14. Oubliette

Time had never meant much to her.

She'd asked for time once, and struggle, and death, all in an effort to see what true life meant. She thought she understood enough to know what to expect. She thought she could direct her destiny, just as she directed the knife into her stomach. She thought that by bringing herself low she could understand better and rise above even the few limitations of a supernatural being.

She thought that's what she'd meant to do.

She couldn't always remember.

She remembered death bursting in her stomach, clawing up her body, shoving its hands over her eyes, so heavy she couldn't fight it off. Had she wanted to fight it off? Had she regretted anything before death?

She regretted not looking back at him.

Who?

The sky was red, not as red as the blood she vaguely remembered, bright on a white dress. It was so hot even the wind was burnt, picking up charred remains from the battlefield. A few soldiers struggled towards her. From her great height, she could only make out the flashes of their weapons.

"Feinne! I see some frog-spawn's still trying to fight. Let's see some of those pretty lights!"

The voice, something in the voice made her furious. Power gathered within her. There was something wrong with the voice. There was something wrong with her. Everything was wrong. Power burst in her stomach, devouring her assailants in a wave of glittering light, and for a moment, she expected to see blood running down her body. But - no - she couldn't bleed. Had she ever?

What was wrong with the voice?

What was wrong with her?

She knew something was amiss. She never communicated with the other World Eaters, as they did with each other, but she felt their rancor.

She saw cities, but only quickly. At the Master's bidding, she destroyed them.

Why was she following the Master?

The world masters had given her to him, as they had Thuris and Raksha. What was she that she could be given away?

A World Eater.

What was she that she should devour others?

She had wanted to be mortal.

What? A mortal? When?

"Raksha, get moving! That was too close. Kill them or I'll break you like a doll!"

Battle raged far below. She ignored it, trying to think. Why had she wanted to be one of these, a flitting, soft bug she could kill indifferently? Why struggle?

She'd wanted to struggle...it was the only way to learn...

Learn? What did a World Eater have to learn?

"Try your luck, Thuris! Let's see what you can do."

Moaning softly, she tried to take herself away from the battle, back to the darkness she remembered. Darkness and...green, green as she'd only seen before cities were destroyed. Running water, unchoked by bodies. People, not mortals, supernatural beings like herself...

"Feinne! Show them how to do it!"

She'd held a knife, somehow she'd once had hands. She'd had a soft stomach, easily destroyed with one puncture-

"Hear me, Feinne!"

Pain lashed across her, as if from a fiery whip. Something was wrong with him. What? How would she know?

"Hah! Going to be stubborn, are you? We'll see."

The Master had a name. What was it?

Then, the images not fully impacting her consciousness, she could see a vast horde of soldiers bearing down upon her, more than she'd ever seen. Behind them, she could see her Master spurring them on, driving them towards her, forcing her to obey him. Mortals. She didn't need distractions. Energy blossomed inside of her.

Through the blast of furious power, she remembered. His name was Gig.

The battles continued, again and again and again. None stood out in her mind, and she had no way of gauging how much time elapsed between them. But as she felt the world go silent around her, she eventually realized she no longer heard Gig's voice, nor felt the other World Eaters as anything beyond faint, distant presences. Curious, she searched for Gig's soul; it was far away and slumbering. What had happened? The desert wind beat against her, warm as a blanket, and her questions were covered by sleep.

She dreamed circuitous, unexplained images of gardens and people, a dark woman in a white dress, the cold feel of a dagger, the warmth of someone's love. Once, only once, she thought she heard Gig's voice crying out, but he didn't call her, so she slept on. In a shifting, uneasy half-awareness, she knew mortals were around her, some who even attempted to kill her. Her body reacted more than her mind did, sending out warning shots, enough to keep the mortals away, but she did not truly strike. Striking would mean waking completely, and she felt she almost understood her questions when she was asleep. Mortals struggled and fought to live out the brief time allotted to them. That was strength, not a travesty.

Life and anger surged back to her when the king, the little mortal, dared call upon her, breaking her dreams and any measure of understanding she might have gained. She blasted away the city that had grown beside her with barely any effort. Still the human called out to her, claiming to harness her power. Little thing, alive for only a few seconds; her power swallowed him.

Confusion added to her anger. Mortals, why were they still attacking her? Weren't their lives difficult enough? They didn't need a World Eater to make their lives harder - Struggling - She had to live as they did - She had to struggle, to understand their pain - She had to die - He wouldn't kill her - He wouldn't kill her-

"Feinne!"

There was something wrong with his voice. Who was he? Her power lashed out, snaring all it could reach. Who was he? Why wouldn't he kill her? He loved her-

"It's me!"

It's me, it's me, what did that mean? What was identity? Didn't death break the bonds of the past life? Past life-?

"Bitch!"

It was wrong. He didn't love her. He wasn't Vigilance and she wasn't Resilience. He was prey.

Heat blasted against her, hotter than the desert wind, and Gig - was it Gig? was it Vigilance? was it a mortal? - bore down on her. Her stomach broke like glass, power and light flooding out. Images flashed in her mind, overlapping and fading into each other like flames. She'd asked Vigilance to kill her. He hadn't. She'd been determined to live the life of a mortal, to experience their terrible sorrow. For her sin, she'd become a creature who made their sorrows grow. For her sin, he'd finally killed her.

What use was forgiveness to a damned creature? Still, she asked for it.