Chapter 11
It's been seconds yet you still stand frozen trying to snap out of it, but can't. Time freezes but then fastens once again even though reality is doomed to never change. Maybe it's for the best.
He smirks at you and his yellow spiky teeth are almost glowing in the darkness. (Surreal isn't it, when demon's teeth are shining?)
Within them, you see the reflection of everything you have come to abhor, of all the vile endings and truths that you have mistaken as lies. He smiles at you, but his happiness is ugly. Everything about him and this life is ugly. Everything you have done so far is ugly and there is only one way to change it.
You see surprise registered on his face when he sees something in your eyes. You do not know if he sees the truth there or thinks it was merely a trickery of the lights. It does not matter; everything is deceptive one way or another.
"Go," you say with a hoarse voice, demanding him to go back to his den and leave you and your family alone. You are done with it; the Underworld and your world will just have to manage without you. You cannot live like this anymore, hating yourself any longer. The funny thing about all of this is that you never knew that you felt this way towards yourself. You hid these feelings under self-assurance and lies, but their presence along with the other you's presence has shown you the veil that covers everything you have known and done. So you tear down the veil with so much self-conviction that your mind is actually in peace with your heart, sure that everything is going to be better.
Then you are going to the window and are opening it wide; the outside world cannot harm you any longer, you are beyond it. If anyone were to see you, you would let them look. You would let their scalding eyes wash over you and have fire erupt in your heart. You would let the outside world see you if it were the only way for you to ever find peace and for your heart to ever be purified from all the evil that you have inflicted. Let it be if it were the only way. Let it be.
You deeply breathe in sweet calming air while wishing you could treasure it and have it with you always. Then you remember that it will be with you for eternity because you will stay here. You will stay by the outside being's side and there is nothing anyone can do to change it. You will always take these deep fulfilling scents in your heart as long as you are near your family. You will tell them everything, every little detail, let them be your confessors, and let them forgive you and forgive yourself. You will let the catharsis wash over you like their love.
You descend the stairs like a king coming back to his old kingdom, like a lost son. You see their faces turn to you, their smiles. You remember Bianca, in this life and the other, as well as Wyatt and Adam who sacrificed everything they had for this moment. In your heart, you ask your fallen brothers and wife to forgive you now, when the moment is finally perfect. They answer you in the language of angels, yet you know that if you could understand what they are saying it would probably be that they are with you- all the way.
The girls are saying something to you but a far away thunder is hitting the ground, scorched hopes having no remedy. Paige's mouth is moving accompanied by exaggerated and wondrous hand gestures, yet not a sound reaches you. Somewhere across the border there are three children playing and laughing. You can taste their joy on the tip of your tongue. You do not know how you know that they are there, but you know this is true; they are happy. There is a little child crying across the seas, terrified that his father will not escape the voracity of the waters and you are connected to his heart with threads none can cut. If you could, you would have reached out and touched his shoulder while telling him everything is all right. You can sense the father and he is in peace and well. Yet the wind covers all other emotions, magnificent with its touch. You cannot resist but instead let it wash over you, and you melt as it passes by.
Come with me, it whispers in your ear and you can hear thousands of trees and rains calling for you, begging you to be locked by their touch. You do not think anymore but let it carry you, let the feelings overwhelm you for you are none but one insignificant in the world of billions. Come to me.
"Hey, where are you going?" Phoebe's voice is like a knife in your mind, the fog almost vanishes completely, and you ponder: where are you going?
Home.
Nothing matters anymore. Not your aunts or your family but the feelings of belonging so strong that it is more than everything you have ever dared feeling. There is sunshine in the horizon, new rainbows and clouds that need mounting. Let me have you.
You let it.
A whirlwind of colors and sounds cross over you leaving you panting with disbelief that such beauty existed without you ever knowing about it. Walls and fortresses are being built and torn apart, cities conquer and are conquered, and your army spreads away to seek the wisdom of the four ladies of the wind chart. Everything happens so fast and far away, blink – and you miss it.
Suddenly, shadows cover the land; scattered and scared there is a herd of sheep trying to find a safe harbor from the rain. Yet the shepherd has gone. One by one, the sheep either fall to forces of nature or fight for domination. You touch them and then all the fear goes away and you are being washed with the feeling that everything will be all right. As long as you are here by their side, they will be all right.
From the corners of the globe, there is a wolf calling for its prey, lulling them to come to its mouth willingly and you feel the sheep drift away from you. So you stand in front of the wolf to protect what is rightfully yours, as mighty and strong as one of the gods themselves.
He strikes first but in a matter of seconds, you win. The blood spills over you, your hands are scarlet and your cloths are oozing with filth. Nevertheless, you get up and with a shrill of excitement and butcher all the remaining sheep for they had considered following another other than you.
Watching the graveyard that is spread around you, you turn your head and hear someone laughing. It takes a moment to realize it is you.
You do not know how long you stood there and laughed but in the end the hysterics vanished and you are left with a deep, calming feeling of rightness. Then the world pales and turns to a deep red. Everything; even the air and the soil turn into matching colors.
You hear steps. Gradually, they grow nearer. You do not try to get away; something is telling you that it is all right. Besides, even if you wanted to there is no place to hide.
Kyla appears out of thin air. "Come with me," she whisperers, her voice sending hot shivery lines down your spine. "Come to me."
The steps are coming closer and a sudden wind is slapping your cheeks angrily. You take it as a sign to go with her and as you take her hands inside yours, the world fades into a black hole once again.
When the view comes into focus again, you can see that you are in her lair. Her and yours lair actually, since this is the place where you sat all those long days in the beginning and where you spent time knowing her as well as this world anew.
"Are you alright?" she asks. Then realizing how stupid her question must be, she hurries to inquire instead, "Physically, I mean."
"Why shouldn't I be?"
Kyla points to your blood soaked shirt and hands, then murmurs something in that ancient language that all but her has long since forgotten. The blood evaporates and you are amazed to discover that under it were hidden many severe wounds, reddening and swelling as the seconds pass.
She spares you a harsh look as if you were intentionally concealing those from her and then pushes you to your seat with a cutting, "sit." You are about to protest about her manhandling you but whatever it is that she has started doing feels too good. All the tension you did not know existed is leaking away from you and in no time Kyla's voice is becoming quieter as you drift away to the kingdom of dreams.
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When you wake up it takes a few moments for the past events to come back to you, nevertheless, the calmness continues to engulf you and you don't hurry to get up on your legs.
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The next time you open your eyes you see wide opened eyes staring back at yours. You jump in alarm but then you feel a familiar touch on your shoulder and Kyla's whole face is coming to view.
"Easy, now. How do you feel?"
You consider your situation and find that you feel surprisingly good. Nothing hurts, and if you thought that the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in would grant you a strained neck, you were wrong. Whatever her voodoo thing was, it worked. "I feel fine. Thank you."
"You welcome." Those dimples smile at you but then they are gone and a frown covers her face. "What in the world happened?"
"I . . . don't know?" Ok, so it's not very lord- like but it is the best you've got under the circumstances. Then you catch something red on her side. "Are you ok?"
If possible, the scowl deepens. "Yes, not thanks to you. When you orbed down here you began attacking me! Mind telling me what that all was about?"
You stutter, "I . . . attacked you?" Fine, not your finest hour.
"Yes! You should be grateful that I didn't kill you," she huffs again and says something that sounds suspiciously like, "those insolent fools that only hell knows why I like…."
"I'm sorry," you say and actually mean it.
Kyla looks at you with a penetrating gaze. Then something passes in front of her eyes and her whole posture softens. "Never mind," she shrugs it away. "The important thing is that you're ok."
You wish you could agree that nothing else matters, but it scares you that you attacked her without even knowing it. Then a thought strikes you- the girls! You must have scared them half to death!
You jump from the sofa as if it has bitten you, beginning to splutter apologizes and explanations. "I'm sorry, I have to leave. I walked out to the girls. They must think I'm out of my mind, or in trouble! Gotta go, really!"
"Sit," she orders again and gives you something purplish looking to drink.
"I can't. I'm . . . sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or anything but they'll go ballistic. . ."
"So a few more moments won't hurt," Kyla says in a calm voice and shoves the cup back in your hand. "They'll even worry more if you won't drink it and appear half dead on their doorstep. Now, drink."
You recognize her wisdom and study the thing you are supposed to drink. It is steaming and every once in a while there is a little popping bubble jumping from it. You can swear there is a little mix of green in the corner that looks too much like goo to your liking. You sneak a look in Kyla's direction and note the determined gaze that Mom wore when you and the spinach had a fight. Guess who won. . . .
Well, the sooner you get it over with the better. You take a big breathe, close your nose, and force yourself to gulp it down in one big swallow.
You put down the cup on the nearby table. "Thank you. There was a mint in there somewhere, I think." You try not to think that it's probable that it was actually green goo.
Kyla does not pay attention you, though. Her eyes are continuing to go up and down your body, studying you intensively. Finally, she proclaims, "You look different."
"Yeah, your yummy thing helped me get better." Well, a little flattery never hurt anyone. . .
She looks at you impatiently as if knowing what you are trying to do. She probably does know what you are trying to do. "No, there's something different. You've changed."
"Well, I'm not the ruler of the world anymore."
"You sound almost . . . happy."
"I am happy," you say honestly, knowing full well that she's not going to like it but also knowing there's no way you can lie to her- you never could.
"I see," Kyla whispers and there is sadness in her voice. "You have changed."
"I guess."
You both are quiet for a minute, thinking of the implications such an admission applies. You are enemies now, yet it is obvious that you cannot hate her any more than she can hate you.
"Is it because of your family?"
She sounds genuine enough so you answer as genuine as possible. "Partly. I discovered that there's freedom on the side of good. I can be whoever I want to be and they'll always accept me."
"I always accepted you," she says but there is no hurt in her voice or maybe you just can't detect it.
"I know, but that's different. They're my family; they'll do everything to protect me."
It looks like for a moment she's about to say that she, too, will do everything to protect you, but stops herself just in time. Maybe its better that she didn't say it. It would have complicated things that are already complicated enough.
"What about the murderer of Bianca? Will you let him go free?" There is challenge in Kyla's words and you ponder the possibility of revenge again. You've change, though. It does not hold the same appeal to you as it used to have. He's not the same person here; therefore, it won't be the same anyway.
"Yes, I will," you say in what you hope is not in a too defensive tone. "He's different in this reality, there's no point."
"You have become weak!"
"No, just different." You try to explain but know it is useless. You cannot even explain it to yourself. Trying to change the subject, you say, "I saw the other Chris's memories."
Kyla jolts with that piece of information. "You . . . you have?"
"Yeah. It was a real eye-opener."
"What do you mean 'eye opener'?" You can practically hear her using the apostrophes. "Is that what changed you?"
You delve inside yourself, searching for the answer. It was only the beginning. It was what made you see that you were blind. The rest is more complicated, you're not even sure you understand it. But somewhere along the way, you understood what family and morals really meant. And . . . it changed you, for better or for worse.
"No, it's not." But even as you speak, you see that she is not convinced.
"What did you see?" Kyla asks and there is intense fire in her voice, as if she is going to fight it. And the scariest part is that you know she will. She cannot win, though, for how can one fight a memory?
"His life, his death, Bianca. Everything that made him himself."
"So you decided to become him?"
"It's not that simple." You sigh, trying once again to defend yourself, wondering maybe if this is in fact very simple. Trust you to overcomplicate everything. "I didn't become him. We're different. For starters he didn't know the amazing you." You smile weakly, hoping that will ease her mind.
Right. . .
"You act like him, you sound like him and you took over his role in his family. I wouldn't really call that such a difference."
"I didn't take over his family!" you cry out, offended. "They are mine, too!"
"No, yours are dead, remember? You killed them."
That was harsh. It seems like even Kyla understood it was over the line and regretted it the moment she said it, but it was too late. Words let free can never be taken back; they are destined to dwell in the hearts of both the receiver and who unleashed them into this world. Maybe this ancient curse was meant to save the world from the fault of the words. If that is so, it failed miserably.
"I'm sorry," she says and even though you know how much that must have cost her, it is hard to forgive. But in order to change you promised yourself you will forgive more.
So you look at Kyla square in the eyes and say stiffly, "That's ok."
You both know it's not, but it's a lie you both can live with.
"What about your plan? Everything is nearly ready." She sounds docile but the fire has not left her voice yet, it is like invisible steel that only you and she can feel. Maybe it's the truth. Maybe you are the only one besides her that can sense it, the only one that knows her enough to detect it. Then it dawns on you, what Kyla fears.
"The fact that I've changed doesn't change anything between us," you say and try to believe in your words, cursing the prejudices that made this situation harder than it should be. Your family will never accept her as a friend and the Underworld will never accept you ever again after your ploy will be broken. And by association to her, will refuse to accept her as well. In fact, they will probably think of her as a betrayer. But you can protect her from that, if she only let you.
"There is no us," she exclaims but she can no longer hide her hurt, so she chose anger instead.
"We are friends, Kyla. Don't lie to me. You didn't take care of me all this time only for the 'plan.' You could have killed me a million times and taken over everything, but you didn't."
"The Chris I use to know didn't believe in friendship," she snores stubbornly. "Everything in life is about loss and gain. What in the world would I gain from killing you now?"
"Power." You gently remind her of the most important thing of all. "You could say that you killed me and have them as your army."
"Naa," she shrugs but averts her eyes, hiding them from you. "That wouldn't have worked. Besides, I'm not cut to be a leader."
You grin mischievously. "You like me."
"Don't be ridicules. It's purely for self- preservation."
"Nope, you like me." There's a twinkle in your eyes, you can see it reflecting from hers.
Kyla grabs the cup and sniffs it. "Maybe it was too strong. . ." You are not fooled by her feigned concern. You can see the amused glint that she's not trying too hard to hide.
"What was that, anyway?" you ask, genuinely curious. She looks at you for a moment surprised, but then her gaze wanders to the walls around you, scratching her neck as if it's the most important thing in the world she has to do.
You can swear that she coughs something that sounds similar to "aspirin" but aspirin isn't purple . . . right?
Wearing a serious expression, she points to the cup. "It's an ancient potion my mother used to give me when I got into fights. It should preserve one's mental age but I guess it works different on alternate universes travelers."
"But what's in the potion?" Well, one doesn't get to be a ruler without a healthy dose of curiosity.
"A . . . root." Is that a blush?
"What kind of a root?"
"I don't know its name." Kyla sounds almost irritated. Almost. "I only know what it looks like."
"Fine, what does it look like?"
"Why does it matter to you, anyway?"
"Why are you avoiding the question?"
"I'm not."
"Hu huh."
"Stop doing that," she hits you lightly on the shoulder. "I'm feeling five years old again."
"You were young once?" It shouldn't surprise you but somehow you always imagined that the demon community in this world didn't age, just like the angels in your time.
"Well, I wasn't born 347 if that's what you're asking."
"Come on, tell me what it was like."
"Like your childhood, I guess." She starts saying something but then quiets. Maybe she remembers that you have killed your family, that your childhood wasn't too happy. Maybe Kyla's childhood was the same and she doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
You can understand her.
"It was asporna," she says calmly as if nothing of the above happened. You can live with pretending. You are use to it.
Asporna, huh? Not aspiring then, right? "Not aspiring then, right?"
So much for cunning. . .
"No." There's that blush creeping on her cheeks again. It appears that with these words, the atmosphere sobers but you joke on one more time, for the fun of it.
"So we are friends, right?"
"Yes, we are. Fortunately for you."
"Oh, yes. What I would do without you."
"Becoming cocky, aren't we?" Kyla asks but that amused glint just doesn't leave her eyes. Maybe she drank something.
"Maybe," you admit and pat her on the shoulder, relived that she seems to accept you and sees you are not a different person than you used to be. You care about Kyla opinion, you suddenly realize. You care about her. You have truly become friends. Oh, how have the mighty fallen. . .
"Promise me one thing, Chris," she says in an entirely different tone, one you haven't encountered yet- one that is real. "Let me save you," Kyla tells you softly and you stop yourself from laughing in her face. Save you? Why does everyone feel the need to save you, to fight your fights? Can't you for once decide what you want?
But a small, almost undetected doubt is rising in your heart. Maybe you aren't qualified to manage your life. Your brothers were right to save you, after all. You feel better. Maybe you just need one more saving.
"You don't need my permission for that."
"I swore to you in this place that I would never disobey you and that your wishes would be sacred to me, but I can't see you like this, abandoning all that you have cherished before. Please, Chris for the sake of our friendship let me save you."
"You can't," your mind speaks without consulting you. But it's right, she cannot save you. Even if you wanted to be saved, you are too far on the other side.
"Let me try," Kyla begs and something stirs inside you. Something in you wants to give her hope because you know you are all she has left. She can't save you but if it gives a meaning to her life, why can't she try? How much could it hurt?
So you shrug nonchalantly. Let her try. There's a light shining in Kyla's eyes again, maybe a sign that everything is going to be all right. Your gut is telling you that something crucial just happened but you can't pin point what exactly it is, so you shrug it away. You'll know in time.
Later, you will say that you should have listened to your gut and done something. That you should have even gone to the extreme of killing Kyla if you couldn't convince her not to save you. Because some savings are not worth having, they are simply wrong. But everyone is smarter in hindsight, and maybe you needed some things to happen before the world lent you a hand and helped you do what none could- what none should do. But you were always different; the world always gave you tests that others didn't even think of needing to pass. In the end, maybe it was better that way. Maybe if the world would someday end in fire, you could make it. Because you're you, and you are destined to survive everything.
When tomorrow comes you will realize just how cruel life can be, but before that, you still have a few hours of blissful peace, before the storm will hit and shutter all other realities.
Before night awakens.