Chapter Seventy-Two: Pruning the Azaleas

"Dead?" Theo Gibbons still sounded dubious even as he gradually remembered the details of how he died. "C'mon, we're not dead. You're full of shit."

"Nope, not this time," Adam Tarrant chuckled, hitting Little Blue's radio. Static issued from the speakers for a moment before resolving into the rich, playful tones of Artie Shaw's clarinet. "How else could I get WRTI to play Moonglow right when I want them to? And why else would my eyes look like this?" Adam gestured to his own eyes, which happened to be completely white.

No iris, no pupil.

That gave Theo a little start. "Ah. Okay, that's freaky."

"Look in the mirror, dude."

Theo reached up and pulled down the passenger sun visor, which had a mirror on its inside surface. As Theo looked into the mirror, he gave an even bigger start. His eyes, too, were completely white. Finding the sight a tad bit disturbing, Theo shut the sun visor and turned his attention back to the setting sun.

Theo's gut twisted from a brief spurt of panic and confusion. But then, curiously, it all returned to normal, as if the impact of the revelation had been nothing more than a sudden, unexpected gust of wind. "Well, shit…" he muttered. "I guess I…um… So...is this one of those dream bubbles we go to when we die?"

Adam blinked once, his eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise. "You already know about dream bubbles?" he asked.

"Yeah, Gino's told me about them," Theo replied. He looked around, his eyes wide, as if he was now observing everything for the very first time. Which, in a way, he was. "Geez, it's all so...so…"

"Real?" Adam finished for Theo.

"Yeah, that about sums it up. Real."

"Well, dream bubbles are initially formed from memories, so technically all this is real," Adam agreed. "We're both sharing one, at the moment, actually. And once you remember you're dead, everything changes. Like right now. It's like having a lucid dream that doesn't end. It can even be fun, if you're not too...you know...broken up over being dead, and everything. You don't sound very broken up."

"Oh, I mean…" Theo shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it's a bit of a surprise, and all, but… I dunno. I guess I expected it to hurt? Or...something. I dunno. I actually feel perfectly fine, right now. I guess I wasn't expecting that."

"Everyone reacts differently to death."

"How did you react?"

Adam hesitated before answering. "...differently. This isn't my first time being dead, you know."

"Is it your second?"

Adam shook his head. "My third, actually. I might not be coming back from this one… But that's okay. I've got a date, soon. C'mon, let's do that thing we always see in movies where people watch a sunset from the hood of their car. I've always wanted to do that."

Seeing no reason to argue or disagree, Theo unbuckled his seat belt and opened the passenger door, hopping out of Little Blue. Both teenagers swung themselves up onto the Ford Focus's hood at the same time, stretching out their legs and resting back against the windshield.

Little Blue was currently parked off the side of the small dirt road that ran almost all the way up to the top of Drovers Mount, which was the small mountain located near Cruz's home, adjacent to the Frog Temple ruins. The view was beautiful - a sea of treetops, varying shades of green, brown, and white stretching all the way out to the horizon, as if it were struggling to touch the sky.

It was nearly sunset. There were just enough clouds in the sky to give the sunset a good array of color. Small flocks of birds were moving through the light, painting fluid, formless patterns as they constantly shifted formation. The crescent moon had even made an appearance, higher up in the greenish-blue regions of the western sky, above the warmer tones closer to the horizon.

The car's windows had all been rolled down, so the radio could still be heard. Smooth jazz continued to play, giving the sunset a tranquil feel that dovetailed nicely with the warm temperature and comfortable humidity. Crickets were beginning to chirp. Fireflies filled the bushes and treetops with dazzling flickers of bioluminescence.

It was perfect.

It was like being in a dream.

"I love sunsets," Adam said to Theo, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath through his nose. His left hand was moving in gentle swirls in rhythm with the music, as if he were conducting Artie Shaw and his orchestra. "You know, some of my best experiences in our Sburb session happened during a sunset. Or 'Skaiaset', if you want to be technical. And the only thing better than the sunset...is listening to jazz during one."

"Oh, I believe you! This is nice..." Theo's laughter slowly returned as he drank in the sight of the sun finally beginning to sink beneath the distant treetops. "Jesus…" he murmured, taking another long, deep breath, savoring the feeling of being able to breathe freely without fear of asthma. "This is probably the best I've felt in a real long time. I could get used to this."

That sparked a look from Adam, who arched a curious eyebrow. "Could you?" he asked.

"Find me an Xbox, and yes I could," Theo replied. "You seem used to it."

That got another quiet chuckle from Adam. "Yeah, Theo, I guess I am. And it's good you feel the way you do. Still, you shouldn't get comfortable just yet. You aren't finished."

"Right," Theo said, almost smacking himself in the forehead in irritation for forgetting the obvious. "My dream self's still alive in jail… Aw, shit, do I really have to go back there?"

"Don't worry," Adam reassured his friend. "You're not going back to Derse. You had friends looking out for you. You're gonna wake up on the Battlefield."

"The what now?"

"The Battlefield," Adam repeated himself. "It's the planet at the center of Skaia, where the carapacian armies are fighting. You're reaching the god tiers via your planetary quest bed, so your dream self will be transported to...eh...you know what? Never mind. You'll figure it all out for yourself when you wake back up. For now, just enjoy the sunset."

Theo was content to follow his friend's advice. And he did, for a while, enjoy the jazz-infused sunset, right up until the sun sank away from view. The sky slowly turned a deep red, and stars were soon visible in the east.

After the sun went down, the butterflies arrived. They emerged by the thousands from the tree tops below Drovers Mount, all of them fluttering straight towards Little Blue. Theo gave a start of surprise when the butterfly swarms appeared, sitting up off the windshield. "That...is a reasonably large quantity of butterflies," he remarked, his tone very neutral. "I, uh… I take it they're not random?"

"No, they're not random." Adam shook his head. "They're your ride back home. Butterflies, huh? I had cardinals. It was good talking to you, Theo. Maybe I'll see you again when I get to the Garden. I'm not sure when that will be, though."

"Well, if I'm about to wake up, then I need to give you one of these-" Theo reached over and threw his arms around his friend, squeezing him hard enough to make Adam fear for the well-being of his ribcage. Then Theo released him. "See you, Arbiter."

"Bye, Chief." Adam stood up and hopped off the hood of Little Blue. The first few butterflies had already reached them. "Those butterflies are about to swarm all over you, so I"m just gonna go ahead and stand over here…"

As the masses of butterflies converged on Theo, the last he saw of his best friend before the winged insects obscured his vision was Adam scrambling back from the swarms, swatting away butterflies that got too close.

It was enough to make Theo laugh again.

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch..." Traces of awe managed to sneak into the Scarred Marshal's voice despite his efforts to keep a neutral tone. He was staring through a pair of binoculars at the commotion happening at the top of the distant mountain. His small, carved wooden pipe hung lazily from the corner of his mouth, tendrils of tobacco smoke curling up into the air before they were whisked away by the breeze. "Goddamn Rangers weren't full of shit, after all…"

The Pale Marksman, who was standing behind and to the left of the Scarred Marshal, reacted to the division commander's quip by clearing her throat loudly. "You're aware those 'Goddamn Rangers' are within earshot, sir?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm aware," the Marshal murmured, not missing a beat.

The Marksman could only shrug. "Long as we're on the same page."

The Scarred Marshal watched the shimmering figure in the sky start to move around on its own accord, gusts of wind beginning to shoot out in seemingly random directions from the mountaintop. "This is the windy kid, then. Which one is that, PM? The Knight? Which one is the Breath hero?"

"That would be the Thane, sir," the Pale Marksman replied.

"Thane of Breath, that's right." The Scarred Marshal gave a single nod, lowering his binoculars and passing them over to the Marksman, who began looking through them herself. "Okay, PM, send in your boys. Let's get the Thane back to the White Keep before the Dersites decide to try and snipe him."

"I came to say goodbye, for a while, Cruz," Dream Adam said to his oldest friend after taking a deep breath. "I'm leaving Prospit."

Cruz gave a grunt of surprise. He turned off his Xbox controller, wound up the cord. "Where to? The Battlefield?"

Dream Adam nodded. "Yeah, that's the plan."

Cruz nodded slowly, his eyes growing vacant, deep in thought. He absentmindedly pinched the joint that he'd tucked behind his ear earlier and removed it, bringing it down to his lips. As he fumbled around for a lighter and could not find one, his focus quickly returned. Cruz met Dream Adam's gaze. "Do you mind?" he asked his friend, gesturing to the end of his joint.

Dream Adam snapped his fingers, conjuring a small mote of flame around his right hand. He twirled the fire through his fingers for a few seconds before extending his index finger and directing the flame into the tip of Cruz's joint, igniting the marijuana.

Cruz took a deep hit, inhaling until he nearly reached what felt like a bursting point. Then he released everything in a cloudy stream of skunky-smelling smoke. "Thanks," he croaked to Adam, his throat still raw and dry from the massive hit. He coughed several times, reached down to retrieve his glass of water, took several gulps to regain his voice.

"No problem," Dream Adam chuckled.

Cruz waited for his coughing to subside before speaking again. "It ain't all fun and games in Skaia. Not like here, amigo. There's a war raging on the Battlefield, right now. You sure you wanna get caught up in all that?"

Dream Adam was silent, at first, but after his initial hesitation he gave a nod. "Yeah," he said, "I'm sure. I need to be somewhere I can make a difference. Look, dude, I… I've survived two murder attempts - one of which happened in my own goddamn dream room. Then Gino decides to turn me into his meat puppet, makes me fly into space… I'm done sitting around and doing nothing, Cruz."

Cruz took another hit from his joint. A smaller hit, this time. "There anything I can do or say to change your mind?"

"No." Dream Adam smiled, shaking his head. "I've made up my mind. And to be honest, the more I think about this, the more it feels...right. I don't think we're meant to stay on Prospit, dude. One way or another, we're all heading for Skaia."

After Adam's dream self bid Cruz farewell and flew off to return to his own tower, the Sage of Space was left on his own. He watched Dream Adam's distant form grow smaller and smaller, until he could no longer see his friend. He blinked several times when he lost sight of Dream Adam. His friend's words were still echoing in his mind.

Cruz switched his Xbox controller back on and sat down in front of the TV, starting a new Left 4 Dead campaign. After a few moments' deliberation, he chose Blood Harvest and settled down to play. As he shoved and shot his way through the rural maps, Cruz finished his joint. He tried to zone out and lose himself amidst the waves of in-game Infected, but he was unable to relax.

To be honest, Cruz had been feeling a similar way for a little while. Ever since getting stabbed through the throat, Cruz had been very content to spend his abundance of time on Prospit smoking himself into a stupor, trying to forget the more painful parts of the experience. But no amount of weed seemed to be able to cover it up, and Cruz found himself spending most of his time ignoring his own thoughts.

It was much harder for Cruz to ignore the parting words of a friend.

His mind made up, Cruz vaulted himself over the sill of the nearest window and soared up and away from his dream tower, leaving the Golden Moon far behind. He was heading straight for Prospit, flying low and close to the giant golden chain that tethered the city-planet to its moon.

At first, following his death at the hands of Jack Noir, Cruz's dream self had seemingly lost its natural ability to fly. Fortunately, it turned out that the dream self's flight capability was not fully lost - Cruz merely had to remember how to do it, much like a paraplegic learning to walk again. His flight was still a little rough and uncoordinated, but Cruz was still able to get from Point A to Point B without causing too many problems.

Upon reaching Prospit, Cruz chose to land at the base of the golden chain. The base of the chain was located in a large, bustling plaza. Vendors at their kiosks would hold up their wares, continually attempting to get passersby to peruse. Trolleys glided across the cobblestones on their tracks, moving in a tightly-coordinated pattern that prevented any collisions.

What Cruz loved most about the more crowded parts of Prospit were the voices. Prospitians loved to talk. Hundreds and hundreds of voices would mingle together, forming a pleasant, upbeat din that helped Cruz lighten up and smile. As Cruz made his way through the plaza, the busy Prospitians gradually started to take notice. They would draw back from Cruz, their eyes wide as dinner platters, whispering and chattering to one another.

Cruz did not like this part of being a Hero. He did not enjoy the awe and reverence he was afforded from the Prospitians - Cruz did not feel like he had done anything to deserve it. Still…determined to enjoy the rest of his trip, Cruz left the plaza behind and hopped onto a trolley that was heading down the Boulevard. He preferred riding the trolley to the Golden Keep, rather than flying the entire way.

"I don't need exact change, do I?" Cruz asked the driver, jokingly, when he stepped into the trolley.

The trolley driver blinked once, her jaw hanging slightly open. Then she blinked again and found her voice. "Er...exact change?" She clearly had no clue what Cruz was talking about.

"Never mind." Cruz brushed past the driver and took a seat next to a well-dressed Prospitian woman.

As the trolley got moving once again, moving along down the Boulevard on its rails, Cruz watched the storefronts and cafes and streetside trees glide on past. The Prospitian sitting next to him started to fidget uncomfortably. Cruz could not help but giggle a little as he saw this.

He leaned over to the woman and flashed her a grin. "Chica, you smell like a spring garden."

"I… Sage…" Color rushed to the Prospitian woman's cheeks, which surprised Cruz a little bit. He had not known carapacians were capable of blushing. The Prospitian woman tried to say more, but the words were stopping up in her throat. When she started to hyperventilate, Cruz took the hint and quietly slipped into another seat.

Cruz had been living among the Prospitians for a little while, now, and the Golden Moon was gradually getting used to his frequent presence. Here on Prospit, however, the people were not nearly as familiar with him. They were still quite shy. That was okay, though. Shyness could always be worked around, so long as you kept trying.

Cruz took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was still unable to ignore his doubts left over from Dream Adam's departure. But the trolley ride down the Boulevard, for its part, was almost therapeutic. Watching a city drift past an open window was one of Cruz's favorite ways to relax. Sometimes, when he was feeling stressed, he liked to ride the trolleys around the Golden Moon.

Sometimes Tami would join him. Those were the best days, when she joined him.

When the trolley reached the other end of the Boulevard, after about half an hour's ride, Cruz hopped off. Looming in front of him were the walls that surrounded the Golden Keep. Prospitian Royal Guards were patrolling the ramparts, as well as stationed in front of the gates. When Cruz flew up and over the walls, it gave the Royal Guardsmen pause. But upon recognizing Cruz, they relaxed.

Cruz did not bother to walk in through the main entrance. He knew where the White Queen would be. Instead, he flew straight up to the top of the uppermost tower of the Golden Keep. It was the Queen's arboretum, where she grew her own personal garden. Cruz did not visit Prospit often, but when he did, he always made sure he spent some time in the arboretum.

Birdsong was the first sound that greeted Cruz upon his entrance. There were cardinals fluttering about the treetops, and several of them came over to investigate Cruz. He had visited before, however, so they recognized him and quickly lost interest.

The White Queen was on her knees, pruning a large azalea bush that appeared to be creeping its way across one of the stone pathways. "Good day to you, Sage," she said, sensing Cruz's arrival without even turning around. "You will forgive me if I tend to this bush a few minutes more. I'm afraid I have let it grow rather rampant, over the years…"

"Want help?" Cruz asked the Queen as he touched down to the ground behind her.

The Queen cast a questioning glance over her shoulder. "You're familiar with horticulture?"

"Yeah." Cruz nodded. "My Gran always made me help her keep our bushes and gardens pretty. Pruning is easy. Got an extra pair of shears?"

"Yes, in a closet next to the entrance."

"Be right back." Cruz headed over in the direction the Queen had indicated, finding the closet and opening it. There was an abundance of gardening tools hanging from the wall within the closet. Cruz selected a small pair of shears.

Upon returning to the azalea bush, Cruz knelt down next to the White Queen. He selected a sprig of dead flowers, pinched it, and gently snipped it at its base. He then paused, staring at the shears in his hand. "Reminds me of home," he admitted.

"Treasure the memory," the White Queen said to him, snipping another dying sprig. "Unless it brings you pain. In that case, let it be."

"Nope, no pain here," Cruz murmured. He resumed sifting through the bush, looking for appropriate branches to remove. "Feels numb, to be honest. How does a person process being part of an extinct species?"

"Hardly extinct, Sage. Here you kneel."

Cruz gave a quiet laugh. "There's only eight of us left. The mathematics don't exactly lean in favor of repopulation."

"A valid point," the Queen observed. "I presume, Sage, from your mood, that you have learned of the Knight's departure?"

Cruz looked up at the Queen. "You knew about that?" he asked.

"I did," the White Queen replied. "As I'm sure you are aware, when the Knight makes up his mind, there is rarely any changing it. The real question is what you want. Much as I love having you visit, Sage, I know that you did not come here to help me prune my azaleas."

Cruz took a deep breath. Then he said, "Adam made a good point to me. He was tired of sitting around doing nothing. And so am I. I guess maybe I'm a little afraid? I've already died once - I don't want to die again. But is it worth hiding away for the rest of the session, while all my friends are putting their lives on the line?"

"You ask good questions," the Queen remarked. "I'm afraid I cannot assist you in answering them. I can, however, give you a task to complete, should you wish. Come along, my guests should be waiting in the throne room, by now."

Cruz's forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown. But he did not ask anymore questions, yet. He knew the White Queen liked being coy with information, never revealing anything until it was the right time. He stood up and followed her down the stone pathway back to the entrance of the arboretum. Before Cruz and the White Queen left the arboretum, they put their gardening shears back into the closet. Then they stepped onto the transportalizer pad outside, which proceeded to zap them downstairs.

Within the blink of an eye, Cruz found himself stepping off the transportalizer pad into a different room. Two elegant thrones rested against the back wall. Cruz was not looking at the thrones, however. His gaze was fixed upon the two women who were waiting by the entrance doors. One of them appeared to be in her late twenties. She had black hair and red eyes. Cruz recognized her as Adam's sister.

The other woman was elderly, her hair silver-gray, her skin tan and wrinkled. She wore glasses that were so thick, they made her amber-colored eyes almost comically huge. Despite her clearly advanced age, however, the old woman's smile radiated youthful energy.

"...Gran?" Cruz could hardly keep the shock out of his voice. "I… I thought you were dead! You vanished!"

Chela Arevalo's smile grew even wider. "Not dead, mejito. Now, come and give your old grandmother a hug."