Chapter Thirteen: There Be Ghosts (Dammit)
"He what?!" Jeb shouted as he paced back and forwards in front of his newest invention. The Dimensional-whatsit. Pyrien really couldn't remember the full name of the giant device because it was something like three hundred syllables long. Apparently it was supposed to work like an Ender Chest, only you put miniature worlds inside it instead of items. Only Jeb apparently didn't know Hydros' stomach could do the same thing, minus the explosions. He eats enough to form a nation in his digestive system, if gods had such things.
"Really, Jeb." Pyrien gave the Innovator his trademark crooked grin. "You'd think you weren't welcoming of my now continued existence." A lot of people won't be, he thought dryly.
"That's because I'm not." Jeb snapped as his pacing got faster and faster. To a mortal's eyes, he'd be walking so fast all they could see is a blur. "You get on everyone's nerves, ruin precious lab equipment with your silly antics, and worst of all, you spike my coffee in the morning! With vinegar!" At the last part, he glared at the troublemaking firegod with all the venom of a maths teacher deprived of his daily coffee intake.
Pyrien gave him a placid smile. "That was once." He corrected. "And besides, most of your lab equipment is doomed to blow up anyway. I was only saving everyone the agony of waiting for the inevitable bottomless hole in the ground."
Jeb glared even harder. Pyrien could almost see his eyes straining to pop out and attack him.
"And what is even worse than that, he has apparently mislaid all his common sense as well! Do you know the price of bringing someone back from the Void, brat?" Jeb seethed.
Pyrien shrugged. "I would say I do, but then I'd be lying. Enlighten me, if you will."
Jeb stopped pacing at the speed of sound and looked directly at Pyrien over his askew spectacles, his steely grey gaze so fierce they would have set the boy-god alight if he weren't the personation of fire.
"There are... consequences for bringing a god back from the Void, especially a god in such a dire situation as you were." Jeb said darkly. Pyrien fiddled with his long black hair uncomfortably. He didn't need to be reminded of how close he'd come to fading away completely. The slight expression of amusement remained on his face, though, hiding any hint of unease.
(aurorion? why can't i feel you? where have you gone? where am i?...
...who am i?)
Pyrien turned his eyes to the window, so Jeb wouldn't catch a glimpse of the turmoil roiling under the molten gold surface.
"He'll have to stay there himself, to make up for your time. Although for a being of his power... may be that he could get out early." Jeb sighed, and ran a hand through his auburn hair. Apparently oblivious to Pyrien's sudden silence, he continued his pacing.
"Does he truly have no idea of what is going on right now? The End's blinked off the radar, and the Nether is disappearing and reappearing at odd times. I do not think it is Herobrine's work, though I never have an inkling of what goes on in that strange mind of his, never mind how hard I try to understand his motives." Jeb gave a harassed sigh and stopped by the window, his mind worlds away from the Aether Labs.
"If Herobrine has already been taken out of this power game, what with his domains disappearing..." Jeb paused to let his words sink in.
"... then I don't fancy our chances."
Pyrien just gave him another sunny smile and teleported away.
... If Notch doesn't get back soon, then I don't fancy my chances either.
"A staircase." I said to myself out of sheer surprise. And indeed, a staircase it was. Carved into the stone and leading down to who-knows-what, without a single torch to light the way. The sheer randomness of it made me paranoid.
I gave it a sideways look. Yep, it was still there. Hadn't gotten swallowed into the ground while I was looking away.
I looked at the staircase, then looked back to where I came from. Back and forth, back and forth. Eventually I gave up due to the problem of a headache. Why not? I decided. I'd fallen through holes caused by mystery earthquakes, witnessed what was probably a mass ghost uprising (Or maybe one careless god mislaying a hairbrush), and found a book dating back to the creation of the world. I could eat this random staircase for breakfast.
Gripping my sword with my right hand and holding it so the light it cast lit my way, I descended into the gloom.
Quite a few unsavoury words ran through Alex's mind as the idiot boy dropped his sword for the nth time.
"No, you lackwit." She snapped, stomping up to the moron with all the ill-grace of a mudskipper left out in the sun for too long. "You hold it like this." She adjusted the boy's grip and stance. Notch, this mockery of a boy is hopeless. Just the other day, she was trying to teach him archery. Her wolf was rolling on the grass quite a long way behind them. Ashariel was behind us, and the idiot still managed to snag an arrow in his fur. The evangi had given him a look that was half hurt and half confounded as he pulled the arrow out of his fur (It hadn't drawn blood, thank Notch. Otherwise she wasn't sure the boy would have lived to see morning).
The day before that, she tried to teach him magic. Things went okay for a while, but then the stupid boy accidentally conjured up a personal rain cloud for each of them, (including the wolf) that followed them everywhere they went and would not go away no matter what spell Alex threw at it (Then again, Alex was more fire magician than anything else so water spells were not her forte).
The boy tripped over his sword and landed on his face, blond hair turning brown with mud. The sword stuck in the ground, quivering, as the boy made multiple failed attempts to get up, only to end up back in the mud as his feet slipped out from under him.
Alex whistled sharply, sending a snap of air to push the fool to his feet. The boy yanked the sword from the ground and trudged over to her, blade dragging in the dirt.
"Why must I train in this muck?" The boy complained. "It's just rained, the ground is muddy, and now I've got dirt up my nostrils! Even when I lived on a farm I never had dirt up my nostrils!" The pathetic boy stomped in emphasis, only to slip on the mud and fall miserably on his stupid face.
"Learn how to walk properly, and maybe you won't have mud on your face next time." Alex said indifferently. "Now clean that filth off your face. I trust you have not forgotten how to summon a small rain? Oh, wait, never mind. Of course you haven't. Not after you made sure we were all soaking and miserable all day long." Alex was still prickly about that. She hated getting wet. Ashariel, on the other hand, had just gone back to using the idiot for a licking toy after the rain stopped. It was impossible to make the wolf hate anyone he had taken a liking to, which was why he was currently out hunting so as not to further distract the stupid sockhead in his lesson. Not that it made a difference.
"But we're supposed to be heroes!" The gnat whined, taking absolutely no hints. "We're supposed to fight bad guys, not get ourselves muddy tripping all over the place."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "You're the only one doing any tripping here." She pointed out. "And besides, if you can't even hold a sword, how're you going to fight a creeper? Creepers won't wait while you repeatedly drop your sword and crawl around looking for it with your face in the dirt. They'll just blow you into itty-bitty pieces." She grinned a wolf grin, bright and sharp as the edge of a dagger. "Ssssssss... BOOM. And then Andras the Pathetic will be Andras the Pieces, able to plague the world no more." She drew her hands together and splayed them apart, miming something exploding."
"But-"
Andras never got to finish his sentence. Alex moved so suddenly she left disturbed air in her wake, whipping past the boy's face like a fierce wind. In the blink of an eye, she was standing in front of him. A golden sword was held in her hand almost carelessly, blade rippling with the light of many enchantments. She moved again, slower this time, and took a casual fighting stance. It was so casual that if she wasn't holding a sword it wouldn't have hinted at being a fighting stance at all. Alex lifted her sword and flicked her sword wrist with a lazy grace.
The blade caught fire.
Gasping, the boy stumbled back. Alex blurred into sudden movement, sweeping the blade upwards and spinning, sending a shock of fire and a blast of air outwards, effectively creating a shockwave. Then she darted forwards, and then suddenly the boy's sword was flying out of his hand and his face was meeting its dear friend Mud yet again...
Andras sprawled into the dirt and looked up just in time to see Alex land from her backflip and put away her sword. He spat mud out of his mouth and stared at her in wide-eyed amazement.
"H-How..."
"Light feet, quick blade, and a bit of air and fire manipulation. And those were only the easy parts. Showy, though." Alex answered, unsmiling. "You can learn if you put some effort into it, boy."
The fool nodded, still in awe. "Woaah. Who taught you? "
Alex blinked. She shrugged. "Nobody of any importance. Get up, Moron. By this time even a skeleton could have killed you half a hundred times."
Where?
Some kind of haze gradually settled over my mind once I was down the stairs, creeping into my thoughts. The smell of ozone, and a tingling that filled the very air I was breathing. There was something old down here, a sense of sadness, a tragedy. The air was strangely warm, I could almost hear something humming and buzzing in the atmosphere. And overall, the lingering sense of melancholy.
My sword light flickered, and guttered out completely.
I didn't notice it much. It was like a veil dragged itself over my thoughts. But gradually I did notice it was dark, so very dark. Light. I want light. Need light.
Want to see light again. The sun, the stars, even the fickle sly moon.
Scarcely had that thought passed my mind when my fingers suddenly lit up. I was surprised, though only mildly due to the psychic fog. The light detached itself from my hand and floated above my palm.
Old magic. Old cold magic, and the air is thick with it. They brought it here with them, and took everything else when they left. Ripped the world apart. Left only the traces of their magic, his magic.
This place wasn't always here, I thought with a sudden certainty. By the light I now had, I could see I was in some underground cavern of enormous size, so big I couldn't see the other end of it. A lake lapped at a pebble shore, and around it were the shapes of barren trees. I touched one in curiosity.
Stone.
They were petrified. Whatever happened here happened a long time ago.
So very long ago...
It was only then I realised the whispers weren't mine. Ghosts. I realised. Lost ones, who hadn't made it to the Aether or Nether. Whispering, whispering, because that was all they could do now.
Old, old, old. They sang. We were young once, when the world was but a newborn, but now we are old and forgotten. Want to see light again...
They were drawn to my light. "Here's you light." I said giddily, the magic of the place giving me a head rush. The ghosts didn't reply. I walked towards the lake in a daze, and then walked right into it. The water parted as I made my way to the other side. There was an archway under the water, and then a stone doorway, the doors long gone. It was a castle of sorts, built like a maze on the inside. The further I went, the stronger the psychic haze got.
I dimly remember passing a pair of statues, carved into the likeness of two young boys who looked exactly alike but for their eyes. Liquid silver and royal gold, though the golden-eyed one looked like he was ready to smile and the silver-eyed one had no expression at all.
The golden-eyed statue turned its head and smiled at me, while the his twin's silver eyes remained cold and blank.
I didn't take much notice.
There was a painted maiden crying a river of tears, the tears cascading down the wall the maiden was painted on. A mosaic of a dragon on the ground that roared and flapped its wings.
A gate with a face drawn on it.
I stopped in front of it and the eyes opened. Milky white and unseeing, though sad and tired like those of a man who had lived for a very, very long time.
"Who goes there?" It whispered in a voice like rustling leaves.
"Steve." I laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Nice to meet you."
Then it did something that I didn't expect even a talking gate would do.
It closed its eyes and a clear, viscous liquid leaked from its eyelids.
"Saron, Saron. Your brothers are dead." The gate sighed. "Your nephew as well. House Evetsor will soon be ashes and wind, I fear."
I frowned, the psychic fog lifting a bit. "I'm not from House Evetsor. I don't even know you. Besides, my name is Steve, not Saron."
"Almost a million years I have waited to say my piece." The face rasped. It didn't seem to have heard anything I said. "Maybe now, I can finally rest." It was silent after that.
Then the psychic fog slammed down with a vengeance, and the next thing I knew, I was lying facedown in pebbles.
He was dripping blood everywhere, and he didn't need to see himself to know it. He couldn't see himself if he tried.
He almost fell quite a few times, but managed to stop himself at the last second. A fresh wave of pain sent him stumbling to his knees. He spat blood and struggled to his feet, and grimly continued on his trajectory.
Almost there.
He could feel the power of the place, the pain and anguish that lingered in the stones trees, and the fields that was once filled with so much sunshine and laughter. Now nothing remained of the once-haven but cold stone and dead memories. And ghosts. Lots of ghosts. Almost as many as the ones that followed him constantly, always lingering on the edge of his mind. Whispering, whispering, whispering about things that could have been. If he was given a second chance to go back again, he would do exactly what he did the first time around. But there were many regrets, dark and sad and numerous, way too numerous.
Regrets kill as surely as poison, though the killing is slower, quieter, and much more painful.
He could hear the ghosts whispering, though the words were not kind. Traitor. They hissed. Liar, murderer. He ignored them. He did not fear people when they were living, and so had even less cause to fear them when they were dead.
I'm alive and you aren't. He reminded them silently, coolly. They responded with more whispering.
Not.
For.
Long.
In the darkness where no one could see him, least of all himself, Horus smiled, unseeing eyes as sharp as chips of ice and twice as cold.
We shall see.
The West Section of the Boundary Wall usually wasn't a busy place. A divider between the West Region and the South Region, it usually did nothing but sit there because no-one really crossed the Wall, due to some ancient feud between the four sections of the whole world.
But on this particular day, in this particular place named Brightwater Watch (Named so because it actually sat smack bang in the middle of the ocean. One of the oceans, anyway), a very noisy argument was carried out involving a small ship, several members of the Wallswatch, and a very petulant prince with his companions who were thankfully under the deck and out of the way.
"This is an outrage!" The prince ranted. "You, you lowborn scum! You dare refuse passage to the mighty Prince of Sylder?!"
The four members of the Wallswatch exchanged glances that were half amused and half exasperated. "Apologies, Your Highness." A grey haired man clad in the traditional white armour of the Wallswatch said in a jolly voice. "We weren't expectin' a prince of your status in our waters, Highness, else I might 'ave checked me history book so as to recognise who you actually are."
The prince sputtered.
Another Wallswatch guard, a younger man this time, nudged the greybeard with his elbow. "But you don't have any history books." The guard whispered.
Another guard, a woman with a man's build, snorted loudly. "Old Haldur might not have a history book, but he has a record of all the travelling circuses that's ever passed Brightwater. He's like to find our prince's in there somewhere if he tried." She said while picking her teeth with a dagger.
"You talk treason!" The prince spluttered. "My father will have you beheaded for this!"
The woman gave him an insolent look. "And how's he to manage that, Your Snobness? The Watch ain't under no one's jurisdiction but its own. Such an act is like to bring the wrath of all the other kingdoms in West and whatnot down on your father's royal noggin, and Your Highness would be left without a kingdom to inherit, though I ain't seeing any harm in that." The two men laughed, but the elderly female Wallswatcher remained silent.
The old woman with a fierce stare and a hawkish nose tugged the younger woman's ear sharply, eliciting a yelp. "Behave yourselves." She told the other guards. "You act like donkeys, though they have more with in their left bum cheeks than all of you combined."
"I've been tellin' 'em that for as long as I can remember." A young girl laughed as she swept down the stairs to join the guards on top of the bridge. "Though the scoundrels actually seem to listen to you. They shoulda made you the Captain of Brightwater Watch instead, Marge."
The prince scowled at the girl. "I demand to speak with your Captain-"
"Yeh. She knows." The girl snapped back at him, her manner changing from cheerful to irritated. "She's right in front o' ya."
Tevan looked around, turning this way and that. "I don't see her." He complained, expecting to spot a tall and somewhat imposing woman in a Watch Captain's dyed steel armour.
The guardsmen laughed, and even old Marge managed a smile. The girl looked unimpressed.
"That's me, yer dumb mutt." The girl jerked a thumb at herself. On closer inspection, the dyed dark grey armour under her black cloak did shine like something metallic.
The prince flushed. Then, remembering that he was a prince, he flushed some more. "How dare you! I- when my father hears of this-" And continued ranting for roughly half an hour. Finally, the Crafter girl had enough.
"Notch Almighty, what were ya donkey arses thinking?!" The girl-Captain exclaimed. "Open the bloody gates and get rid of this blabbering trashbag at once!"
"Captain, he doesn't have the papers-"
"Bugger 'em bloody papers! Just get rid of the pompous fool. Let 'im bugger someone else."
Tevan stopped his rant. "That's right! Ha! You cannot deny passage to a Prince of Sylder!"
The younger guardsman sighed and pulled a lever. With a KA-CHCK sound, the piston-operated seagate opened. The annoying prince sailed out laughing. "See you suckers! Peasants! Ha!"
Marge turned to the Captain with a faint frown on her face. "It's most unlike you to give in so easily, Darya."
"Give in? Hardly." The girl snorted. "Most of the kingdoms in Denarya require papers from a traveller who's come across the Wall. And ya know as well as I do that them idiots don't have no papers. If he happens to get caught..."
The younger woman smiled. "Clever, Cap. I ain't never regretted givin' yer my vote and I see I won't be startin' soon."
"I'll be subtly alerting our friends across the Wall of a couple'a vagabonds, then." The girl said over her shoulder as she walked back to the guard tower.
Just a little further... A little further.
Resistant to pain did not mean resistant to blood loss. He could feel the lightness in his head, the inability to breathe deeply enough. The ghosts clamoured for his death.
Die, die, die.
Maybe I should. He thought, not for the first time in his life. Do the world a favour. Dying here would not be so bad. The place that contained memories of what he once was, what they all once were. Besides, he had long grown indifferent to the idea of death. Living, dying, living, dying. What's the point of it all?
Ah. Being human was so extraordinarily tiring.
Maybe he should. No one would grieve. That, at least, left him feeling a little sad. He used to believe that many would grieve at his passing. Traitors, all. And me the worst of them.
If anything, they would be relieved.
Promise me...
His head dipped. I'm sorry. He mouthed silently, to a purple-eyed ghost no-one else could see. I'm sorry. She looked at him with hurt and accusation in her haunting violet eyes, never speaking a word. I'm so, so sorry. His eyes were dry, though, they always were. Even in the darkness where no one would see him, he wouldn't show weakness. The predator must not weep.
You promised...
He did, he remembered. There was so much blood, too much blood, all in the wrong place. He made a promise. And then he broke it.
(fool, you fool. i promised her)
His right knee suddenly gave out. He collapsed rather ungracefully on the cold stone floor, all the breath knocked out of him. The ghosts whispered gleefully. He didn't try to get up again.
All for nothing...
His brother's golden eyes glared at him from the depths of his memory, the hostile expression quite out of place on his usually stupidly clueless but friendly face. Traitor. Murderer.
Yes. He thought tiredly. All that and much more. I wanted to hate you, Brother. But I can't. Not even when my blood ran red down your shiny gold sword. You say I was a traitor, a murderer, but for all I did, I never spilled a drop of your ichor before you got it into your head to kill me. Who was truly the traitor there?
He closed his sightless eyes. Perhaps you will get your wish after all...
-the worlds are wide and full of wonders-
His eyes snapped open. Where did that come from?
The red-eyed girl gave him a crooked grin, and fingers made from memories trailed through his hair and made a mighty mess of it.
(i cannot understand your childish obsession with my hair. you seem to be besotted with it.)
The girl laughed, a light, musical sound. Her crimson eyes sparkled playfully.
You have beautiful hair. You're a beautiful person. Her face grew serious. You shouldn't let yourself become so cold, Shrimp. You shouldn't make yourself so sad. Phantom fingers brushed his jaw for a moment, evading his attempt to stop her. You've got more than any of those wankers out there. She pointed with her middle finger at a distant mountain range. The worlds are wide and full of wonders, Salt Shrimp, you just gotta look for them. Something out there can teach you how to smile again, I know. She tilted her head and grinned. That is, if I don't get there first.
He'd kept his silence. He regretted it now. He regretted not speaking to her when he could, not smiling earlier. Now it was too late. Even you. I thought I could keep you, but I couldn't have that, either. Even gods die around me.
...the worlds are wide and full of wonders.
You're dead. He told her, dry-eyed. You, and the rest.
My bad, really. But you're not. The little girl-goddess knelt and entwined her fingers with his, her blood-red eyes sad. You're not dead yet. This isn't your time. Get up, you spineless Shrimp. Or I'll- She looked thoughtful for a moment. - You know what? I don't know. But I'll make something up.
Let me die in peace, you unbearable brat. He thought.
Coward. She dropped his hand. Are you so desperate to die? You, of all people? Craven, I say. You are craven.
Craven? No, just tired. Leave me.
No can do. The tone of stubborn adamance almost did for him. It sounded exactly as if she was alive. No. If you die, I die with you. You're the last. No-one else remembered me when I was alive. If you die, I die. If you won't live for yourself, do it for me. For Steve. Your promise, Shrimp. Keep your promise. The worlds are wide and full of wonders.
Steve. The shock was like a slap to the face. Purple eyes. The facial structure. The sense for ores. How could I have not seen?
You win. He pushed himself to his feet and struggled to stand. Then a step forwards. And another, and another.
The little ghost grinned, and vanished back into the recesses of his mind.
"How... what?"
I stared in disbelief at the bloody shape on the ground. I rolled him over to look at his face, just to be sure. Trails of blood ran from his eyes as if he was weeping red tears. But above all, he was breathing.
Beneath the blood-matted back locks, a pair of eyes flicked open almost lazily.
The irises were bright silver.
Hello, Steve.
I promptly tripped over my own feet, hit my head on the hard ground, and blacked out.
Apologies. I will have a school camp next week and will be unlikely to update anytime soon.