Many Years Ago...

Camden Town has always been an interesting place. The tourists and street performers were a sight. But you couldn’t ignore the mass markets that snaked through the main area by the Underground. The streets were usually quite crowded throughout the whole day and through the night. There was just so much to see that you couldn’t do it all in one day. Living there was always a different story. Most shops sold the same old thing and buying street food had its downsides. You had to love people to live right in the middle of it. Because you were constantly surrounded by them. Luckily for Psyche and her family, they didn’t mind the crowds. Her parents started out as street performers, which lead her to do the same growing up. Fun little tricks and music, anything they could think of. Every day was new. New faces, new entertainment. She enjoyed it. But that changed as she grew up. She still wanted to entertain, but not like this. She wanted to do it in a better environment. And with her father pushing her interest into wrestling, she decided that that would be how she’d do it. How she’d continue to entertain but in a better way. Or so she thought when she first started.

Camden Town had a lot of hidden gems. The horse stables weren’t hidden, but they were an underground gem in the area. Like the winding maze of the stables, there were other places to find. Other spots that people rarely ventured into. Places where people could do more… illegal activities.

Down an alley where most people didn’t go, there was a door. Just a single metal door at the very end. Nothing was written around it; no signs at all. But if you entered the door, with a key of course, you’d find yourself in a large room. Nothing was in it other than a second door across from the other. The door led to a series of stairs, leading underground. The stairs led to two separate corridors. The left leading to a few single rooms. The right led to more rooms, but also one last door at the very end. This door opened into a large room. The dark, orangey lighting made it seem rather ominous and intimidating. In the center of the room was a wrestling ring, old and extremely used. When something was going on, the room was filled with random men and women, all surrounding the ring. Most stood, keeping about 7 feet around the sides. Some others would sit at tables that were randomly placed throughout the room. It had a bar or restaurant feel, but without the proper conditions. A service area was there, but only to hand out drinks from coolers that were stored back there.

Tonight was a bit different. Tonight was a sort of tryout night. A way to bring in new talent. Which was why Psyche was there. She was looking to become part of the “roster”. But she was nervous. Her training was minimal, but the guy she had found to train her seemed to think she was good. And he told her to meet him at this place. So she did. She searched around the room, trying to find him, but only saw a crowd of mostly men around one side of the ring. Two men were inside, squaring off. Psyche bit her lip as she stepped closer to the crowd, watching them get to it.

The combat before the crowd’s eyes provoked much reaction. Some were choosing sides, others were trash talking the fighters in the ring, and the rest were standing in awe at what was taking place before them. The tension levels were high everywhere, but at the same time, everyone was there for the same reason, so a silent unity was spread amongst the occupants. As the action intensified, Psyche decided to navigate her way through the crowd some more, opting for a better view of the fighting. In a crowd mixed with men and women of all backgrounds, people rarely paid attention to who they were standing with. However, the random gentleman that was standing next to Psyche was looking at her with his peripheral vision, paying close attention to her reactions. She could sense this, and glanced over and up slightly. He was young, his hair was somewhat spiked awkwardly, and as she took a second glance, he looked at her again, smiling.

???: "Are you enjoying yourself?"

She shrugged slightly, awkwardly keeping her eyes away from him.

Psyche: "Uhh… Yeah mate. It’s interesting…"

She wasn’t sure what else to say. She wasn’t used to people talking to her in a crowd. She was always the weird girl in school. So someone noticing her from the get go was a bit surprising to her. Apparently he didn’t see her as being weird, as she caught his attention quickly.

???: "My name is Cyrus, by the way, Cyrus Riddle."

Cyrus extended his hand to her. She looked at his hand, then back up to him. She took it and shook.

Psyche: "I’m Psyche. Devyne."

She smiled slightly, seeing that he wasn’t talking to her for any sort of gain. She had begun to notice that sort of thing over the years. He alternated his attention from her to the action taking place as he spoke again.

Cyrus: "Pleasure to meet you. Say, what sparked your interest in coming here exactly?"

She turned her head to the ring, looking at the match going on. The two men were attacking each other brutally in the ring. She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment nervously before looking back at him.

Psyche: "I was… training with someone. Called Ian. He told me to meet him here, but I have yet to see him."

She looked around at the crowd, scanning for his face. But he wasn’t there. Amidst the riotous reactions of the crowd, Cyrus leaned down and spoke closer to her so that his voice wasn’t blocked by the surrounding noise.

Cyrus: "In between fights would be your best time to look. Too much commotion right now. Usually gets like this during the nights where new people come in."

She nodded, understanding. He was right. There was way too much going on, but she still had that weird feeling that he wouldn’t show. Luckily, Cyrus had made the effort to talk to her. It made her feel a slight bit reassured. She then realized what he had said. Usually… as if he’d been there before. She pushed herself up a bit on her toes so she could get closer to him to hear her.

Psyche: "You said usually. Have you been around for a while then, mate?"

He looked at her and nodded his head.

Cyrus: "Yeah, about six months on and off. I try to make the most of my visits when I come here, so I’ll show up a few days in a row to see who is around. Admittedly, the first night I came, I couldn’t bring myself to get in there. Wasn’t sure that I was ready, but you just have to do it, I suppose. I’m assuming you are going to mix it up in there tonight?"

She looked at him, confused.

Psyche: "So wait… do you not live in London, then? And mix it up? How?"

He looked hesitant to answer, but in this place, he kept no secrets.

Cyrus: "I travel back and forth between here and America. Family and job circumstances mainly. Now, when I say “mix it up,” I mean are you going to get in there and fight tonight?"

She nodded, smiling at his first answer.

Psyche: "Oh I love America. I go there a lot with my dad."

She paused for a second, looking back to the ring. This place was intimidating for sure.

Psyche: "I was… thinking about it. But I don’t know. It looks very… rough…"

Cyrus: "Well, yeah, naturally it is. But, you have to remember a couple of things. Number one, it’s for sport, so we aren’t going to have you fight to the death. Number two, things change when you are about to fight. Your entire mentality becomes different. As odd as it may be, we are like family here, and we want the best for you if this is what you choose to do. There’s no pressure, just encouragement."

He paused for a moment as one of the fighters ate a hard punch to the face, causing the crowd to react with resounding “oooh.”

Cyrus: "Personally, I’m interested to see you get in there. I think you will shatter many images."

She smiled slightly. He had no idea who she was, yet he had such confidence in her already. She could have been terrible, for all he knew.

Psyche: "Will you be getting into the ring, then?"

Cyrus: "I plan on it soon, maybe even after this match is done. I’ve just come back from America this morning, I waited all day for this."

The gleam of excitement in his eyes as he spoke indicated a passion for the combat, one that he radiated without much effort at all.

Psyche: "So… how old are you anyway? You can’t be that much older than myself."

Cyrus: "I’m twenty one actually. How about yourself?"

Psyche: "I’m only eighteen. Feel a bit young, now."

Interestingly enough, eighteen year old Psyche was a bit different than the Psyche of current times. For one, her hair was dark brown, long, and straight. Not to mention a much smaller… frame.

Psyche: "What do you think about this match, then? Who do you think will win?"

Cyrus appeared indifferent for a few seconds as he watched the two, more thank likely sizing them up to give her a proper answer.

Cyrus: "The bloke with the long hair more than likely. He has better form, keeps his guard up nicely, and is a lot faster. Do you have a preference?"

She looked at the two men in the ring, watching their moves. She pointed to the opposite one.

Psyche: "That one."

Just as she said it, the one she predicted laid out the long haired one with an unexpected spinning back fist. He went for the pin, winning the match. Psyche smiled and looked over to Cyrus. He looked back at her, impressed.

Cyrus: "You point and he wins almost immediately, you must be a good luck charm. Nicely done, Miss Devyne."

Psyche: "I noticed his arm tense up just before he did it. Long haired guy didn’t catch it, so he didn’t know to get out of the way. It’s the little things, yeah?"

Cyrus smiled at her, nodding his head.

Cyrus: "Absolutely, that’s a great attention to detail. You have the awareness down brilliantly. Your first night here and you’re teaching me things."

She laughed. Years of practically studying professional wrestling taught her that, honestly. But she liked to pretend that she just knew. The two men left the ring finally, leaving it open for the next two fighters. Psyche turned to look around again, hoping to see Ian. Still, he was nowhere in sight. She turned back to Cyrus.

Psyche: "You think you’ll get in?"

Cyrus looked around for a few seconds, seeing many doing the same as he. So, he peeled off his shirt and kept it in his hand.

Cyrus: "Yeah, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt."

He gave her a wink as he walked up to the ring and laid his shirt on the apron, climbing in methodically and leaning into one corner, waiting for someone else to step in. Psyche smiled, watching him in the ring. Finally, another male stepped in, getting himself revved up. She was excited to see what Cyrus could do in the ring. She watched attentively, noticing a change in his demeanor as he looked toward his opponent. His eyes honed in on the person standing across from him, with a hint of fury in his expression, but mostly calm.

A bell rang to signal the start, and as Cyrus opponent began to square up, Cyrus walked calmly to the center to meet him, licking his lips in the process. As his opponent looked at him confused, Cyrus stood there, but when the first punch was thrown, Cyrus grabbed the guy’s arm and threw him over his shoulder and to the ground, connecting with forceful elbows to the side of the opponent’s head. One of the impacts caught the guy’s nose, busting it open, but not long after the referee called for Cyrus to stop. It didn’t take long, nor did Cyrus expend much energy, but he was efficient in what he did, and very dangerous looking in the process.

Once Cyrus stood up, he closed his eyes for a few moments, then proceeded to retrieve his shirt from the ring apron and put it on after climbing out. With a smile on his face, he made his way back to where Psyche was standing. Psyche stood there stunned. Her mouth slightly open. She stared at Cyrus, trying to say words. What she knew was that if Cyrus was a regular here, she was in trouble. He stood next to her again, his eyebrows raised.

Cyrus: "Well, what did you think?"

Psyche: "Uhh… I don’t…"

She paused, looking around the room for a moment. They were already calling for new fighters to come in.

Psyche: "I really don’t know this is for me…"

She said it as she looked towards the exit. Without letting him speak, she started to leave. But she was instantly pulled back by someone pulling the back of her jacket. Her eyes widened as she was pushed into the ring. She looked down at the ground at who had done it. Ian looked up at her, smirking.

Ian: "Get to it, darling."

Psyche stood up, nervousness taking over now. She removed her jacket and tossed it aside for the moment. Her jeans and tank top were all she wore now. Another girl got into the ring with her. Psyche wasn’t too sure what to do. She turned back to Ian.

Psyche: "I don’t think I can do this, mate…"

The bell rang and the other girl attacked Psyche while her back was to her. She took full advantage of it. Psyche got down on a knee, taking the punches the other woman threw at her. The ref made her back up. Psyche got up, looking over to the girl. As if by the snap of fingers, Psyche’s whole demeanor changed. Nerves were quickly gone and her eyes focused on the other girl. Much like Cyrus, she turned everything else off around her. She lunged for the other girl, taking her legs out from under her and causing the back of her head to smack the mat. Without actively thinking about it, she flipped forward and mounted the girl to the mat. Even with her smaller frame, she was powerful in her strikes as she connected with alternate lefts and rights before grabbing the girl’s hair and slamming the back of her head on the mat with as much force as she could exert. Eventually, Psyche saw nothing but red as she used her right hand to hold the girl’s head up and her left to throw hard jabs to the face. Within seconds, the referee pulled Psyche off and declared her the winner. She stood there with her arm raised by the referee, her expression back to what it was before the match. She dropped her hand and grabbed her jacket, jumping out of the ring to where Cyrus stood.

Psyche: "So…?"

He looked at her with an expression of shock on his face.

Cyrus: "That… was… fucking incredible!"

The shock turned to elation as he nodded his head in approval vigorously.

Cyrus: "Honestly, I’m blown away, love. That was exceptional. You… you are going to be something special, even more so than you are already."

She blushed and smiled, keeping her eyes on him. Behind her, Ian had come up, wrapping his arms around her.

Ian: "Great job, darling! I told you you’d do amazing!"

Psyche’s face fell a bit as her attention moved from Cyrus to Ian. She turned her body out of his hug and took one step back, a bit closer to Cyrus without thinking.

Psyche: "Thanks Ian. I definitely learned everything I know from you."

Ian had never been one to get that close to her other than when they were in the ring, so the sudden affection was a bit off to her. She smiled politely at him. Cyrus looked back and forth at the two as their interaction took place. Once Psyche smiled politely, Cyrus extended his hand to Ian.

Cyrus: "Well then, nice work on the teaching, mate. She did phenomenal in there. And to think, she was ready to be off out."

Ian looked down at Psyche, tilting his head to the side.

Ian: "Nice to meet you, mate. And you were going to leave? Is that where you were headed when I pulled you into the ring, then?"

Psyche nodded.

Psyche: "I didn’t think I was going to do very well. I saw Cyrus’ match and I got intimidated."

Ian advanced towards her a bit, wrapping his large arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer towards him again, sort of away from Cyrus. Psyche tried to snake out of his grasp, but he held her there.

Ian: "Never get intimidated, darling. You’re fantastic, yeah?"

Cyrus, feeling out of turn for saying she was fit to leave, stepped closer to the two, addressing Ian, especially after noticing Psyche’s discomfort.

Cyrus: "Listen, it wasn't my place. But, you should be a bit less forceful in how you put your hands on her. She's more than allowed to be intimidated here at first. It takes some getting used to."

Ian raised a brow to Cyrus as he stared at him. Psyche put a hand up towards Cyrus but addressed them both.

Psyche: "It’s fine… it’s not a big deal."

Ian: "What did you say, mate?"

Ian had ignored Psyche completely. He pressed forward, but now Psyche was pushing him back.

Psyche: "Ian. Oi. That’s enough. You’re just acting weird. Just getting a little too touchy, mate."

Ian glared down at her.

Ian: "I can touch you however I want."

Psyche: "Woah… woah. No you can’t… You’ve only been teaching me a few months. That doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on me in any way other than in the ring."

Ian: "Like hell…"

He went to grab at her again. This time, Cyrus stepped between them, grabbing Ian's arm with one hand and placing his other around the man's throat. People were beginning to watch, but only the three could make out Cyrus’ words to Ian.

Cyrus: "You'd be better off heeding her wishes. You don't know me, but I can figure out everything about you within minutes, yeah? Another hand on her, and I'll make sure the next touch you receive is through a tombstone, are we clear?"

The sudden change in Cyrus even surprised himself, but some situations were not to be tolerated. The calm in his tone coupled with the fire in his eyes were enough to let anyone know he was serious. Ian backed off, throwing his hands up.

Ian: "Whatever, man. We’re done, girlie. Don’t come crawling back to me when this place drops you. They’ll probably keep you if you sleep around like you probably do normally, you slag. Starting with him, yeah? Fuck off."

He dropped his arm, but only two bring one hand back up. The back of his hand faced them with two fingers up, giving off the ‘fuck off’ gesture.

Cyrus: "Yeah, use those to play with your cunt, mate. Don't let me see you again, because that'll be the moment you stop breathing."

Cyrus turned his back to Ian and faced Psyche, the fire in his eyes quickly turning to compassion and concern.

Cyrus: "Are you okay?"

She nodded, smiling slightly.

Psyche: "Yeah. I really appreciate what you did there. That was really sweet."

Cyrus: "Anytime at all. Sorry if I may have startled you any. I'm not usually overtaken like that, I'm rather composed. Guess we all have our triggers."

She shook her head.

Psyche: "No, no. Not at all. That was awesome. Honestly. It’s nice to have someone actually have my back for once."

Cyrus: "Well then, you can count on me. That being said, I'll keep a lookout for you if you want. I'll teach you anything you want, and I won't be a prick either, so that's a plus."

He let out a slight laugh at himself, hoping it'd make her feel more at ease in his company. She smiled, nodding.

Psyche: "That would be amazing. Thank you, Cyrus. It means a lot."

Cyrus: "It's no problem at all, I'll be honored to. All I expect is honesty and that you don't put too much pressure on yourself. You do this for you, nobody else. Additionally, anything needed outside of this world, I'll be there if you need me. I'm a fierce friend, it's just my style."

"After all these years, we finally step in the ring together… one on one. After working together in the underground scene and dominating the challengers separately there, we get to face each other. It’s funny, really. Even back then, we never met in the ring. We never faced each other in any way, really. But now, we’ve been in battle royals together, but never truly went after one another. It’s interesting, isn’t it? That nobody ever really noticed? They never noticed that we kind of stayed away from each other for the most part. I would have thought it was obvious, but I guess it wasn’t, really."

"But we kept our promise to each other for as long as we could. Kept our lives separate so that we could grow individually. But secrets only last for so long. You can only keep a promise for so long. And I thank you every day for being the one that would break that promise. I needed a friend and you were the first to come to my aid. I am eternally grateful for that. "

"But unfortunately, we were thrown into this match against each other. Well… somewhat unfortunately. You could see this as a very negative thing. Two secret friends going against each other in a brutal match. Or… we could see it as a test of sorts. To see who comes out on top. You know what I’m capable of and I know the same of you. You taught me many things. But here’s my chance to bring back some of the things I tried to forget. Some of my old habits that I didn’t want to bring with me. This is a test. And I’m excited to see the outcome no matter what it is."

"You may see the fact that Bryan is going to be referee in this match as an advantage for me. But I don’t see it as that at all. In fact, I see it more as a challenge. While I know Bryan can be very good at what he does, I also know that the two of you have personal issues that need to be hashed out. That being the case means this won’t necessarily be a fair fight. And even if I am to plead that case, my wishes will not be met. I know this. And I accept it. In a sense, I have to work harder to make sure that things are fair between us."

"I will try as hard as I can against you, Cyrus. We will put on a show for the fans, exactly as we used to train for. We will show everyone just how amazing we can be in that ring. I’m excited to step in the ring with you. And when we do get in there, I will try my hardest to beat you in a fair fight. And as I said… that will be harder to make happen than anything else. But I will give my everything. I won’t hold back, as I know you won’t either. We know how each other works. There may have been changes over the years, but I still know the mind of Cyrus Riddle."

"And after all is said and done, our promise to my father will be kept. No matter what happens, you will always be like family to me. No matter what Bryan feels towards you, I will still remain neutral to it all. And know… I will never be pulled between you both. This is a warning to you and Bryan. If either of you try to keep me from the other, I will break my promise and leave you both. Keep me out of your fights. Keep things fair to me."

"I’ll see you on Thursday, Cyrus."

Psyche had a lot of matches that went on during her time in the underground scene. The more matches she had, the better she got. Once she felt she was at a good enough point, she invited her father to see her in matches. He became her biggest fan. When he was able to, he would come see her fight. He would cheer for her and let her know that she was doing everything right. His support made her more inclined to work harder.

And that’s exactly what she did.

After a particularly difficult match that ended in a well deserved win, Psyche changed and made her way to where her dad sat. Cyrus sat across from him. The two had cheered for her the whole match, helping her pull through. She smiled at them both. They were in deep conversation, not realizing she had gotten there.

Psyche: "You two done falling in love with each other?"

She joked with them, smirking. She stood with her arms on her hips. Her dad instantly stood up, walking around the table to hug her.

Mr. Devyne: "Pea! That was amazing! You did a great job out there."

Psyche laughed, shaking her head.

Psyche: "Don’t call me that here, dad. What if someone hears you?"

She gave him a cheeky glare when she pulled away from the hug. She looked over to Cyrus.

Psyche: "What were you two talking about, hm?"

Cyrus: "The finer points in life...pea."

Cyrus chuckled a bit, thoroughly enjoying his time. He was very proud to be there, and was really establishing a great friendship with Psyche’s father. Psyche threw her glare at Cyrus now.

Psyche: "Don’t you start, Cy. I swear.. if you start that shite while we train, I’m coming after you, mate."

Mr. Devyne: "Psyche… No swearing."

She shook her head, smiling. She was going to be stuck in this whole thing with them forever now.

Cyrus: "Should hear her in training. Bloody mouth like a sailor. I'll have to push some buttons so you can see that temper when she thinks nobody is paying attention, sir."

Psyche’s mouth dropped.

Psyche: "Cyrus!"

Her father looked at her, giving her a stern look.

Mr. Devyne: "I may need to remove you from this place, young lady."

The look went from stern to a smirk. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her tight. He looked back to Cyrus.

Mr. Devyne: "And Cyrus… you know better. You can call me Francis."

Psyche: "He’d probably be fine with ‘dad’ too, knowing him…"

She thought about her words for a second, blushing.

Psyche: "Oh Gods…. not like that!"

Cyrus laughed.

Cyrus: "It's fine, don't over think what you said, I'll call him whatever he wishes me to, love."

Cyrus turned his attention toward Francis.

Cyrus: "If you want me to refer to you as Francis, I will. I always get nervous about first names for some reason. And she's more than fine in training, she's actually very well mannered, so no worries."

Francis smiled, looking at Psyche.

Francis: "That’s my girl."

He kissed her on her temple. He looked back at Cyrus.

Francis: "Honestly, Cyrus, whatever you feel most comfortable calling me, I’m okay with. You’ve done a lot for my daughter over the time she’s been here. And that means a lot. You’re part of the family, as I see it."

He smiled at Cyrus, tapping his shoulder lightly. Cyrus smiled and nodded.

Cyrus: "Then dad it is, because you've definitely been a father to me. Plus, it makes Psyche get this awkward expression on her face with blush, and that makes me smile too."

Psyche bit the inside of her cheek, blushing again. She moved away from her dad and moved over to Cyrus, punching him in the shoulder.

Psyche: "Twat."

Francis: "I’d trade you for Psyche any day, Cyrus. She has a dirty mouth. I can’t condone that."

He joked with them. He now put his arm around Cyrus.

Psyche: "Oh great! Now I lost my bloody father to you!"

Cyrus shrugged.

Cyrus: "Well, if you toned the foul language down and spoke clean like me, I'm sure he'd bring you back into our family."

He winked at Psyche She threw her head back, rolling her eyes, clearly frustrated.

Psyche: "Our family? My Gods. You’re taking over! I can’t even compete with you either. You’re the perfect son."

She shook her head playfully.

Francis: "Sweetheart… you’re always welcome back into the family. Cyrus can marry you back in."

He laughed again, causing Psyche to, yet again, blush. Even Cyrus turned red at the statement.

Cyrus: "Well, you know, she is the perfect addition to our dynasty, dad."

Francis: "A family of wrestlers. What I’ve always wanted. So when’s the wedding? How are you going to pop the question?"

Cyrus: "It'll be a complete surprise for her, but I'll let you know once it's planned."

Cyrus smirked toward Psyche, watching her as she tried to hide her face.

Psyche: "Jesus Christ…"

She put her hand over her face, not letting them see her continued blush. She couldn’t help but blush around him. Francis laughed once again, moving back over to Psyche. He wrapped his arms around her.

Francis: "Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll always keep you around. Always."

He then grabbed the two of them, pushing them close together. He stood back, looking at them as if he was about to give them a lecture.

Francis: "Now I need you both to promise me something."

Psyche raised a brow, looking from her dad to Cyrus.

Psyche: "What?"

Francis: "Promise!"

Cyrus: "What are we promising exactly?"

Francis: "Alright… I want you both to promise that no matter what, you’ll stick together. I’m talking to you both as my child and as someone like one to me. Promise you’ll look after each other and take care of each other. Promise you’ll rush to help each other inside and outside the ring. Every day life. Promise me all of that."

He looked at them, serious as he’s ever been. He didn’t care what their relationship was. This wasn’t only for them if they were actually together, but for them as sort of brother and sister.

Cyrus: "Whether the day is bright or the night is at its darkest, I promise I will live up to that."

Cyrus looked at Psyche, smiling. She looked at him, smiling back. She nodded at her father.

Psyche: "Of course, daddy. Every day."

Francis smiled at the two, nodding.

Francis: "Then we’re all on the same page. Now, Cyrus. Let’s see you in that ring, yeah? I have to cheer for my favourite son."

He winked at Cyrus, a huge smile across his face. Psyche shook her head and looked over to Cyrus. He was instilled with a confidence as he looked to Psyche and Francis.

Cyrus: "Sure thing, dad. It's time to turn it up a notch."

As Cyrus stepped away, Psyche rolled her eyes with a smirk across her lips.

Psyche: "Prat."

She said jokingly as her father and herself moved closer to the ring to watch Cyrus’ match and cheer him on.