Pov Remus
Remus had traveled far, looking for Adam after looking for the so-called sage.
The problem was he was basically a princess in a tower.
He had been able to escape by giving them enough information that it would take years.
When she found Adam, Remus had seen this before.
Not in Adam specifically.
She had never spoken with him, but she knew the look.
She had lived long enough to recognize it in her brother and, at times, in herself.
There came a point when centuries stopped feeling like an accumulation of life and started feeling like repetition.
Kingdoms rose, kingdoms fell, children became parents, parents became ancestors, and the people who had once mattered most became names no one remembered.
Eventually, an immortal could reach a place where nothing felt urgent anymore.
Adam was there.
He was only five hundred and eighty years old.
To Remus, that was hardly an age worth boasting about.
She had been alive long enough to understand that immortals often made the same mistake early in their lives: they assumed that because they could continue forever, they would always know what to do with that time.
They did not.
Eventually the centuries caught up with everyone.
Adam had stopped trying to change the world.
He was no longer aggressively improving humanity, no longer chasing every problem he sensed through his connection to the species.
He answered questions when people brought them to him.
He healed those who asked for his help.
He traveled when he became bored.
Otherwise, he simply existed.
Remus found that almost comforting.
It meant he was ready.
She knew exactly where he was staying.
She had spent enough time observing him to understand the rhythm of his life, the quiet cabin, the people who occasionally sought him out, and the way he seemed content to let the world pass around him.
She also knew about his mother.
Zakiti.
That was the only part of this that required care.
Remus had no intention of pretending she was harmless.
Zakiti was older than Adam, stronger than most beings Remus had encountered, and utterly devoted to her son.
More importantly, Zakiti would probably recognize what Remus wanted almost immediately.
That was fine.
Remus did not need Zakiti to like her.
She needed Zakiti to decide that allowing Remus into Adam’s life was better than watching her son continue to drift.
That was why Remus was going to Adam herself.
She did not approach him like a stranger.
She approached him like an old acquaintance.
When she finally found him, Adam was sitting outside the cabin, lazily working on a piece of wood with a small knife.
He looked up as she approached.
Remus smiled.
“Adam.”
He studied her for a moment.
“Have we met?”
“Not properly.”
She stopped a short distance away and looked him over with open curiosity.
“So this is the great Ittasal.”
Adam sighed.
“Please don’t call me that.”
Remus laughed.
“Then Adam it is.”
She had chosen the greeting carefully.
She knew immortals.
The worst thing you could do with one was immediately treat them like a myth.
Adam had spent centuries being mythologized against his wishes.
The last thing he needed was another person putting him on a pedestal.
So she made herself comfortable instead.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Most of it is probably wrong.”
“Almost certainly.”
Adam smiled.
Remus returned it.
Inside, she was thinking something very different.
He really is easy to disarm.
She sat across from him.
“You have an interesting way of living.”
Adam shrugged.
“I’ve had a lot of time to figure out what I don’t like.”
“And have you figured out what you do like?”
Adam thought about it.
“Not really.”
That answer pleased her.
Exactly as expected.
Remus leaned back.
“I think I can help with that.”
Adam raised an eyebrow.
“You just met me.”
“I’ve lived much longer than you.”
She said it casually, almost playfully.
Adam laughed.
“How much longer?”
“Enough.”
That made him laugh again.
Remus enjoyed that.
Good.
Keep him comfortable.
“I know what this stage is like,” she continued.
“Eventually you get tired of watching the same things happen. You start wondering what the point is.”
Adam’s expression became quieter.
“You’ve felt that?”
“Everyone who lives long enough does.”
She made it sound sympathetic.
Inside, she was evaluating him.
And you’re already exactly where I thought you’d be.
She leaned forward.
“I don’t think you’re finished, Adam. I think you’ve simply run out of things that interest you.”
Adam considered that.
“Maybe.”
“Then I have something that might.”
His attention sharpened slightly.
Remus smiled.
“Me.”
Adam laughed.
Remus laughed with him.
Not as a woman, she thought.
Not yet.
As a problem.
She had come to Adam because she wanted him to modify her.
She wanted stronger bones.
Her body was already extraordinarily resilient, but Adam’s understanding of biology could make it better.
She wanted to know how far his modifications could push her physiology without compromising her mutation.
More importantly, she wanted his Mana.
She had seen what he had done to others.
If Adam could integrate Mana into her body deeply enough for it to become the primary source of her regeneration, she would gain something beyond merely healing faster.
Her regeneration would become tied to an energy system she had barely begun to understand.
And there was another improvement she wanted.
Flight.
Not true high-speed flight.
She did not need that.
She wanted the ability to rise from the ground, move through the air, and maintain a slow aerial pace without relying on anything external.
Simple.
Elegant.
Useful.
But Adam could give her more than those things.
He could give her possibilities.
“So,” Remus said, “I’ve come to make a deal.”
Adam tilted his head.
“What kind?”
“You make me stronger.”
That got his attention.
“You want me to modify you?”
“I want you to find out what I’m capable of becoming.”
Remus smiled warmly.
Inside, she was already imagining the possibilities.
And if he succeeds, I will never have to worry about my limitations again.
Adam looked thoughtful rather than suspicious.
“What exactly do you want?”
“Stronger bones. A better regenerative system. Perhaps some additional capabilities.”
She paused.
“And I’d like to see whether you can teach my body to work with Mana.”
Adam stared at her.
Now she had him.
She could practically see the curiosity returning to his eyes.
There you are.
For the first time in years, Adam looked genuinely interested in something.
Remus continued.
“And perhaps you could make me fly.”
Adam smiled.
“Fly?”
“Fast enough that I don’t embarrass myself.”
Adam laughed.
She laughed with him.
Good.
He thinks this is charming.
It was going perfectly.
Then Adam looked toward the cabin.
“Mother might have questions.”
Remus followed his gaze.
Zakiti was standing in the doorway.
She had not said a word.
She had simply been watching.
Remus smiled politely at her.
“Hello.”
Zakiti looked at her for several seconds.
Then she smiled.
It was a perfectly pleasant smile.
“Hello.”
Remus knew immediately.
She knows.
Of course she did.
Zakiti had spent ninety years protecting Adam before Remus had even begun watching him.
She could probably sense the difference between genuine interest and calculated flattery before either had spoken.
Yet Zakiti did not object.
That surprised Remus.
Adam looked between them.
“My mother doesn’t seem concerned.”
Zakiti shrugged.
“Should I be?”
Adam smiled.
Remus returned it.
Inside, however, she was thinking carefully.
She will be a problem.
Not because Zakiti would fight her immediately.
That would have been easier.
The real problem was that Zakiti loved Adam enough to let him make his own choices.
And Remus was confident she could make him happier.
She could give him something he had been missing for centuries.
A challenge.
A mystery.
A reason to experiment again.
A person who could survive his modifications and force him to think differently about his own abilities.
And eventually, perhaps, a family.
Remus looked back at Adam.
He was smiling now.
Not the distant smile he gave strangers.
A genuine one.
Remus felt something unexpected stir inside herself.
For a brief moment, she wondered whether perhaps she had underestimated him.
Then she pushed the thought away.
Adam was still useful.
Very useful.
And Remus had spent far too many centuries to confuse usefulness with sentiment.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She had come here with a simple objective.
Get Adam to improve her.
Everything else could come afterward.
But as Adam began asking questions about her biology, Remus realized something that made her smile.
He had not needed to be convinced to help her.
He was already fascinated.
And for an immortal who had spent decades drifting through life, that might have been the most valuable thing she could have given him.
-1225 BCE
Adam was now 615 years old when Remus finally introduced herself properly.
He was sitting outside his cabin, she walked up the path and stopped a few feet away.
They talked for hours.
Adam was fascinated by her longevity, her mutation, and the sheer amount of history she had experienced.
Remus, meanwhile, carefully studied him.
He was exactly as she had expected: powerful, knowledgeable, young by immortal standards, and tired in a way that had nothing to do with his body.
-1224 BCE
Adam began with Remus’s skeleton.
He spent weeks studying the way her mutant physiology produced such unusual durability and then reinforced the internal structure of her bones.
When he finally finished, Remus stood beside a large stone column.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Hit it.”
She looked at him.
“That’s your scientific method?”
“For now.”
She struck the column.
The stone shattered.
Remus looked at her hand.
Nothing.
Adam smiled.
“Again.”
She hit it harder.
Another section was destroyed.
Remus looked at him.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“I haven’t had a new biological problem in a while.”
“You could have said thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving you something interesting to do.”
Adam laughed.
Exactly what I wanted.
Remus was beginning to understand how easily Adam’s curiosity could be directed.
She did not need to force him.
She simply needed to give him something worth examining.
That evening she deliberately asked him about his earlier work with the Inhumans.
Adam talked for hours.
-1223 BCE
The next year was considerably more difficult.
Adam wanted to make Mana the primary mechanism behind Remus’s regeneration rather than simply adding magical energy on top of her existing mutant healing.
He spent months testing how her body accepted Mana, how it distributed the energy, and how her mutation interacted with it.
At one point, Remus looked at the increasingly complicated notes spread across Adam’s table.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Adam didn’t look up.
“It’s your biology.”
“You could simply make me heal faster.”
“I could.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Because I want to know how far mana can push the body past its capacity”
Remus smiled.
“There it is.”
Adam finally looked up.
“What?”
“That look.”
“What look?”
“The one you get when you’ve found something you actually care about.”
Adam paused.
He hadn’t realized she was right.
Eventually the integration worked.
Remus cut across her forearm and watched the wound close as Mana surged through her body.
Unlike her old regeneration, which relied heavily on her biological resources, the new system was sustained primarily through Mana.
Adam stared at the healing tissue.
Remus looked at him.
“Well?”
“I think I just gave you an entirely new reason to be difficult.”
She laughed.
Inside, she was ecstatic.
Exactly what I came for.
And More…
But Adam’s reaction mattered more than she expected.
He looked happy.
-1222 BCE
Adam attempted to make Remus fly.
The first attempt lasted approximately three seconds.
She rose from the ground, tilted sideways, and landed in a bush.
Adam stared.
Remus emerged with leaves in her hair.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were absolutely going to say something.”
“I was going to ask whether you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
Adam walked over and brushed a leaf from her shoulder.
“You want to try again?”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
It took several attempts before Adam figured he should refer to the experience he had with the Inhumans.
Eventually Remus rose several feet into the air and stayed there.
She looked down.
“I’ve wanted to do this for centuries.”
Adam smiled.
“You look happy.”
“I am.”
She slowly drifted forward.
Adam followed her on foot.
“You’re doing it.”
“I noticed.”
“Do you want to go higher?”
“Not yet.”
She lowered herself back to the ground.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Remus said, “Thank you.”
Adam shrugged.
“You’re welcome.”
But she also realized she was no longer thinking only about what the power could do for her.
She was thinking about the man who had given it to her.
=1221 BCE
Remus began accompanying Adam on his travels.
One afternoon, they encountered several armed men attempting to rob a group of travelers.
Adam slowed down.
“We should probably help.”
Remus looked at him.
“I’ll handle it.”
She flew a short distance upward, landed behind the men, and disarmed two before they knew she was there.
One attacked her with a sword.
The blade struck her ribs.
It broke.
Remus barely reacted.
Adam walked over.
“You alright?”
Remus looked at the broken sword.
“Completely.”
Adam knew she was telling the truth.
He couldn’t feel pain normally, either.
Any suffering inflicted upon him was distributed through humanity itself, preventing him from experiencing pain in the ordinary sense.
Remus knew this and had never treated Adam as someone who needed to be protected from physical danger.
Adam smiled.
“You know, you’re getting rather good at this.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Adam laughed.
That afternoon, they walked for several hours.
They talked about nothing particularly important.
That was what Adam liked most.
-1220 BCE
Remus, after hearing several stories about it, finally asked him about Avalon.
They were sitting beside the fire when she brought it up.
“I’ve heard you mention it several times.”
Adam stared into the flames.
“There’s a reason I don’t talk about it much.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
There was a long silence.
Then he began telling her.
He told her about Agon as a child, about teaching him, about becoming his friend, and about Aran.
Eventually he explained that Agon and Aran had married thirty years after Adam first met them.
Remus listened without interrupting.
“What happened?”
“They grew old.”
Adam’s voice was quiet.
“They both died.”
Remus looked at him.
“And you left.”
“Yes.”
“Because you couldn’t watch their children grow old too.”
Adam nodded.
“I could survive it. I just didn’t want to.”
Remus reached over and rested a hand against his.
“I understand.”
Adam looked at her.
“I experienced something similar”
For once, there was no manipulation behind her words.
She genuinely understood.
-1219 BCE
Zakiti eventually decided she had watched long enough.
“Come train with me,” she told Remus one morning.
Remus understood immediately.
“You don’t trust me.”
Zakiti smiled.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
They sparred for most of the morning.
Remus was difficult to hurt, but Zakiti was stronger, more experienced, and extremely efficient.
She repeatedly forced Remus to rely on skill rather than regeneration.
Because the only thing that remained when she took a serious hit from Zakiti was nothing but bon would remain to regenerate from.
Eventually Zakiti knocked her onto the ground again.
Remus looked up.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
Zakiti offered her a hand.
Remus took it.
As they walked back toward the cabin, Zakiti spoke quietly.
“My son is happier.”
Remus said nothing.
“That matters to me.”
“You think I’m bad for him?”
“I think you want something from him.”
Remus smiled slightly.
“That is true. From the beginning, I asked him for help. He is the one who said yes”
Zakiti looked at her.
“But?”
“But I also like him.”
Zakiti nodded.
“I suspected that.”
She did not ask which part came first.
Remus did not offer the answer.
=1218 BCE
Adam’s discovery of his X-gene began almost accidentally.
He had been comparing Remus’s mutant biology to his own when he noticed an unusual sequence buried within her genome.
He stared at it for several minutes.
Remus looked over his shoulder.
“What?”
“I think I found something.”
“What?”
“Me.”
She laughed.
“That’s unusually philosophical.”
“No. Seriously.”
Adam examined the sequence again.
And so the sunspecies of mutant was found.
The X-gene that came with this new subspecies.
He had never activated it because he had never known to look for it.
Once he understood what he was seeing, his curiosity became intense.
“Remus.”
“What?”
“I think humanity has been carrying something it hasn’t fully expressed.”
“And you?”
“I think I can use it too.”
He began activating the gene.
The change was gradual at first.
Then Adam suddenly stopped breathing.
He could feel the air.
Not simply around him.
Everywhere.
The wind moving between the trees.
The pressure differences in the atmosphere.
The distant storm forming beyond the horizon.
He stood.
Remus watched him.
“Adam?”
He lifted one foot.
Then the other.
He rose several feet into the air.
Remus smiled.
“So you finally stole my trick.”
Adam laughed.
“No. And I gave you that trick”
He looked toward the horizon.
“I think it’s much bigger than that.”
He reached into the surrounding air.
The wind responded.
Adam didn’t consciously command it.
He simply connected to it.
He realized that he could inherit the properties of natural phenomena themselves.
A hurricane could give him tremendous aerial speed.
Volcanic heat could provide extraordinary thermal power.
Extreme cold could become part of him.
The forces of nature were no longer simply things he observed.
They were things he could connect to.
Remus watched him with genuine amazement.
“What are you?”
Adam smiled.
“I don’t know.”
That answer delighted him more than anything else could have.
For the first time in decades, there was something about himself that he did not understand.
And he desperately wanted to.
-1217 BCE
Adam became obsessed with testing the new ability.
Remus accompanied him to a mountain where he could safely experiment.
“Try the wind again,” she said.
Adam lifted his hand.
The air moved.
He rose.
Then accelerated.
He returned several minutes later with a grin on his face.
“How fast?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I stopped measuring.”
Remus laughed.
“That’s a terrible habit.”
“I was distracted.”
“By what?”
Adam looked toward the sky.
“Everything.”
He explained that the power was not merely flight.
He could sense natural phenomena and inherit aspects of their properties.
When he reached toward a powerful storm, he could feel the potential speed contained within it.
When he connected to intense heat, he could feel his body adapting.
Remus looked at him.
“You’ve just become considerably more interesting.”
Adam smiled.
“I think you did that to me.”
“I’ll take the credit.”
Neither realized how much their relationship had changed.
They were no longer merely experimenting together.
They were sharing discoveries.
-1216 BCE
Adam eventually realized that Remus had originally approached him with a very specific agenda.
“What exactly was the intention after you received my upgrades”
“Originally nothing more than the upgrades. Then we talked about everything, about Aviolon and our similarities, about our long lives. I began to wonder what the future could hold if I stayed”
Adam understood immediately.
Children.
He did not become angry.
He simply stared at her.
“Were you just going to leave. The second I finished the upgrades”
“At first.”
That answer hurt more than Remus expected.
Adam looked away.
“But not now?”
“No.”
She moved closer.
“Not now.”
He believed her.
That was the important part.
-1215 BCE
Ten years after Remus first approached him, Adam had changed more than either of them expected.
He was still capable of drifting through entire days.
He still had no desire to become a king, god, or savior.
He still refused to return to the days when he tried to solve every problem humanity experienced.
But he was no longer empty.
He had something that immortality had taken from him and that Remus had unexpectedly restored.
Anticipation.
He wanted to know what his X-gene could eventually become.
He wanted to see what his connection to natural phenomena could do.
He wanted to continue studying Remus.
He wanted to argue with her.
He wanted to hear her laugh.
And, increasingly, he wanted her near him even when there was nothing to study.
Remus had entered his life intending to acquire power.
She had gotten stronger bones, Mana-driven regeneration, and the ability to fly.
Then she had discovered something she had not planned for.
She actually cared about him.
Zakiti saw the change.
One evening she found Adam and Remus sitting outside the cabin, arguing about whether a particular storm could be used to accelerate Adam safely.
“You two sound like children,” Zakiti said.
Adam looked at her.
“She’s trying to convince me to fly into a hurricane.”
Remus folded her arms.
“I’m trying to convince you to test the upper limits of your ability.”
“That’s the same thing.”
Zakiti shook her head.
“You’ve both become ridiculous.”
Adam smiled.
Remus smiled too.
Zakiti looked at her son.
He was interested again.
He was curious again.
He was laughing again.
That was enough.
She still had her suspicions about Remus.
She probably always would.
But Zakiti had spent centuries watching Adam slowly withdraw from life after Avalon.
If this woman had managed to make him care about tomorrow again, Zakiti was willing to let them find out what they could become together.
And Remus, despite everything she had originally intended, was beginning to realize that the most valuable thing Adam had given her was not stronger bones, Mana, or flight.
It was himself.