Black Feather: Episode LIV
"I Am"
???
11:12 p.m., 03/25
"...You should value what you have. Of course, I never had a family, let alone know if I even had one to start with. I missed out a lot of things in life, and I know I can't do anything about it. Say, tell me something. What's your dream? ...... dream? ......... dream? ............ ...dream? .................."
"...Well, I've always knew there was a surface somehow. And I always knew, that somewhere in that paradise, is a family waiting for me. I want to search, but I can't just leave everything behind. So, I come here to think about it...... it......... it..................... it.................."
"...You got a point there. I'll keep that in mind......... mind............ mind.................. mind............"
"You know what? I don't really have a name... name......... name..................... name........."
"It is I... Rey Vyn......... Rey Vyn......... Rey vyn........................... rey vyn..................."
"Are you happy now, Rey Vyn? Are you happy that you have a name now? Are you happy!? Happy that you've finally found your goddamn family!? ARE YOU!?!? ANSWER ME, YOU BASTARD!!!"
"...a......... an......"
"...ans......... answ......"
"...answer...... answer......"
"...answer me... ANSWER ME!!!!" A comforting emerald light surrounded Qastor as his senses crashed down upon him. He gasped, and a bubble wobbled up from his mouth. His eyes caught sight of the bubble and watched it float to the surface. He glimpsed around. A wide tube of glass surrounded him. He found himself suspended in a green, glowing, translucent liquid. His lungs screamed for air, begging and begging...
Qastor banged repeatedly on the glass. His lungs choked, his strikes were getting weaker. His loosening fist nudged the glass as he passed out...
_____________________________
Qastor awoke to the clamor of shattering glass and the impact of the cold, heat-siphoning metal against his body. He was flat on the floor, his body and clothes strangely dry as if it never touched the green fluid, which poured out of his damaged tube and pervaded the floor. Qastor gasped for air, coughing and gagging out some of the liquid, which left no taste behind. He moved his arms, the glass under his elbows and forearm scathed against the metal floor. He opened his eyes and looked up. A dark, long- coated figure leaned down, sheathing a sword into a scabbard. The figure placed a metal bar in front of Qastor's face and walked away, but stopped at one particular tube. The figure's right hand rose and became flat against the glass, the lime green glow sadly illumining his glove. The dark silhouette's head drooped down, as if in sorrow, and continued on its way, the clicking of the lacquered scabbard against the floor dissipated in the distance...
Qastor gathered his strength and slowly forced himself up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, but nevertheless, he picked up the metal bar with his left and wiped his blurry eyes with his right. His eyes settled on a distinct tube. One that already had been shattered besides his own. The green liquid still glowed and revealed a curious shard of glass. Qastor forced himself to pick it up. He held it against the dimming emerald liquid. There were three engraved letters, as if scratched by a hard object.
"I am"
Qastor placed the shard in his outermost left pocket, for fear that it might pierce him if he made a wrong move. He got himself together and his vision returned. Iris was in a nearby tube, which he carefully shattered, catching Iris in his arms and letting the metal bar clang on against the fallen shards. She was still unconscious when he settled her down against the unbroken side of his glass tube. He picked the metal bar again and proceeded to liberating the rest of his comrades. Qastor was amazed at how quickly Malirant recovered. It was as if he went through something of similar events before. Malirant tended Rose and Garnet while Qastor came over to Iris. He found her awake and dreaming.
"Iris... Let's go..." He shook her shoulder gently.
"Qastor... what am I?" Iris spoke with precarious courtesy.
"What?" Qastor blinked in puzzlement.
"Tell me... Who am I?"
"Iris... You're Iris... Don't you know that... W-what's wrong?"
"What he said... Is it all true? Was I... born for the sole purpose of murdering and devouring the flesh of innocent people!?" Iris gripped Qastor's sleeve, her eyes now glittering with tears.
"You have the freedom of choosing what you want to believe in. Iris, if you don't believe it, there's no one or nothing that can change your mind..."
"But... It all comes together so well... Everything that's been happening points to us. It's because of us that innocent lives are suffering!" Iris' tone was hopeless.
"Damnit, Iris! I have to live with this too!!" Iris turned away, shriveling up and encircling her knees with her arms. She muffled her sobbing against her knees. Qastor looked around. The others were lugubriously silent, congenially sitting against the wall or one of the tubes, thinking to themselves, trying to absorb and comprehend what they've been told. He turned to Iris. "Look... We all have to live with this... So, you're not alone..." Iris' weeping lessened. Not being able to think up anything else to say at the moment, Qastor settled himself down.
That's all he could do then... Just sit with his comrades.
"I Am"
???
11:12 p.m., 03/25
"...You should value what you have. Of course, I never had a family, let alone know if I even had one to start with. I missed out a lot of things in life, and I know I can't do anything about it. Say, tell me something. What's your dream? ...... dream? ......... dream? ............ ...dream? .................."
"...Well, I've always knew there was a surface somehow. And I always knew, that somewhere in that paradise, is a family waiting for me. I want to search, but I can't just leave everything behind. So, I come here to think about it...... it......... it..................... it.................."
"...You got a point there. I'll keep that in mind......... mind............ mind.................. mind............"
"You know what? I don't really have a name... name......... name..................... name........."
"It is I... Rey Vyn......... Rey Vyn......... Rey vyn........................... rey vyn..................."
"Are you happy now, Rey Vyn? Are you happy that you have a name now? Are you happy!? Happy that you've finally found your goddamn family!? ARE YOU!?!? ANSWER ME, YOU BASTARD!!!"
"...a......... an......"
"...ans......... answ......"
"...answer...... answer......"
"...answer me... ANSWER ME!!!!" A comforting emerald light surrounded Qastor as his senses crashed down upon him. He gasped, and a bubble wobbled up from his mouth. His eyes caught sight of the bubble and watched it float to the surface. He glimpsed around. A wide tube of glass surrounded him. He found himself suspended in a green, glowing, translucent liquid. His lungs screamed for air, begging and begging...
Qastor banged repeatedly on the glass. His lungs choked, his strikes were getting weaker. His loosening fist nudged the glass as he passed out...
_____________________________
Qastor awoke to the clamor of shattering glass and the impact of the cold, heat-siphoning metal against his body. He was flat on the floor, his body and clothes strangely dry as if it never touched the green fluid, which poured out of his damaged tube and pervaded the floor. Qastor gasped for air, coughing and gagging out some of the liquid, which left no taste behind. He moved his arms, the glass under his elbows and forearm scathed against the metal floor. He opened his eyes and looked up. A dark, long- coated figure leaned down, sheathing a sword into a scabbard. The figure placed a metal bar in front of Qastor's face and walked away, but stopped at one particular tube. The figure's right hand rose and became flat against the glass, the lime green glow sadly illumining his glove. The dark silhouette's head drooped down, as if in sorrow, and continued on its way, the clicking of the lacquered scabbard against the floor dissipated in the distance...
Qastor gathered his strength and slowly forced himself up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, but nevertheless, he picked up the metal bar with his left and wiped his blurry eyes with his right. His eyes settled on a distinct tube. One that already had been shattered besides his own. The green liquid still glowed and revealed a curious shard of glass. Qastor forced himself to pick it up. He held it against the dimming emerald liquid. There were three engraved letters, as if scratched by a hard object.
"I am"
Qastor placed the shard in his outermost left pocket, for fear that it might pierce him if he made a wrong move. He got himself together and his vision returned. Iris was in a nearby tube, which he carefully shattered, catching Iris in his arms and letting the metal bar clang on against the fallen shards. She was still unconscious when he settled her down against the unbroken side of his glass tube. He picked the metal bar again and proceeded to liberating the rest of his comrades. Qastor was amazed at how quickly Malirant recovered. It was as if he went through something of similar events before. Malirant tended Rose and Garnet while Qastor came over to Iris. He found her awake and dreaming.
"Iris... Let's go..." He shook her shoulder gently.
"Qastor... what am I?" Iris spoke with precarious courtesy.
"What?" Qastor blinked in puzzlement.
"Tell me... Who am I?"
"Iris... You're Iris... Don't you know that... W-what's wrong?"
"What he said... Is it all true? Was I... born for the sole purpose of murdering and devouring the flesh of innocent people!?" Iris gripped Qastor's sleeve, her eyes now glittering with tears.
"You have the freedom of choosing what you want to believe in. Iris, if you don't believe it, there's no one or nothing that can change your mind..."
"But... It all comes together so well... Everything that's been happening points to us. It's because of us that innocent lives are suffering!" Iris' tone was hopeless.
"Damnit, Iris! I have to live with this too!!" Iris turned away, shriveling up and encircling her knees with her arms. She muffled her sobbing against her knees. Qastor looked around. The others were lugubriously silent, congenially sitting against the wall or one of the tubes, thinking to themselves, trying to absorb and comprehend what they've been told. He turned to Iris. "Look... We all have to live with this... So, you're not alone..." Iris' weeping lessened. Not being able to think up anything else to say at the moment, Qastor settled himself down.
That's all he could do then... Just sit with his comrades.