Before You Enter The Maze…
Disclaimer – Gensomaden Saiyuki belongs solely to Minekura Kazuya and whoever else may share its legal rights. This story was written without permission; my only purpose is to pay tribute and entertain other fans. No profit has been made, or will ever be made, with it.
The poem The Silent Scream belongs solely to Nightdweller.
Warning – For homosexual themes, foul language, sexual harassment, racial bigotry (human vs. youkai), violence, torture, and rape. If any of the above offends or disturbs you, be mature and hit your back button instead of hitting me. My concern with your sensibility ends where my freedom of speech begins.
Author's Note – The hero's mythic journey has a somber version: the nekyia—from the Greek vekuia (vekus, corpse), after the eleventh chant of Homer's Odyssey. It describes a descent into darkness, a plunge into the unconscious, a peregrination through Death's realms. Sanctuary is the last installment of a trilogy that follows this premise and if you have not read The Maze and its sequel The Anthill, what comes next will make very little sense to you.
My deepest, sincerest thanks to my betas Willow, Procyon and Car Jack, and a special bow to dear Softwelshrain, who helped me with this final version.
The Maze III: Sanctuary
Until the sanctuary so sought after,
Presents itself to me.
The sanctuary to peace of mind.
The sanctuary away from this psychotic dream
Which kills me slowly.
That I would be liberated,
I embrace it wholly,
Only to discover myself naked
In a wilderness made of thorns,
In search of a key
To a door
Which holds no room…
The Silent Scream, by Nightdweller
Chapter 1
The harsh afternoon sun beat against the canvas stretched over the back of the wagon, offering no respite to its occupant. Lying on his back, Gojyo drifted in and out of consciousness, knowing very little of his surroundings. There were voices sometimes. Voices that inscrutably whispered away in demanding or angry or soothing tones.
They did not matter, the voices.
What mattered was the agony that his body had become.
And the heat that made him whimper in exhaustion.
The voices…
The voices did not.
They vanished as soon as the tide of blurry images washed over him.
Unlike the pain.
Unlike the heat.
Those he would feel even in his dreams.
He let out a pitiful moan when yet another cause for distress registered: Thirst. Soaring Thirst that would continue to grow, until he was left writhing in need, until he was Need itself.
"Water," he begged, trying to push himself up. Some unyielding strength held him in place and he snarled in warning. There was water nearby, he could sense it. There was water and he Needed it now.
The unexpected damp touch on his forehead made him buck, suddenly energized. He struck then, mouth wide open, managing to sink his teeth into the source of moisture. He gnawed at it to extract every drop of water he could, but it was not enough, not nearly enough.
Whatever it was that he had caught was struggling to get free. Frustrated, he tightened his bite, tasting salt and a thicker, bittersweet fluid that he gulped down without any hesitation. He was so absorbed by it that it took him a while to notice a second, much more tempting option to quench his thirst. A colder thing brushed tantalizingly against his cheek, and there was water in there. Fresh water. Nostrils flaring, he let go of his now still prey and turned to it, chewing desperately at metal before instincts took over. Water. At last. He keened in oblivious bliss while he drank.
As the Thirst receded, he started to calm down, floating in a warm, fuzzy limbo. Water was still offered to him at intervals and he sipped it, licking lazily at everything that came in contact with his lips. He spread his legs wide when he felt a soft caress on his hair. He wanted that touch on his lower body.
Staring up at the hovering shadow, he lifted his hips in invitation.
A voice intruded then—distant, faint. But, this time, the words had a real meaning. "…going on in there, Hakkai?"
"Nothing, Goku," a second, closer voice answered.
"Nothing? Your hand is bleeding!"
"My fault, really. I … cooling him … wasn't careful. He bit the cloth … got to my wrist."
"…bit you? Like a dog?"
"…an accident."
"Sanzo won't…"
"Sanzo doesn't…"
Sanzo.
Gojyo squeezed his eyes shut.
No, he did not want to think. He did not want to remember.
He did not want to be…
"Gojyo?"
He welcomed the heat.
And the pain.
The all-encompassing, all-forgiving pain.
The lips that brushed against his were incommensurably gentle. "Sleep tight, my love."
Yes, sleep.
The dreams would be coming for him soon, very soon.
But for now…
For now he wanted the Nothingness devoid of any questions.
