The Greek people of Lost Jerusalem had a myth about the Dioscuri, also known as Castor and Pollux or Gemini, the inseparable twins. But only one was immortal, while the other was mortal. Because the immortal one couldn't live without the other one, he chose to share his immortality with the other so that he too could live. I read about this myth at the Yuriev Institute with my brothers. At the time, I thought that it seemed to be a pointless fairy tale, something everyone aspired to but could never achieve. I thought that it was noble to believe a human would give up immortality for someone else, but I thought I knew that humans were too corrupt to ever be able to actually do that. I guess I thought a lot of things back then, as an innocent, naïve child. But I was wrong in the end because, despite what I said, despite my complete lack of faith in people, someone did give up immortality for me. My other half, my twin brother, Albedo.
Somehow, with strength I'm not sure I could ever possess, he managed to break free of the stranglehold that the U-DO waves had put on him. He chose a freeman's death to a servant's life. He chose my life over his own. He died so that I could live, because he knew that as long as he was alive I would dwell in the past, in what could have been and would have been right now. But if he's dead, I have to accept that there is no way to bring back the past, and now I have to move on, because my last tie has been severed. Now, all that's left is a path to the future.
I might not ever fully understand what possessed my twin to do that for me. I thought he was too far gone in U-DO's lies to be selfless. I gave up on him, and I even lead an attack on him. I mean, his presence was an annoyance to us all, he seemed to make tormenting me a game, but I never wanted him dead. I never, in a million years, thought that he could and would do that for me. And that only makes me feel worse about ignoring him for the past fourteen years, about believing that he could never be saved. And what makes it all the more bittersweet is that I know he wouldn't want me to feel that way. If he knew, he'd feel guilty that he'd managed to hurt me.
After all of this, I can't help but wonder how that Castor felt when his brother gave up immortality so that they could be together, so that he wouldn't have to keep suffering. I'm sure it was just as bittersweet as it is for me, the elation that the suffering of being separated is gone tainted by the irrevocable price that was paid.
Looking back at everything he's done, I can see a warped logic and caring in it. When he could have completely destroyed so many, he left us, left me, a chance to make things right. He must have fought so hard against the seductive pull of U-DO. At the time, I was so angry with him. What he put us through, especially MOMO, hurt us deeper than anything else. But it also pushed us above and beyond anything we'd ever done before. So, perhaps, in an odd way, it was for the better. I feel guilty even thinking it, but sometimes you have to suffer the harsh rainstorm to see the rainbow on the other end. And then you end up realizing that the rainstorm was worth it in the end.
Think about it. Without his testing us, we wouldn't have been strong enough to survive Proto Merkabah. He could have killed us too many times, when we were weak or vulnerable, but he didn't. His taunts made me use my power, and slowly I'm beginning to see that using it doesn't destroy me, doesn't taint me. Some of it was U-DO bringing forth the petty revenges he'd probably harbored as a child, but I can't believe that he actually would have carried them out.
The Durandal has docked with the Kukai Foundation. Everyone keeps asking about Gaignun, but I don't know where he is. It seems my brothers just keep disappearing. I ran out here, to a small, and very private, park that I planted. I needed some time alone, and Mary and Shelley, the only two besides Gaignun who know it exists, know better than to disturb me when I'm here, because this is where I come to reflect and be alone. The plants are a wide variety of tough plants from almost all of the known inhabited worlds. I'm even lucky enough to have some plants from Ariadne, which disappeared without a trace, a mystery that still baffles the Federation.
Overhead, the clouds are dark and gray. A 'breeze' is blowing, although I know it is only a simulation for the park. I'm glad that the random weather for today is so gloomy; it seems as though it should be. And if it were too cheerful, I would feel guilty about feeling so down when there was life to enjoy and celebrate.
I sit beneath a tree, one I planted almost as soon as the Kukai Foundation was done being constructed. It's grown tall, so high it almost clears the fence that surrounds this place. This tree is a lot like the ones that used to grown around the Yuriev Institute. Perhaps I'm crazy to have something to help me remember the Institute, but when I see these I don't think of the building. I think of the most important people who made up 'home', the people that were within in that building. Albedo, Gaignun and Sakura. We were four kids, convinced we were going to take the worlds by storm. Nothing was going to stand in our way, or so we thought. But Fate doesn't like to be challenged, especially by kids. And as morbid as it sounds, I can't help wondering which of us is going next, Gaignun or me?
Beside me sits a small shovel, the end still covered in fresh earth. On my other side is a small hole, about the size of my head. In the hole I put a photograph. There are only two people in it, him and me. We're standing beneath the counterpart of this tree in the Institute, grinning stupidly at the camera Gaignun was wielding. Out of the picture, next to Gaignun, stands Sakura. Between us are six small packages, two from Gaignun, one from me, one from Albedo, and two from Sakura and her mother. Birthday presents. Yes, even as U.R.T.V.s we celebrated trivial things such as birthdays. We didn't used to, but when Sakura told us about them while we were in the Encephalon one day, we absolutely had to try it. So we U.R.T.V.s made up different birthdays for ourselves, and the four of us would celebrate together, and sometimes Juli Mizrahi would join us. We brothers never had much money, but we always got little things that we knew the others would like.
That day was one of my favorites. It was our 'first' birthday, at least, the first Albedo and I celebrated, although technically it was our tenth. Gaignun, Albedo and I weren't entirely sure how to conduct a birthday, but Sakura had explained it to us in the Encephalon, and whenever we'd forgotten something she'd try to mime it to us, resulting in a rather interesting game of charades, during which we'd pretend we'd have no idea what she meant, and think up ridiculous explanations. That ended with all four of us, even the solemn Gaignun, sitting on the ground in giggles (or silently laughing, in Sakura's case), amused by our own antics. How innocent and carefree we were.
Those times are gone now. And this picture, of which I have a double in a silver frame on my bedside table, is a representation of those dead times, and of a dead brother. Slowly, as I read about in a book once, I threw the first fistful of dirt on the 'casket', as was traditional for the family members to do. With that tradition done, I stood up with the shovel, and I started to refill the hole, never once shedding a tear. There would time for crying later, after my task was done. It was this resolve to keep my sorrow under wraps until I was done that had gotten me through these years, and it had kept me from crying in front of the others.
The last shovel full of dirt was placed, and I patted the soil down, until it was smooth. Then I reached out to a small, tied cross that lay on the tree. I dug a fist-sized hole, about six inches into the ground, and placed it in as a marker of his grave. After I had steadied the cross, I stepped back to look at my work.
"Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," I whispered. I didn't remember much from the Bible of Lost Jerusalem, but those words had always stuck in my mind. We all went back to what we came from in the end, no matter human or Realian, UR.T.V. or something else entirely. And Albedo had gone back to the place he'd come from, finding a small peace.
And as I stared at the small grave, which so much like the one Albedo had dug for me all those years ago, my resolve crumbled. I fell down on my knees; salty tears leaked from my closed eyes, tracing cool paths down my cheeks. I didn't sob aloud, just knelt on his grave, the tears I'd been holding in for so long pouring out.
'What's wrong, Rubedo? You look like you've lost your best friend.' His voice floated through my head mockingly. He was right; I had lost my best friend, my other half. And somehow, I was going to have to keep moving on. Because there were too many people left that needed me, that were depending on me. MOMO, whom I had promised Sakura that I would look after. Shelley and Mary, who were expecting me to fix the problems that Gaignun's absence were causing. Shion and Ziggy and chaos, who expected that I was going to keep going on their quest without breaking stride. The Kukai Foundation and Durandal members, who were my responsibility. But right here, right now, I could be who I really was – a lost, confused person, who was somewhere between a child, and adolescent and an adult.
Soon enough my tears had dried, and I stood up, my emotions temporarily sedated. I knew that when the night finally fell, I would have my old nightmares and flashbacks haunting my sleep, dancing tauntingly before my eyelids. But for now, I could feel a sense of peace because I had properly placed his spirit to rest. I'm sure he would have been delighted with the gesture.
At the entrance of the small park I paused, and felt the overwhelming urge to look back. I did, and for a moment I could have sworn that I saw him standing over the grave, all traces of the battle erased, an angelic smile on his face. Then the vision faded, and all that was left was a desolate patch of earth with a crude cross. Biting back a fresh wave of tears, I walked through the gate, and back into the world of responsibility and cruelty.
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While I was taking a Greek/Roman Mythology class the similarity of Rubedo and Albedo versus Castor and Pollux struck me. Since there are so many more mythology references strewn about Xenosaga, I can't help thinking that the similarity might have been intentional. Anyway, enough about the story. I'm sure you would like to press the little button below that will submit a review.
