Before the Fire Comes
Chapter 8 – The Leviathan
[Trigger Warning: References to Abuse]
"And men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty waves of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, yet pass over the mystery of themselves without a thought."
– St. Augustine
The words had slipped from my mouth. I never meant them, really. They were flung recklessly like water onto a grease fire, it was the kind of sitcom moment where the audience was either silent or let out a gasp of astonishment. My god, what had I been thinking, what had been going through my mind when I thought of it and said it? I knew what was going through my head.
The month had been terrible and fantastical to both of us in many ways, Kurt made friends and became distant and impulsive. I had made friends, learned about magic, learned how to make light glyphs, saved lives, I met Eda, who supported me no matter what and helped me on my way to, well, growing up; of course, there was the negatives of Amity, Boscha, and the rest, but it all felt like a net positive. I finally found a path. With friends and enemies, and that was just fine, but I wanted it to be with Kurt on my side – he agreed to it but took over for my fight against Amity. I knew it was reckless, but I also knew I could handle it and by the end of it all, he didn't trust me.
Where had the words come from? I knew where they came from. They had been bubbling in me for some time now and I didn't know how to let them out other than to—
"Can you pass me the towel?"
"Uh, sure."
"Thanks."
Kurt and I were preparing to head to sleep, starting with showers, hair, face, and teeth. The late-night routine was always the time for us to settle our issues and lay them out in front of each other, but this time, I figured that the chances of that happening were slim to none. So, I acted as normal, when in truth, I was deep in thought.
The day arose that morning like a regular day, chances were that I would learn nothing new about magic – that was alright, I learned a lot about life in the Boiling Isles everyday so learning about the magic system would end up just being the cherry on top – and I would definitely see Willow, Gus, or Etheridge if I could. That was how my days typically went around here, but that was not how today went. Instead, I found myself doing the entire opposite of all of that. My foreshadowing came when Eda demanded that I return her library books for her, while she and King ended up having to deal with a bat child for a few hours during the time that I would be gone—
"Well, I better get to the library! Gotta go! Bye! [door slam]"
"We got this, right?" Eda asked King.
—so even though it started rocky, I thought eventually it would get better. So I began the search for the library, I asked multiple witches to which they directed me as they would a tourist – the wrong way. It wasn't until I found the nose demon girl that I was pointed down the right path. She was carrying a book almost as large as me with the title, The Book of Sand.
"Do you need any help with that?"
"No, you wouldn't be able to lift it."
She lifted it over her head and proceeded.
"Thanks," I said, feeling awkward.
She glanced my way and kept walking.
At that afternoon hour, I was witness to a monolithic workshop of learning. I saw at Hexside a library of vast size, but not so massive and beautifully arranged as this one. Antiquarians, librarians, and scholars were each seated at their own desk, and there was a desk under each of the windows. And since there were forty windows forty witches could work at the same time, though at that moment there were perhaps twenty. Each desk had everything required for illuminating and copying: inkhorns, quills which some were sharpening with a thin knife, metal nib pens with textured glass exteriors, and rulers for drawing the lines that the writing would follow. Others were simply reading books, and they wrote down their annotations in their personal notebooks or on tablets.
"Excuse me?"
The speaker was a witch bent under the weight of his years, an old man white as snow, not only his skin, but also his face and his pupils. I saw he was blind. His voice was majestic and the limbs powerful, even if the body was withered by age. He stared as if he could see through me, and I saw him move and speak as if he still possessed sight. But the tone of his voice was that of one possessing only the gift of prophecy.
"Were you looking for something?"
I had lost myself in the wonder of the architecture and the people, I had forgotten what I came to do in the first place.
"I need to return some books, please."
"Amity reading to kids?"
I felt the words exit my mouth without thinking. I couldn't believe what I was seeing before me, the level-headed and composed magic wunderkind, being gentle and patient with a class-worth of children, the same one that had turned my brother into what Eda called a "walking casket centerpiece". Part of me wondered what had possessed those children to see her that way, Amity was a high school bully, like Flash Thompson or Bakugo, all seemed rotten simply through their blood to the people who ended up mattering most. This was the same.
Right?
"Otabin couldn't believe his luck. So, Bookmaker Otabin surrounded by friends, bound a book of friendship and that's the end," she closed the book to scattered applause from the kids. Maybe that wasn't true, though. I could see the earnest and giddy look in her eyes when they started clapping, when she finished the book and they ran up like Kindergarten students did with teachers, moving like a celebrity had materialized before them. "Amity seems so... nice and smiley." I uttered unknowingly speaking my train of thought, "Maybe I can befriend her like Azura befriended her rival?"
It was entirely plausible that we had just got off on the wrong foot, that Boscha had instigated the entire thing just because she was the actual horrible person, that maybe all of it was just some misunderstanding that could be rectified—
"So," Kurt whispered, "Amity?"
"Yeah, I mean, y-yeah. We made up. At least, I think."
"Did you?"
"Listen…"
"I didn't mean to do that, you know," he muttered, "I didn't want to impede your progress, Luz. It's just… I got caught up in this thing with Etheridge and after that… I reacted, I guess."
"I didn't mean to say what I did, Kurt. You know that, right?"
Kurt sighed.
"Kurt, I love you. You're my brother, I'll always love you even when these things happen. I need you to know that I didn't mean what I said."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
"What?"
"That I'm adopted. That you aren't my real sister. That mom, Camila, isn't my real mother."
"I…" I thought he knew. "I thought you knew."
"I assumed. I thought maybe I was illegitimate, that my curly hair was a recessive trait, my darker skin, the plights I felt. It was all supposed to be a coincidence, but…" He gave a dry chuckle, "You must've been really mad to let something like that go, huh?"
"I didn't mean to say it."
"Yes, you did. I mean, you just said that you have been thinking that for a god-knows-how-long now. You meant it," he replied, "So, Amity. You'd forgive her over me?"
"I knew why she did what she did."
"And my perspective deserved no consideration? There was no thought as to why I did what I did because I did it just to spite you as I always do when I worried about you, or when my mother-not-mother worried about me. I'm just Rosemary's baby, here to destroy everything like I did when I set that fire. Just like I did when Camila hit our aunt in the face, right?"
"Maybe that's true. I don't want it to be true."
"I think what's going on between you and me is something deeper than just siblinghood, being adopted and all. You wanted the limelight. Even when we got here, you felt that I stole it from you, like I was some understudy that upstaged the original actress. Before the Fire Comes, lead actress: Luz Noceda."
"I'm not that self-centered."
"You are, though. I am. We all are. You'll just never admit it, because you know that it's a less-preferable trait than being selfless, treating someone else like shit because of things that they had no control over. The fire, the whole shebang with Amaranta, the bullies, all of it. Camila said that I should be given some leeway and you did that no matter how much of an asshole I was, to you, to her, to the people around me. You just want to avoid cringing when you think about what you might have done or said, but that isn't how life works, Luz. You can't avoid pain forever."
"And why can't I? Just because I want to make everyone around me feel happy? I can't ignore my own feelings sometimes just so everyone can get along?"
"You're being inauthentic when you do that. Fake. You allow yourself to be a facsimile of the true you and that will eat you up inside. Then you'll blow up like you did when you said you wished that Camila never adopted me. Just like that time when you burst in tears in class."
"That was because of dad."
"It was. But it was also because you could scarcely take the feeling of saying you were fine for everyone else. Because he listened to you and Camila and I were too busy with other things to even consider you. For Camila it was work, and me, you never understood. And after the fire… the whole debacle with Aunt Amaranta. You never would try. I had my problems, you'd sit there and let me deal with them, you'd help me when I got in trouble, but you'd never listen to what I had to say. You'd let me try to take the world upon my shoulders. I dealt with the bullies, the rude teachers, the rumors, and all of that. But you never had a moment to think about why I came home with bruises and blood all over me, you would do what Camila had told you to do if that happened. That maybe you were too stuck blaming me for all the misfortune in your life and didn't realize that what's come these weeks here, the co-dependency, this self-destructive attitude that I might have gained, that all of this has been a self-fulfilling prophecy because you have done the same thing that you believe I have done to you."
Luz was silent.
"Look at me! Fatherless, a mother that thinks I'm a charity case, a sister that thinks I'm the center of every problem in the world." He sighed, "Fuck."
Kurt joined his friends partly because he hadn't known where the library was, and he was partly interested in finding out, so he could continue learning about the Boiling Isles' culture in his auto-didactic pursuits. He also knew that his sister would be there as well, but he hadn't planned to interact with her, especially since they were on bad terms since he forced himself between the duel that had ensued with Amity and Luz. He knew why that entire misunderstanding had occurred, but he the same force that kept him from speaking on a normal basis seemed to take interest in blocking the speech then. The same unusual feeling he had whenever Etheridge was around.
Just like today.
Etheridge caught them when they were walking into the library, planning to join the various scribes in the writing frenzy that had overtaken the main room of the library. Then Kurt felt the light feeling in his sternum, like a vibrating sensation, aggressive, constant, and keeping him from hearing everyone speaking to him, he recalled the pain he felt seeing the world fall apart around him, then he mentioned—
"Kurt?" He heard between the thunderous tempo beating in his chest, "You'll be fine if Etheridge joins us, won't you?"
Why wouldn't he be?
"Okay…" Edric drawled, turning back to the fourteen-year-old, "Alright kid, you can come. We're just hanging out anyways, so. If you wanna join that scribe stuff, you can if you want to. We'll just be messing with Amity."
"Thanks."
And so he joined them.
It wasn't a long walk, but to Kurt it felt eternal. He was able to tolerate Etheridge in doses but having to run into him twice in one day was downright hellacious, like- like why would did have to deal with someone like that someone who knew everything about him and used it all against him. He knew every little idiosyncrasy about him, what he did when people weren't looking, why he did things when people were looking, he even knew about things that he had kept from his sister.
"Apparently Anti-Magic developed from deep emotion for some, they believed that this was the catalyst to awaken someone's powers, you know?" Etheridge explained, "Honestly, I'm fascinated by anti-magic and the witches. I wonder if Kurt has felt something like that. The call of the void."
"What do you mean?" Emira asked, curious.
"This is way too deep for me to even comprehend, man," Edric groaned.
"Pain, death, defilement, terror in general, y'know. That's what most had gone through to awaken their powers, like one had their family killed in front of them and their town was destroyed in the process. Life don't get worse than that. Kurt's could be tamer compared to that, though."
Kurt stopped dead in his tracks, managing to freeze time for the second time since he had learned, "[Etheridge. Don't say anything about that.]"
"So you didn't say anything? Even to these people who respect you?" Etheridge had stopped as well and began to chuckle without turning to face him, and for a few moments they stared into each other's dark eyes. Etheridge pushed against the Anti-Magic, the black and white world begin to shift, "Remember: Rule number one of Anti-magic, Kurt. And if I were you, I'd stop caring about that shit.
"You think it's a good idea to hide your past, even knowing who you are and your abilities? Knowing who they are, that won't change anything between you and them. It doesn't keep the status quo, it doesn't make you a better person, it makes you an asshole. Take it from me. You think you have everything under wraps, with what's happening to you and your sister, but the actuality is your whole world changing around you, but the truth is you're not in control of anything and you have to let go of the past."
"[This isn't your business, Etheridge.]"
"Fuck you it isn't. You are my business, remember? I'm like, your foil or something," He glanced off in the distance, eying someone indistinct, then exhaling, "Aight, real quick, I'm gonna give you some perspective on this. My parents ask me what I did in school everyday and I tell the truth about what happened and my feelings about them. I'll tell them anything. Now you don't think you have that privilege, but I can tell by how they look at you. You hear me? I can tell by how this girl looks at you, that you could tell her anything and she would not judge you."
Kurt stayed silent.
"Or don't. Let it all build up and you'll end up killing someone with that power of yours. Take it from me," Etheridge uttered, fading into the greyscale, "You don't want that to happen."
Kurt read up on the Boiling Isles' history to take his mind off the fact that the Blight twins were spying on their respective siblings. He condoned none of it, but by the end of it, he was complicit in it all, as usual. Besides, he knew that his sister was alright, because whenever he saw her, she had enough energy to sling insults and angry comments his way.
"You're a liar!"
"You don't trust me!"
"What kind of brother would kill himself and leave their sister alone?"
His sister. Who had grown happy and earnest as the years passed after the fire, after their father's death, even Amaranta.
Luz, who snored like there was no tomorrow likely loud enough to be heard at the central. He chuckled to himself at that thought. Maybe there was someone who was walking aimlessly through the city wondering what they were going to do, then suddenly, the sound of a snapping turtle choking on its own vomit. No, that's just Luz Noceda, he thought, the sound of a fourteen-year-old sleeping exceptionally loudly. "Dude, why the hell does she sound like that?" he thought the bystander would say.
She had many problems when she was a baby, one of them being that her throat was so incredibly small that she could barely breathe, because of this, she struggled to learn to speak properly and enunciate her words both in English and Española, and because of this, she had to rely on him. Then the fire came, and he became so helpless for so long that she grew out of having to rely on him before he knew it. She was independent and even took care of him when Mama wasn't there. Even the days when he got into fights at school, bleeding all over, bruises, and everything - she knew exactly what to do since their mother had shown her. To be honest, she was his hero sometimes.
She looked at him the same way, the times he fought for her, the times he defended her, despite the physical ailments that plagued him, but he disagreed with this assessment. He was no hero. Hell, he wasn't even a good brother.
What kind of brother would deliberately ignore their sibling? There were even times when they had gotten into fights with each other, where she ended up bruised and blue. After "recovering from the fire" he burned everything that he touched, and he became less of a hero to her than before, becoming an aggressor. Beating anyone who touched him to a pulp and pushing away anyone who attached themselves to him.
Attached.
He wasn't anything but a villain. And he felt like one now, even in this new world.
"Hey," Emira said, "You okay?"
Kurt was crying.
No loud, gasping sobs, just tears on the face. Could have been allergies. He sniffed. He was fine.
Etheridge whistled behind her, "Oi, greenie. If you wanted to do that thing, then you might wanna stop flirting with the bastard and get out there."
"Don't call him a bastard," Emira objected, "His name is Kurt."
Kurt glanced up at her, face blushing with red anger and impulsive embarrassment and he remembered the words Etheridge spoke just a few hours ago. He remembered the feeling when she was dancing with Viney and he was playing. Were those feelings true, he wondered, or was it just like Amaranta?
Etheridge scoffed, "When have I called anyone by their name?"
"So," Kurt whispered, "Amity?"
Luz turned to him, surprised he would even want to speak with her after the shouting match, "Yeah, I mean, y-yeah. We made up. At least, I think."
"Did you?" He turned to her, the frown was stationary on his face. He still felt like shit after the whole library debacle.
"Listen…"
"I didn't mean to do that, you know," he blurted, "I didn't want to impede your progress, Luz. It's just… I got caught up in this thing with Etheridge and after that… I reacted, I guess."
"I didn't mean to say what I did, Kurt. You know that, right?"
Kurt sighed.
"Kurt, I love you. You're my brother, I'll always love you even when these things happen. I need you to know that I didn't mean what I said."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
"What?"
"That I'm adopted. That you aren't my real sister. That mom, that she isn't my real mother."
"I…" She thought he knew. "I thought you knew."
"I assumed. I thought maybe I was illegitimate, that my curly hair was a recessive trait, my darker skin, the plights I felt. It was all supposed to be a coincidence, but…" He gave a dry chuckle, "You must've been really mad to let something like that go, huh?"
"I didn't mean to say it."
Kurt wasn't sure whether she meant that, but he accepted it anyway, turning his head away. "I know. I get it. The heat of the moment and all, but…"
"But what?"
"It hurts. It hurt a lot to hear you say that."
"I-I know," she said, "I just wanted to hurt you like you've hurt me. But sometimes I forget that you don't mean to hurt me. You-you just want to protect me like you always said when we were kids. After dad died. And I hated it. I hated everything about you. I hated that you took so much of mom's attention, that Auntie Am went away because of you, and most of all I hated that I couldn't hate you because you were always trying to do right by me. You listened to my every problem, you-you defended me, and I let you get hurt. I let you fight my every battle. And now, you don't know how to live life without fighting on my behalf. When I told you I don't need you to protect me, I meant it. You keep pushing yourself between me and danger a-and I don't want you to get hurt anymore."
Kurt was stunned as she spoke about hating him, but as she went on, some part of Kurt felt indignant. He didn't know why, but he did.
"I can fight my own battles. I can run away when I need to," Luz replied, "I want you to grow up."
"What?"
"I dunno, it feels like I've kept you from growing up, living life, because you've been trying to protect me, and-and coddle me, and be like my father-figure or something," she spoke, her voice trembling, "I don't— I just want to be my own person... without you."
"I—" he had no idea how to respond, or if he should respond. Her words lingered in the air like a vile stench, like a pleasant perfume, deeply unsettling, fervently freeing, it came at him all at once. His eyes became glassy and dripped with salty tears, at once, the word came to him and he let it out in what was a sob, a sigh, and a distant wish for comfort from beyond the stars, moon, and violet night sky, "Fuck."
"What do you think you're doing here?" Amity asked, displeased with my presence. Her usual attitude returned.
"I was just returning books Eda had kept for a long, long time," I answered honestly, the swiftly and deftly changed the subject, "Did you know the librarian lost his eyesight from seeing a mass magic spell? That's kind crazy, huh?"
Amity raised her eyebrows and spoke with confusion, "Uh, yes." she said, tentatively. "It was after the Anti-magic witches were eradicated across the mainland."
My eyes widened at the comment, I didn't think that was what he meant.
"Yeah, see you around," she tried to end the conversation, walking away. Not so fast, ice queen!
"So, reading to kids? Looks like this sour lemon drop has a hidden sweet center," I said following behind her.
"It's for extra credit. Don't get your leggings in a bunch."
"No, I think it's really cool," I replied, she didn't respond, so I pressed like I did whenever I didn't know what to do on a Phoenix Wright game, "Hey, I could help with the kids. We could take turns reading. And do voices." I dropped an octave, "Like a monster voice."
"Will you—" She huffed, turning on her heel to face me. "Do you see me going to your Owl Shack and bugging you while you... fry up owls?"
"Huh?" I quirked an eyebrow.
She sighed, "Okay, I don't really know what you and your brother do there, but every time you come near me, I get in trouble."
"But I don't mean to get you in trouble,"
"I don't care! Just leave me alone!" Amity shouted.
"Wh— I-I'm sorry," I replied.
"You gonna let her get to you like that?"
I looked over and saw two teens, both had Lincoln green hair, golden eyes, and white skin with a beauty mark and black eyebrows. They both wearing the 'Illusion track' school uniform, just like Gus.
"Who are you two?" I asked as they walked up. The brother held a rabbit lunch bag.
"Well‐wishers on a mission." the guy said, placing a hand on his chest.
"A noble quest."
"Watch this. Hey, Mittens," the boy called out to Amity. With her back turned to them, Amity jolted and shivered with embarrassment upon getting called by that name, "Mom says stop forgetting your lunch and stop being a jerk to your friend."
Amity walked over took the bag from his hands in a single stride, "She is not my friend," she responded, glaring at me.
I sighed, just as the girl put an arm around my shoulder, "Yeah, makes sense. She seems too cool for you," she uttered with a sly smirk.
"Whatever," she responded, before walking back into the kid's corner.
"Amity, wait," I beseeched, Amity stopped once more.
She whispered, "Just stay away from me."
As she walked away, the siblings began walking and urged me to follow behind them. I followed reluctantly, doing so to avoid the biting solitude I suddenly felt.
"So, you're Kurt's human sister," the guy intoned.
"I'm Emira and this is my brother, Edric. We're Amity's older siblings."
"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Luz Noceda." I nodded to them, "What did Kurt say about me?"
"We heard about the incident at Hexside, the duel at the Covention, that was pretty cool." Emira said, "Oh, he mentioned that you and him enjoyed playing pranks."
"Word of advice, human. Don't waste time trying to impress someone like Mittens. We're way more fun," Emira said as she grabbed my wrist. "Follow us, we'll show you."
I followed the twins as they committed to various antics, such as Edric wiping away the "NON" part of the "FICTION" and "NON-FICTION" sign before running over to where Emira and I were hiding, waiting for the victim to arrive—
"And here we have our nonfiction section." He paused when he saw the sign, "Fiction. Fiction? Is our world but fiction!? Then what in my life is real anymore!?"
The next prank involved the first Librarian, who was reading while shelving books. As he placed one on the shelf, Emira used her magic and the book started glowing blue, before flying back onto the reshelving cart. This happens several times as we laughed quietly. Edric then switched the places of the first Librarian and the second one, who was up on a ladder—
"Huh? No! Not again!" The second librarian broke down sobbing while the first librarian fell off a ladder.
The third involved the demon decimal system, Edric held up a dusty book, he blew the dust at the demon decimal system, who heaved backward then sneezed loudly and aggressively, sending all the notecards flying above their heads.
By the end of it, the three of them were in perpetual bliss before Amity appeared with a dark red face of anger and embarrassment.
"Don't you have anyone else to go to for advice?"
Kurt stood behind Etheridge, leaving a trail of dark smoke as he walked in circles. He was too occupied by his thoughts to listen to anything that didn't include the keywords: "Anti-Magic", "Luz", "Kurt", "Fix", "Love" or "Emira". There was so much on his plate right now that he needed to sort out, his broken relationship, the newly budding one, and possibly all of his history being put out on the line.
"And turn your Anti-magic aura off or someone will see the smoke."
Keyword found, currently processing.
He groaned, "[Etheridge, what do you do when you get into a fight with your sister?]"
"I don't get into fights with her."
"[What?]"
"Yeah, we have squabbles, but we don't ever fight," Etheridge explained, "Whenever we had trouble, we laid our feelings out bare for each other to sort out. I mean, it wasn't on the other to deal with the emotions, but we dealt with it on both ends. Eventually, we understood each other enough that the bigger stuff fizzled out to simple squabbles."
"[And yet, you still haven't told her that you're an Anti-magic witch?]"
Etheridge let a few drops of the dark liquid spill from the desk. Kurt kept pushing the line with him every time they interacted and now, it was beginning to piss him off, "Watch your ass, Ishmael. I'm beginning to understand you better, but I'm not so nice that I won't fuck your shit up when you talk about my sister."
"[But you can talk about mine?]"
"Hell yeah. I don't know you enough to even consider your questions about my past or about her?" He growled, the grin still ever present, but growing angrier.
Kurt became just as frustrated, "[I'm not trying to get into your past, I just want to fix tis stuff with my sister…]"
"And what does my sister and my reasons for not telling her about this shit have to do with you and your jackrabbit look-a-like sister. Your life is fucked up, you bastard. Don't try to fuck up mine!" Etheridge blurted, standing up. He placed his fingers to his temples to calm down his major headache and his eye dripping the murky liquid. Knowing what he had went through, Etheridge knew that saying something like that was a low blow, even for him. "Listen, I gave you your advice: Lay it all bare, then let all of it go. Those words aren't yours anymore and it won't hurt as much when it's with someone who understands you." He paused, "But I don't think you want to talk about that."
Kurt narrowed his eyes, "[What do I want to talk about then?]"
"What I said earlier: that you've got a crush on the greenie. And that you're worried about talking to her because of the deal with all the other women in your life," Etheridge replied, "And because you're afraid of the mistakes you'll make again."
Pausing for a moment, he found a seat at the desk next to Kurt. "[What-what do I do?]"
Etheridge sat down too, looking him in the eyes, "The one thing you can't do."
The evening chill settled in when Kurt understood that it would be another sleepless night. He couldn't stop thinking about what Etheridge told him, that there might be something between him and Emira. He didn't know what, but this thought was dredging up something he had tried to keep hidden for a long time, something he feared he would have to address soon.
He glanced to his sister who slept in relative quiet this time, her back turned to face the window. He turned his attention that way as well, gazing down at the city once again, this time it was hidden behind a voluminous sheet of cloudy fog that obscured the once bright night market lights. The sky held no moon, no stars and no lights to focus on; the view outside was no view at all. It was emptiness. The only reason he could see anything at all, was because he saw the light from Luz's phone.
As the time passed, the haze seemed to take form in the house rising before the light from her phone turned off as the amorphous cloud turned into a blaze that situated itself in the air above him, expanding into a humanoid figure with long hair. It loomed over him, placing its red hot hands onto his and pinning him into the sheets, the flames licking his face and body. The inferno had eyes. It saw through him as if he were nothing but a plastic toy. It could burn holes into him, turn him into a pile of nothingness at a whim. He was at its mercy. The heat lifted him, and he rose and rose until he was floating almost kissing the center of the flame. Kurt did nothing and said nothing as it accepted him into its searing embrace, pain enveloped him. As much as he would do to leave the situation, he was the one that it deigned to keep it company.
When it was over, he was reduced to a twitching pile of discomfort and unease.
"Why are you here?" he asked, "I thought you…"
"Nothing can keep me from burning you, Kurt. Nothing and no one. Not even Emira."
"Don't talk about her," he found himself growling at the fiery being.
"You like her. It's purely teenage attraction. You're a growing boy, it happens."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up…"
"I see she has been growing up to be pretty, too, Kurt. Your sister. I also know that you've been avoiding each other. Is this because of me too?" she chuckled, but Kurt placed his hands over his ears now, unwilling to give her a second of his time. "You two were like two peas in a pod before the fire. Before us. Then your mother separated us, even though I am still here in your dreams, your heart, your body. You're too occupied with me to think about her feelings."
He still ignored her.
"The more you ignore me, the bigger I grow."
"Please leave me alone. I hate you and I don't want you in my life again."
"I know you hate me, but I'll never be able to leave you alone and I'll never be able to exit your life, Ishmael. I'm a part of you. I knew that when I did what I did, Kurt. I'll be with you always, whether you like it or not. And you gave me a part of you that will be with me always, Kurt. We're connected through life and love, in darkness and in health."
"That wasn't love."
"Then what was it? What was the dryness in your mouth? What was the mewls and cries? What was the eyes that never wished to close?"
"It was… agony. You… hurt me."
"And tell me, did it ever hurt, what I did to you?"
"…Yes."
"But by the end, you closed your eyes and accepted me."
"Please," Kurt was bawling, "Leave me alone, Amaranta."
Her face appeared to him again, "Never."
Nautical twilight had just settled in when Etheridge realized that he had fallen asleep at the desk, scribblings of notes and reminders of his past life, drool, and spilled ink all over the pages before him. Kurt had clearly gone back to what he remembered was a mad house of bat creatures, Eda, and that Titan-look-a-like. He sat up and stretched letting out a pained sigh as his shoulder had tightened after sleeping in such odd posture. He ran a hand over his face, letting out a yawn and leaning on his right hand, his eyes turned downward to the various books that he had collected.
While he typically enjoyed reading the poetry books that had accumulated from otherworld leaks, sometimes stolen by the Owl Lady or copied by those who had found portals to the human realm. He found himself reading something that he hadn't read since his time as Xaviel, a book that happened to be in the Demon Realm.
He assumed that Edric and Emira were still here, to enact their little prank of exposing the little greenie's diary all over the library for some reason. Childish antics at the end of the day. Xaviel recalled pranking his younger brother a few times when they were young, stealing toys, drawing all over his favorite comics, things they looked back on when they grew up fondly and chuckled, harsh as they seemed then. He always made it up to him afterward.
He never did these things with Florence. They were too busy trying to make it another day in the wild lands of the Boiling Isles most desolate places. He could partially see that survival instinct in Edric, the hair trigger, that Etheridge had even these days where the littlest things would send him back to those days trying to find food for them both. Edric had the heart and soul of someone meaning well, but doing wrong, and somehow, Etheridge knew that this whole thing was planned meticulously but unthoughtfully by the green-haired boy. Chances were that the blow-back on this little prank would be something he didn't take into consideration.
A light flung itself past Etheridge's window, walking itself across the width of the library and stopping at the entrance.
The door suddenly flung open.
Etheridge rolled behind the cover of the nearby bookshelf, his arms held up at his chest clutching and imaginary tool that did not exist this side of the multiverse. He aimed his weapon at the heads of the children who waltzed in before he realized that it was Emira, Edric and Luz. "Fadda Gad, whut de— I-I mean, what the heck are you three doing here?" He paused, rubbing his temples, "Actually, I know what it is, but why'd you bring her here?"
"Oh, hey Etheridge," Luz exclaimed, rushing up to me then stopping half-an-aisle away from where I was standing, "We were going to have some fun and do some pranks."
"'Making books come to life?' Yeah, I know. I wanna know why you agreed to this," Etheridge asked, pointing a finger in her direction, "I thought you had a bigger heart than that."
"What are you talking about? We're just doing illusion stuff, we're not going to hurt anybody."
Etheridge turned his attention to the trouble twins, who were standing behind Luz, whistling as the two of them continued. He meandered out of the black, "I see," he uttered, "I'll leave you all to it, then. I'll be in the history section in the meantime." The grin on his lips grew, brightening his adumbral visage. Luz felt the dismal aura emanating from him and stepped backward, suddenly understanding that he was gazing vaguely through her, as if he saw something distant and unknown.
"Uh…"
"Luz?" he asked.
"Y-Yes?"
"Tell little greenie I said 'hello.'"
And he disappeared in the darkness once again, taking his books and notes along with him. Stalking the library, they felt the air changed after their interaction with the boy from darkness, and Etheridge watched them. This was the measure of their valor.
Everything proceeded as he expected from there, since the bastard's sister knew nothing about what they planned to do, and assumed that it was a harmless joke, but what would she do after everything was revealed? He knew what everyone would have done, Kurt, the twins and their sister, those two kids, all of them would have done the sane thing and just play along, until they found the time to pull away. Yet, something was different about her.
She was unlike her brother, passive, pliant, and submissive all for obvious reasons. Had he never encountered Amaranta, Etheridge wondered what Kurt would have grown into activity, but she stunted his growth. The fire, that woman stunted his growth.
He wanted to see if she would break under that social pressure, was she anything like him?
Etheridge cut into the smoky meat on his plate with a knife, picking it up with his fork and chewing on it, he understood that he was very lucky to have this – a family to eat with, good, cooked food, and a thought process that allowed him to realize that great productivity had occurred over the day – but at the moment, he put that gratefulness aside for a moment of self-reflection.
His insistence that everyone fall prey to the same thing that he did. That people would rationalize the small evils, such as embarrassing people in public, and the great ones, such as killing a woman with children. The things that Kurt would have done without hesitation for the right reasons, that Etheridge had done for selfish ones. Maybe that was why he hated him as he was now… because he was just like him.
However, the truth that made itself known was that Etheridge failed himself the entire time.
Luz, as flawed as she was, did not give into the prank that Edric and Emira prepared to play on Amity. She even fought to keep her alive, despite having many opportunities to escape she rushed to her aid at every turn, even when Amity kept asking her to escape! Etheridge could only think about how many times someone had demanded his help, and he denied them because he was scared to bear the weight of people's lives on his shoulders. That girl did it without batting an eyelash, while cracking jokes to make little greenie laugh. What excuse did he have to abandon people? What excuse did he have to keep being a war machine like he was?
Florence gazed across the table at him, "You don't."
"I did all of this for something. I killed her for the Boiling Isles, those bastards, they destroyed so much of the world. I was in the right! She didn't deserve to live."
"But she is just one person, and there exists people higher than her that she answers to. There were people before her. Besides, it didn't have to be you at all. None of it must be you. Your being here is for one purpose, that's to lead the Harbinger down the right path. To return home."
"I know that."
"Then why engage in these petty squabbles when the change you're looking for exists right in front of you?"
"Because it's the only thing I know. All I was ever taught was to fight. I was supposed to be a soldier, like him. To make him proud."
"No, you weren't. He forced you into it. You always wanted to be a poet like your mother, but you were too scared to deny him."
"He was cruel, but he taught me what's what."
"He was never there for you when you really needed him. Those days when you thought you couldn't go on. Your father abandoned his role as a nurturer and became the warden for the prison you made for yourself. Even now, your words are meant to please him even though you two are worlds apart. Why do you wish this upon yourself?"
"I don't know."
"You've had two lifetimes to yourself. There is nothing that you don't know about yourself, Etheridge."
"I-I can't say it."
"You want to be loved, Etheridge. You can say it. We all want to be loved."
"You never cared about those things. You were so selfless. Everyone is so selfless, but here I am fretting over the woes of my pathetic childhood! Why is everyone so good except me? Why can't I be good?"
"You can be good, Etheridge. Everyone can be good. You can be selfish and good at the same time. Thinking about yourself doesn't make you the worst person on the planet. It makes you human. Fallible. And wanting to be loved is the most human thing someone can wish for, but you have so many people who already love you. We'll be by your side forever, Etheridge, even when you're at war with yourself."
Etheridge was quiet.
"Why do you believe that you can't be good?"
"…I can. I'll-I'll try from now on."
A/N: This was the rawest, most visceral chapter to write. I had come up with this chapter before I posted this story and wrote some of the excerpts from it a long time before. There was symbolism, a lot of artistic license, and probably a lot of mistakes. If there's any criticism of this chapter, please tell me. Please. This chapter, along with the upcoming chapter twelve are the ones that will likely need the most work since I am getting a little emotional writing these. So if there are some inconsistencies. Tell. Me. You are the greatest people in the world and have given me joy.
LostKagamiWitchintheIsles: Still so sorry about that troll, if there's anything I can do to help, I will. Trolls are the worst! Their tenacity is all they have going for them.
As for your review, I like your theory as to what Etheridge could be doing to Kurt. That is an interesting angle to understand that scene. I will say that it's a possibility, but I won't say whether or not it's true. I'm very glad you enjoyed Etheridge's chapter (given that he's my favorite character).