Chapter Forty-One: Waking Up
I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as the steam from the shower cleared away.
When was the last time I'd seen my own reflection? I couldn't remember.
My hair had become unruly. I hadn't combed it in over a month, and I was okay with that. My sideburns were also starting to get a little scraggly, so I cleaned them up a bit with some scissors from the bathroom drawer.
I smiled at myself, mostly to see what I looked like when I smiled. Then I looked away from the mirror, toweled myself off, and exited the bathroom.
I looked away from the mirror, toweled myself off. I left the bathroom and walked down the hallway to my bedroom. I grabbed some fresh clothes and threw them on—oh man, I've missed wearing a shirt that hasn't been torn to ribbons, clean socks…and I won't even talk about having fresh boxers. There were no words.
After I got dressed, I headed out onto the balcony, staring down at the landscape below. Last time I'd looked out at my planet like this, I'd just arrived here after having stomped on a cruxite wineglass, having barely escaped the meteor that was about to obliterate my house. It was also the last time I'd seen my Sis before she vanished, too... I watched the sky rivers flowing through and among the clouds in their curved, mind-boggling patterns, the rainclouds that glowed with their soft purple light, the rolling hills down below, with the northeastern eaves of the Knightswood just barely visible in the distance.
And straight ahead, towards the horizon, the cluster of peaks that towered over all their surroundings. The Knight's Mountains. The Old One's Garden was the smallest of this world's three great forests, growing around and on the lower slopes of the Knight's Mountains. And winding its way into the distance towards the far-off peaks was the only river on this planet that flowed across the earth; the Forbidden River, fed by eight sky rivers that emptied into a giant lake. It was near that lake where I'd had to climb that ladder made of swords to convince the Treefolk that I was the Knight.
Man, that felt like a freakin' eternity ago...
There was going to be a council of war today, and I'd better get moving if I didn't want to miss it—the leadership of the Northern Fires had just arrived at the Forbidden River during the night, along with the bulk of their forces. Being the largest of the three clans, the Northerners had the largest fighting force by far. The area around the headwaters of the Forbidden River was bursting with consorts from all three tribes, making for an unprecedented sight since the time of the Old One. Usually, when members of all three tribes were present in such numbers, there was bloodshed.
I focused on my Aspect and levitated myself into the air. I glanced back at my home, taking one last good look at it, not sure when I'd be able to see it again…if ever.
Then I flew off, making my way towards the giant lake in the near distance.
I couldn't help but smile as I soared through the sky, breathing in the sweet scent of rainfall, relishing the feel of the cool breeze against my face. My Aspect continued to unconsciously deflect the raindrops that were in my path; when I flew, there were always a few raindrops that got past my Aspect, but not many. I was able to fly without getting very wet.
More Northerners were arriving when the consorts' giant camp came into view. I could see the stocky, thick-hooded cobras making their way down from the taller hills and ridges to the northeast, probably hailing from one of the more isolated Northerner clans. Set up along both shores of the Forbidden River was one of the most bizarre conglomerations of temporary dwellings I've ever seen—tents and cloth canopies of many different shapes, sizes, and colors…as well as Treefolk teepees. Lifebeasts roamed the edges of the camps and grazed from the grass on the surrounding hills—I think the consorts were using them as pack animals, but they obviously didn't have to keep the buffalo penned up, or anything, which struck me as equal parts unusual and awesome. Almost like having a horse whom you didn't have to secure every time you stopped for a rest.
The leadership of the combined forces seemed to have set up shop right near a familiar site, right in the centre of the massive encampment—a small peninsula of land formed by a curve in the Forbidden River. Close to the river bank were parallel wooden poles that jutted over a hundred feet up into the air, with metal blades connecting them to each other, creating a macabre sort of ladder. The Knight's Ladder, to be precise...and my ladder, to be technical.
Seeing the sword ladder again reminded me just how much I didn't miss it.
It was around midday, early afternoon when I arrived at the Forbidden River. I was greeted by cheers and loud exclamations as the consorts saw me arriving. I didn't really give much reaction—no dumb waving, no bows, no nods, no acknowledgments; I wasn't here to be a mascot or a celebrity, I was here to kill a Denizen. I couldn't afford to not take this seriously. And besides, I've never liked being the center of attention. I landed not far from the Knight's Ladder, almost instantly finding myself among familiar faces. A council fire was being built near the Knight's Ladder by a small group of Northerners, under Inuyyak's supervision.
Sleeping under a simple yellow canopy was Matlal, the ancient priest from the heart of the Desert Fires. He must've been a lot stronger than he looked to have traveled all the way here from Aztlán. As I neared his tent, he opened a single milky blue eye and watched me walk past before closing it again. I saw familiar faces from Clan Unagwe—the elder K'eyush, Tlanextic the Faithful... I saw Aiyana walking alongside Aumanil, the Unagwe clan chief. I'd been surprised to learn after the liberation of the High Council Fire that Aumanil was actually Aiyana's father. No, in case you were wondering, that didn't mean Aiyana was going to be the next clan chief—the position of clan chief was not a hereditary one; that, at least, was something all three of the tribes had in common.
Off on the opposite shore of the Forbidden River, I spotted a large group of young warriors drilling for battle, practicing with their Vis, their swords, and sometimes even with their bodies—unarmed combat. They were being led by an incredibly loud, foul-tempered, middle-aged Sand Dweller with white scales. Xolotl was certainly keeping himself busy… I hoped he was doing okay. I'd never gotten the chance to find out how he was doing after Anna brought us back to the present; I had to travel to the North and he'd agreed to rally the seven Sand Dweller clans, so we ended up going our separate ways almost immediately.
But I headed straight into one of the larger teepees near the Knight's Ladder. The front of the teepee was pulled open, partially exposing the interior. Glimmering Scales sat coiled up, feasting on a bowl of soup. And sitting opposite to Scales was his father, the maroon-scaled chieftain of Clan Nathair.
Burning Dusk smiled warmly as he saw me enter his teepee. "Welcome back, Knight." When he spoke, Scales twisted around. When the red-scaled cobra saw me, he actually came close to smiling, but he stopped himself and settled for a slight nod. That was Scales for you; he probably thought that showing he was happy to see me would cause him to spontaneously combust.
Scales and Dusk both rose and accompanied me back outside. Burning Dusk took in a deep breath through his nostrils, tasting the air with his tongue several times. The maroon-scaled clan chief gave a contented hum as he looked out at the massive camp that surrounded us. "Your mission to rally the other tribess wass obvioussly met with ssome ssuccess," he remarked.
"Yeah, well, I had some good help along the way," I replied, looking at Scales. "Kinda…kinda hard to believe we're actually doing this. I mean, I know everything's been working towards taking down Hyperion, but…"
"But now it iss no longer a disstant goal," Burning Dusk finished for me. "The thingss we fear alwayss sseem to ssneak up on uss like that."
I cleared my throat quietly, wandering with the two Treefolk towards the river bank. "You guys scared?"
That got a snort from Glimmering Scales. "Of coursse we are afraid," the red-scaled cobra grunted. "We would be foolss not to be."
"Having fear and facing it iss a greater sstrength than being immune to it," Burning Dusk said. He then frowned and gave a low grunt of his own—now I could see where Scales' trademark grunt came from. "Lissten to me… I'm already beginning to sspeak like an elder! I think I will go and sspar with that white-sscaled Sand Dweller, remind mysself that I'm not keeling over from old age jusst yet!"
"Wait, when's the war council gonna meet?" I asked.
"Tonight," Dusk answered. "In the darkness, when the council fire burnss brightesst. I will ssee you then. And Knight…" The clan chief turned back to me as he started to slither away, opting to give me some parting words. "It really iss good to have you back. You have lived up to the Old One'ss legacy and united the three tribess. Not only did you give uss back our hope…you alsso gave uss a future. You gave uss back our fire, our Vis. Thank you for that. And whether the battle ahead goess for or againsst uss…every persson on thiss world knowss what you have done for uss, and we will not ssoon forget it."
And with that, Burning Dusk left us. Thankfully, he left before I could give him an answer…and I was thankful for that because I had no fucking clue what to say. I'd actually been really moved by what he'd said to me, and I wasn't so good with words when I got emotional.
I took in a few deep breaths and turned my attention back to Scales. "C'mon, dude. Let's go spar for a bit."
Wake up! Wake the fuck up!
My head snapped forward for the umpteenth time, jolting me back awake, but luckily enough no one had noticed yet.
I was in the middle of the war council that was occurring between the leaders of the three tribes. Arguments concerning who would be leading and coordinating the attack, as well as the best way to go about attacking Hyperion's palace, were being thrown left and right. The Northerners seemed to want to devise a method to topple the walls of Hyperion's Palace, the Treefolk wanted a small group of warriors to infiltrate the place and open the gates from the inside, and the Sand Dwellers seemed to favor a simple direct assault. Turns out that while my consorts are a brave, wise, intelligent people…they really kinda sucked at planning a battle, unless they've been really working at it for a few years. Their form of warfare has always been in the form of clan feuds, or clashes between entire tribes in the worst cases.
Large-scale battles, sieges, however… I mean, the civilization of these cobra people seemed to be heavily influenced by elements of Native American society, and Native Americans aren't exactly renowned for their skill at siege warfare. They didn't seem to be able to completely wrap their minds around the idea that the defenders of the Denizen's palace would not be fighting fair.
Still, though. There really wasn't much for me to say or do. Ultimately, I was even less qualified, I feel, to take a leadership role in the attack on the palace. I'm not a strategist or a tactician. I'm an eighteen-year-old theatre kid with the unusual ability to manipulate energy. Cool beans. But I was still a teenager, and I didn't know the first thing about how to fuck up Hyperion's shit.
Well, maybe that's not quite true. I guess I'd be able to handle Hyperion when I encountered him, though my confidence in winning such an encounter was shaky at best…the problem was just getting to him. The fucking palace stood in our way. Hordes of underlings, Dersite soldiers armed with energy rifles… This was going to get bloody.
It had already been decided that I would lead the first wave. Of course, by 'lead' I actually mean something along the lines of being one of the first ones to storm the wall. Climbing poles had been constructed the day before—we would be using them in the first wave. Crossing the distance between where the trees of the Old One's Garden fell away and Hyperion's Wall would be difficult, but I believed the consorts would be able to defend themselves easily with their Vis. And I would be able to lighten the burden a little bit with my protective energy field, though I wouldn't be able to sustain it without draining myself of energy. And I couldn't fight Hyperion while I was unconscious, now, could I?
It was the Dersites that had me kind of nervous. They weren't supposed to be here. And I wasn't sure how, even with their numbers, my consorts would be able to hold up against something like those Dersite energy weapons. I also knew that I was going to find out, anyway. Maybe. I mean, to find something like that out, this fucking war council shindig would have to come to an end, and it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon.
My head fell forward and I stopped myself from nodding off yet again. I don't know what was up with me—I feel fine all day; get showered, come to the Forbidden River, spar with Scales, eat some dinner, wait for nightfall, go to the war council... Then suddenly, maybe five or seven minutes ago, I begin to feel extremely drowsy. I would start to hear the sound of distant shouting, almost as if I were hearing someone while underwater. Someone shouting for me to wake up. Then I would realize that my eyes were closed and I had dozed off, so I'd catch myself quickly before I fell all the way asleep.
No matter how hard I tried to stay awake, though, I couldn't get that damn shouting out of my head. My sleepiness was just getting worse and worse, until it got to the point where I couldn't even keep my head upright, anymore. I finally decided to give in, leaned over to Burning Dusk, whispered, "Hey, I'm gonna go grab some shuteye—I'm all burnt out."
"A Knight needss his resst," the chieftain of Clan Nathair nodded in agreement, speaking quietly so as not to be overhead by anyone else. "You will be ssent for when the council iss concluded."
I got the feeling that Burning Dusk would have liked nothing more than to have joined me. Unfortunately, it probably wouldn't have looked good for a clan chief to duck out of a war council to take a nap, so he was here to stay. Me? Not so much. The Knight of Force slept whenever the fuck he wanted to.
I slipped away from the council fire without anyone noticing, heading towards my teepee. I nearly lost consciousness twice before I made it there—whatever was making me fall asleep was getting even more persistent. I was constantly yawning, and I couldn't get the faint shouting out of my mind. I just wanted to pass out and make it all go away.
I pushed aside the entrance flap of my teepee, and the last thing I remember was the feeling of the fur blankets as I collapsed onto them, unable to continue standing up. I was out cold before my head even hit the ground.
"Wake up!"
The shouting slowly got louder and louder, until I realized that it was no longer part of my dream. Someone was actually shouting at me.
"WAKE UP! WAKE THE FUCK UP!"
I cracked open my eyelids to the sight of a redshifted bedroom and a visibly irritated Tami Abramov looking down on me.
Um. Okay. Lot to unpack, there. I mean, Tami's cool, and all, but we were never really close enough for her to break into my bedroom and creepily watch me sleep. Why did the left side of my face feel so sore? And what was I doing back on Prospit's moon? I'd left my dream self on the Battlefield. Theo wasn't going to be happy.
I noticed Cruz standing over by one of the windows with a joint tucked behind his ear.
"Took you long enough." Tami hopped off my bed, shaking out one of her hands.
"What the shit?" I sat up, rubbing my sore left cheek. "How am I back on Prospit? And why does my face feel tenderized?"
"Sorry for the rude wakeup." Cruz hauled me out of bed and pulled me over towards the window, through which I glimpsed a fiery, smoke-covered Prospit in the distant sky. "Things have gone a bit crazy and we could use your help."
"Um." I gulped. "Why is Prospit on fire?"
"Let's go!" Tami jumped through the window and flew up into the sky, followed by Cruz.
What am I gonna do? Fuck around here while my friends have an adventure? I levitated through the window and soared after Tami and Cruz, quickly catching up to them. It dawned on me that Cruz was actually flying! How about that? Ever since the death of his waking self, weeks ago, Cruz's consciousness had taken up permanent residence within the body of his dream self, resulting in the apparent loss of his dream self's previous ability to fly. But that no longer seemed to be the case. Maybe it was psychosomatic?
"Okay, seriously, what the fuck happened?" I asked Cruz, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind as we flew. "Why is Prospit dressed in an apocalypse costume?"
"Derse happened," Cruz replied. "They're bombing the fuck out of everything and landing strike forces all over the city."
"Is the White Queen okay?" I asked.
Tami rolled her eyes. "Yeah, she's gone to the spa for a massage while her home burns down."
"If she isn't dead yet, she will be soon if we don't hurry up," added Cruz. "We need your firepower."
"Not my magnetic personality?" I asked, earning a snort from Tami.
As we flew deeper into the dark sky-space separating Prospit from the Golden Moon, following the great golden chain linking the two celestial bodies, I spotted the dim glow of red hull lights in the distance. Two Dersite battleships surrounded by five smaller destroyers came gradually into view, and I could see the larger battleships firing salvo after salvo of energy torpedoes into the dark smoke clouds obscuring Prospit below.
What I didn't see was the Prospitian Navy. "Where the fuck is the Home Fleet?" I exclaimed. "There should be a lot more Prospitian firepower in the area. How could any of these Dersite ships have gotten so far without showing up on radar? Don't tell me every fucking radar on Prospit decided to stop working."
"Anyone else smell a rat?" asked Tami.
Before I could answer, a sudden salvo of bluish-white energy torpedoes surprised us from behind, whooshing over our heads towards the nearby Dersite battlegroup and striking the larger battleships. Energy shields flared to life around both battleships, absorbing the brunt of the impacts. By the time all of the torpedoes struck their targets, one battleship was left with flickering shields while the other had lost its shields completely, exposing it to further attack.
A second barrage of energy torpedoes followed closely behind, crashing again into the Dersite battleships. "Holy fucking fuck!" I screeched as the unshielded battleship exploded, sending geysers of flame and pulverized metal debris flying in all directions. "Where did that come from?"
The five smaller destroyers assumed a new defensive posture, placing themselves between the one surviving battleship and the unseen source of the surprise attack. As one, the five destroyers fired their own salvo of smaller torpedoes straight towards us. I held my breath as the Dersite missiles passed overhead and turned around, watching them grow smaller and smaller until finally they detonated, revealing the energy shields of another battlegroup of naval warships somewhere beyond the Golden Moon. As the fiery display calmed down, I was even able to make out the unmistakable glow of distant blue hull lights.
"Must be Prospitian ships," observed Cruz. "Maybe elements of the Home Fleet are regrouping?"
"And we're caught in the crossfire. If those battlegroups launch fighters at each other, we'll get shredded," said Tami. "Enough fucking around, Cruz. Teleport us to the Golden Keep."
Um, what?
"Teleport?" I squeaked. "Did you say teleport?"
"All three of us?" Cruz shook his head. "Do you think I'm Chief O'Brien in the fucking transporter room? Do you think I can just 'set quantity to three' and hit the teleport button in my mind?"
"This is a joke, right?" I gulped. Fucking hell! Since when could Cruz teleport? "Right? Cruz? Buddy? Have you at least tested it? A few hundred times? Before using it on me?"
Teleportation is a fucking nightmare, philosophically speaking. Do you actually get transported to a new location? Or do you just get destroyed and replaced by a copy with your memories?
Light flashed in the distance beyond the Golden Moon as the Prospitian battlegroup fired a third salvo of torpedoes towards the surviving Dersite battleship, which by now had lost its shields. This time, one of the torpedoes passed close enough for us to feel some of the residual heat.
"Okay, fine. I'll try. But I won't put us in the Golden Keep," insisted Cruz. "The Dersites could be storming it as we speak. Would you want to rematerialize in someone's line of fire?"
"Just get us as close as you can," said Tami. "And make it snappy."
Four of the six torpedoes slammed into the surviving Dersite battleship, causing it to list severely. Small detonations rippled across the hull before coalescing into a blinding explosion of fire and molten debris which consumed the entire vessel.
"Fucking hell." Cruz closed his eyes. "This is not a healthy way to learn." He took a deep breath and got himself settled. "It's your fault if some of your atoms get misplaced. Or if you reappear with your hands on backwards. Your fault."
"Well fuck, dude, don't say that." I shuddered, reflexively clenching my fists, unclenching them, and shaking out my hands to get rid of the thoughts of body horror. This method met with limited success. "If you scramble me up, I'll steal that joint from behind your ear and smoke it without you."
"Okay. You? Shush." Even while shushing me, Tami cast a quick, nervous glance at her own hands before turning on Cruz. "You? TELEPORT."
"I'm trying." Cruz took another breath, frowning. "It's like trying to solve three puzzles simultaneously while all the pieces are constantly moving around. When two are nearly solved, the third falls apart and I have to start over."
"Take my hand." Tami grabbed one of Cruz's hands, gesturing for me to do the same. "You too."
Reluctantly I took Cruz's other hand, closing my eyes and steeling myself for teleportation. Was this really happening? "I better still be me on the other side of this. If I get destroyed and-"
"-and replaced by a copy with your memories, you'll flip every table in existence and tell us you told us so," Tami finished for me. "We get it. Now take my fucking hand."
Jesus fuck, Tami's in a really bad mood today. I grabbed her offered hand, completing the circle, and braced myself for teleportation. Or annihilation. Whichever. Perhaps both?
"We're part of you now." Tami squeezed Cruz's hand. "Teleport us as if you were teleporting yourself."
Cruz, eyes still closed, raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How about that?"
Even as I felt my body disintegrate into atoms and molecules, my consciousness remained intact, and I could still kind of imagine myself holding onto Cruz's arm, so I kept doing that at all costs. I believe I'm taking this rather well, don't you think? I mean, fuck. My body just got broken the fuck down into goddamn fucking atoms and subatomic particles.
Oh, fuck.
Where are we? I can't even see anything.
Fuck.
Jesus shit-gobbling Christ.
Make it stop.
After an instant, or an eternity, the particles of my body snapped back together and I found myself holding hands with Tami and Cruz on a deserted, pulverized street in what had once been a beautiful Prospitian neighborhood, coughing on the acrid smoky air. I could hear people screaming in the distance, along with the subdued roar of mass energy rifle discharge. Letting go of Tami and Cruz, checking to make sure my limbs all faced the right way, I declared, "That felt all kinds of weird. Zero stars out of five. Would not recommend to a friend."
Cruz frowned at me. "Getting you here intact without losing any of your atoms along the way doesn't even get me one star?"
"That's fair." I nodded. "One star out of a hundred. Still would not recommend."
"Where are we?" Tami asked, looking around. "Are we close?"
Cruz nodded. "We're in the Garden District. I used to take walks around here in my dreams when I was a kid. We're just off the Grand Boulevard and only a few blocks away from the Golden Keep." He started walking down the little street towards the sounds of nearby fighting. "The Garden District is full of cozy little tucked-away neighborhoods like this. They're really beautiful when they're not on fire."
"Looks like everyone left," observed Tami, peering through several ground-floor windows we passed and seeing no signs of life within. We followed Cruz around the next corner and almost walked into a fireteam of five surprised Dersite commandos.
For a moment, we all just stood there staring at each other in almost comical disbelief.
The ranking commando broke the strange moment by shouting, "Weapons free!" and taking aim with his rifle.
Without thinking, I telekinetically picked up all five commandos and dashed them against the stone front wall of the nearest house. Each of the commandos crumpled to the cobblestones and did not get back up. I don't know if they were unconscious or dead, and I wasn't going to stop to take anyone's pulse.
Cruz had thrown himself to the ground, and now he picked himself back up while Tami, who had only just nocked an arrow in the compound bow she'd retrieved from her sylladex, arched an eyebrow and grunted, "Not bad."
Wow. Coming from Tami Abramov, that was high praise.
"We need to get above this mess." Tami began to levitate, rising several feet off the ground. "The streets are too dangerous."
"Not too high," I cautioned, floating into the air with Cruz and following Tami up to the rooftops. "Commandos are good shots. If they see us, they'll try to snipe us."
"We'll hug the rooftops," clarified Tami. "Let's go."
"Let's get a look at the area first," suggested Cruz, popping up above the rooftops so he could see more of our surroundings. "Flying in blind is asking for trouble."
As I floated upwards and joined Cruz, the Grand Boulevard came into view, stretching from the Golden Keep all the way across my field of view to the skyscrapers of downtown Prospit in the distance. I could see a company of Prospitian royal marines advancing slowly up the boulevard towards the Golden Keep, but about fifty or so Dersite commandos blocked their path.
Turning my head to the right, I then saw the damaged Golden Keep with smoke pouring from fires which burned within the palace compound. One of the castle towers had already collapsed and several more appeared on the brink. Members of the Prospitian garrison on the ramparts desperately fired their rifles down at a Dersite assault force which I could not see.
"Holy fuck, we're out of time," swore Tami. "They've surrounded-"
"Wait a sec," I interrupted, earning a frown from Tami. Whatever. Right now, the simple act of breathing would probably earn a frown from Tami. Pointing towards the combat unfolding on the Grand Boulevard, I asked, "What's going on over there?"
The Dersite rearguard had established across the boulevard a haphazard defensive line towards which the Prospitian royal marines continued to advance. Stationed in the windows of buildings lining either side of the broad thoroughfare, Prospitian machinegun nests and sharpshooters covered the royal marines' advance by maintaining a relentless storm of fire on the fifty commandos. The intense suppressing fire forced the commandos to hide for cover in side alleys, behind the wrecks of burnt-out vehicles, and within makeshift foxholes provided by the artillery craters gouged into the Grand Boulevard by the ongoing orbital bombardment.
What a fucking shitshow.
"They're pinned like butterflies," remarked Cruz.
Huh? "Pinned like butterflies?" I echoed. "That's not a real colloquialism."
"Yeah it is," insisted Cruz. "You know, like butterflies pinned in one of those fucked up corkboard-and-glass butterfly corpse collections?"
"If we're declaring open season on new colloquialisms, two can play at this game." I cleared my throat and in a spectacular southern accent I declared, "Them Dersites down there're hedged up righter than a baby in a well-fed baby-eatin' cannibal's belly."
Okay, not my best work. Especially the accent. Why the fuck did I need to do an accent?
"Bruh." Cruz stared at me, justifiably bewildered. "What is it with you and dead babies?"
"You don't know the baby's dead," I retorted. "The cannibal could've swallowed it whole."
Cruz's bewilderment could only escalate from here. "How would the baby breathe inside a cannibal's stomach?"
"With great difficulty." I shrugged. "Did anyone ever say the baby would live for more than a few seconds?"
"Are either of you capable of taking this seriously?!" Tami separated me and Cruz by flying up between us. Do I even need to bother describing how pissed she looked? Tami always looks pissed. "People are dying all around us, and you're riffing about dead babies. It's not a good look."
"It's a defense mechanism, Tam." Cruz swallowed, clearly fighting nausea as he watched a Dersite commando die, shot through the head while easing out of cover to aim at a royal marine. "This entire scenario, everything, everything about this is absurd. We can laugh or cry about it, so why not laugh?"
Another round of orbital bombardment burst suddenly through the dense smoke overhead. The cluster of falling white streaks of light arced across the sky and slammed thunderously into some unfortunate neighborhood on the other side of the Golden Keep, which was silhouetted against the intense swell of light. The resulting shockwave shook the rooftops and shattered quite a few nearby windows before I even registered the roar of the explosion. Within seconds, a new column of smoke gushed into the dark sky.
As I watched the smoke, I noticed movement in the clouds. "Dropships coming in," I warned, pointing at a tri of Dersite transports swooping down through the smoky veil to make a hot landing in the middle of the Grand Boulevard. Clamped to the underside of each dropship was a heavy battle tank. "They're bringing in armor."
The dropships descended to within ten feet of the ground before dropping their tanks. Meanwhile, a platoon of Dersite commandos emerged by squads from the side hatches of each dropship. Each of the three commando squads formed up behind the protection of one of the tanks, and the tanks started to rumble forward.
"Armor and infantry support. Good for them," I remarked, thinking of Marshal Michel Ney's fatal mistake at Waterloo. "If those tanks take out the Prospitian machine gunners, it's game over. The commandos will be free to shoot back. The royal marines will have to retreat or die in droves trying to break through. Either way, they'll never reach the Golden Keep in time."
"Neither will we if we get bogged down out here," argued Tami. "The Queen needs us. Right now. Let the royal marines do their part so we can do ours."
The tanks, rumbling slowly down the Grand Boulevard to reinforce the Dersite rearguard, took careful aim with their main cannons and fired in unison, sending three shells streaking over the beleaguered commandos' heads. Three machinegun nests fell forever silent as the tank shells hit their targets and detonated, reducing the strength of the Prospitians' suppressing fire. Clearly the commandos noticed this, too, because they started peeking out from behind their cover and shooting at the Prospitian royal marines.
After watching several royal marines die, I decided to take matters into my own hands. "Fuck this," I muttered, rocketing forward through the air and swooping down towards the Dersite tanks. Yeah, I know, this was kind of reckless, but it's the sort of thing I've done again and again back on the Skaian Battlefield without too much trouble.
Twin jets of flame surged from both of my hands and combined into a larger inferno which blasted the three tanks, incinerating several of the escorting commandos and scattering the rest. I concentrated my fire, focusing it like sunlight through a magnifying glass until it resembled a gigantic blowtorch, and I directed all of my built-up firepower onto the tanks.
Holy fuck, this was exhilarating.
The outer armor plating of the tanks began to glow cherry red as the armored vehicles ground to a halt and slagged to one side. Hatches popped open, allowing the tanks' surviving crew members to scramble out of their metal ovens. All of them were on fire, flailing around like living torches.
Something punched me in the chest, and I lost my breath as one of my lungs collapsed. Had I just been shot?
I was falling. The world spun around and around as I tumbled out of the sky. I didn't even think to brace for a terrible impact as the ground rushed up to meet me, but much to my confusion, the impact never came. A strong grip closed around my waist and yanked me back into the air. My ears were filled with horrible screeching, and after a moment I realized it was Tami tearing me a new one. She must have followed me out and caught me at the last moment. Now she carried me back towards safety, so, fine. I guess she'd more than earned the right to eviscerate me. What I'd just done had been more impulsive than smart.
Although I knew Tami had profanity down to an artform, I had trouble understanding her words. After a few seconds, which felt more like minutes, I felt a hard surface under my back. Tami had put me down and was examining my chest wound. I looked up at her, focusing on her emerald green eyes as my adrenaline gave way to excruciating pain blossoming throughout my torso.
I heard Tami and Cruz arguing and tried to speak, but succeeded only in coughing up blood and spattering it all over my chin and pajamas. This, too, was not my best work.
When Tami touched my chest, the most extraordinary thing happened: my pain melted completely away. Gone. As if she had reached into me, grabbed the pain, and somehow pulled it out through my wound, which itched and vibrated, shining with bright emerald light. Then the light faded, clarity returned, and it was with profound relief that I sat up, taking a deep breath with my newly re-inflated lung. "Ow."
"Welcome back," said Cruz.
"Idiot." Tami grabbed my hand and helped me back up to my feet. "I almost got shot because of you."
"Sorry." I touched the unblemished skin where my wound had been just moments ago. "Thanks for saving me."
"Next time you think about doing something that stupid, warn us first," admonished Tami.
"Well, did it work?" I walked over to the rooftop's edge and peered down at the Grand Boulevard below, watching the Dersite rearguard's defensive line crumble as the Prospitian royal marines came close enough to start lobbing grenades. "Looks like it worked."
"Yeah, and while you were busy going towards the light, I had to waste precious time bringing you back." Tami took off flying towards the Golden Keep without bothering to ask us to follow. Cruz and I launched ourselves into the sky after her, and she added, "We might be too late. The Queen could be dead by now, for all we know."
Okay, I get it, I acted recklessly, but Tami's constant acidy 'fuck you' vibe was growing tiresome. "Look, I said I was sorry, alright? You're a good friend. Don't blame me for that."
"I'm just saying, you could've been a lot smarter about it," said Tami. "You made yourself into such an easy target. It was idiotic."
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. What would you have done?"
"You're telekinetic!" exclaimed Tami. "Use your imagination! Pick up the tanks and drop them upside down. Rip the treads off the wheels. Lodge something in the main cannons before they fire, or bend the main cannons out of shape."
Okay, some of those were pretty good ideas which I hadn't even thought of in the split-second I'd taken to make my decision to intervene. But I was feeling salty now, so I said, "Oh sure, I'll just bend metal and perform tank gymnastics. Easy."
"What's so impossible about bending metal?" asked Tami, leading us on a wide arc around several huge columns of smoke billowing up from an entire city block of burning rowhomes. "Have you ever tried?"
"Toph could bend metal," interjected Cruz. "Took her a few tries, but she managed."
That wasn't helpful at all. "Is this the Avatar universe?" I asked Cruz. "Do I look like a fictional character to you?"
Another salvo of torpedoes shrieked down from orbit, tearing through the ashen clouds less than a mile ahead of us and passing uncomfortably close overhead.
"Eyes!" screamed Tami. "Cover your-"
The torpedoes detonated somewhere behind us, nearly whiting out my vision for a moment. A surge of heat and wind blasted us from behind, forcing me to readjust to avoid being flipped head over heels like Cruz. I did not turn around to survey the damage. Why bother? After Cruz recovered from his uncontrolled somersaulting, he looked ahead at Tami then glanced over at me, making sure we were still with him. I gave him a wave and said, "I'm still here."
Tami led the way, descending into the airspace over the Golden Keep. Now I could see dozens of Dersite commandos pushing through the shattered front gates while hundreds more waited their turn outside, shooting at the Prospitians still clinging to their increasingly precarious position on the ramparts. One squad had already fought its way across the palace compound's front lawns and gardens and was in the process of attaching breaching charges to the sealed entrance doors of the White Queen's citadel. Once the charges were set, the commandos stacked up behind their sergeant, who hit the detonator and blasted the doors open.
An energy bolt seared through the air inches away from my face. I noticed several Dersites shooting at me from the Golden Keep's front lawns, and they must have been spreading the word because more and more commandos started looking up and taking aim with their rifles. My breath caught in my throat as I realized we were caught dead to rights without any cover. Maybe I could snap their necks from a distance? All at the same time? If I didn't try-
The commandos melted away, along with the Golden Keep, the battle, and everything else.
Once again, my body unraveled into formlessness, like light passing through a synapse but finding no neuron waiting to receive it. If I still had a mouth, I would be using it to scream. Then, as quickly as this strange experience had come, it passed, and I found myself standing under an apple tree in the White Queen's arboretum, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Oh fuck!" My body was back! Did I have all my fucking fingers? Recoiling from Cruz, I flexed my hands and fingers, then my feet and toes, to make sure nothing was missing. "Fucking fuck, dude, some fucking warning, next time? Please and fuck you?"
Cruz frowned at me. "Couldn't quite make out what you just said, but it sounded like you were trying to thank me for saving your life?"
"Um." Tami, clutching her stomach, face contorted with pain, managed only a single step before collapsing face-first, and into the floor she declared in a muffled voice. "I'm gonna need a sec."
Before I could even react, Cruz was already kneeling at Tami's side, rolling her onto her back and wincing at all the blood. "Tam?"
"Will you... calm down?" Tami clasped tightly with both hands the wound in her stomach and closed her eyes. "Stop distracting me."
Cruz mumbled something about needing to find disinfectant, but I took him by the arm and gently pulled him away. "She's working," I said. "Let her work." Seriously, like, Cruz had just watched Tami heal me literally minutes ago. Had he forgotten she was the Muse of Life? Was there something going on between those two?
Soft green light shined from Tami's stomach wound, growing bright enough to be seen through the flesh of her hands and spreading across the rest of her body. Her skin and muscle knitted themselves back together until the bleeding stopped and it looked as if she had never been wounded at all. The emerald light of Life faded mostly away, except for a faint shimmer which lingered over Tami at the edge of sight, like a barely visible aura, and she sat up.
"Are you okay?" asked Cruz.
"Peachy." Tami stood and dusted herself off, looking around and admiring the azaleas, sunflowers, apple trees, and everything else the White Queen had growing in her most cherished garden. The windows offered a less appetizing view of the smoking ruins of the Garden District surrounding the Golden Keep. "What's all this?"
"I had to pick a place before we got shot and this was the first that came to mind," replied Cruz, heading for the exit. "We're at the top of the Golden Keep's tallest tower. You've never been up here?"
Tami shook her head. "Nope."
"It's the White Queen's arboretum. This is actually where I first met her when I was a kid." Cruz pointed to the largest azalea bush in the arboretum, which sported beautiful pink blossoms. "The Queen was pruning those azaleas, right over there, and when I floated in through one of the windows, she dropped everything to come over and give me a hug. Told me she'd been expecting me for a long time." He slid open the exit door, stepping into the unlit stairwell beyond, where a stone transportalizer awaited, built into the floor next to the stairs which descended into the citadel. "This will take us straight to the throne room. Or we could play it safe and take the stairs-"
"No time for that." Tami stepped onto the stone platform and immediately vanished.
Cruz and I looked at each other, sharing a moment of exasperation before following Tami.
After twice having my body taken apart and put back together by Cruz's teleportation sorcery, passing through a transportalizer felt refreshingly straightforward. Still weird, of course, but without any anxiety or wondering whether I would lose some of myself along the way.
When I rematerialized in a back corner of the White Queen's throne room, the muffled roar of combat suddenly became very loud. The throne room's doors had been shattered by some kind of explosion, allowing me to see Prospitian royal marines fighting for their lives in the grand hall against the onslaught of Dersite commandos. Already, the Dersites had forced their way inside, captured a third of the entrance hall, and from what I could see it would not be long until they took the throne room.
Only after my initial processing of the battle unfolding in the entrance hall did I notice the dozens of wounded royal marines lying on the floor. Some groaned miserably; others stared with sullen silence at the vaulted ceiling, waiting for the arrival of either death or a medic. Whichever came first. Two exhausted medics made their way from one patient to the next, administering bandages and antiseptic while performing triage to separate the dying from those who could be saved. Several of the golden royal tapestries adorning the throne room's walls had been torn down by a pair of lightly-wounded royal marines who worked feverishly to tear the fabric into bandage-sized strips.
I looked down at my feet and saw that I was standing next to a mortally wounded royal marine who lay on the floor, and I threw up in my mouth a little bit. How did I know he was mortally wounded? Well, when someone has a huge bloody hole in their chest deep enough for you to see ribs and a weakly beating heart, do you think they're going to be around for next year's holidays? It doesn't take a doctor to answer that question. I made eye contact with the dying Prospitian and was horrified to see that he was still awake.
"Snap out of it." Tami took me by the shoulders and walked me towards the throne room's shattered doors. She pointed to the Dersite commandos and said, "Go and kill them, would you?"
I took a deep breath, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants. "Only if you compose a symphony in my honor."
"I'll call it Ode to a Chode if you don't hurry up," Tami threatened, returning to the royal marine with the blown-out chest and kneeling next to him, laying hands on the dying Prospitian's ghastly wound.
Alright, time to snuff out some lives. I needed a pick-me-up, so I conjured some fire around my hands and charged into the grand entrance hall, howling, "LEEROOOY JENNKINS!" at the top of my lungs.
No, I don't give a shit if you think that was too over the top. Too late. It happened. It's done. But was it too over the top? God damn it, maybe I should have screamed something else. The real Leeroy Jenkins got his entire team killed because he was so reckless, and I've been very reckless.
I sprinted past the bewildered royal marines and their defenses. Once clear, I leapt into the air and levitated quickly up to the ceiling. Drawing deeply upon my Aspect, I felt the raw power of Force coursing through my body as though I were plugged into a star, and another roaring inferno exploded from my hands. I focused on the commandos leading the Dersite advance, filling the entire width of the grand hall with fire It was not enough to incinerate, but it certainly burned a few commandos and stopped the rest in their tracks. The respite would only last for a moment, but that was all I needed.
Before the fire cleared, I let out a raw-throated yell and struck forward with pure kinetic energy, knocking dozens of commandos off their feet like bowling pins. None of this was particularly lethal, but it didn't need to be. The Dersites' momentum of attack had been wrecked. Seizing on the opportunity, the Prospitian royal marines broke cover and unleashed hell upon their enemies, shooting the commandos down before they could stand back up.
"Move up!" I shouted back to the Prospitians, who emerged from behind their defenses. "Stop hiding behind furniture and help me move the fuck up!"
My attacks had so far spared those commandos fortunate enough to be at the far end of the grand hall, but that was about to change. I broadened my focus and lifted more than a hundred small rock and glass shards from the floor ahead, firing them like a gigantic shotgun shell into the remaining commandos, shredding several on the spot and sending their body parts flying. Many more fell bleeding to the floor, pierced by sharp fragments of debris.
By now, the surviving twenty or thirty Prospitian royal marines caught up with me and charged with raw-throated yells into the discombobulated enemy, shooting and bayonetting many wounded Dersites on the spot. The remaining commandos clearly had not expected to be caught in a sudden bloody melee, and they struggled to regroup, but I did not let them. Wherever I saw Dersites trying to gather, I lobbed fireball after fireball, To keep them scattered and off-balance, I lobbed fireball after fireball wherever I saw Dersites trying to gather.
One Dersite even tried to win a "Commando of the Year" award by running straight at me with a knife, having lost his rifle in the melee. Before I could even react, a nearby Prospitian royal marine shot the oncoming commando twice in the chest and a third time in the shoulder, blowing the Dersite off his feet. The royal marine hurried over and thrust her bayonet through the writhing Dersite's neck, bringing an end to the commando's pain.
The royal marines did not take prisoners. Within minutes, the only Dersites left in the great hall were dead, unconscious, or playing possum. As the royal marines drove the final surviving commandos outside through the blown-open entrance doors, I fought the temptation to continue pursuing the enemy. Maybe I could help with the battle raging outside the citadel, but would it be worth leaving my friends unprotected?
Turning away from the combat outside, I walked down the length of the great hall and returned to my friends. "Alright, bitches!" I strode triumphantly into the throne room, but received little in the way of a grand reception. Tami was hard at work healing the wounded while Cruz pointed out which ones she should move to next, and the number of wounded Prospitians lying on the floor had decreased by nearly three quarters. Neither of my friends noticed me. Not even the White Queen or White Guardian, poring over their holographic battle map and receiving updates from a steady stream of messengers, had noticed my return. "Great hall is secure." Had I not been loud enough? "Don't all thank me at once."
The White Guardian looked up from his holographic battle map, nodding discreetly to his Home Guards. Ten of the thirteen elite guards spread out and took up defensive positions near the throne room's entrance. Of those ten, the most senior in rank proceeded into the great hall and took command of any royal marines who remained, marching them outside to join the rest of the battle. As the great hall emptied, relative quiescence settled once more over the throne room, interrupted only by frequent floor-shuddering explosions from the orbital bombardment tearing apart the city outside.
"Thank you, Adam." The White Queen made eye contact with me and nodded. "I am in your debt."
"Nah." Well, shucks, am I blushing? "Friends don't help friends out of obligation. And debts suck. I used to live in a debt-based economy, you know."
"We should go to the front gates," Cruz suggested. "Those friendlies on the Grand Boulevard should be here any moment. We'll be the anvil they crush the Dersites on."
The White Guardian shook his head impatiently. "The marines will take care of it. We are not going anywhere."
Before any of us could argue, a sudden explosion consumed part of the wall behind where Cruz stood, blowing him off his feet and sending him skidding across the throne room floor until his head smacked loudly into the opposite wall. The blast had thrown Tami several yards, and I saw her sitting up and staring at a shard of stone lodged in her upper right arm. The dust and smoke settled, revealing a gaping hole in the wall large enough for a person to walk through.
Home Guards hurried over to help Cruz and Tami, but I was far enough from the explosion to avoid getting hurt, so I wasted no time in launching a fresh torrent of fire into the hole in the wall. Whoever was on the other side would have a fun time trying to walk through a concentrated inferno without being carbonized.
My only warning was Tami shouting, "Hey!" before I felt a needle enter the back of my neck. What the fuck? I reflexively swatted the air behind me and felt my hand make contact with someone's face, twisting around to see that I'd just bitch-slapped one of a pair of Prospitian Home Guards who had snuck up behind me.
What the everlasting fuck was going on?
The Home Guards gave me no time to ponder. The one I'd hit graced me with a sledgehammer punch to the side of my head, sending me spinning, followed by the other Home Guard shoving me to the floor. As I tried to invoke Force, I grew very dizzy and nauseous. Grogginess spread throughout my body, my limbs turned into leaden weights, and by the time the Home Guards restrained me, I was too weak to fight back. My muscles would not respond properly.
"What is the meaning of this?!" exclaimed the White Queen. While my captors dragged me over to the nearest wall and left me in a heap, I saw the Queen struggling against the three Home Guards who'd restrained her. "You dare lay hands on your queen?!"
I could still move, but only barely. My Aspect remained maddeningly out of reach. I could not conjure any fire. I couldn't even lift a pebble.
"Havin' a bad day?" leered a familiar raspy voice from the hole in the wall, where I could see dark, shadowy forms moving in the smoke-filled corridor beyond. "Good. I'm gonna make it worse."
Jack Noir emerged from the smoke, splattered with someone else's blood, and strolled into the throne room. A wickedly sharp hunting knife gleamed in his blood-soaked right hand. Twelve commandos followed him in, quietly fanning out across the width of the throne room and executing any remaining wounded Prospitians before aiming their rifles at the Home Guards.
The White Guardian stepped forward to face Jack Noir, hand resting on the hilt of his longsword. "This is not what we agreed."
Oh, fuck. We're fucked. We are absolutely fucked.
Jack's knife twitched. "You wanted a regime change. You're about to get one."
The White Queen grew very still and ceased her struggling, looking at the White Guardian with a gaze of ice.
"Prospit was to be left unspoiled." The White Guardian tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. "On that, I was very clear."
"I agreed to destroy the White King's army on the Battlefield of Skaia." Jack's malicious leer soured into a scowl. "Did I ever agree not to make any pitstops along the way?"
"Who will help you depose your own Queen?" asked the Guardian, furtively slipping his non-sword hand into his belt pouch. "You need me. Otherwise you wouldn't have waited so long to contact me.-" Snapping suddenly into motion, the White Guardian pulled out a grenade which he had been cooking in his belt pouch, hurling it into the air over the commandos' heads while drawing his sword and leaping towards Jack.
Two commandos were killed outright by the grenade's detonation, but not Jack, who threw his knife at the White Guardian.
Before Jack could fully recover from the grenade blast, the Guardian closed the distance and decapitated him with a single blow. I watched the Dersite Archagent's head roll across the floor while the rest of his body crumpled in a heap and lay twitching in a widening pool of its own blood. Meanwhile, the Home Guards opened fire on the surviving commandos, hosing them where they stood.
Throughout the chaos, the White Queen's frozen gaze had not strayed from the Guardian. I don't think she'd even blinked. I've never seen her like this. When she spoke, her voice was deadly quiet. "Traitor."
"By your definition, perhaps." The White Guardian calmly turned to face the Queen, holding Jack's knife lazily in his left hand. "I disobeyed protocol, you know. Curiosity got the better of me. It was nearly seven hundred years ago. I went to the Golden Moon and ascended the Knight's tower during an Eclipse. High enough to see the visions in Skaia's clouds. Visions of what you must have known your entire life."
"Prospit burning." The White Queen still refused to blink, staring relentlessly at the Guardian as if she might be able to stare hard enough to explode his head. "That is what you saw, no? How must it feel to know that it burns not by my hand, but by yours?"
The White Guardian's jaw tightened. "Skaia designed Prospit, designed you, to lose. Correct?" With a tiny gesture, he signaled his guards to bring me over to where he stood. "If we defeat Derse on the Battlefield, then there is no longer any game for these Humans to win. That is what all of this is, correct? What we all are? A game, rigged against beloved Prospit, which you and these Humans stubbornly continue to play? You are leading us down a path to ruin."
I grunted as my two captors grabbed me under my shoulders and hoisted me up. My toes dragged numbly across the floor as the two Home Guards brought me over to the Guardian and forced me to my knees. I glanced to my right at Tami and Cruz, who had been knelt down next to me. Tami met my gaze but was unable to form coherent words. Cruz was in even worse shape. Smacking into a wall headfirst had concussed him, and I could see blood seeping through his hair.
"Skaia showed me other visions," continued the White Guardian, walking menacingly towards the White Queen with Jack Noir's knife in hand. "I saw the shattered crown of your husband the King. The White Keep in ruins, surrounded by fields of corpses. Skaia's light giving way to darkness. I saw the Outer Gods-"
"This incipisphere must fulfill its purpose," insisted the White Queen, cutting the Guardian off mid-sentence. "Stop this madness while you can still turn back."
"Tam," I heard Cruz murmuring. "Tam?"
"I'm still here." Tami tried to take a deep breath, struggling to get the words out. "Can you teleport? I can't-"
"Quiet," grunted one of the Home Guards holding Tami, smacking her across the back of her head.
The White Guardian stopped, inches away from the White Queen, resting the tip of Jack's knife on the Queen's throat. "Do you truly believe the Humans' lives are more valuable than our own?" After an uncomfortable silence, the Guardian withdrew Jack's knife and looked at me. "If Skaia requires Prospit's destruction to fulfill its purpose, then it is not a purpose worth fulfilling."
After a nod from the Guardian, one the two Home Guards holding me upright grabbed my hair and forced my head back, baring my throat. Panic began to set in and I struggled to inhale a full breath, trying with every fiber of my being to invoke Force, to save my own life, but to no avail. Whatever the Home Guards injected me with had deadened my powers and turned my muscles to jelly.
The White Guardian stood over me and made no effort to conceal his contempt. "You betray all of us when you choose these Humans over your own people," he declared to the White Queen, pressing Jack Noir's knife against my throat. "Today, we break the game."
Unimaginable pain sliced across my throat.
"What have you done?!" I could hear the White Queen screaming, losing all composure and resuming her fight to free herself from the three Home Guards who held her. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
My blood dripped from the end of Jack Noir's knife, and the Guardian dispassionately watched as my Home Guard captors flung me to the stone floor. With all my strength I managed to clasp both hands to my ruined throat. Maybe if I put enough pressure on it, I could stop the bleeding? Right? Or maybe I could last long enough to get medical attention? When I coughed, blood came spurting out between my fingers, and more of it seeped into my trachea, making me struggle to breathe.
"Oh fuck!" Tami captors with all her drugged strength, which did not amount to much, as the White Guardian approached her herself with all of her strength against her captors, but fared as well as I had. "Cruz! Get us out of here!" Before she could say anything else, the Guardian plunged Jack's knife into her heart, and Tami screamed in agony.
Breathing grew more and more difficult as blood seeped into my trachea. Then I coughed, sending more blood spurting out between my fingers which now struggled to maintain a grip on my increasingly slippery throat.
Tami spit blood in the White Guardian's face, looking over at Cruz one last time.
Unfazed, the Guardian yanked his knife out of Tami's heart and moved on, approaching Cruz from behind. The Home Guards threw Tami to the ground next to me, and I locked eyes with her while she convulsed in her death throes. I'd never taken the time to realize how pretty Tami's eyes are. Vibrant emerald green. The same color as the light exuded by her healing. Intense enough to make you think she could see right through you. Just before her convulsions ceased, I saw the light leave Tami's eyes.
I looked away from Tami's corpse just in time to see the White Queen throat-punching one of her two captors. Wait, hadn't there been three Home Guards holding her? How had she gotten her right arm free? Then I noticed one of the three captors lying on the floor and moaning in pain, clutching a foot which was bent at an awkward angle. The guard who'd just gotten punched staggered back, trying to suck in some air through his partially crushed throat. All of it had transpired within less than three seconds.
The White Guardian jammed Jack's knife up through the base of Cruz's skull, piercing directly into the brain and causing him to go immediately limp. Cruz was dead before he hit the floor. His death, at least, had been quick. Lucky him. I wasn't so lucky. My death is taking too long. Fuck, it hurts. It really, really hurts.
I am going to die.
Several Home Guards made a beeline for the Queen before the White Guardian even realized what was happening.
Ignoring her final captor, with her freed right hand the White Queen grabbed the black cord necklace she wore around her neck and drew it out from underneath her coat, revealing a small gold ring inlaid with eight pearls of bright white light.
"Shoot her!" roared the White Guardian. "SHOOT HER!"
Too late.
The White Queen donned her ring of power, slipping it onto the ring finger of her right hand. Blinding white light filled the entire room, and although I struggled to keep my eyes open, I saw the Queen...change. Her form, silhouetted against the intense light, was nearly tall enough to touch the throne room's vaulted ceiling. She had become a giant, with wings sprouting from her back, a Santa hat on her head, and strangely enough she smelled like cheese pizza. Weird, right?
A sudden bolt of deadly red lightning issued forth from the light, arcing across the room and tearing a ragged hole through the White Guardian's chest before fragmenting into many branches. Each fork of lightning shredded a Home Guard until the White Queen and I were the only ones left alive. The White Guardian, shock and agony still twisting his face, fell onto his back and did not move. Smoke rose from the hole in his chest.
When the Queen removed her ring, the light subsided and I could see her clearly again. Her nightmarish gigantic prototyped form had returned to normal. None of the Home Guards had survived her attack, and most of their corpses had not remained in one piece. "No one escapes the Red Miles, Guardian. Not even you," she said, standing over the White Guardian's lifeless body. "The Eight will fulfill their purpose. There will be a Garden in the Abyss. No thanks to you."
I coughed again, and my hands slipped from my throat. Too weak. Within an instant, the White Queen was at my side, kneeling over me and holding her own hands to my throat. She tore off part of her own clothes and pressed the fabric to my throat, soaking up some of my blood. How much blood did I have left?
My mind began to wander as I shivered uncontrollably.
Was I really going to die?
I'm not ready.
The White Queen caressed the side of my face, speaking soft, soothing words which I could not understand.
Then I spotted it. Behind the White Queen, watching me die, stood the dark, shadowy form that had haunted me my entire life. "Time to wake up," the Phantom said, but the Queen did not notice.
"Please help me," I begged the Queen, holding onto her arms with desperate, clawing hands as blood filled my lungs and I found myself unable to continue breathing. I felt the White Queen take one of my hands in hers, felt her grip squeeze around my hand, felt her tears splashing onto my face.
The tears on my face felt good.
The auditorium was very spacious. At the front of the room was the stage, where our theater productions, music concerts, and school assemblies took place. In the very back was the tech booth, where the stage manager and sound board operator would sit. Gradually, the auditorium filled with the dozens of other students who shared my 5th Period study hall. The handful of teachers assigned to us started doing their roll calls, and I remained in my seat until my name was called. I raised my hand and said, "Here."
Once I was marked down as present, I cast my gaze about the auditorium for a few moments, and then I found her.
Cass Galavis was sitting towards the front of the auditorium, close to the stage. She was wearing earbuds. My heartbeat increased.
Fuck. Okay. This was it.
I forced myself to stand up.
No need to rush. I can always sit back down and do this another day. I could always just listen to some music.
"Nope." I took a deep breath and walked myself, one footstep at a time, down the nearest aisle until I found myself standing next to Cass's chosen row of seats. She was listening intently to her music, and did not notice me. Good god, how was I supposed to get her attention? Maybe I should just let her listen to music uninterrupted. Would I enjoy being interrupted mid-song? Depends on the song, really.
I stepped into the row and sat down two seats away from Cass. One seat away would be too bold without invitation. Even so, two seats away was close enough for Cass to notice my arrival, and she gave a bit of a start, plucking out her earbuds. "Sorry, did I startle you?"
"Yes." Cass put one of her earbuds back in, resuming her music. "No apology necessary."
"What are you listening to?"
"You probably wouldn't know it."
"Try me."
"It's a beautiful piece of music called the Penny Whistle Song."
My eyes widened with excitement. "As in, the Penny Whistle Song from The Power of One soundtrack?!"
Cass smiled faintly. "You know it?"
"Of course I know it," I said, beaming, "it's Hans freaking Zimmer! Hans Zimmer is a living god."
"It wasn't only Hans Zimmer," Cass reminded me. "It was also Lebo M. In fact, Hans Zimmer and Lebo M. collaborated again just two years after the Power of One, using many of their old melodies, and the result of that next collaboration was The Lion King."
"I know, I..." Wait a sec. What the heck was Cass wearing? She was dressed in thin, flowy, sleeveless black-and-purple hooded robes. Since when had she been dressed up for Halloween? I could've sworn she'd just been wearing regular clothes a moment ago, but after blinking several times and rubbing my eyes, I was satisfied that I was neither crazy nor hallucinating. "Where'd you get the robes?" I asked. "Halloween isn't supposed to be until October."
"You've gone off-script." Cass sounded as surprised as I felt. "You're waking up. All of my previous attempts to get to you have failed, but this time you let me in."
"Let you in?"
"Into your dream bubble," Cass clarified. "How much do you remember? Can you remember how you died?"
"How I died?" This was getting too weird. "What the fuck?"
"You dug yourself deep into these memories like a deer tick," said Cass. "But they aren't exactly your memories. The life you think you lived was not your life, and deep down you've always known that. It's why you don't remember your own name."
"What?" Deeply disturbed, I stood up and prepared to leave. "That's ridiculous."
"What is your name?"
When I opened my mouth to answer, my name did not come, and I just stood there open-mouthed like an idiot.
How could I not remember my own fucking name? "This is impossible." I unzipped my backpack, frantically leafing through my school papers, looking for anything that would have my name on it. "I don't understand." Giving up on my backpack, I looked at Cass. "Do you know my name? Why can't I remember?"
"You aren't who you think you are."
Abruptly I turned around and fled the auditorium, crossing the hallway and hurrying into the bathroom. When I saw my reflection in one of the bathroom mirrors, my blood ran cold.
In the mirror, my throat was slit, I wore heavily bloodstained yellow pajamas, and my eyes were entirely white. I had no irises or pupils. How could I even see anything without irises and pupils?
I was afraid to look down at myself, but I did anyway, and my fears were realized. I was wearing the fucked up bloody pajamas. I touched a finger to my throat, feeling the fatal wound which had ended my life, and immediately I lurched into the nearest bathroom stall to puke. Once my stomach was empty, I spat out the vestiges, wiped my mouth, and when I exited the bathroom, I was confronted not with the hallways of Downingtown East High School, but with an outdoor balcony under an empty black sky, completely devoid of stars and clouds.
Stretching into the distant horizon was the purple, black, and gray urban sprawl of a city that did not exist on Earth.
"Derse," I murmured without thinking, unsure of how I knew the word. Was I really dead?
"You can join me, if you like." Cass stood at the railing, facing away from me, gazing at the bustling cobblestoned public square below. She was still wearing the purple-and-black robes. "The view is nice."
I walked across the balcony to join Cass, leaning with my elbows on the metal railing, watching the hundreds of humanoid people socializing down in the public square. "Are those aliens down there?"
"There are no aliens in Our Home," replied Cass. "Only people."
"Isn't this place called Derse?" I asked.
"No one uses that name anymore."
"I've never seen any of this before." I stared at the shiny obsidian obelisk looming in the center of the square, transfixed by the blazing emerald green light shining from atop the obelisk's apex. "Is this your memory? Or is it heaven?"
"Neither." Cass looked at me. "This is Our Home."
"Why am I wearing my dream self's clothes?" I asked, gesturing with disgust at my bloodstained clothing. "This is awful."
"They're your clothes," said Cass. "You're the dream self."
"No." I shook my head. "That can't be. I had a childhood."
"Your waking self had a childhood. You were sleeping on Prospit."
"What? No!" I'm glad I was holding onto the railing, because otherwise I probably would have collapsed to the floor. "You don't understand, I remember being a kid, and growing up, and going to school for fifteen fucking years, and figuring out how to masturbate, and all of it! That was me!"
"It wasn't. That was your waking self. You were asleep on Prospit."
"It was all a lie?" I turned away from the view of the city, pressing my fingers to my temples, frowning as I began to feel subtle vibrations around my head and shoulders. "This is too much. I just want to be me again."
"You are you. You've always been you." Cass looked at me again. "You need to prepare for what's about to happen next. It will be very unpleasant. Adjusting to a new body will take time, but you can do it."
"What are you talking about?" As the strange vibratory hum intensified and spread throughout the rest of my body, I found myself growing dizzy. "I feel weird..."
Cass said something to me, but I could no longer hear her. The hum permeating my body filled my ears, drowning out Cass's voice. I held up my hands, screaming as my skin began to dissolve into red light.
Darkness enveloped me.
Cass was gone. The balcony and the city were gone. Everything was gone, and as I was stretched impossibly across dimensions, I could not even scream, because I no longer had a form.
My eyes flew open. I was back in my house. Floating over the stairs.
I stared down at my hands. They were almost transparent, composed of some kind of red energy. I felt feathers covering my chest, back, sides, and arms, felt wings sprouting from my back. My hands also felt warped—they were much more muscular and knobby. More birdlike. And my fingernails had thickened and extended into talons.
And I couldn't feel my legs… I couldn't feel my legs, so I looked down and realized that the reason I couldn't feel them was because I didn't have legs. Not anymore…
I recognized myself. Realized the abomination I'd become. I was a sprite. I was my own fucking Sprite.
A sense of horror and revulsion coiled within me as the full knowledge of my predicament came crashing down on me. "No…" I murmured.
This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening-
My attempt to block out reality was shattered by my own voice...but it wasn't coming from me. It was coming from...from him...
I could feel a deep, simmering rage burning up inside me. I don't even know what I was angry at... Skaia? This game? Cass? Myself? Existence in general? This fucking fake bird that I was having trouble distinguishing myself from—how the fuck did the eagle even have any memories or experiences of its own; it'd been a goddamn statue for fucking fuck's sake why the fuck was I sharing memories with a fucking statue how the shit is that even fucking possible no just fucking no fucking GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING WAY! FUCK!
I didn't try and calm myself down. I was angry, and I wanted to stay angry. It felt... I dunno... Comforting, in some twisted sort of way? Like a coarse, warm, fucked up kind of security blanket I could use to shield myself from reality. I don't know what was fueling the anger; only that it was there, and it wasn't going away. I didn't even listen to what...to what he said. Hearing my own voice coming from him was enough to set me off. "Shut up!" I screamed at him, not wanting to hear another person speak with my voice. It was my voice. It was my voice, my life, my memories. Not his. Mine. If they didn't belong to me, then the only real thing left in my head would be the eagle... No. Nope. They're my memories, and that's the end of it. "Don't you dare tell me those memories aren't mine!" I continued to shout, still desperately trying to separate my own memories from those of the eagle. "I'm a real person, you hear me? I'm a real fucking person! I have a name!"
What was my name? What the fuck was it? Maybe if I could remember it, now, I'd be able to get the eagle's thoughts out of my head, be able calm my mind and stop my thoughts from constantly fucking fighting each other for control... Goddamn it, goddamn every fucking thing that exists, and even some things that don't exist just for good measure; what the fuck is my name? It felt like I tried to think of my name for hours—raking through my mind with a fine-toothed comb, mentally searching my nonexistent ass off—though I really was only at it for a few seconds...but I came close. I came so close... I had it, I had it on the tip of my tongue, it was finally about to come back...
"Dude, you're me."
He'd just spoken again with my voice, shattered my concentration... I desperately tried to remember the name I'd been about to say... But there was nothing. It was gone. I felt like I was about to break down crying again, and I might've done exactly that...but then the other guy opened his trap and said one last thing.
Well, it may not actually have been the last thing he was gonna say...but it was the last thing he was able to say.
"You're just my dream self-"
Before I knew it, I'd whipped out a Bowie hunting knife from something that felt remarkably like a sylladex, only...different. But I wasn't really paying attention to the fact that I'd just produced a duplicate of my original weapon out of crimson-hued sprite energy, nor was I paying attention to how I'd retrieved it, or where it had come from. I wasn't thinking at all. I was only feeling.
The rage I'd just felt moments ago was sparked, suddenly exploding into a roaring inferno of black fury, the likes of which I've never felt in my entire life. I've never even come close to being this angry, before... I was already propelling myself forward with a powerful flap of the wings that I now suddenly had, lunging straight for the other guy. He had fast reflexes—he'd manged to whip out his own Bowie, bringing it up to deflect mine. His reflexes were the only thing he had to defend himself with, at the moment. My strike was so strong that it simply knocked the other guy's knife aside. The angle of my strike had been turned, though, so my blade only ended up scoring a deep graze on the side of the imposter's face.
I kept up the attack, raining down blow after blow on...on him... He was still in a slight state of shock, but he'd now stopped thinking, too, and had reverted to fighting with his instincts. His intelligence wouldn't help him against my anger, but his instincts seemed to be doing the job—he was holding his own against my barrage of attacks, but only just. I could sense him tiring, the growing desperation in the pattern of his defense.
Would I have killed him? Probably, yeah. But just as 'his' defense was beginning to come apart at the seams, I found myself slowing down. A lump had risen in my throat, and my eyes started to sting. You gotta be fuckin' kidding me. Don't cry, you stupid little shit, don't fucking cry! Not now!
It was no use fighting it. My body and psyche probably weren't able to sustain that level of wrath for too long without breaking down. It was horrible; I was physically fighting with that other guy, I was mentally wrestling with the consciousness of the eagle, trying to keep its instincts and urges from drowning out my own, and now I was battling with my own emotions. My anger was fading away, and I could almost literally feel my psyche dipping down into a deep depression. And that just made me even more pissed off—I didn't want to fucking cry like a little bitch; I wanted to blow a goddamn world up, right now.
I couldn't do it, anymore. All the fighting was overwhelming me, and I forced what little that remained of my mind to retake control of my new body. Letting out one last yell of frustration, I stopped attacking 'him' and broke off. I felt an odd sensation in my...what the...? It was my wings. I dunno how long it'd take for me to get used to having new appendages... I felt a strong tingling feeling in my wings, almost as if they were itching to fly, and if I chose to ignore that sensation I knew that it would get a hundred times worse. Don't know how I knew that... I just kinda...well...knew. All I did was give into that sensation, and my wings seemed to do the rest; flaring out to their full span, sending me hurtling forward with each flap.
I rampaged across the front hall, blew through the living room, and crashed straight through one of the bay windows. I shot higher and higher into the sky with each new beat of my wings, leaving my house far, far behind. When I looked down towards the ground, I was shocked to find that my vision... It was like I'd been staring at the world my entire life with a couple layers of plastic wrap over my eyes, and now my eyesight had just been jacked up to high-definition. Even as high up as I was flying, I could see, sharp and clear, worms emerging from the ground and burrowing down into it, little furry rodents that skittered about the hilltops... I forced myself to look away, because I found myself nearly succumbing to a sort of primal urge to swoop down and eat one of those animals.
I realized that those were primal urges from the eagle's consciousness; not my own. For some reason, that realization caused the rest of my anger to dissipate into the rain.
I knew no one could see me up here, but I was still glad, regardless, that when I started to cry again, it wasn't until I'd already lost myself inside the rainclouds. Now I was truly invisible. I maintained my altitude, closing my eyes and covering my face with my hands while I let loose.
What the fuck have I become? What kind of fucked up freak of nature have I just become?
Why couldn't Skaia have just let me stay dead?
END OF ACT IV