APHX-1147: RAJA / NIJEL

Raja of the sun,

Nijel of the moon.

A conqueror, and a king.

This two-headed Trajen was once a normal Aphex with ambitions greater than his body could handle. He dreamed of being a hero, a leader, but he was too afraid; Born with a fragile bed-ridden body, he turned to his friends to bring to him tales of the outside world, far from his bleached hospital room. One returned to him with candles galore, another with papers and pens, and lastly one with a single glass shell, in which the water's call resounded deep and baritone.

The candles he decorated the windowsill of the room with, enjoying the way each color burned brightly in luminous fumes. He drew absentmindedly on the paper, and found himself drawn to the cryptic symbols that lifted off it's pages, burning a final acceptance on his frail body. Finding that he had no control over newfound powers, he stumbled back and forth, only to trip over the sheets he had yet to draw on. Having doodled on two, the ink on both pages' reached out to him, clawing at his skin, his flesh, his soul.

In his frenzy, he scrambled as his right leg surged out from underneath him again— candles spilling hot wax on his skin as they extinguished themselves. His flailing arms caught onto the glass shell, and it smashed into pieces at his feet. Afraid and horrified of what the doctors might think had happened, he clawed his way out of the room, trails of colorful wax and shredded paper pieces smearing bright marks over the floors he passed. A few hours after his escape, news was published of a missing inpatient.

But that had been so long ago, had it not, Raja?  Nijel's eyes glowed brightly as they peered into Raja's absentminded gaze, their shared tails fanning the water behind them as they dove deeper into the abyssal waters.What is it? Do you regret what you did?  

Raja's head tilted, their inner turmoil visible to Nijel as he stared onwards into the blackish nothingness below. I do not. Raja's voice echoed into Nijel's head, I do not regret giving up what held me back.

Now this... he was familiar with. Raja, the one who lead Nijel onwards in the dissociative daze from which they were born. Raja, the teacher and leader, Raja, the only other they've ever known. 

They swam onwards in silence, with little to their name but a silvery rock they carried around in their fins. Nijel did not remember what exactly Raja kept it for, but they had a feeling it was important. After all, Raja used it often, bouncing it back and forth to keep himself occupied under the guise of "coordination training", as he himself put it. Nijel finally spoke after a few more metres, nudging the other's shining metal jaw with the tip of his snout.

I don't regret it, either.