Fools, these Mortals

Prospero Chapter Three

Having summoned magic to heal the boy, Setebos watched most intently pressing against the corners of my skull, squatting in my consciousness to watch the newest guest in my cave home.

Interesting, Setebos whispered ever so softly that I almost missed it.

I wanted to shove the being back a little to relieve my light headedness, but I was powerless to overcome Setebos's effect. We were in constant stalemate, neither able to win victory against the other. Once the boy had gone through the portal, I made my way back to the main chamber with a heavier head. A wash of indifference was the one retort from Setebos as he returned to his idle slumber. However, his obsessive eyes on the links between the boy and Iago had interested him, and so me. Setebos was my prisoner; anything that concerned the god concerned myself for the safety of the island. Though spying on Iago, it was clear as crystal that he was truly bound to protect the son of our enemy until his death. As the son of Illyrian, Setebos knew whose vow concerned what, and as he was trapped in my head, so did I.

Pushing Caliban's freakish body to the front, in the cavern hall, I had a moment of spare privacy. "Dare I ask for the effects to Iago for not filling his vow?" I asked Setebos once Caliban had limped out of earshot.

Setebos sighed, tired with boredom. It won't kill him, if that's what you're wanting to know.

"And the boy? Why not stand in the way of my magic as you've done before?" My mind twitched at Setebos's jerk at my question. "Why allow the boy to leave through my portal when you wanted him to stay? Or even, why did you help make my tempest more powerful?"

I was hard pressed to get Setebos from interfering in my enchantments. To even move insignificant objects out of my way was his version of rebellion to annoy me. But by spying on the distant horizon last night and finding the sails of Alonso's colours, Setebos wavered his resistance. He obeyed, somewhat willingly, to move aside as I busied with my tempest spell, his shackles loosened by obedience. As if he was bored at first to comply and wanted to exercise its capabilities, another voice echoed from my mind and another vibration powered through my cold hands. As the tempest grew, for once in a dozen years, Setebos and I were in sync. Such power and thought combined that had rendered me hungover from last night's delirious events. Once the ships caught fire and after sending Antonio and Ariel out, Setebos had excused himself from the forefront of my mind. Something was brewing within my subconscious where he was ruler, shut away from the rest of my own brain that I could never unlock his secrets. Or plans. All prisoners plotted their escape, even that of a god.

How I choose to wield my magic is of no concern to you, magician, Setebos warned.

Never had Setebos willingly catered to my will, until the boy Sebastien came in bleeding, almost adopting a doting affection in how Setebos removed himself for my magic to heal him. With the boy's eyes closed, I ignited one of my crystals that targeted the body, a gift from mother. The crystal had grown in magma and was powerful, by the rate it had healed the boy. Closing off the crystal, the warm rock soothed my throat where my three crystals were kept in a chain. A habit of most fae to keep their crystals close. The taste of relief came from Setebos once the boy was taking well to my healing. Throughout the seasons, Setebos and I fought over my body and magical autonomy. The fact that the boy changed his attitude sent flare after flare to find the reason why the god had such an interest in one mortal. The son of my enemy, at that.

"If you don't like it, why not find a new host." I teased most often on overcast days, tightening my mind to squeeze the god for a moment.

Setebos sat up straighter once I relaxed, giving me his full attention. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to be rid of your internal and insufferable presence. Having reached an impasse, our two minds calmed as I skulked back to the cave entrance where my oldest friend waited and my prisoner returned to his corner of private captivity.