The Horse with No Name
Chapter Eight
Who Am I To Tell Me Who I Am?
Captain Roarg is here… again. She's always about now, always hovering around whilst Gohan and Rixas train. Gohan really wouldn't mind as much if not for her little barbs here and there. They're not pointed or obvious enough that he can say anything back, but the way she teases him is so unexpected in contrast with her usual polite detachment. Otherwise she's friendly enough. Rixas is apparently her superior and yet she doesn't really treat him as such when it's just the three of them. When other soldiers are around she puts up a façade of respectful distance, something which certainly disappears the moment no ears are around to judge.
A couple of days back, she'd offered him some pointers on how to avoid Rixas' lightning kick, the thing which took out his ankle last week and had the doctor berate both of them about. Sadly, the advice didn't mean much as the dolt just changed targets from the ankle to Gohan's right wrist. What's with this guy and going for the joints?
"Lord Rixas aims for the weakest points at all times, even during training. If your form is feeble then you are merely inviting him to showcase it," Captain Roarg had said the other evening as she applied one of Gohan's many coatings of Amber Salve. "He comes across as brash, but Lord Rixas is actually highly skilled in recognizing an opponent's weakness and then waiting to attack."
"So he's a predator?"
She'd laughed; very much a foreign sound, and then agreed with him.
Later, Rixas and Captain Roarg had even demonstrated defence techniques in order to strengthen his stance. It'd been most satisfying to see Rixas as the test dummy just because the idiot had to be flattened so many times on his back in the demonstrations. Sometimes she'd even stay for meals but more times than not, she wouldn't, having to return to the barracks to meet with her men, or needing to attend a meeting with other captains; something Gohan bears not questioning just because the way she talks about them isn't with much confidence.
Still, even though the company hasn't been entirely awful Gohan finds his mood sinking lower with each passing day. He misses home, his friends and family, and just the Earth in general. The thought wanes when a fist connects with his gut.
"You are not the most tactile, are you?" Captain Roarg comments when Gohan skids along the dirt, halting just at the tip of her well-polished boots. Rixas assesses his volley from afar and hoots.
"I did just fine against you last time," he retorts from the ground, patience pressed. She pulls him up and gives him a slap on the back as he stumbles away. The way she smirks still makes him uneasy. "Of course you're just going to say that you were holding back or something, right?"
Still on the other side of the clearing, Rixas lets out a low whistle. "Oh, someone's bitchy today."
And he is, and has been for the better part of a week and a half –especially since the Zealite incident, missing Earth or not. Every moment since has had the teenager on edge, and even with the captain around, Gohan feels uncomfortable. Quell's lasting words about the Zealites have impressed on him so deeply that Gohan finds himself looking around every corner before he walks, edging through doorways or simply just avoiding being alone unless in his room. Gohan is no coward but the idea of people stalking him just because they think he's some dead god; that's unnerving.
"Had I not been holding back you would not be here to tell the tale, my lord."
Gohan scoffs. My lord.
Rixas clearly loves the dynamic between the two, always eagerly grinning to himself like all his birthdays have come at once. Gohan had not long ago gotten used to Rixas' menacing behaviour but now he feels truly tested with another difficult person added to the fray, as though one wasn't bad enough.
"Do I need to put you to bed, little brother?" coos Rixas, making Gohan really want to make the guy's head spin. "Are you being gwumpy?"
"I'm fine."
To her credit, Captain Roarg takes a step away to give him some breathing space, unlike a certain deity who decides that Gohan's personal space is now also his personal space and plops a head on the teenager's shoulder. Annoyingly, Gohan hadn't even seen the guy move –he'd been several feet away just seconds ago.
"Wanna' stop today?"
Grouchily, Gohan shoves away the unwelcome bird's nest. "I want you to move that boulder off of me."
"Ehhh, why are you being like that?"
The teenager sighs, scratching the back of his head as he glowers at the ground. The groove of his earlier impact etches deep into the layers of dirt as if bragging about the headache it's given him. His cranium throbs, pulsating on as he comes to realise that he may be letting this get at him a bit too much.
"I'm sorry," he eventually apologizes, "I don't mean to be… you know–"
"Cranky?"
Gohan spares Rixas a look, lips upturning wryly. "Sure, that. Maybe your last attack really did give me brain damage or something, I don't know."
The blond turns to the captain. "Roarg, can you give us a mo?"
She nods and bows her head towards both of them. Gohan catches her gaze and holds it for longer than intended, unable to decode whatever seems to be going through the woman's head.
"Mori," Rixas starts, uncharacteristically stern as he folds his arms and considers Gohan with mounting tension. The latter can see the cogs moving about as if they're weighing up how to approach something undesirable, a topic unwelcome. When Gohan tells him to just get to the point Rixas does just that. "I think you should try the serenity candle again."
The teenager recoils as if burned. "You're kidding, right?"
"You're clearly not making any progress with Doc Hezk, are you? You see her every other day but I can tell that you've uncovered jack."
Just what can Gohan say to that? It's true. Doctor Hezk has become increasingly more frustrated too, and this time it's not for the lack of trying. Gohan really has been attempting to get into his head but there's just nothing there. He's been telling everyone how they're all mistaken, how he's not Mori, and maybe now despite the one hiccup of using the serenity candle, they'll see how right Gohan's been all along.
"I can tell that you're getting all antsy," Rixas continues, "and you've pretty much hit a stalemate with how much you can do solo with the memories thing –at least for now. Why don't you just give it a go?"
"I don't do dru–"
The god gags before the teenager even finishes the sentence. "You want to go to Earth, right? You've been here a while now, and neither you nor us are satisfied with what you've done with the doctor, or rather, not done."
Gohan's expression sours. "When you say, 'us' you mean you and Quell, right?"
"And Doctor Jivel, I suppose. I think he expected better." It stings a little because he actually respects the doctor. "But maybe you should listen to yourself more, little brother, because I think you're your biggest critic here. You've been just wretched company as of recent, and whilst I know the Zealites attack has been one reason why, I do think part of that is a lack of progression with your memories too."
"That's a bit of stretch."
"Eh, is it? I don't know." The tone says otherwise and Gohan has to bite his tongue. "I think you've been getting equally as frustrated as Quell and I with the whole thing."
"And at what point do you accept that I'm not Mori?" Gohan then challenges. "When do you accept that I don't have any of these memories to speak of?"
Surprisingly, Rixas doesn't bring up the first usage of the serenity candle and the seeming epiphany he'd had. It's apparently not needed, because instead he leans forward and offers a fond pat of Gohan's cheek. "A week. If we've got no results in a week then I'll talk to Quell. How does that sound, Go-haaan?"
Like the best option he's going to get.
Captain Roarg's right, he thinks as a Cheshire Cat gin faces him, this fiend looks for any weakness and then goes for the kill.
The following morning, the smell of the candle makes the teenager queasy even deep into his trance. Doctor Hezk had attempted not to look too excited at the prospect of using the candle but Gohan had seen right through her –she'd practically bubbled in delight as she whipped out the long, thin stick.
The room has been coated in shadow as the heavy curtains have long since been shut. Only the atmospheric flicker of orange and yellow from the candle creates a dismal glow in the darkness. Doctor Hezk's voice drops to that soothing drawl as she guides him through the darkness, through the trance. It's hard to trust her after she'd tricked him last time but Gohan's in control now –he'd been the one to suggest the candle today. That alone gives him some comfort.
Before this, the weeks had zipped by with very little in regards to memory recollection. They'd talked about Gohan's childhood as is the standard, combing through the details so finely that he's sick of thinking about anything before the age of fifteen, and they'd talked about his plans and aims in the future. Strangely enough, that'd been even harder. Whilst Gohan knows that his plan is to go to university and study to become a scholar he oddly finds it difficult to talk about, as though after recounting all his childhood adventures he somehow feels shame in taking a normal path into adulthood. Gohan won't become an adventurer or, with the possibility of disappointing Rixas, a god any time soon. No, Gohan's going to become a scholar. Maybe, he might even get his teacher's qualification, who knows?
His lips press into a fine line. Gohan's future is set… yet why does it feel so empty?
Lavender teases under his nose and so the teenager blames that for these types of thoughts. The sickly aroma spurts through him, breaking his head open like a burst of fireworks going off, exploding chaotically as he tries to stay grounded. It's harsher than he remembered; making him so nauseous that he thinks the room is being spun on its head.
"Focus, Gohan," the doctor says through the dizzying perfume, "dig deep within yourself, unearth the truth lying dormant."
It's not for a lack of trying. The meditation anchors him only so much.
"I can't see anything," he manages, "it's all dark."
"Push past."
He twitches, "I can't."
Tides of swooping black course at him in a violent blows, one after the after the other until Gohan feels completely winded. This is the candle's fault, he knows it. He hates the thing with his entire being, he hates feeling so dizzy, so frazzled. It's like an undoing of him any time he smells that putrid stench.
"Deep breaths," she orders, voice soft. It grates on him.
Everything grates on him; the smell, her, this place, the darkness… He's so frustrated, so angry. He wants to go; he wants to quit… he… he—
He throws up.
It's normal, so he's told. Doctor Hezk had rubbed calming circles into his back as Gohan apologized and apologized. He'd been so horribly embarrassed. When was the last time he'd been sick like that? Eight? Nine? Gosh, he can't even remember. For the first time, Gohan cancels his training session with Rixas and spends the day in his bed, sleeping off the nausea and trying to focus his mind away from the ever-stretching darkness.
The next day offers even less in fruition. Instead of feeling sick Gohan just develops a headache and demands the candle to be removed. The space between his temple pounds long after the doctor leaves him, and again, he spends another day in bed.
Day three of using the serenity candle is an interesting day indeed. The black corridor of his mind contorts into ugly splotches of rebelling colour, amplifying, and etching into Gohan's core as he tries to understand them. When he approaches an off-shade orange the moment is rudely broken by a scream in real life, one emitting from Doctor Hezk as a swarm of fiery ki surrounds them. After the flames are put out, Gohan does go to train with Rixas and the captain that day, crabbier and "bitchier" than usual especially when asked about the smell of smoke coming from his attire.
The fourth day has Doctor Hezk arrive with even less sureness than usual. She eyes the darkened patch on the floor from where the worst of the fire had been, frowning with distaste as she sets the candle up once again. She's brave, Gohan'll give her that.
Luckily, he doesn't cause another fire today. The colours against the shadow go on in their merry dance as the teenager focuses on the doctor's voice, on her guidance into the depths of the unknown, moving past the dangers of orange and into a spectrum indescribable thought. The lavender is the backdrop to the journey, a journey which, yet again, comes up empty. The teenager wakes from the stupor when the doctor has to shake him out of it. She'd even looked a bit worried, something which unsettles Gohan long after he goes to bed that night.
The fifth day, a day marked by Gohan's growing confidence that he'd been right all along, is to be derailed so dramatically that it changes the course of his existence for good.
It starts as normal as the others, ending the session with Doctor Hezk leaving his chambers as despondent as usual. The door shuts behind her, and yet again, Gohan's usual blistering headache has him cancel the training with Rixas and the captain. When it proves too difficult to sleep he finds a new and sudden urge to take a bath. Strange if only because Gohan can take or leave a bath, finding showers to be more convenient and never really appreciating the art of soaking in a tub. Wrinkly fingers and lukewarm water… Eugh.
But he follows his gut and runs himself a bath. He uses Mori's massive tub –or pool, really– because the en-suite runs impossibly big, extending out with large and open windows looking out into the forest. The view is impressive and Gohan finds himself appreciating it as the suds ease his skin, imprinting soft aromas and making him feel more spoiled than he's ever felt in his entire life.
We lived very different lives, Mori.
Whilst Gohan grew up in a modest home, Mori had luxuries galore. His chamber is bigger than the Son house alone, and is filled with priceless gems and elaborate clothes. The books alone are probably worth more than all the possessions his family owns –he knows fancy books when he sees them, and see them does he as he's found himself skimming through the books on a day-to-day basis, still lost as the written scribbles swirl around one another with their secrets.
He sinks lower into the bathtub as the lilac sky fades into something murkier, signing for little droplets of rain to start splattering against the window. It's moody… just like how Gohan's feeling.
How long has he been away from home now? Seven weeks –eight? He's starting to lose track, and every day here has him slowly forget what it's like to live his normal Earth life. And worse of all, it makes him question if he's ever going to go back at all whether or not this… misunderstanding is cleared up. Will they just let him go back to Earth, let him go home and be with his family, be with Videl?
Despite knowing her the least, he finds it's her company he misses the most; those quiet and comfortable study sessions, those dates they'd share together in the mountains. He'd planned on showing Videl his and Piccolo's waterfall when the weather warmed up. It would be just the two of them (after he'd shake Goten off of their tail), and there he'd probably set up camp for the night so they can explore the surrounding caves and hike through the mountains. Videl's sporty like that. He likes that they can share in nature together.
…Will that happen again?
Gohan presses his eyes closed and sinks until completely submerged. The black returns and he just can't get the smell of lavender from out of his brain. A rush of queasiness yields when he remembers the first time he'd used the candle; the memory of his dad's gi.
He watches it as it grows smaller with distance. It's moving away from him, the Turtle insignia growing miniscule as it shrinks and shrinks into obscurity.
His eyes open, and a long breath leaves him.
"What do I do now, Dad?"
After the bath, he's in an even worse mood despite the headache finally fading away. Normally, with his spare time Gohan likes to clear away some of Mori's clutter because the entire space is a death trap. Books have been strewn everywhere, pencils and pens alike erratic in their piles on the floor –really, did the guy have to be such a slob? Even though Mori has been remembered as one of those genius-types, something Gohan can see with the mountains of reading, the teenager is still mighty unimpressed with how he'd lived. Cleanliness is next to godliness, indeed…
Gohan had long since tidied up the worst of it, yet the bookshelves still need a keen eye. He examines some of the spines he recognizes, the ones filled with pictures and diagrams; books which are easily devoured just because he doesn't need the ability to read Lanit-Tongue. Pictures of beasts, aliens, monsters and everything in between glare up from their respective pages, enticing him to stare more, but stare he doesn't because the right sector isn't going to organize itself. So he slots the book in the Living Creatures section, and then turns to the Astrology collection, angry because clearly Mori preferred these stars on the floor instead of the shelves.
Time passes and he can't say that he's having a bad time. A lot of the pictures are made up of beautiful illustrations, bumpy to the touch and earthy to smell. The printing ink is oddly divine. As much of a bookworm he is Gohan does find it just a little strange to be getting excited over a press-print –he slides the book into the Chemical-Warfare section and moves on.
Along the pictures in one book, the text reads about the history of the estate and the beauty of the surrounding land. Gohan is quick to become enamoured in it, swallowing the information like a man dying of hunger as he learns more and more about the realm. It speaks of creatures found in the forest, of the temples, of the ancient buildings, of the wars taken place there, of the—
He stops, the book dropping to the floor.
What the-
N-No…
…Gohan's reading.
Scrambling, he picks up the book and sure enough, he finds that it's most certainly not written in any Earth language he knows, but instead the swirling characters of Lanit-Tongue.
"Oh," he squeaks. "Oh god."
This is impossible. This can't be happening.
It is happening, and to Gohan's abject horror he can understand every book he next comes into contact with. His wonderful job in tidying up is abruptly ruined as he rifles through rows of books, spines and pages flying through the air as he finds that he is able to read everything. He now recognizes that, whilst messy, the books had been ordered in categories depending on genre and age. The knowledge infuriates him for some reason, drives him to such frustration that he tears down an entire bookcase.
A grunt leaves him as he kicks at the wood. Gohan isn't supposed to be able to read Lanit-Tongue! Gohan isn't supposed to know about anything of this!
I'm not him.
He breathes hard, feeling manic as he watches the dust lower like snowfall. With the layers of grey falls something a bit bigger, but still small and wispy to the touch. Gohan snatches the fleeting thing, crumpling it accidently when he feels the thin, papery material.
After forcing himself to calm down, he gingerly unfolds the paper and within seconds things go from bad to worse. Deep down, somewhere so deep and ignored, Gohan knows this to be Mori's handwriting.
Quell's watching from the Winter Pavilion. It's only time.
It's only time? What's only time? Gohan's hand is shaking as he regards the note, because he remembers that Mori had been murdered, remembers when Rixas had warned him at the bar, remembers that he's not allowed access to Earth.
He stashes the note away and turns on his heel, fleeing Mori's –or rather, his– room. Memories or not, Gohan's done. He wants absolutely nothing to do with any of this. A constraint on his chest tightens and the feeling of panic descends, a bizarre claustrophobia making him see only through tunnel-vision as he tears out of the estate and into the green depths of the forest. When running isn't enough, Gohan flies. He doesn't care what the captain or anyone else thinks of him.
Gohan just needs to get away.
He passes signs, signs he can now read. One arrow pointing left tells a name of a place the teenager's never heard of, and the one pointing right is simply labelled 'Spire Grounds'.
How do I get out of here?
And then he remembers that this is a realm, never once has it been referred to as a planet. Is this place separate from where Earth is –from the universe?
Yes, a cool voice in the back of his head hums.
He swipes a hand through his hair, frantic. Getting back to Earth is near impossible, isn't it? And even if he manages it then Quell will follow him there too, and just what would he do there? He'd not only kill Gohan but also his friends and family too…
"Euughhh…"
Gohan palms at his eyes, rubbing them hard. Maybe if he rubs hard enough the gold will disappear and everything will go back to normal. All this started when his eyes changed, when that stupid tree spoke to him. Yeah, it's all that tree's fault—
Suddenly, Gohan feels the pinprick scratch at the centre of his throat. His eyes open and he finds himself looking into the faceless abyss of a shadow. And between Gohan and the shadowy figure sits a thin blade aimed into his neck.
"Don't move," the Zealite warns, whispering.
On principle, Gohan growls but he doesn't move. His eyes thin as the thing regards him with longing interest. The blade tilts and Gohan with it.
"Can you read the sign?" it then asks.
Gohan looks between the Zealite and the sign, anxiety growing. He's always been a rotten liar, so he doesn't answer and instead just glowers. As soon as Gohan's given the chance he's going to knock that blade awry and punch the shadowy creep through a tree.
"Can you read the sign?" it repeats, tone harsher, but there's something off about it. When it says the sentence again does Gohan realise the Zealite is actually speaking in Lanit-Tongue.
Disturbed, he grinds his teeth and looks away –but the damage is done, and so the Zealite repositions the blade, but before anything worse can happen, anything else to remind Gohan how much of mess this all is, the Zealite brusquely dives left. Or at least, that's what he thinks.
In a trail of smoke, Gohan notices tumbled figure of the Zealite smattered in the forest's filth. It sticks to it regardless of the smoke-like mass making up the body, creating a paragon between earth and ethereal amongst clouds of grey.
Beyond that stands a new person, tall and poised behind a disconcerting mask, one which makes Gohan think of a traditional Kabuki mask dip-dyed a fiendish red. Black jets along the side and under the eyes, hiding under a pair of flashing gold. The rest of the person's silhouette is coated in a shower of smoke of its own, occasional flashes of red lightning whirring beneath the surface.
The person seems to have very little business with Gohan because it wastes no time in stalking over to the Zealite and picking him up. The teenager steps away, back against the sign, watching on in revulsion as the masked individual plies the Zealite upwards and proceeds to rip the being in two.
"Stop it!" the teenager calls, "Stop it!"
But it's too late. Gohan's never seen such brutality, feeling the bile in his stomach stir as the crunching of bones and spurt of blood cry into the empty sky. If the Zealite had made any noise then Gohan hadn't heard it, probably because of the screaming in his own head to stop this, the screaming telling him to run. But Gohan does neither.
Horrified, he stands there and watches.
There are monsters everywhere.
Finally, the masked person throws both pieces of the Zealite into a shadowy lump on the ground before turning his attention to Gohan. Instinct rife, Gohan raises both fists and readies himself for the worst.
And the worst is what he gets.
The person then waves a hand over the mask, stealing the black and clearing the red away. When the smoke and lightning disappears Gohan's left gawping. His stance drops, but his feet pull him backwards.
"N-No."
Monsters everywhere…
"Mori, are you okay?" asks the newly revealed Rixas. The golden light of his eyes burn with compassion, but Gohan can still hear the crunch of bones, the squelch of blood. When Rixas moves forward, the teenager recedes. "Did he hurt you? What's wrong?"
Gohan's head pounds again. The disgust wells up in him, simmers like bad food, rotting and poisoning him from within. When Rixas tries again, tries to grab his arm, Gohan does the only thing his body allows him to do; he reacts.
His arm pistons so fast and with such force that he's sure the echo of the punch can be heard for miles around. Rixas takes the hit across the left side of his face and so flies right with great velocity. It's a hell of a punch, stronger than anything Gohan's delivered thus far, and enough to even surprise Rixas and knock him well out of eyeshot.
The teenager groans into the cusp of his hands.
What kind of hell is this? You're all monsters –even you, Rixas!
Gohan then takes back to the sky. The stretch of evening is upon him now, chasing him as he dashes in blue light across the horizon. He doesn't know where he's going, only that he has to move, and that the more space between him and the Estate the better. At some point during the flight, the nausea had escalated into full-blown sickness, and Gohan is forced to stop to relinquish his stomach of its contents.
I'm not Mori, he internally repeats over and over as the bile pours free. His lungs scream at him as he hacks up more than what he can, and Gohan wants to scream along with them, and so he does.
"I'm not him!" he bellows out over the surrounding fields. Only the grass and some surrounding birds are around to listen, darkened by the setting evening sun beyond the clouds. "I'm not Mori!"
He's panting hard, still winded from throwing up, and tired from the impressive ground he must have covered in flying here. His chest tightens with a stitch, and so he lowers himself to grass. Gohan threads the blades between his fingers with a bowed head, willing himself calm.
"I just want to go home," he mumbles so pathetically, painfully so, enough that he feels his throat constrict.
Just why is this happening to him? Gohan doesn't want this –he isn't special, not like this. He doesn't care about godly affairs, about powers. If it was up to Gohan he'd just get rid of the lot of it; he has zero interest in being a part of any divine system. All Gohan wants to do is be with his family!
He thumps a fist against the ground and in retaliation, the world shakes. It shudders continually as Gohan bashes fist after fist into the pulverised dirt. There's one final punch, one so catalytic that something deep within him even rattles.
Breathing ragged, he presses his head against the beaten soil.
I'm a monster too.
His eyes, golden –he knows– close when a threat of wetness appears. He stays like that for a short while, until he feels a gust of wind tickle at his hair, something which at least makes him peer up. Gohan expects to see Rixas there, or maybe even Quell. What he doesn't expect to is to see that bloody tree.
Gohan's up and on his feet in a flash, miniscule in front of the magnificent ivory branches as it looms on eternally into the heavens. He hadn't noticed but does now that trails of cerulean flowers lead up to the tree, almost like a pathway; stunning and perfumed with something addictive. Breathing feels good, and not horribly heavy like his last experience with the Ivory Tree.
Even now, gazing upon its majesty doesn't plough Gohan down with the pressure he'd originally experienced. In its place is a peculiar lightness, something wholesome and fulfilling like a full meal on a winter day, like his mother welcoming him in from the snow with a warm drink. It's like walking through one's own front door. So, he treads up to the tree and the branches shine a sparkling silver in rejoice. Zigzags of gold strip down from all sides in symmetrical glee as Gohan takes his place at the base of the trunk.
"Does it hurt you to look upon me still?" it questions.
Gohan shakes his head, awestruck. "No, it doesn't."
Silence follows until a new streak of silver flashes beneath the bark. Finally, the Ivory Tree continues, "It is due time to accept your duty."
Another flutter of wind blows past, gifting Gohan another dose of the flowery aroma. It's sweet and makes his stomach flip. His head becomes hazy from it, obsessively wanting more as the scent fades.
"Duty?" the teenager parrots unintelligibly.
"You are a son of the Almighty, a shepherd to lead the masses to a new dawn. My child, you are my fourth God of Revelation; of Death -and of, most importantly– of Revolution."
Gohan's winded. The information steals his very breath, and so he drops to a knee. "It's… surely not."
"You can gaze upon my splendour, and you know deep within yourself what you must achieve. No more can you hide from your one true path, Mori of Revelation. The Gods of Revelation before you gave their lives in order for you to continue their journey. Born from their ashes you stand. Born from their trials and tribulations, you are ready to carve your own path in the name of the Almighty. Born from godhood, you must stand true. Your skin has long since been shed, and snake you are no more, my son."
The teenager peers up and the gold he sees within Rixas and Quell, and even within himself, flashes from the tree. The ivory encapsulates the royal shimmer as the warmth basks over Gohan.
He understands now.
Manic breath hitches. "…You're the Almighty, aren't you?"
"I am all and everything. I am the ground you stand on, I am the air you breathe, I am even the sins you make for I am foundation of life itself. And you, Mori of Revelation, are a vessel for my will, my will for change and development of all the universes and of all the realms. This is what it means to be who you are."
Gohan brings a hand to his mouth, biting at his knuckle, terrified. This is not what he wants –not who he is—
"This is your destiny," continues the Almighty, having clearly interpreted Gohan's personal thoughts. "This is your honour."
"My family," Gohan dares defy, "What about my–"
That's when the pressure makes its reappearance. It pushes down so ferociously that Gohan falls down flat to his face, head wedged in the perfumed flowerbed as the onslaught grows stronger and stronger still. It's just like Quell's, Gohan realises –except harsher, more pure, and so painfully intense. The squeezing of his body makes him scream; an experience which can be matched by nothing else imaginable, and something that hurts Gohan in a place within he never knew existed until now.
And at a time as worse as any, that memory returns to him; the one garnered from the serenity candle the first time round.
It's his dad again, leaving him.
He watches it as it grows smaller with distance. It's moving away from him, the Turtle insignia growing miniscule as it shrinks and shrinks into obscurity.
Gohan wants to follow but his legs won't cooperate. They're thickly cemented down at the base of the tree, and he's dizzy from the pressure and from the wonderful perfume. It makes him wobble where he lies as if he's drunk.
The Almighty continues once more.
"Your family are your brothers, and your duty is to them and to the Great Cause. You are to lead the next generation, and you are to bring new life. It matters not under what pretence you do this. Gohan Son may be your mortal charade but the spirit is within you."
The teenager stares.
"Understand that there is no escaping the obligation to be carried, my child.
This is your fate.
You are but not a snake nor a sheep, you are a leader.
Now… be gone."
"Wake up, Mori. C'mon, get up. You're freaking me out."
Rixas?
"Mori –baby brother—come on, please."
When his eyes open the first thing he sees a pair of golden lights. They're so bright that they nearly blind him, shining against the black night sky. Gohan knows what they are right away, knows that he has a pair to match. When his eyesight finally adjusts he can make out the blanket of stars hanging in the background behind Rixas, the man who's currently cradling him like an infant.
The forest behind is a mismatched collection of black shapes, lonely except for the noises of the local night creatures.
"Mori," the man repeats, this time relieved. "Thank God. Oh, heavens. Fuck. Mori… I thought – after last time –you weren't breathing and I…"
Gohan pulls himself out of Rixas' hold. The memory of what the man did is still with him, but right now he just can't bring himself to even care. The only reminder is the darkened patch of skin atop the upper lip. It's swollen and looks like it hurts to touch. How Gohan managed it he has no idea.
Rixas sighs, shuddering as he watches Gohan figure out their surroundings. Never has someone looked so relieved.
"Brother… I thought–"
"I spoke with the Almighty," he then interrupts the god, voice weak, "and I…" His brows furrow, and the next bit chokes him. "I… think I understand, but…"
"Mori…"
Gohan's hands run through his hair again and again, desperate in motion. His emotions jump from one to ten in a matter of seconds. "Rixas… It told me about Revelation and…" he swallows, words decaying "I'm scared. I don't want to do this. I want to go back… I… "
Anguished, the teenager lowers into a tight ball. His knees knock against his chin and for the first time in a long time, he lets go. He truly lets go. Tears run rampant down his cheeks as raw sobs rip from the back of his throat.
"I'm ne-never going to Earth again," Gohan tells Rixas, voice hoarse, "I-I'm never going to see any of them ever again, am I?"
Rixas doesn't answer, instead kneeling into the dirt and bringing the teenager's head to rest on his chest. He's silent as Gohan cries and cries until he's completely spent, slowly running a hand up and down Gohan's back like Gohan would do for Goten. If anything, the action makes it all hurt more.
"Your family are your brothers, and your duty is to them."
Just… who am I?
Gohan looks up at Rixas' impassive face, and then closes his eyes. He presses his face into his brother's chest and he wills his own to stop hurting.
As the years start to pass, the pain never really lessens, but Gohan does grow stronger in spite of it.
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Speedy gal over here delivering a quick update, something which happens when you're too sick to do anything but write. Again, thanks KagariAsuha for editing this chapter (and being my nemesis in plot development for this fic in the future).
Thank you for the reviews, PMs and follows/favs on this story so far. It really means a lot to hear back, and I mention this a lot but it is like fuel for writers to continue. So even just a few words here and there are lovely to see. Oh, I should mention that FF is being really whack as of recent. Not to sound like your favourite YouTuber but if you follow this story then you'll see the updates for sure. Absolutely no pressure.
So story stuff, we're gonna see a bit of a time skip with Gohan the next time we see him. It's a part I've been wanting to get my teeth into for a while, but first we're gonna check in with our favourite resident sad boy Goten in the next chapter. This chapter is certainly a defining one for the story and we're gonna see some shifts, and for those who aren't sure about the role Gohan has been given; he's a God of Revelation along with Rixas, Quell and Famis (rip). I don't know what more to add without spelling it out, haha.
Anyway, thanks again for sticking with me on this -and see you on the next one! Cheers.
