I was back home again. The dark towers and the twisting steel maze awaited me. Deirdre walked briskly through the streets. I wondered why we were rushing away from the main crowd of Wraiths. Some of the dead looked at us in a suspicious manner as we pushed through them. She was going faster and I hustled to keep up.
"What? What the hell are we rushing for?" I spoke, somewhat annoyed by the lack of explanation.
She only moved forward, not answering. The din of the city only increased. We were not moving away from the din, but getting closer to it. We were at the Gates of Stygia. It was something out a Fantasy movie. A large, crafted metal wall and two gigantic metal doors that stood open a crack to let hundreds of wraiths through. Nothing in the mortal world could compare. I did not think how many souls were sacrificed to make it. That would be too horrible to imagine.
I quirked, "Why are we going outside the gates?"
She turned and looked at me. "There are too many ears within the gates. That is why."
The bundles of wraiths that came in was almost like a tide. You had to fight to get through. No one moved out of the way. Most were self-absorbed, concentrating on their own cares to be bothered with the likes of another. Some were in chains, screaming. They were off to the forges. Not all of them were oblivion tainted. Not all of them criminals. Some had just been simply unlucky. The ends justified the means.
I was shunted out of my stupor when one of them grabbed me with incredible strength. "Please! Don't let them take me! I'll do anything! Don't let them take me!" He nearly pulled me to the ground in his desperation, and I tried to pry him off, but I couldn't find the strength. Deirdre turned and looked, in horror as well. Emotion was not beyond her. The slave was on his knees, still holding onto me tight. He begged words of forgiveness, pleas and other rambling nonsense. The slaver yanked his chains hard, sending him backwards into the fray, screaming. He lay on the ground for a few moments before he was dragged into the swarm of dead entering and exiting Stygia.
We stood silent for a moment. Acceptance was always part of the condition to the forges. I did not think my blade was a soul, or my chair was a soul. I had never seen the real humanity of it before. When you see a slave in chains, you do not think that he is a good soul. You always thought of his or her villainy. Having a good soul smelted was hard to justify. But it was the sacrifice of a few that helped save the many. I turned to look at Deidre. She had a very far away look on her face. I did not know why, but maybe she was thinking the same way as I did. Perhaps she thought her death in battle was a better fate than being sent off the forges. The wraiths around us came and went. There was no evidence of what had happened. The wraiths coming and going, paid no mind to us. They just shifted in between us like wind blowing through trees. There were words, but they weren't talking to people. They looked at the other dead, but they were not looking at anyone. They were absorbed in their death and their connections. There was no compassion left in them. I didn't want to stay here any longer.
"Lets keep moving." I had to shout over the din almost.
Deidre nodded and turned back towards the gates, moving through the restless dead and out beyond the great city of Stygia, to the plains of the shadow lands.
***
The plains here were desolate and expansive. Outside of Stygia, one could get lost if they were not trained in the landscape. A few knotted and dead trees sprouted from the pale brown soil. Off in the distance, I could hear the storms crackling over the Tempest. Discord was not far away, and she reminded me of that.
"So," I let out a false breath, "What was it that you needed to tell me?"
She leaned against a black tree and looked at me. "Your name is not Adrian. It can't be. Looking through most of the records without a last name is almost impossible. But since you were a cop, I could look into it a bit easier. There are about five Adrian's on the cities police force. And they are all alive. So, your name cannot be Adrian. Or you aren't really a cop."
I looked down at the dirt plain and cross my arms. "We all tell ourselves little things. Little lies. When I woke up here, I had the name Adrian echoing in my head. I had flashes of me in a police uniform. That's it. The rest, was all a fairy tale so I wouldn't be like the others we 'saw' back there."
Deidre nodded, "And nothing else?"
He shook his head, "Nothing else."
"Normally, your shadow knows who you are. Sometimes it steals your memory. Or the shock of your death was so horrific you forget everything. But you still lived. Your emotional resonance hangs on you." She shrugs. "There is a way to access it, but it will cost you."
I groaned. She was making deals again. I hated owing people things. "What will it cost me?"
"Everything."
"Everything?"
She nodded. "Let me tell you a little story. There was a group of Wraiths that developed an extraordinary ability. They called it Mnemosynis. It allowed them to dredge up the memories of Wraiths. Sorrow, horror, rage, anything. It was exceedingly powerful. Any enemy that confronted them, they brought forth horrifying mortal memories. Dead feelings returned. Warriors cowed in battle because of nostalgia. They made Wraiths go insane from what they had left unresolved, or things they would never experience again. They could move memories around and create such intense emotional onslaught that they could make beings weak simply by it."
"And how did it end?" I inquired. I already knew the answer to that, and what it probably would cost me.
"It ended by every one of them being executed, or sent to the forges. Any wraith who was found using this power or having been touched by it was exterminated. There are precious few who know it now. All hiding out there." She motioned around the barren plains. "What will it cost you? Your existence. You will no longer be an infiltrator. You will become anathema, and put into chains and sent to the forges. That is the price for knowing." She sighed and rubbed her wrist gently. They glowed slightly red, like dying embers, she looked at me.
Well, it was my mission. What was the point going on for an eternity worrying about it? Who would know my 'crime'? It was more criminal than existing in this world without any knowledge of why you were here. I nodded to her. "I know what I could lose. I also know what I could gain." I sighed, rubbing my hands along my face. "I'll do it. Show me the way."
She nodded, "Move up along the plains. The seer is a fair distance from here."
I nodded and trudged up along the plains. There was a pain in my temples then. I didn't know why. It kept getting more and more piercing with each step. My legs felt like lead weights and I began to falter. I tried to open my mouth, but it refused to respond. Eventually, my body collapsed, hitting the soil hard. The last sound I heard was a loud ringing that only kept getting louder and louder. My vision began to fade and there was darkness, and only a ringing.
***
"You're home already? I thought you had work."
"I got off early."
"On a Friday?"
"I told you last week I was taking Friday off."
"Oh. I see."
"Why won't you let me go in there?"
Voices at first. Then the blackness cleared away. Everything was a faded picture show. I saw me, wearing a jacket. On the back of it was written 'FBI'. I didn't recognize myself. He looked totally different than I did in the Shadow lands. But I knew it was me, somehow. I was standing there.
The scene was in a living room. My significant other was blocking the way to another room. She had long red hair and brown eyes. She looked scared. The person in the FBI uniform was tall and slightly muscular. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked angry, as if he knew something already. The house was picturesque, almost in perfect order. We must have been in the suburbs somewhere. It could have been outside the city, but I could not tell for sure. The curtains were drawn.
"It's a mess; you wouldn't want to see it." She stammered, hesitantly. She was lying.
"Let me in there Alyson." 'I' growled fiercely, pushing past her. The next room contained a TV, a glass table littered with some magazines and a couch. Lying on the couch, was…me? I looked like I did in the shadow lands. I had black hair, pale skin and a Goatee. My eyes were blue this time around. I figured that I would find out where my piercing gaze came from soon enough. But I still didn't know who I was.
"Hello Adrian." The one with the goatee said. So I was the cop. But why did I look like this man?
"Eric, what are you doing in my house?" Adrian started forward towards him.
"Alyson invited me over for a little fun." Eric looked to Adrian nonchalantly, a smirk on his face. Adrian narrowed his eyes, anger streaking over his features. "Aw, you didn't know?" Alyson stood carefully between the two men, sensing the tension in between them.
Adrian looked betrayed at Alyson. "You…why?"
She did not respond in her guilt, just averting her eyes from Adrian's. She still put herself between them, fearing violence. Adrian looked angry enough for it. His hands clenched and unclenched like he wanted to kill Eric on the spot, but he didn't. He pulled back, away from Alyson and Eric.
"I'm not going to forget this, you fucking asshole." He pointed a finger at Eric and turned, walking towards the door angrily.
"Hey, Adrian." Eric called out. Alyson tried feebly to try to hold Eric back, but Eric got to Adrian first. He had a police baton in hand and cracked it against Eric's temple as hard as he could. The memory did not fade to blackness.
Alyson was crying, and cursing at him. Adrian pushed her back, "He was going to come between us. You and I both knew he would! I couldn't let him do that."
"Go to hell you son of a bitch! I'm going to tell them, I'm going to tell them…" Her voice died down to a whimper and she began sobbing.
Adrian looked at Alyson; he looked pained for a moment. "I wish you didn't say that…I really wish you didn't..." He raised the police baton and brought it down. I closed my eyes, but the scene was still in front of me. And I prayed. For the first time here, I prayed.
***
Eric had put Adrian in the back of the trunk of his car, along with Alyson. He was driving. It was so long. He looked suspicious and turned his head to look back in the rearview mirror. He drove for hours, until the city passed on into the country side. And he drove for hours until it was past midnight. He looked at the clock several times. The green digital display clicked. I could only guess what was going to happen next.
Eric drove into a country lake on a gravel road, it crunched beneath the weight of the car. He looked down at the two battered bodies. Adrian opened his eyes and murmured something. He was alive. Alyson's badly beaten face remained motionless. She was dead. The soft hum of the crickets crescendo created a crescendo in the distance. The country air smelled vaguely sweet. Eric slammed the trunk shut and put the car into neutral. He slowly rolled it into the lake. The lights were still on. As it sank below the water, the lights ghosted in the water, shining like a beacon to warn the living. Eventually, the sharp spark signaled that they had shorted out. The trunk was the last thing to go, water lapping at the red metal, before dipping below the surface. A few air bubbles and then the night was silent again. No air. It was dark. I couldn't breath.
There was another car parked in the brush off to the side. He had been planning this. He whistled as he headed over, unlocking the car with a sharp beep sound. He opened the door and twisted the key, driving down the road. He was tired, so tired. He had driven too long. Too long. His eyes fluttered and the memory went dark. His eyes opened again and he was heading into the tree line. It was dark again. His eyes opened. He had hit a tree. It was dark again. His eyes opened. He was in a hospital bed. Noise. They said permanent vegetable. I could hear them. It was dark again. He opened his eyes. Noise. The sounds of the machines were shutting down. It was dark again.
***
It was black. No noise. Only whispers. Whispering. Deirdre. "I knew it from the moment I first saw you. I saw your memories without you knowing. I saw. I could have told them. But somehow, you came over different. You are neither Adrian nor are you Eric. For some reason, you are more the man you killed than the man you were. You are justice through the eyes of the damned. You are in enough torment knowing. Now, open your eyes."
***
Green for Guilt. Green for Envy. Those were what my eyes were. In some mix of fate, the memory of the man that I killed and the man that I once was, intertwined. I was a killer who hid in the ranks of the wronged. They would not understand. I had felt their pain. What I did was horrible, and they could not comprehend it. How could I be different than any other murderer? I could not answer that, even for myself. All I know is that Deirdre was right. It had cost me everything. My existence, my state of mind, even my soul. Was there hope for redemption? I didn't know. All I could do was open my eyes, and see.
"What? What the hell are we rushing for?" I spoke, somewhat annoyed by the lack of explanation.
She only moved forward, not answering. The din of the city only increased. We were not moving away from the din, but getting closer to it. We were at the Gates of Stygia. It was something out a Fantasy movie. A large, crafted metal wall and two gigantic metal doors that stood open a crack to let hundreds of wraiths through. Nothing in the mortal world could compare. I did not think how many souls were sacrificed to make it. That would be too horrible to imagine.
I quirked, "Why are we going outside the gates?"
She turned and looked at me. "There are too many ears within the gates. That is why."
The bundles of wraiths that came in was almost like a tide. You had to fight to get through. No one moved out of the way. Most were self-absorbed, concentrating on their own cares to be bothered with the likes of another. Some were in chains, screaming. They were off to the forges. Not all of them were oblivion tainted. Not all of them criminals. Some had just been simply unlucky. The ends justified the means.
I was shunted out of my stupor when one of them grabbed me with incredible strength. "Please! Don't let them take me! I'll do anything! Don't let them take me!" He nearly pulled me to the ground in his desperation, and I tried to pry him off, but I couldn't find the strength. Deirdre turned and looked, in horror as well. Emotion was not beyond her. The slave was on his knees, still holding onto me tight. He begged words of forgiveness, pleas and other rambling nonsense. The slaver yanked his chains hard, sending him backwards into the fray, screaming. He lay on the ground for a few moments before he was dragged into the swarm of dead entering and exiting Stygia.
We stood silent for a moment. Acceptance was always part of the condition to the forges. I did not think my blade was a soul, or my chair was a soul. I had never seen the real humanity of it before. When you see a slave in chains, you do not think that he is a good soul. You always thought of his or her villainy. Having a good soul smelted was hard to justify. But it was the sacrifice of a few that helped save the many. I turned to look at Deidre. She had a very far away look on her face. I did not know why, but maybe she was thinking the same way as I did. Perhaps she thought her death in battle was a better fate than being sent off the forges. The wraiths around us came and went. There was no evidence of what had happened. The wraiths coming and going, paid no mind to us. They just shifted in between us like wind blowing through trees. There were words, but they weren't talking to people. They looked at the other dead, but they were not looking at anyone. They were absorbed in their death and their connections. There was no compassion left in them. I didn't want to stay here any longer.
"Lets keep moving." I had to shout over the din almost.
Deidre nodded and turned back towards the gates, moving through the restless dead and out beyond the great city of Stygia, to the plains of the shadow lands.
***
The plains here were desolate and expansive. Outside of Stygia, one could get lost if they were not trained in the landscape. A few knotted and dead trees sprouted from the pale brown soil. Off in the distance, I could hear the storms crackling over the Tempest. Discord was not far away, and she reminded me of that.
"So," I let out a false breath, "What was it that you needed to tell me?"
She leaned against a black tree and looked at me. "Your name is not Adrian. It can't be. Looking through most of the records without a last name is almost impossible. But since you were a cop, I could look into it a bit easier. There are about five Adrian's on the cities police force. And they are all alive. So, your name cannot be Adrian. Or you aren't really a cop."
I looked down at the dirt plain and cross my arms. "We all tell ourselves little things. Little lies. When I woke up here, I had the name Adrian echoing in my head. I had flashes of me in a police uniform. That's it. The rest, was all a fairy tale so I wouldn't be like the others we 'saw' back there."
Deidre nodded, "And nothing else?"
He shook his head, "Nothing else."
"Normally, your shadow knows who you are. Sometimes it steals your memory. Or the shock of your death was so horrific you forget everything. But you still lived. Your emotional resonance hangs on you." She shrugs. "There is a way to access it, but it will cost you."
I groaned. She was making deals again. I hated owing people things. "What will it cost me?"
"Everything."
"Everything?"
She nodded. "Let me tell you a little story. There was a group of Wraiths that developed an extraordinary ability. They called it Mnemosynis. It allowed them to dredge up the memories of Wraiths. Sorrow, horror, rage, anything. It was exceedingly powerful. Any enemy that confronted them, they brought forth horrifying mortal memories. Dead feelings returned. Warriors cowed in battle because of nostalgia. They made Wraiths go insane from what they had left unresolved, or things they would never experience again. They could move memories around and create such intense emotional onslaught that they could make beings weak simply by it."
"And how did it end?" I inquired. I already knew the answer to that, and what it probably would cost me.
"It ended by every one of them being executed, or sent to the forges. Any wraith who was found using this power or having been touched by it was exterminated. There are precious few who know it now. All hiding out there." She motioned around the barren plains. "What will it cost you? Your existence. You will no longer be an infiltrator. You will become anathema, and put into chains and sent to the forges. That is the price for knowing." She sighed and rubbed her wrist gently. They glowed slightly red, like dying embers, she looked at me.
Well, it was my mission. What was the point going on for an eternity worrying about it? Who would know my 'crime'? It was more criminal than existing in this world without any knowledge of why you were here. I nodded to her. "I know what I could lose. I also know what I could gain." I sighed, rubbing my hands along my face. "I'll do it. Show me the way."
She nodded, "Move up along the plains. The seer is a fair distance from here."
I nodded and trudged up along the plains. There was a pain in my temples then. I didn't know why. It kept getting more and more piercing with each step. My legs felt like lead weights and I began to falter. I tried to open my mouth, but it refused to respond. Eventually, my body collapsed, hitting the soil hard. The last sound I heard was a loud ringing that only kept getting louder and louder. My vision began to fade and there was darkness, and only a ringing.
***
"You're home already? I thought you had work."
"I got off early."
"On a Friday?"
"I told you last week I was taking Friday off."
"Oh. I see."
"Why won't you let me go in there?"
Voices at first. Then the blackness cleared away. Everything was a faded picture show. I saw me, wearing a jacket. On the back of it was written 'FBI'. I didn't recognize myself. He looked totally different than I did in the Shadow lands. But I knew it was me, somehow. I was standing there.
The scene was in a living room. My significant other was blocking the way to another room. She had long red hair and brown eyes. She looked scared. The person in the FBI uniform was tall and slightly muscular. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked angry, as if he knew something already. The house was picturesque, almost in perfect order. We must have been in the suburbs somewhere. It could have been outside the city, but I could not tell for sure. The curtains were drawn.
"It's a mess; you wouldn't want to see it." She stammered, hesitantly. She was lying.
"Let me in there Alyson." 'I' growled fiercely, pushing past her. The next room contained a TV, a glass table littered with some magazines and a couch. Lying on the couch, was…me? I looked like I did in the shadow lands. I had black hair, pale skin and a Goatee. My eyes were blue this time around. I figured that I would find out where my piercing gaze came from soon enough. But I still didn't know who I was.
"Hello Adrian." The one with the goatee said. So I was the cop. But why did I look like this man?
"Eric, what are you doing in my house?" Adrian started forward towards him.
"Alyson invited me over for a little fun." Eric looked to Adrian nonchalantly, a smirk on his face. Adrian narrowed his eyes, anger streaking over his features. "Aw, you didn't know?" Alyson stood carefully between the two men, sensing the tension in between them.
Adrian looked betrayed at Alyson. "You…why?"
She did not respond in her guilt, just averting her eyes from Adrian's. She still put herself between them, fearing violence. Adrian looked angry enough for it. His hands clenched and unclenched like he wanted to kill Eric on the spot, but he didn't. He pulled back, away from Alyson and Eric.
"I'm not going to forget this, you fucking asshole." He pointed a finger at Eric and turned, walking towards the door angrily.
"Hey, Adrian." Eric called out. Alyson tried feebly to try to hold Eric back, but Eric got to Adrian first. He had a police baton in hand and cracked it against Eric's temple as hard as he could. The memory did not fade to blackness.
Alyson was crying, and cursing at him. Adrian pushed her back, "He was going to come between us. You and I both knew he would! I couldn't let him do that."
"Go to hell you son of a bitch! I'm going to tell them, I'm going to tell them…" Her voice died down to a whimper and she began sobbing.
Adrian looked at Alyson; he looked pained for a moment. "I wish you didn't say that…I really wish you didn't..." He raised the police baton and brought it down. I closed my eyes, but the scene was still in front of me. And I prayed. For the first time here, I prayed.
***
Eric had put Adrian in the back of the trunk of his car, along with Alyson. He was driving. It was so long. He looked suspicious and turned his head to look back in the rearview mirror. He drove for hours, until the city passed on into the country side. And he drove for hours until it was past midnight. He looked at the clock several times. The green digital display clicked. I could only guess what was going to happen next.
Eric drove into a country lake on a gravel road, it crunched beneath the weight of the car. He looked down at the two battered bodies. Adrian opened his eyes and murmured something. He was alive. Alyson's badly beaten face remained motionless. She was dead. The soft hum of the crickets crescendo created a crescendo in the distance. The country air smelled vaguely sweet. Eric slammed the trunk shut and put the car into neutral. He slowly rolled it into the lake. The lights were still on. As it sank below the water, the lights ghosted in the water, shining like a beacon to warn the living. Eventually, the sharp spark signaled that they had shorted out. The trunk was the last thing to go, water lapping at the red metal, before dipping below the surface. A few air bubbles and then the night was silent again. No air. It was dark. I couldn't breath.
There was another car parked in the brush off to the side. He had been planning this. He whistled as he headed over, unlocking the car with a sharp beep sound. He opened the door and twisted the key, driving down the road. He was tired, so tired. He had driven too long. Too long. His eyes fluttered and the memory went dark. His eyes opened again and he was heading into the tree line. It was dark again. His eyes opened. He had hit a tree. It was dark again. His eyes opened. He was in a hospital bed. Noise. They said permanent vegetable. I could hear them. It was dark again. He opened his eyes. Noise. The sounds of the machines were shutting down. It was dark again.
***
It was black. No noise. Only whispers. Whispering. Deirdre. "I knew it from the moment I first saw you. I saw your memories without you knowing. I saw. I could have told them. But somehow, you came over different. You are neither Adrian nor are you Eric. For some reason, you are more the man you killed than the man you were. You are justice through the eyes of the damned. You are in enough torment knowing. Now, open your eyes."
***
Green for Guilt. Green for Envy. Those were what my eyes were. In some mix of fate, the memory of the man that I killed and the man that I once was, intertwined. I was a killer who hid in the ranks of the wronged. They would not understand. I had felt their pain. What I did was horrible, and they could not comprehend it. How could I be different than any other murderer? I could not answer that, even for myself. All I know is that Deirdre was right. It had cost me everything. My existence, my state of mind, even my soul. Was there hope for redemption? I didn't know. All I could do was open my eyes, and see.