In Death
Beyonders one-shots

Disclaimer: The Beyonders series and its characters belong to Brandon Mull. It is awesome and I love it!

Warning: Spoilers, if you haven't read the whole series yet.

A/N: This chapter takes place in the Sacrifice chapter of the third book.

Self-sacrificing Liar

The explosion of the orantium sphere shook the walls around them. Debris fell from the low dark ceiling, some only pellets of mineral, others large enough to cause a good concussion. Tark peeked through his arms that served as a vulnerable shield. The way had cleared for them to go further into the mine however it left them with rubble to still clear out in order to pass. And time was of the essence here.

He glanced to his side to see Ferrin dusting himself off a few yards away. The displacer's form was lit by the glowing seaweed around his wrist. The musician noticed Ferrin's missing piece of flesh on his neck. He thought about the alternate dimension that protected displacers whenever they were torn apart. In a matter of seconds, his thoughts had shifted to what happens to the displaced flesh whenever they died, eventually leading to him thinking that the only way for Galloran to know Ferrin is dead would be to see the bleeding piece that he had with him, and for Lord Jason to find the ear bleeding.

Eventually, Tark wondered how Lord Jason would react to that ear leaking with blood. The musician knew that his savior cared deeply about Ferrin, despite the lies that the displacer have once fooled him with. He knew Lord Jason trusted Ferrin deeper than any of them do; his trust in the traitor was probably infinite even. Though Tark would never voice it out, he thought that Lord Jason's faith in the displacer was both noble and foolish.

"What?" Ferrin asked and Tark realized he has been staring.

"Nothing." The musician shook his head and trudged forward into the newly-blasted opening. Ferrin walked next to him, tools in hand.

"You were staring at me. There's no way it was nothing. You still don't trust me?" The displacer asked with a surprisingly casual tone.

"I trust you enough to let you come with me, right? Besides, you wouldn't risk your life if you were to only betray me in the end," Tark responded, digging his way through the rubble that was once part of a small, impeding opening. Haven't they already met an understanding before going through the mines together? There was no sense in pulling out such a topic again.

"You have no idea how far I'm willing to go for a lot of things… I might if it meant I had more vital information to learn," Ferrin pointed out, helping the musician in clearing their way. "However I doubt there's anything more important than stopping you break through these barriers any further."

Tark paused and stared at the displacer, his words successful in injecting doubt into his mind once more. Ferrin mirrored him. They already had this conversation at the entrance of these mines. Or something akin to it anyway. "Surely you won't do such an act," he said, returning to clearing the rubble away.

"What makes you say that?" Ferrin asked, not moving.

"If you planned to, you would have already done so, correct?"

"What if I only wanted to see how far exactly you could get? What if I'm only here to see how far this mine goes so I can slay you when you reach the end in order to protect it?"

Tark looked at Ferrin. A tense, silent air surrounded them. "You test my trust in you, Ferrin," he said. "Why do you do that?"

"It's alien to be given trust," the displacer mumbled with a shrug. He returned to clearing the rubble and the tension vanished. "For us displacers anyway…"

"But already you've been trusted so much by important people. You said so yourself by the opening. By Lord Jason, Rachel and Galloran. Even I trust you—"

"Only to an extent," Ferrin interrupted, turning his head to look at him. "Correct?"

"True, however it's enough to trust you with my life. And such a deep kind of trust is something I'm rarely willing to give, and never to just anyone, too."

"Why believe in me, then? What did I do to earn your trust?" Ferrin asked. They were reaching the end of the debris-laden part of the tunnel. Far ahead was a passage of more darkness.

"I don't know. You tell me," Tark said. Ferrin was silent. After a while, he started answering the question truthfully. "You told me Lord Jason believed in your word, even after knowing what you really are and what you're capable of. You've shown us how sincere you are to help us in our cause, too. Galloran entrusted you a fourth of the army to take down the East Keep. Even Lady Rachel speaks highly of you."

"So you only have faith in me because of what others think of me and because of what I told you?" the displacer clarified as they made their way down the tunnel further. Up ahead, another wall could be seen blocking their path, giving them only a crack small enough for a man of Aram's size to pass through—the tiny Aram anyway.

"Partly, yes. But also partly, I have faith in you because you have made the right choices. You have had every opportunity to betray us yet you still chose to side with us. You know of secrets you can use to earn pardon from Maldor however here you are, walking with me to sacrifice your life to destroy Felrook," Tark explained. They had reached the wall. He inspected it and peeked through it, reaching his arm inside to see how deep it goes. "We should probably start working through this."

Ferrin nodded. He was silent as he handed the musician a spare pickax. The wall had gone through deeper than they originally thought. The displacer volunteered to check exactly how much farther they had to pick their way through it by pulling off his arm. Tark debated with him for a while, telling him they didn't have time to check, but in the end, Ferrin won the argument. "Seems we've only made it halfway through," Ferrin said as he replaced his arm.

"I have three more orantium spheres," Tark said as he pulled one out.

Ferrin looked at the walls surrounding them. With the dim lighting from the seaweed around their wrists, he could see that there were more cracks in the walls here, but most of them were only so thin and little. "If we use the orantium, the tunnel might cave in," he said, pointing to the cracks. "Look, there are fissures through the walls here. The explosion might clear us a way but then it could very well be our deaths, too."

"Then we backtrack far enough to still shoot the orantium with an arrow," Tark suggested. "And then we dig again."

Ferrin agreed with the idea. They cut off a smaller piece of the glowing seaweed and placed it in the middle of the tunnel right next to the sphere with the help of the displacer's detachable arm. Tark took aim with the crossbow Ferrin had pointed at him upon his arrival in the cave. The displacer gave him directions about how high he should aim since there would be no wind to carry the arrow. Tark did as the other suggested.

He took the shot and they immediately took cover. The cave shook around them. For a second time, blinding white light flashed all throughout the cave. As Ferrin predicted, most of the area where they'd been advancing through collapsed. Tark watched as boulders fell heavily on the path they cleared. The ceiling of the caves that kept fell seemed to get alarmingly closer. Tark looked up just in time to see that a huge portion of what they'd been under was falling.

He shouted a warning to Ferrin and at the same time, his body moved on its own. He watched the displacer turn to look for the source of danger. Just as he turned, Tark jumped towards him, tackling him. For a split second, he saw a tiny spark of fear behind the surprise and sudden vigilance in Ferrin's eyes when he saw him jumping towards him.

The displacer rolled backwards once with the musician in the small safe space. His back hit the cave floor hard, skin scraped against the rough surface and the air was knocked out of his chest. Everything was suddenly just static in his ears. It took a few seconds for the blackness in his vision to recede and for the air to come rushing back in his system.

Fine rubble from the imploding cave entered his eye. Ferrin put a hand up to it to rub away the dust. As he did, the cave became quieter and he noticed that there was warmth constantly emitting from above him. When he could finally regain his vision through the one eye that he had left, Ferrin was surprised to see that Tark was on top of him, on all fours, with dust visibly sticking onto his body and clothes.

The musician had his head hung over Ferrin's, his hair almost reaching the displacer's face. Ferrin briefly wondered how Tark smelled up close. Yeah, if only he had his nose on right now, he'd know the answer to his questions. Would there be a mannish musk emitting from him like Aram? A strong yet gentle scent like Drake's? Or would he smell like liquor?

He knew for a fact that the man kept a flask of liquor with him all the time. Ferrin has seen the nights when Tark would quietly take a chug from it whenever he thought no one was watching. From what he's gathered, Tark regretted being the only survivor of the Giddy Nine. Twice, he's tried to end his life to his own accord—once in Hartenham, the second in another attempt to die in the waterfalls where the rest of his fellow musicians had all died. No, Ferrin thought, maybe Tark has tried many more times, but was only waiting for the right chance this whole time. Well, this was his chance, wasn't it? By sacrificing himself in the destruction of Felrook, he'll probably finally find inner peace. He can finally say that he had done his part and he's happy in doing it. Tark can finally be happy and at peace.

When the musician opened his eyes, their gazes met and Ferrin felt a silly little warmth bubbling from inside of him. Tark protected him, even using his own body to shield him from the barrage of debris. No one has ever done anything like that for Ferrin before. Sure, Jason has tried to protect him before too, but not without making sure that he himself was safe first, or without checking for another way to save him without compromising himself too badly. Tark was a little different. How different, though?

Maybe it was because there was no other choice that presented itself, unlike whenever Jason saved him. Maybe Tark realized that Ferrin was too important for their part to succeed. Maybe he just acted on his own without really thinking about it. Maybe he's been looking at Tark all wrong this whole time. Many other maybe's entered Ferrin's mind as he pulled himself up to his feet.

Tark pulled away from him, bits of rocks falling from his back and hair. They brushed off dust from their clothes while an awkward sort of silence enveloped them.

"Thank you," Ferrin said, glancing at his friend. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away. The awkwardness was growing.

"You're welcome," Tark replied. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding Ferrin's eyes when he raised the glowing seaweed into the air and squinted to see forward. Ferrin used the chance to scan his protector's body. Tark seemed generally unharmed, not from what Ferrin can see anyways.

Without speaking any more of what had happened, the two continued onwards, both collecting tools and remaking a path once more. They reached one more point in the cave where they needed to use orantium again. Tark wanted to hurry, Ferrin wanted to be careful.

"If we're too careless, we could risk a cave-in," Ferrin argued.

"We're already losing enough time as it is. I want to finish this as quickly as possible. It's been hours since I started on this task. Who knows what's happening outside? What if Maldor's troops have already arrived and are warring with Galloran's host?" Tark countered.

"You're upset that it's not going the way you want it. But I know these walls are as frail as those where we last used orantium. I don't want to jeopardize our situation."

"Your stalling is jeopardizing it!" Tark said as he watched Ferrin grind his teeth.

In the end, the two agreed to use the equipment they brought instead to dig a tunnel through the mineral walls. When a barrier finally came which they can't dig their equipment through, they decided to use orantium. Not long after, they continued digging and tunneling towards the heart of the mines. Occasionally, they found writings on the walls—which turn out to be warnings that told them to turn back, as Ferrin had read. The pair ignored them.

Finally it came to the point where the hard, gold-like alloy stood in pillars before them, piercing the ceiling and floor and each standing with obvious toughness. Beyond them, the walls were replaced with white stuff. Since neither of them could fit through the spaces, Ferrin volunteered to use his arms to tear off the 'white stuff', which turned out to be some protective gel. It was probably an aged version of that goo they used in the buckets for the orantium way back when they left Mianamon.

Tark offered him water. Ferrin accepted. There was an awkward sort of silence as Ferrin gulped down a gentle stream of water from the canteen. Tark offered to get more since it seemed that the excavation would take a little longer. He came back and they drank a little more. After a while, the arms had already found an end to the white stuff.

They agreed to use orantium, both knowing in the backs of their minds that this might be the end of it. "You wanna get your arms back first?" Tark had asked.

"It's all right. I think it's fitting that I meet my end in pieces," Ferrin said and he counted all the parts he's missing—his nose, an eye, an artery in his arm, a piece of his neck, both arms, and an ear. Tark gave a nod and turned to aim the arrow to the orantium.

Ferrin called to him before he could fire. "Tark," he said and the musician looked at him. "I appreciate you defending me earlier when Naman tried to put me in confinement. Thank you for that."

"I did not wish to see you being rid of the chance to watch Felrook fall from the opening of a tent. And I personally didn't think you deserve to be suspected so much that you have to be detained for what you may or may not yet do. And… it was unfair for Naman to judge you so quickly because of your race. I confess I did the same to you before, too, but now, I think you're worthy of anyone's trust," Tark said. Ferrin replied to that with a smile.

The displacer nodded then and they both prepared themselves for an explosion that might very well be the end of their lives and the start of a new page for Lyrian.

The last thing they saw was a white light far brighter than any orantium sphere has emitted, and they last felt the warmth that came with it. And in each of their minds, their last thoughts were of the friends who sacrificed their lives, and of the friends who still continued to fight against the oppressor that was Maldor, of the cause they stood for, of the Lyrian that all wished to see—a free Lyrian where all could live without fear and without oppression…

And as the white light engulfed them both, Ferrin the displacer and Tark the musician had both finally found peace. And their only regrets were that they could have bidden better goodbyes to their friends.