me?"

It was a pointless question. It was immediately obvious that he had already dissociated again. He was blinking rapidly as he struggled to catch a proper breath. At least this time, Essek was not trapped, so he immediately pulled Caleb into a tight hug. "I-Ich bin genau hier, mein herz..." Essek muttered into his ear, fumbling over his rudimentary Zemnian.

That seemed to do the trick, Caleb's breathing hitching. He audibly swallowed as he reached up and returned the hug with equal fervor. "Essek... Essek... Essek...!"

His voice was a broken harsh whisper, and the sound of it was the final straw. Essek's body began to shake as hot tears began to fall over, mingling with Caleb's auburn hair. He had a hand on the back of Caleb's head, Caleb's face pressed hard against Essek's neck as he continued to repeat his name like a prayer.

Something inside of Caleb had been broken, and Essek felt a horrible weight at the knowledge that he had not been there when it had happened. Not in any meaningful way. And in this moment, Essek felt powerless to help him, to even try and put together what pieces remained.

As he allowed himself to feel this impotency, to cry and grieve the loss of something he did not fully understand, he continued to whisper to Caleb with his broken Zemnian and allow Caleb to rock them back and forth in their crushing embrace.

There was some distant part of Caleb that acknowledged that his body had base needs that he should be addressing. But he was mostly disconnected from his body, and the brief flashes of awareness were filled with just Essek.

Was this real? He still wasn't certain. Perhaps it was just a day dream - a particularly vivid one - as he counted to twelve thousand and sixty-five to once again die with Essek.

"Caleb... Caleb, mein herz, are you hearing me?"

It was the warmth of Essek's breath over his ear that briefly brought Caleb into the moment. Essek's voice sounded oddly wet and strained. He registered that the words were a question, but their meaning escaped him. He recognized mein herz as Essek's preferred moniker, and he found himself leaning into those two words. Words that he was never going to hear again... right?

There was more warmth as Essek sighed, the hand on the back of his head a comforting weight, especially when the fingers began to gently message his scalp.

For now, there were no more tears, although he kept his face pressed up against Essek's neck, breathing in his scent. He felt as if he was floating. It was not necessarily a good thing. He has spent a lot of the last hundred and twenty-eight days just floating. There was only the wait to see Essek one last time... again... and again... and again...

He was still counting. Siebentausendzweihundretvierunddreissig... siebentausendzweihundertfunfunddreissig... Waiting. Just waiting to die again.

"Caleb?"

He flinched, once again brought back. His chest clenched in re-realization. "Essek...?" he whispered.

"Yes, yes, I'm right here... genau hier..."

Caleb swallowed, suddenly very aware of how dry and scratchy his throat was. His face was aching as well. In fact his entire body was aching, his muscles tense as he continued to hold Essek tightly. They were trembling and twitching as well, adding an extra layer of bodily misery. He also felt oddly cold. Somehow, it felt unrelated to the trembling. His heart was pounding loudly and fast, as if he had just been running for his life.

Without moving, he looked up through his hair to see the stained glass windows of his tower.

When had he cast it?

"Caleb, are you with me now?" Essek was rubbing his back. "I want to get you to a fireplace, someplace warm..."

There was a spark of panic, imagining himself being dropped off and left behind. He quickly shook his head, digging his fingers more tightly into Essek's sides.

"Caleb, please..." The hand on his head pressed more heavily, more possessively. "I'm worried about your physical wellbeing. I do not know the particulars, but you are not entirely well right now..."

Caleb almost laughed at that. Had he ever been entirely well? There was stretches of time in his life where he was, perhaps, more well than others. With certainty, he has not been well since this hell began five hundred and forty-four (forty-five?) days ago. 

He felt Essek move his head, Caleb's ear almost instantly going cold with the absence of his warm breath. Essek readjusted his grip on Caleb before muttering, "Up."

Caleb let out a noise of surprise as he was jolted upward. It was just Essek's body moving with the magic, but Essek was making sure to drag him along with him. 

He was starting to fade again, watching the slowly passing floors. There was still a very good chance that this was just a day dream. It was a much more pleasant way to pass the time. Paint these images on the ceiling with his mind as he counted and waited. He simply needed to pull out once he reached twelve thousand and sixty-five. 

Siebentausendachthundertachtundvierzig... siebentausendachthundertneunundvierzig...

Essek pulled the two of them toward the Salon. Once they were no longer in the central column, gravity took over once again. At least, mostly took over. Wordlessly, Essek had cast his usual spell to make them hover. It was an odd sensation, one Caleb had not experienced before. Still clinging to Essek, he could feel the pull of gravity at the core of his body, but his legs dangled freely beneath him. 

He was tempted to wrap his legs around Essek as well, but he was exhausted. All of his energy reserves had already been devoted to making sure Essek did not leave him. 

There was an aura of warmth as Essek settled them down by the fireplace. Caleb could feel it, although it did not penetrate the bone deep cold that had settled into his flesh. 

It was at this point that Essek gently tried to pull away. "Caleb, I need to-"

"Nein! N-No..." His breathing began to come in short pants. "B-Bitte, bitte...!"

But Essek continued to pull away, and the moment Caleb's arms gave just an inch, the tension in his muscles broke and his arms fell bonelessly to his sides, a fresh fiery pain extending down from his shoulders to the tips of his fingers. 

A sobbing whimper escaped Caleb as he collapsed in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut in denial. This was the end of the dream, end of this little bit of escapism. 

Achttausendzweihundertfunf... achttausendzweihundertsechs...

But then the warm hands were on his face again. "Caleb, look at me."

It was a soft but firm order. A voice Essek would often use when they were in the throes of passion. Caleb instantly complied, blinking a few times to clear the fresh tears. Essek's face was just inches form his own, his expression serious and mixed with concern. Similar to when he thought he had taken a scene too far. 

It was never too far. Caleb could always take it.

Essek kept one hand on Caleb's jaw while he used his other to brush back some of Caleb's hair. When he spoke, it was deliberate and even. "Caleb. Love. I think you're in shock. We need to take care of this so you don't shut down and die in my arms. Do you understand?"

He did. At least, he thought he did. He wanted to submit to Essek and comply to anything he commanded, but he was also certain that if Essek moved away from him, he would fade away and Caleb would be alone in the bed once more. 

"Ich..." Caleb swallowed hard, trying to wet his throat. It was pointless, his voice coming out as a harsh croak. "I.. d-don't w-w-want this dr... d-dream to end..."

Essek's expression twisted in pain. "This is not a dream, mein herz. I will return in less than a minute."

Then the hands were gone as Essek floated away. Caleb immediately squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself. He didn't want to watch. There was already a spear of pain through his chest at the knowledge of being left behind, abandoned, even if was a fragment of his own imagination punishing him. 

This was a new sort of self-flagellation. Just when he thought his heart couldn't be sundered any further, his mind managed to concoct fresh torment. 

Achttausendvierhundertneunundsechzig... achttausendvierhundertsiebzig...

Something heavy was draped over Caleb's shoulders, its sudden presence making him flinch in surprise. Looking up, his heart leapt to his throat upon seeing Essek kneeling back down by his side. "E-Essek...?"

"Yes, love." Essek placed a hand on Caleb's shoulder before gently pushing him. "Come, lay down by the fire. We need to raise your body temperature."

Caleb blinked, struggling to make sense of all of this as Essek pushed him down to lay on the rug. His gaze was fixed on Essek's face, wanting desperately to reach out and hold him once more, but his muscles were trembling and twitching so badly, he had no hope of any sort of motor control. 

Thankfully, Essek laid right along side of him so they were facing one another. He readjusted the blanket so that it was covering both of them, pressing his body against Caleb's. As he did so, he made sure that Caleb was stable on his side before grabbing one of his arms and draping it over his own waist.

Caleb let out a dry sob, reflexively trying to tighten his arm around Essek but unable to do more than clench his hand in the back of the grey prison shirt he was still wearing. 

As Essek settled, he rested his head so their noses were almost touching, both of them breathing the same air. Essek let out a long sigh through his nose as he reached up to brush back Caleb's hair once more.

It was in this moment that Caleb realized just how badly he was shaking. In contrast to Essek's still body, the strands of his hair were quivering, every inch of his body clenching and unclenching against Essek's. While the heat from the fireplace was gently rolling over them, it was Essek's body heat that was quickly building up underneath the blanket, creating a furnace that finally began to penetrate into his muscles. 

Silence stretched between them. Caleb continued to count, the mental counter turning into a soft whisper between them. A prayer, a promise. He also continued to stare at Essek's face, not quite making eye contact, but making sure that he had not been reduced to dust. At least, not yet. 

"Elftausendneunhundertsechzehn... elftausendneunhundertsiebzehn..."

The building heat was doing its job, and by the time twelve thousand seconds had passed, his body was no longer shaking as violently. There was still a fine tremor as exhaustion set in, and every single muscle was on fire from the prolonged stress.

Would he even be able to cast his teleport spell?

Caleb's breathing hitched at the thought, his muscles seizing once more as he began to panic. The seconds were counting down (less than a minute left), and it shouldn't matter. Whether or not he joined Essek in his death, he would wake up the next day to resume counting the seconds to his next execution. 

But it was all he had left, that brief peaceful moment he could share with Essek. 

"Caleb, what's wrong?" 

It was an insistent whisper, but it was like a siren to Caleb's ears. His entire body stiffened and froze, his breathing hitching as he held it. He blinked as Essek's face came into focus. His brow was furrowed with worry, his hand raised with the back of his fingers pressed gently against Caleb's cheek. Ever so slowly, he was stroking them along his cheekbone. 

Caleb could only let out a choked whine, his mind preoccupied with the last few seconds steadily counting down...

Essek's eyes gained a slightly shinier quality as he let out a wet sigh. "Caleb, please talk to me."

He was still holding his breath, but at the sound of the the plaintive please had the air rushing out of his lung. "Funf... vier..." A hot tear fell down the side of his face. "Drei... zwei... eins..."

Twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds since Essek's last execution. Essek's body was not dissolving into dust in his arms, his own quickly following suit. He was not walking up in the lumpy Rosohna bed, looking up at a dirty ceiling.

"I..." Another tear fell down his face, over the bridge of his nose. "I-I don't understand..."

Essek pressed himself closer to Caleb, sliding one arm under Caleb's waist and wrapping the other over him as he angled his head to kiss him softly. "It's okay..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "W-We'll figure it out. Just... please stay here with me, Caleb."

Caleb whimpered, a shiver running down his spine. He was still too weak to return the embrace, but at least Essek was here. The cumulative body heat was to the point of making Caleb sweat, his scent thick with every inhale. The pressure of Essek's arms around his waist, their legs tangled together... It was an echo of the many nights they have spent together over the years. 

For the moment, Caleb struggled to do much more than just exist, wondering idly if he had entered some new stage of madness. If he had... 

This was a mercy that he did not deserve. 

Chapter Text

Essek felt like he was dying each time Caleb slipped away from him, falling into a deep state of disassociation.

As they laid alongside one another, Caleb never quite took his eyes off Essek's face, but for most of that time, they were glassy and unfocused. The few precious moments of awareness were mixed with panic, grief, and confusion. Each time was a new realization that Essek was alive and with him. After hundreds of days trapped in a loop of anchored on his death, Caleb's mind was struggling to grasp that it was finally over.

But even with the panic and confusion, at least when Caleb was here. His mind could think and process information, work through whatever problem was presented before him. But when he slipped away from Essek, retreating back into his own mind, there was nothing. Maybe the barest hint of Zemnian counting, but there was no other inkling of the human Essek fell in love with.

During these periods of dissociated silence, Essek was left to just think. While he still had no idea what could have caused it, it was obvious that Caleb had been subjected to some sort of time loop. One that had evidently lasted for over five hundred days, in which Caleb had spent the first few dozens - hundreds - trying to save Essek. There had been many failures, but among the echoes, he had felt some successes as well. There had been some versions where the two of them had managed to make it out with their lives. But for whatever reasons, the loop had continued on.

So the question burning in Essek's mind was why the loop had finally stopped. By what cruelty did this magic persist no matter Caleb's efforts to only end after five hundred and forty-four cycles? Had it been arbitrary? Dozens of the echoes had ended the same as it had today, with Caleb - broken and hopeless - teleporting and embracing him at the last final moment. So what had changed? Why today?

But as these questions bore a hole in Essek's mind, he knew that further inquiry would have to be secondary to the enormously monumental task of taking care of Caleb and beginning to undo all of the damage the anomaly had caused.

At that, Essek took another moment to look at Caleb's vacant expression, seemingly unbothered or unaware of Essek's fingers continuing to slowly stroke his hair back.

"Caleb?" Essek whispered.

There was no reaction.

"Caleb?" he tried again. "Bitte sprich mit mir..."

Like before, the Zemnian had some effect, his eyelids fluttering for a moment before his gaze came a little more in focus.

"That's it, mein herz, please come back to me..."

Caleb's eyes darted back and forth for a moment before settling back on him. "E-Essek...?" he breathed incredulously, just like all the previous times.

"Yes, I'm right here. It's over." Essek leaned in to give a soft kiss to Caleb's trembling lips. "Can you stay with me?"

Caleb's breathing became shallow and quick. "It's... It's been too long..."

Relieved at the semblance of coherence, Essek continued to pet Caleb's hair as he gazed at him intently. "What's been too long?" he asked slowly and deliberately, keeping his tone firm. He wanted Caleb to know that he expected an answer and hoped it would keep him present.

Caleb's focus narrowed further upon Essek. "Y-Your execution... zwolftau... t-twelve thousand, sixty-five seconds... that's when we die. That's when I..." He choked on a sob, his body beginning to shake again. "... w-when I wake up again..."

The last part was whispered with absolute terror, as if speaking it aloud would cause it to manifest.

Essek twisted his hand into Caleb's hair, keeping a firm grip as he made eye contact. "Caleb. Please listen to me and hear me: it's over. Whatever magic was forcing you to relive this morning... it's gone."

Caleb was still trembling and hyperventilating, but he seemed to be taking the words in, slowly processing their meaning. Essek could feel Caleb's hand weakly grip and pull on the back of his shirt.

But then Essek's heart dropped as Caleb slowly shook his head, his eyes beginning to go unfocused once more. "It can't... It doesn't..." He let out a distressed whimper. "I-I've lost track..."

"Caleb!" Essek tightened his grip on his hair, pulling him just a modicum closer as he growled into Caleb's ear. "Stay with me! Please, do not leave me!"

It had the desired effect, Caleb letting out a choked gasp and his eyes focusing on Essek once more. A visible shiver ran through his body as he visibly swallowed, eyebrows angled in confusion. "I... I-I always come to you..."

The echoes all came to a single moment. And with a slight displacement of air, Caleb appeared before him.

Bile flooded Essek's mouth, fully taking in that Caleb's existence had been violently boiled down to nothing but trying to get to Essek. Either to save him or die with him.

The surge of anger and frustration had him reflexively clenching his fist further, drawing a soft hiss of pain from Caleb. In response, Caleb's breathing momentarily slowed and his body relaxed.

Essek frowned, immediately reminded of some of their earlier days together. The slow exploration of their bodies and preferences... It had been a long and complicated road, but they had eventually found a healthy balance. Caleb craved some amount of submission and punishment, serving as catharsis in times of particularly dark spirals of self-loathing. Sometimes it was the only way Essek could get Caleb to calm down and relax enough to work his way out of the spiral.

It was with a queasy guilt that Essek realized he could employ the same methods in this situation. It did not feel right to do so, not when Caleb was very obviously not in his right mind. He was barely able to grasp that Essek was even there. It did not seem likely that he would have the wherewithal to communicate if Essek went too far. 

But even as he contemplated this, as his grip on Caleb's hair loosened, Caleb's expression relaxed back to neutral, his eyes going glassy.

Essek bit his lip hard, rolling onto his back away from Caleb as he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He wanted to cry out, scream, unleash a line of reality bending force that shreds everything in its path. 

Instead, he just laid there. His eyes were burning, but he did not let the tears spill over. The blanket only half covered him now, giving way to cooler air. Caleb's arm - the one that Essek had pulled over to rest over his waist - now limply rested on his stomach. 

Essek let out a shaky exhale, remembering that it was still the same day. A single day for Essek, hundreds for Caleb.

For a moment, the researcher in him considered this as a matter of curiosity. At what point did the loop cycle back for Caleb? Whenever he died, or simply when the day ended for him one way or another? When did the loop start? If it was the moment of waking for Caleb, does that mean he has not actually had sleep since the cycle had begun?

At that, his grief and fear rose up in him once more, choking him. He was only able to stave off a secondary breakdown with the knowledge that Caleb needed him to stay in control.

And so he steeled himself, rubbing his hands down his face before looking back at Caleb. 

Even in his dissociated state, Caleb's gaze was still in the direction of Essek's face. It was a little disquieting, but it was the only active sign of life besides the slow and shallow rise and fall of his chest. 

Now that most of the physical signs of shock had been abated and knowing it would be next to impossible to get Caleb to consume any meaningful sustenance, Essek decided to at least get him to a proper bed. Perhaps a good long rest would further convince Caleb that this was not just an illusion or dream. 

Their room was just two floors above. Essek took a deep breath as he pulled the blanket more firmly around Caleb's shoulders.

Did he even bother trying to 'wake' him? Would he even notice if Essek used his graviturgy to guide him to their room? As much as he hated the emptiness, he wasn't sure he could stand to go through the erratic emotional swings of another bout of coherence only to lose Caleb again.

"I've got you," Essek whispered, mostly for his own sake. He traced the simple sigil before sliding a hand beneath Caleb's head and gently pulled him to sit up.

Caleb's eyelids fluttered, but his expression remained unchanged as Essek coaxed his body to float up along side him. Resecuring the blanket around the human's shoulders, Essek wrapped an arm around Caleb's waist and pulled him forward.

It was with a small bit of mercy that Caleb remained mostly unresponsive. His body curled a little bit against Esske's side, his head lolling to the side to rest against Essek's shoulder. With his magic, it was easy to make it to their bedroom without too much disruption.

However, his luck ran out the moment he pushed Caleb to sit on the bed.

Caleb immediately stiffened, and his eyes went wide as he began to breathe harshly through his nose. For once, he looked away from Essek, eyes darting around the room to take in the surroundings.

Essek let out a tired sigh and braced himself. "Caleb?"

Caleb flinched and looked back to him. Then his eyes slanted in incredulity as they flickered between Essek and the room. "Is... I-Is this...?"

"We're in the tower, it's over." Essek internally cringed at the impatience in his own voice. They both needed to rest. "It's time for sleep," he said, pushing Caleb to lay back with him.

But Caleb resisted, his body stiff as he turned and grabbed Essek's arms with surprising strength. "Nein! No, bitte, Shatz..." His eyes were focused once more as he swallowed compulsively. "Please, Essek... W-We can't, I... i-it worked...? B-But that means...."

He squeezed Essek's arms more tightly, pulling him closer and looking him straight in the eyes. It unsettled Essek, as Caleb almost never met his gaze directly. Not even in their most intimate moments.

"W-We go to sleep... and then this is gone, I wake up and..." His eyes glazed over for just a moment before snapping back to attention. "I just..." He reached up and stroked Essek's cheek with a trembling hand. "I-I need this for as along as possible."

Despite his exhaustion, Essek gave a small nod. "Okay," he whispered, reaching up to clasp Caleb's hand. "Okay, but you have to promise to stay with me."

Caleb frowned at that, a touch of horror and desperate grief shining through. "Essek... I... I'm trying..."

Caleb's voice broke with that last word, and Essek immediately scolded himself for being a selfish bastard. "No, I know, mein herz." He leaned in to give him a strong emphatic kiss. "But while we're here, can you keep talking to me? Maybe you could..." He hesitated for just a second. "Maybe you could tell me what's happening? How... How bad is this?"

Caleb laughed, a bitter hollow thing. "So many, so many..." Then he looked confused, frowning deeply as if concentrating on a particularly complicated problem. "No," he whispered to himself. "No, it was four hundred and sixteen..."

"What was?" Essek asked plaintively, starving for both information and for Caleb to stay focused.

Caleb's eyes widened again as he back at Essek. "That... was..." His eyes started darting around as if taking in the bedroom anew, his breathing shuddering and gasping. "Four hundred and sixteen...! A hundred and twenty-eight...!" 

Then his eyes landed on Essek's face once more. "Twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds..."

Something inside of Essek snapped. "Caleb, enough! Listen to me!" He grabbed Caleb by either side of his face. "It has been more than twelve thousand and sixty-five damned seconds! The dunamis has dissipated, it's is over, now please, just - !"

A small groan broke through the desperate tirade. Caleb's eyes were half-lidded, although still intent on Essek. His body had relaxed underneath his grip, and his breathing had evened out somewhat. 

Then Essek saw that he had dug his fingernails into the delicate skin of Caleb's face, just a hint of blood making themselves known in each small cut. 

Essek's body lurched back in horror and revulsion, quickly yanking his hands back and away from Caleb. Bile flooded his mouth and dribbled down his chin before he could cover his mouth, his revolting nature manifest. 

What was he doing? Snapping at Caleb while he was in such a state...

Caleb let out a ruined, high-pitched whine, blinking in confusion. "E-Essek?"

It was turning into an echo, but this was not dunamancy. This was the man he had fallen in love with, broken and shattered into just a faint shadow. Essek couldn't handle it, afraid that all of these clumsy attempts to help might scatter and destroy that shadow for good. 

So before he lost his nerve, Essek turned and left the chambers.

Space and time. He just needed a little bit of space and time to center himself before he made things worse.

Chapter Text

The numbers that used to be such a comfort, a stalwart pillar of support, were failing Caleb. They were jumbled, misaligned out of order. Incongruent with his brief moments with Essek.

They should always be at twelve thousand and sixty-five.

And just as he began to make sense of these disparate pieces, Essek abruptly pulled away from him, looking down at him with horror and disgust. Before Caleb could even consider what he had done wrong, Essek disappeared, leaving him cold and alone in the dimly lit chambers.

Caleb choked as the shredded bits of his heart rotted away and filled his esophagus and throat. He gagged and heaved, expelling irony tasting bile and a fairly sizeable puddle of foamy thick liquid pooling in the dent where Essek had been.

Panting and spitting out the remaining sick from his mouth, he remained bent over himself, clutching at his throat and the collar of his shirt as he tried to keep breathing.

Essek left him. Essek left him. He was wracking his mind: what had changed? This wasn't the first time Essek had left him before the loop ended, right? There was at least one memory that suggested as much.

What did you do?!

Caleb whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. Was this entire debacle his fault? Had he unconsciously tapped into unknown magicks, torn through space and time in a vain attempt to save Essek against his expressed wishes?

He reached up and rubbed his fingers against the faint pinpricks of pain along the sides of his face, mirroring where Essek's fingernails had just pierced the skin.

It wasn't the same, and he felt even more hollow for it.

"Essek?" he whispered out, hopefully.

But there was no response, and his mind went back to counting. Five hundred and forty-four... no, funfhundertdreiundzwanzig sekunden... but that was after he had already counted to twelve thousand and -

It has been more than twelve thousand and sixty-five damned seconds!

Essek's low hissing anger - paired with the grounding pain - had momentarily cleared the need for numbers or counting. The words didn't even matter so long as Caleb followed them and pleased his lover.

But he had evidently failed at even that.

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut hard. His head was pounding, his mouth and throat sour and dry. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to collapse, twitching and spasming with fiery pain. Nausea made his head spin, his stomach painfully clenching on nothing.

Not that it mattered. The moment he lost consciousness through slumber or death, his body would reset along with the rest of the day.

At that, all his muscles involuntarily unlocked, and he listed to the side and collapsed bonelessly into the bed. It was not a comfortable position, but he did not have the wherewithal to move.

He took a moment to note his arcane reserves. If he so wished, he could end it now. But that would require he reach down for his lodestone and perform the proper somatics, and he probably wasn't capable of such.

So instead, he allowed his eyelids to fall closed. It was easy, his body's exhaustion begging for reprieve.

And so Caleb once again gave up.

This was not the same.

Caleb immediately recognized this as a memory, just a few months earlier.

A memory? A memory? A day dream? Day dreaming of a memory?

No, not a few months, years. Many more than five hundred and forty-four days. He could count if he wanted, but he had no need to back then. He counted the days until Essek returned, but there was no need once he was here. Just enjoy and relax.

Until he couldn't.

A faint awareness that this was a change from the recent norm. As normal as twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds and certain death can be. But more encompassing was the old rotten reminder of who he was. The disgusting thing that had eagerly tortured and murdered at the word of a single man. A thing that watched his lovers kill their parents... for the Empire.

He had set the small home aflame. And even as he broke, he did nothing to take those flames back or move to possibly end the almost inhuman screaming.

"Caleb?" Essek laid down behind him, just barely touching a hand to Caleb's shoulder. "It's nearly noon." His voice was soft against his ear, with a twinge of concern.

He automatically shied away from that concern. "'M just tired," he mumbled, hoping to feign exactly that.

The hand became firmer on his shoulder, Essek's body pressing against his back. "Don't lie to me, young man." The voice was still soft, but there was an underlying threat that was impossible to miss. "You've been avoiding me for days now."

Caleb frowned and turned his head just enough to look at Essek in his periphery. "Was? W-We've been studying, I've been having meals with you...?"

"Oh your body has been with me, a bit of your intellect..." Essek traced a finger down Caleb's chin, making him shiver. "But I know you well enough by now, Caleb Widogast. You're hiding from me, hiding from the world." He tapped at the top Caleb's jawbone. "Tell me what's going on up here."

Caleb let out a shuddered sigh as Essek's voice hardened. "Essek... I-I don't..."

As he spoke, Essek's other hand wandered up to thread his fingers in Caleb's hair. After a moment of hesitance, the fingers curled into a fist and pulled Caleb's head back, exposing his neck. "Have you been bad? Do you need to be punished?"

The hard edge softened for a moment with the question. This was part of their routine. This was Essek asking to help Caleb in a way that made it easier to Caleb to accept.

Even with the tight grip in his hair, Caleb managed to give a small nod, his body relaxing at the prospect of being worked over.

Essek gave a nod of acknowledgement, not loosening his grip as he turned Caleb's head to face him fully. "Signal?"

Caleb licked his lips and gave a quick snap of his fingers.

"Good." And with that, Essek pulled Caleb up by his hair, making him sit up from the bed. "Let's see if we can wring some use out of you..."

Waking from a dream was almost as disorienting as being ripped from his loop of counting and death.

Waking from a dream was also distinctly different from restarting the day from the moment of waking. Particularly when the remnants of said dream had warmed his lower belly, his groin pulsating with desire. 

This ceiling was darker, this room was warmer. It was... maybe just as familiar as the rough ceiling of the cheap room he was accustomed to staring at as he waited and counted.

Eins... zwei... drei...

No, no, no, this wasn't right. This was different, too different. He's already counted to twelve thousand and sixty-five, he's done so twice, and Essek had not died.

Essek.

Caleb practically jumped from the bed, although his vision immediately blackened and his entire world practically flipped upside and and sideways simultaneously. The vertigo had him falling back on the bed with a groan, the sheets damp with his sweat and beginning to tangle around him.

But he ignored it for now, slowly pushing himself back up. Panic was slowly beginning to build in his chest as he remembered only brief flashes of the night before. (Day before, the vision before, it was real, it was real right? Right??).

There was warmth, and there was safety. But there was also confusion and frustration. The latter was the worst by far, and it had Caleb scrambling to figure out how to alleviate that frustration. Was there an explanation to tell, something to give or do to appease those around him...

A whimper of fear escaped his throat as he managed to sit up fully, still struggling to see and orient himself. Was he still in a dream? Was this some twisted version of the same day, a new iteration of his hell that he had no frame of reference for?

His knee suddenly slipped off the side of the bed, and the world spun more violently as he tumbled to the ground. Fresh pain shot up through his right shoulder and hip as he landed with a loud thump.

The shock of the fall had adrenaline pumping freshly through his veins, his breathing coming in short pants. He tried to move and readjust himself, but in the midst of the fall, the sheet had wrapped around and tangled more thoroughly with his gangly limbs. In this corner, Caleb could see nothing in the darkness.

He couldn't think. What was he supposed to do? He was still counting in the background (... dreihundertvier... dreihundertfunf... dreihundertsechs...). If he teleported now, he would only meet resistance, either die a bloody death or forced to watch Essek die while being held down.

But this was different, and Essek left. Probably because he had not kept his promise to leave well enough alone. Because he realized that if Caleb could so easily disrespect his wishes... or maybe he realized how easily he had given up, turned into a pathetic hollow shell...

And there was still the uncomfortable pressure between his legs, muddling things up further and nailing home his sick depravity. 

"E-Essek..." he breathed. "Essek...!" he said a bit louder, pleading with the ether. He groaned as he tried to detangle himself, but his arms and legs were stuck. He needed to crawl out of this (these makeshift confines or his own skin, who could really say?). He just needed to get out. 

"Essek, please," he begged. A dream? A nightmare? The five hundred and forty-fifth day?

Maybe he had finally died, this was just his hell. Perhaps it was fitting, but just the barest spark of hope had him continuing to beg, continuing to count.

"Essek..." 

Dreihunderteinundachtzig... dreihundertzweiundachtzig... dreihundertdreiundachtzig...

Essek first went back to the Salon to try and take his trance. However, the echoes of Caleb's broken words, the constant counting, the long stretches of nothingness... They all kept him from finding the peace required to rest. 

He spent at least two hours wandering from room to room trying to find that peace. He wouldn't be able to help Caleb if he was half-out of his mind with exhaustion. 

In a bitter twist, it was not until Essek floated up to the eighth floor that his mind finally began to settle. 

It had been over the period of months - starting with their trip into Aeor and continuing during some of his visits to Caleb in his small home in Rexxentrum - that Caleb shared and explained each of the rooms to Essek. The initial explanations were always overly simple, as if the memories were mundane and not rife with layers of complicated trauma. 

And over those months, Essek had helped Caleb through some of it. Obviously some rooms were easier than others, but the nineth room was the only that was truly unspoiled. The hardest rooms were the ones where Caleb had to acknowledge old love and the good and bad that had come with it. 

'Working through it' often involved very passionate and very intense bouts of sex. Sometimes it was the only way to get Caleb to finally let go of the thick cords of self-blame that he has carried for years and years. It often involved emotionally heavy beatings, tears, and slow sustained bouts of teasing and denial, but the eventual catharsis was always worth it. 

And it was in the replica of Astrid's room that Essek was finally able to relax. Perhaps it was the memory of Caleb tied to her bed, of sweetly teasing and pulling out orgasm after orgasm while forcing Caleb to make direct eye contact with him. 

It was certainly more pleasant than the reality shut in their shared room. 

When he woke up four hours later, he still did not immediately return. He hoped that Caleb was still taking his own rest, processing the day before on his own before Essek had a chance to muck up trying to be helpful. 

He did not have Caleb's talent for tracking time, but it had at least been a few hours since he had come out of his trance when he found himself in front of their chamber's door. He was still sick with fear and at a loss for how to actually help Caleb. 

But he was certainly no help standing out here, so swallowing down his own cowardice, he turned the knob and stepped inside. 

The perpetual embers of the fireplace were still glowing, providing more than enough light for Essek. These chambers were a bit of a compromise between the dour and plain ones Caleb used to sleep in and the overly opulent ones Caleb had designed for Essek: a single but large chamber. The furniture was of simple but quality Zemnian make, with a ceiling of grey and silver dunamantic patterns and a purple and black stained glass window abstractly depicting the Nein. 

But when Essek turned the corner to the bed, his heart leapt to his throat when he found it empty. "Caleb?!" 

A choked noise from the far side of the bed brought a great wave of relief, Essek sighing as he quickly glided to the other side. That relief was quickly dashed at the sight of Caleb wrapped and tangled tightly in the dark grey sheets from their bed, his body visibly shaking as he gasped for breath, weakly jerking and struggling. 

"Oh gods." Essek's voice was choked from guilt as he fell to his knees, grabbing Caleb by the shoulders to try and help him up.

"Es-Essek...!" Caleb wheezed, still jerking and struggling. 

With the proximity, Essek could clearly see dried tear tracks on Caleb's cheeks, his eyes wandering and blinking in a half-dissociated state. 

"Shh, shh, I'm right here..." Essek tried to free Caleb, but the sheets were tightly wrapped around him several times and fresh guilt had his hands were shaking. Instead, he focused on comforting Caleb, an arm wrapped around Caleb's head, cradling it to his chest. 

How long had Caleb been stuck here? Why had he left Caleb in the first place? Because he was a selfish coward. Caleb was still waking up from an eighteen month nightmare, and Essek had abandoned him the moment it became just a bit too uncomfortable.

Caleb's weak struggling quickly ceased, although he was still trembling as he angled his face press into Essek's neck. "'ll be good..." Caleb slurred. "Don leave, please, 'll be good..."

"No no, shhh..." Essek soothed, his eyes burning with fresh tears. "There's no need, mein herz. I'm sorry I left," he whispered plaintively. "It wasn't you, I promise, I promise." He kissed the top of Caleb's head, rocking him gently. 

Caleb moaned, leaning more heavily against Essek as he rolled his body toward him, his hips twitching and bucking. 

Essek's breath caught in his throat and every muscle in his body tightened. He recognized the feel of his lover's hot bulge humping needily against against his thigh. 

Caleb's soft panting, his pleading words, and the keening against his neck suddenly took on new meaning. In the past, Essek knew exactly what Caleb wanted in such a state, what he needed, and Essek was always more than happy to give it to him. 

Caleb was straining his body against Essek's, his shaking becoming worse with each passing second. "Be good... be good..." he whimpered, sounding lost and desperate.

Essek gave his head a shake, trying to clear it. "L-Let's get you back on the bed," he mumbled, moving away so he could untangle Caleb.

"No!" Caleb gasped, his body jerking to follow Essek, but instead he collapsed to the ground with a cough and a sob. "P-P-Pl...!"

"Just a moment," Essek murmured, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice as he pulled to unwrap the sheet from Caleb's body. 

Caleb's breathing hitching and then his entire body going stock still, his eyes gazing sightlessly past Essek, was the only warning before he began to thrash. Most alarmingly, he began to slam his head back against the hard wood with a loud THWACK TWACK TWACK - 

"Caleb!" Essek quickly wrapped an arm under Caleb's head, stopping him from doing further damage before gathering him back up into his arms. Caleb's body was still entangled, but he didn't seem to mind much as he relaxed back against Essek. "What in the name of all of the gods and goddesses are you thinking?!"

Caleb flinched and cringed away from Essek's anger but maintained his gaze on Essek's face, mumbling something under his breath.

Despite getting proper rest, Essek was already feeling at the end of his tether. "Wh-What's that, love?" 

Caleb visibly swallowed. "Th-Three..." His breathing shuddered. "I-I keep g-g-getting to... to twelve thousand an' sixty-five..." His face twisted, distraught and fearful, even as he pressed his bulging erection back against Essek's leg. Essek wasn't even sure Caleb was fully conscious of the action. "I-I'll be good..."

Essek squeezed his eyes shut, hugging Caleb tightly to his chest. He was stuck, with no idea for what to do.

Well, that wasn't quite true. He had an idea what to do, but he was loathe to consider it seriously. 

Essek took a deep breath through his nose as he continued to slowly rock Caleb, trying to think as objectively as possible. In the last day, very few things seemed to penetrate Caleb's current mental fog. Speaking Zemnian was one of them, but Essek only knew a few words and phrases. It could temporarily yank Caleb to the present, but then he would quickly succumb once more. 

The only other effective tactics... well, really, it was a single tactic: replicating the conditions of their more intense scenes in the bedroom. 

Essek swallowed heavily, feeling ill for even considering it. Even under the best of circumstances, it was a complicated thing for Caleb. Often it was the only way to break Caleb out of a dark spiral, and better it be Essek than some uncaring stranger. 

(Caleb had once confided that, before doing such scenes with Essek, he would simply sneak away from his friends to find a random John off the streets to push him past his limits. It was a point of deep shame for him, that he required such extreme measures to re-find the ground beneath his feet. Not even Veth knew.)

Essek began to tremble as his eyes once again began to burn. He could do it. He was even semi-confident that it would work, at least temporarily. If nothing else, maybe Caleb would finally be able to find proper rest. 

Caleb was still muttering against his chest, going back and forth between counting in Zemnian and quietly begging Essek with only so many words. 

"P-Please... 'll be good... be good..."

And Essek's heart couldn't take it anymore. 

"Alright, young man," Essek breathed into Caleb's ear. "Show me how good you can be."

Chapter Text

"Show me how good you can be."

Caleb immediately moaned and trembled, relaxing at the simple but direct order. It was an expectation laid upon him, a goal, a purpose to strive for. Something solid to cling to.

He was breathing heavily through his nose as he squirmed and tested his bonds, the sheet that was tightly wrapped around him. His legs were tangled and stuck together with only his feet sticking out and barely able to kick. At the same time, his left arm was pinned down along his side with his right curled and pinned against his chest. The more he struggled, the tighter the sheet seemed to get.

But while it had been a source of panic and fear before, with Essek there, it transformed into a comforting pressure and a source of safety. 

Essek shifted his body so that Caleb was nestled between his legs. He had one arm wrapped tightly around Caleb's chest, holding him up, while his other hand was slowly rubbing Caleb's stomach over the sheet, just inches from his very visible arousal. 

"Look at you..." Essek whispered into his ear with a hint of condescension. "Just begging to be used..."

That had Caleb panting, leaning into the truth of it. He strained against his makeshift bonds, trying to angle his head up. "E-Essek..."

"Hush." With practiced ease, Essek dragged his fingers across Caleb's chest and found his nipple before squeezing it hard. 

Even through the sheet, the pain shot through his chest and straight to both his head and his groin. Caleb sucked in a shuddering gasp as it made his arousal pulse while also creating a brief moment of clarity. They were in the tower, in their shared bedchambers. Essek was here, holding him, helping him, taking care of him...

"That's right," Essek continued to whisper, slowly rolling and pulling on the nipple to emphasize his words. "You are in my control. You will not speak unless I command it, and you will not come until I've decided you've earned it."

Caleb moaned and shivered as he gave a small nod. 

"Such a disgusting thing..." Essek went on, still rubbing Caleb's stomach. "I'm not even touching you, and yet your body is exposing you for the whore you are..."

Caleb's hips bucked, and he could feel his underwear growing wet with his precome. His head was muzzy from the pain and growing pressure between his legs, his face becoming hot with humiliation, but it all felt real. And that was what he truly craved. It was what he needed.

"So tell me," Essek whispered, a soft but firm order. He released Caleb's nipple continued to rub it with a rhythm to match the hand on his stomach. "How many people have you seduced? How many people did you beg to use you?" 

Caleb's face got hotter, his cock twitching in its confines. Several faces flashed in the forefront of his mind, strangers whose names he rarely learned. So many times he had been on his knees in the mud or refuse of an alleyway, giving into the pit of despair and disgust and begging for them to use and treat him accordingly. 

A small spike of pain shot through Caleb's cock as Essek flicked it sharply, making him squeak in surprise. "Speak," he growled, a low threat rumbling in his voice. 

Caleb swallowed down the lump in his throat. He wanted to be good for Essek. "I... I-I'm not sure..." Many of these encounters blurred together. Sometimes it was one after the other. Sometimes it was multiple people at once. 

"Well then, let me help you count," Essek said, his voice smooth and soft, as if talking to dimwitted child. His hand continued to rub Caleb's stomach with same even rhythm. It was a teasing torture, a part of Caleb wanting to beg Essek to touch him properly, but he knew he hadn't earned it yet. 

This was good. This was real. 

"Think back," Essek prompted. "The first stranger that you couldn't help but subjugate yourself to... You were filthy, beaten, and all you could focus on was being used like a discarded toy..."

Caleb whimpered and squirmed. He was kneeling against the backside of a barn after barely giving the local crownsguard the slip after swiping a sweet roll. The farm hand that had found him... 

His legs squirmed as his hips strained and sought out stimulation that would not come. 

"I'm waiting," Essek warned, his patience wearing thin. 

It sent a shiver down Caleb's spine. "He... H-He found me... m-my fingers were sticky." He had been licking and sucking on them, savoring every morsel of the leftover sugar. "He was gonna turn me in."

Essek hummed, the hand on Caleb's stomach getting lower and tantalizingly close to Caleb's prominent tent. "And how did you convince him not to?"

Caleb was sweating, his entire body on fire with need and humiliation. "I-I sucked him..." The newly escaped Bren hadn't even asked. He had babbled and begged, fumbling with the farm hand's pants before desperately swallowing his cock. The farm hand hadn't complained. 

"And was that it?" Essek teased, already knowing the answer. "Did you walk away with your earned freedom?"

Caleb whimpered, his vision beginning to blur as tears welled in his eyes. "N-No..." The farm hand had naturally clocked the fact that he was a natural slut, and after Bren had swallowed the first load, he had been dragged into the barn and spent the rest of the afternoon fucking him on a pile of soiled hay. 

"How long did you stay?" Essek asked, a grin in his voice. His other hand was now going back and forth, rubbing one nipple and then the other, keeping Caleb stimulated. "How many loads did you take before you were tossed out like a dirty rag?"

Caleb inhaled and held his breath, mentally counting. But while his memory was exceptional, it was a long time ago, and Essek's teasing fingers and rubbing made it hard to focus. They were pleasant and grounding sensations, just enough to fuel his arousal without pushing it further, which was driving him insane. 

It was what he deserved. No satisfaction, a constant reminder of his actual worth, of how disgusting and depraved he was...

Essek pinched Caleb's nipple again, harder than before. "How many?" he growled, growing impatient.

Caleb shuddered and bit his lip, focusing on the memory of the farm hand. Even back then, he could have burned him with a wave of his hand, but he hadn't. He allowed it happen, he wanted it to happen. What was more fitting for an unredeemable creature than to be used and then discarded?

Fucked in the hay, mouth fucked against the wall, bent over a rough wooden table...

"Five," he finally moaned, instinctively rolling his hips for even just the barest friction between his raging erection and the fabric of his pants. But even with Essek's ministrations, it wasn't enough. 

Essek let out a chuckle, shaking his head as if in disbelief and admonishment. "The likes of you only worth a measly five loads..."

Something Caleb wavered. Essek's chuckle was hollow, belying some other truth. And Caleb realized that it was not true amusement: it was a forced sound.

For a moment, threads of the day before tapped at the edges of his attention (five hundred and forty-four, twelve thousand and sixty-five seconds...). He'd lost count, he wasn't going to get there in time, Essek was going to be alone, he would be forced to watch him dissolve to dust again...

"Caleb!" 

The harsh growl was paired with a sharp and sudden pain shooting through his chest, pulled him back into the moment. His breathing hitched, and he blinked repeatedly as he processed that Essek's hand had slipped beneath the sheet and his shirt, Essek's finger and thumb tightly pinching and twisting his nipple. 

"Don't you dare check out on me," Essek snarled, twisting Caleb's nipple even further, making him gasp and whimper with the fresh pain. "We are just getting started, because I don't think you fully appreciate what a worthless cumrag you are." Essek let go of his nipple only to slide his hand over to pinch and twist the other just as viciously. "You took five loads from that first man, but how many times did you come? How much did you get off from being used...?"

Caleb whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. At this point, his erection was painful with need, the abuse pushing him harder against the edge with no relief in sight. The fabric of his pants were soaked with precum, visibly darkening the sheet that was confining him. 

Essek twisted and pulled harder on Caleb's nipple, pressing his mouth to the cup of Caleb's ear. "Talk to me, slut... How many times did you come...?"

Caleb was panting heavily through his nose as he thought back on that long afternoon. He remembered the farm hand mocking him, putting words to what Bren was beginning to understand about himself: he was a natural whore, desperately needy for a proper fuck. He craved being abused and used again and again...

"Three," he finally murmured, his face burning with shame. He had orgasmed twice while being fucked in the ass and once more when the farm hand had pinned him to the wall and forced his cock down Bren's throat. 

Upon hearing Caleb's answer, Essek released his nipple, pulling his hand out to resume rubbing each nipple through the sheet. "So that was one, the first," he whispered. "How long was it before you went crawling to the next one, begging to be put to use?"

Caleb swallowed, his head swimming with the constant teasing and humiliation. There had been many times he sold his body for coin, but that had been a means of survival, a practical matter. These encounters had all blended together over the years, being of no importance. 

"A year," Caleb whispered back. His research had begun to lag. While he had taken the role of a filthy vagabond in order to hide, combined with the constant dearth of coin, he had no proper means of accessing books or other resources. He couldn't move closer to his ultimate goal. A goal which, at the time, was his only reason to continue living. 

Essek's rubbing did not falter, continuing to drive Caleb mad. "Tell me: how did you beg for it?"

Caleb moaned, a tear falling down his cheek as his legs kicked out uselessly, his body seeking relief and receiving none. "I... I hid my books... a-and I found a tavern..." That was a generous term for what what was barely more than a hole in the wall. It had obviously been the center of the criminal element of that town, which Bren had been counting on: people with no qualms taking advantage of a homeless stranger that had just wandered into town. 

Essek hummed. "And? What did you do once you got into the tavern?"

Caleb let out a shuddered moan as he rolled his hips uselessly. "I... I tried to suck his cock..." A desperate Bren had purposefully tried to provoke the nastiest looking person. It had done its job, provoking a sound beating before being violently fucked. With several other individuals joining in immediately after.

And Essek continued to show no mercy, poking and prodding at Caleb, forcing him to describe these encounters in detail. Caleb was dragged through and forced to relive every humiliating moment. All the while, rubbing and pinching Caleb's nipples and stomach, keeping his arousal burning, and no matter how much Caleb thrashed or struggled, he was left teetering on the edge for hours. 

Essek kept careful count, and while Caleb had already known, it was sixteen individuals who Caleb had thrown himself at to be punished and used. The last few had been in Shadycreek Run, in the aftermath of Mollymauk's death. Caleb had been desperate for a reminder of how useless and disgusting he was, without the curious or prying eyes of the rest of the Nein. 

Through this entire time, Essek had continued to tease and drive Caleb crazy with need. His body was constantly trembling, drool dribbling down his chin as his body strained and and thrashed against the now soaking sheet as he was taken by old memories. 

"So that makes me seventeen..." Essek cooed into Caleb's ear. He finally lowered his hand to cup Caleb's bulge. "The seventeenth to see what a cumdump you are..."

Caleb's breathing hitched, another bead of drool trailing down his throat. His hips were straining up against Essek's hand. The fabric was slick with precum, easily moving as Essek slowly rubbed him.

"So tell me, slut... Would you like to come?"

Caleb let out a low keen as he nodded, hot tears running down his face.

"Do you deserve to come?"

His breathing hitched once more, the deep set disgust weighing heavily on his head. His mind was still buried in memories of being used, getting off from the abuse. Threads and echoes of failure and failure and failure...

And he shook his head, body still hot and flush with shame. 

There was a brief moment of stillness. Then Essek grabbed Caleb harshly by the hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to make eye contact. Caleb gasped with the sudden pain, blinking rapidly as he tried to clear his vision. 

Essek's expression was one of cold rage, his grip tightening in Caleb's hair. "Well guess what? You don't get a say in what you deserve." And with that, he pressed down hard on Caleb's aching erection, rubbing it back and forth with unexpected speed.

The air was driven from Caleb's lungs from the explosion of pain and pressure, only a weak wheeze escaping as his body tried and failed to curl up and protect itself. 

Essek showed no mercy, his hand crushing his cock and balls as his viciously rubbed back and forth, maintaining eye contact as he did. Caleb's body was spasming from the nauseating pain, choking on his sobs. 

"You're going to come," Essek said with certainty, his voice a harsh whisper. "You're going to come from pain, just like you have so many times before. Because it's what you need, and it's what you've earned."

Essek pushed down hard, flattening Caleb's balls against is pelvic bone, and his entire body stiffened as an intense orgasm rocked through his body. While there was relief from the release of pressure, pain raked across Caleb's skin, radiating from his groin after hours of being edged. 

As the orgasm ripped through him, Essek wrapped his hand around his bulge and gave it another hard squeeze, adding another pulse of painpleasure. He was still staring Caleb in the eyes, the hard anger minutely softening. "Good boy," he whispered.

Caleb's mouth twitched upward in a smile. The pain and pleasure of his orgasm slowly died down, and exhaustion began to pull heavily on him. His awareness faded and easily slipped into unconsciousness, cradled in Essek's arms.