Author's Note: I actually wanted to have the previous chapter, this one and the following one all together, but it would turn out being too long, I think. This is why I have decided to divide them up, posting them as soon as I finish one part.
11. Irrational Fear
They entered a cold and measured domain where all the edges were sharply defined and all structures meshed into each other with micrometric precision. The sky and the ground were divided into geometric shapes with perfect straight lines and smooth curves that could be described by simple mathematical expressions. It was abstract and idealized, simplified and well-ordered. Natural formations were reduced to basic shapes, green triangular hills under a blue sky over which white trapezoids and parallelograms floated.
And yet Garfield the jokester could detect that there was a subtle jest here, shared between the creator of the place and the Nature she tried to stylize. Just because Nature seldom used pure geometric forms, it did not mean they were unnatural. Nature was used to simplify Nature; beneath all the algebra and calculus there was still a sea of the unknown and the unknowable, the chaos simply glossed over, the complexity lurking underneath like a monster, ready to sink its teeth into anyone brave enough to feel safe and protected and trusting of simple, easily calculated equations and formulae.
In spite of it, he felt uncomfortable with this simplification of Nature and its reduction to geometry and algebra, the removal of its intrinsic chaos and complexity, just so the creator of this place could feel safe in an illusion of absence of the unexpected and the undefinable, wrapped in a cocoon of comfortable predictability. At least it was clear that there used to be beauty here; the geometric shapes melded harmoniously into each other, rotating and mirroring around one another, in places diving into an infinite fractal well of endlessly repeating structures that mimicked themselves eternally, no matter how close one looked, creating infinitely jagged snowflakes and fern-like spirals that curled and twisted forever deeper until they were lost out of comprehension and of sight.
But now cracks in the otherwise perfect landscape radiated out like in a broken window, sharp-edged holes in the ground and the sky allowing glimpses of the noisome blackness burbling under, in places spewing out and contaminating its surroundings with the now familiar foul-smelling, unreflecting slime.
"This is Yellow's place," Purple said unnecessarily, frowning. She pointed to what appeared to be some ruins on top of a trapezoidal hill. "We should go there."
Garfield nodded. As they approached the ruins, he could feel Purple's discomfort silently radiating from her. He looked at her and smiled.
"You don't like it here, do you?"
"Who could?" she said, her frown deepening. "Look at it! There's nothing exciting, nothing surprising, nothing interesting! It's boring!"
He shook his head. "I don't think so. Just because you can't see it, it doesn't mean that this place is unlovely, static and predictable. And I think Yellow knows it and likes it that way."
"Humph!" Purple snorted, unconvinced. His smile expanded into a grin. "You're jealous of her, aren't you?"
"And what if I am?" she asked angrily. "Raven's always deferring to her, listening to her advice, showing her to the world, doing what she says. Every time something important has to be decided she ignores the rest of us, then when we start acting up to try and be heard, she chains us and drowns us and locks us up!"
He stopped and turned to her, concern in his eyes. "That's not true and you know it. If it were so…" his arm went around her and he ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, pressed herself to him and purred.
"Mmmmm. You can convince me of anything, Gar."
His grin appeared again. "Good to know. Let's go."
He released her and turned, continuing on his way. She followed him, pouting. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
They ascended a flight of cracked stone stairs to stand in front of the jumbled ruins. She was sitting cross-legged among the pile of rocks, hood pulled up and eyes closed, the yellow cloak settled around her in precise and symmetrical folds. They approached her.
"Why are you here, Purple sister?" she asked in a hoarse voice. Purple just sniffed loftily, not deigning to answer.
"She brought me," Garfield said. The head under the yellow hood moved slightly up, as if surprised. A sharp intake of breath followed it.
"… you…?" she ventured, tasting the word, rolling it in her mouth, feeling it slide off her tongue and through her lips.
She fell silent, the head dipping back down. "No. You are gone. All is gone. There is nothing left. He won."
"It is me. Look at me. I'm here. I came to –"
"NO!" Yellow cried without moving. "You're not here! You are gone, they are gone, everything is gone! He can't be denied, he can't be overcome, he can't be defeated!" Her voice trailed away, as if the effort exhausted her. "You are not here," she continued softly, reassuring herself. "It is not… rational."
"I was never a rational one, in case you forgot," he said gently, his hands reaching for her hood. She didn't move or resist him in any way. The hood went down and he saw her face. His heart froze.
It was not a scar. It was a festering wound that went from cheekbone to cheekbone over both her eyes, the same black tar oozing and bubbling in it, dripping over her cheeks like a malignant travesty of tears. Horrified, he realized that her blindness was only the physical manifestation of her mind's inability to see, brought on by Trigon's taint. If he wanted to heal her, he would have to make her cleanse herself of it somehow.
He pushed away the pain of seeing her hurt that way and focused on what he had to do. His hand touched her cheek. Her lips trembled, but she didn't move.
"No," she whimpered, her breath coming out with difficulty now. "It's not you. It's an insect. A bug. It landed on my face. It's not…" she fell silent. Black tears dripped from the slash over her eyes.
"It's not a bug. There are no bugs here. It's me."
She shook her head in denial, making him curl his fingers back. He frowned.
"For all your common sense and rationality, you're denying the logical answer. It is me. I am here. I am speaking to you."
"The senses are… unreliable. They can… deceive. Only I am true. Only I am rational. The rest is… a mirage. A lie."
"Oh, don't get all Descartes on me!" he growled, frustrated. "You wanna play philosophy? Too bad, 'cause you're not doubting. You are rejecting, and that's just as false as accepting uncritically!"
Her head lifted a little. "Doubt…? I do not… doubt. I must not!" she said, fear rising in her voice. "I should not…" She gasped and moaned softly. "I… should doubt."
His hand grasped hers. "Yes. Because maybe I'm not here. Maybe I'm not holding your hand. Or maybe he has lied to you, and maybe he's still lying to you and I am here and I love you, in spite of his lies and his malice."
Her mouth worked soundlessly. The hand he was touching opened, her fingers seeking and entwining with his own. He squeezed them gently and spoke. "What do you see? He can blind your eyes, but not your mind."
"I am… blind, but he… showed me… how I am not… how I should not…" she stammered, uncertainty clawing at her, fear choking her. The pale fingers gripped his hand. "You… are real. Then my father… lied?"
"He did. And he is not your father. Remember! Remember the broken Tower! Remember him sitting in its ruins like on a giant throne! Remember the seas of lava, the people turned to stone! Remember what he tried to do to us, what he almost did to you!"
"He is… my father," she croaked, breathless. His hand went up to her cheek again. Her head moved just a tiny fraction, seeking his touch.
"Yes. But fathers give love, and comfort, and hope. He has given you hatred, and pain, and despair."
"Then he is not… my father?"
"He is not. He never was."
"I only… I don't know. I am not sure what to think. This is not… rational."
"Rationality will only take you so far," he whispered to her. "There is more beyond it. Do not be afraid to seek. Do not shun faith. Do not fear to trust."
She was breathing hard now, almost gasping, the word coming laboriously through her throat. "T – Trust?"
"You can trust him, or you can trust me. Or you can trust yourself. It is time for you to choose."
His hand touched the wound. The black pus retreated, fearful of him. But it could not go back inside. More of it came flowing, forced and squeezed out to run over her face and around his fingers and into the light of day where it was revealed for what it was, and it withered and smoked and curdled and vanished. The wound closed. Her eyes opened.
"Thank you," she said as her hand went up, fingers touching his lips hesitantly. He kissed them softly, then helped her up.
He wrapped his arms around her and let her get hold of herself. After a few moments she pushed him away gently, looking at him. Her eyes had their usual calm expression again, but her eyebrow went up in puzzlement.
"Descartes?"
He laughed. "A few ages ago I got myself a copy of Philosophy for Dummies. Even at that level it just made my head hurt. But I remembered that part."
Purple giggled and embraced Garfield from behind. "He's full of surprises, isn't he, sister?"
Yellow extended her hand. From within the rubble her thick glasses floated up, encased in a black mist. She studied them, chanted the mantra softly and watched in satisfaction as the broken lenses and the twisted frame repaired themselves. She placed them on her nose and looked at Purple and Changeling through them.
"That he is. Let's go."
"Ow!" he complained as Yellow probed the gash on his forearm somewhat roughly. He realized she was angry at him for taking risks, even though she wouldn't be caught dead admitting it. They were attacked by six large demons this time, and in response he morphed into one of Nature's many perfect killing machines, the utahraptor. Two demons were disemboweled instantly by the razor-sharp, ten-inch, sickle-like claws while a third had its throat torn out in the first attack. The remaining three, however, managed to split and encircle him. His concern for Raven's aspects behind him made him careless of the demon in front and he paid for it with a long, deep, painful gash on his left forearm before he could shred the remaining opponents to pieces.
Purple was standing behind him, her arms folded around him and her hands playing over his chest as she landed small comforting kisses on the back of his neck. The mixture of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, but he couldn't allow himself to lose sight of his ultimate goal. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and took hold of Purple's hands to stop her from exploring too far.
Yellow's severe brows knitted together into a small frown. She chanted the mantra and the wound closed. "He's not only yours, sister," she growled.
Purple giggled. Garfield squeezed her hands and turned his head to look at her. "She's right, you know."
She pursed her lips petulantly, but she couldn't maintain it too long. She released him and walked over to Yellow, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her eyes glowed and she stared at Garfield as she whispered in Yellow's ear, loud enough for him to hear clearly.
"Maybe we can make it a threesome? I know you like to explore new things."
Yellow pushed her away, her face red. "Not those kinds of things, sister! Now get a hold of yourself and focus on what we have to do!"
Purple laughed and kissed Yellow on the cheek, then turned, her cape swirling around her as she walked to the next archway, her merriment trailing behind her. Yellow rolled her eyes in exasperation and followed in her wake. Garfield went after them, the blush making his face glow.
They walked amidst large boulders strewn on the ground haphazardly. Illumination was soft and sourceless, coming from everywhere and leaving the grey bulk of the granite dark but without casting any shadows.
"Any one of these boulders can have an unpleasant surprise waiting behind it," Garfield grumbled. "Keep your eyes open!"
Treading carefully, they continued ahead without a real direction in mind. It was not necessary, Garfield realized. Whatever they looked for – and whatever was looking for them – would be there soon enough.
As if on cue, his sensitive ears heard the patter of running feet clad in soft boots. It was unmistakably her, he would recognize those footsteps anytime and anywhere, but he didn't know which one of her aspects it was. Morphing into a gecko, he climbed a boulder and turned back into himself, searching and scanning in the direction where the sound was coming from. Then he saw it and shuddered.
He had seen it only once before, but he would never forget it. Two faces behind theatrical masks, one sad, one happy, incongruous and unmoving. Two stone hands holding two stone swords swishing through the air, their edges no less deadly for being blunt. It moved quickly, the swords flashing, shearing away stone and cracking boulders in half.
"Stay here!" he shouted at Yellow and Purple, turning into a bat and flying closer to the animated statue. He had a good idea of what it was attacking.
A figure in a green cloak was running away from it, desperately trying to escape the whistling blades. She was fast, but fear and despair were evident in her movements. Worse, she appeared exhausted and stumbled more than once, only her well-honed reflexes enabling her to roll away from the descending swords and jump up and run again, fleeing for her life.
He had to hurry. He switched into cheetah form and launched himself towards them. Again she stumbled and fell, arms sprawled as if she was trying to hug the ground, chest heaving with the exertion. She rolled over quickly and tried to dodge the stone blade flashing down at her, but this time it was too late, she was too tired, her muscles wouldn't answer any more to the commands of her brain…
A green triceratops slammed into the animated stone, sending it smashing into a large boulder. He instantly transformed into a gorilla, picked her up with one hand and bounded away as fast as he could while the statue righted itself, its blazing eyes looking for its new opponent.
He rejoined Purple and Yellow and placed a gasping Green on the ground with her back to the rock, then turned back into himself. "Keep an eye on it but try not to be seen!" he whispered at Yellow. She nodded and floated a little higher, peering over the rock, following the stone creature with her eyes as it roamed angrily among the boulders, looking for its quarry.
"It's… too strong!" Green stammered between gasps. "I can't… can't fight it!"
"Shhh. Rest now. Get your breath back. We'll take it on together," Garfield said in a reassuring voice.
Her hand gripped his uniform, clenching in a death cramp. "No!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "I can't! It's… I… I'm afraid!"
"It's OK. Relax. Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Calm down."
"No. It's too strong. I won't let you! It'll kill you! Please…" she whined, trembling, her arms going around him, her face seeking comfort in his shoulder. "Please don't leave me," she whispered.
Yellow glanced at them, an eyebrow up. Purple sighed and knelt beside them, embracing Green, helping Garfield to calm her down.
"Just like Yellow was irrational, she is afraid. This is all his doing," Garfield growled.
Purple nodded. Yellow returned her eyes to the animated statue, making sure it didn't sneak up on them. "I wasn't irrational!" she grumbled quietly. Purple giggled softly. "Oh, yes, you were, sister!"
"That's not true!" Yellow snapped furiously, turning to face her. "As if you'd be the one that's able to discern between what's rational and – "
Garfield's sensitive ears heard the crunch of rock under stone feet. "Look out!" he shouted, grabbing Green and launching himself forward, away from the boulder they were hidden behind. With a deafening crack, a stone blade clove it in half, burying itself deep into the hard ground.
"Get her out of here!" he screamed at Yellow and Purple, pushing Green towards them, morphing into a squirrel and jumping onto the sad stone face, bewildering the monster for a moment. Purple and Yellow dragged Green away, scurrying behind yet another large boulder, looking for an escape route.
A fifty-foot green titanoboa wrapped itself around the statue's legs, tripping it and slithering quickly away as the rock creature shook the ground when it fell down. It tried to straighten up, but a green triceratops again slammed into it, throwing it against a nearby rocky wall. Mechanically and emotionlessly it rose again. A green T-Rex spun around and clubbed the statue with its massive tail, sending it back to the ground. Seventy-five tons of viridian argentinosaurus reared up on its hind legs to crush the living statue into dust.
A stony arm shot up, the blunt tip of the sword meeting the enormous mass of the animal as it descended, piercing through its thick hide easily. The enormous forelegs stomped on the rocky monster, but the sword sunk deep into the animal's body. A double scream sounded from the statue; a painful howl exploded from the dinosaur.
The sauropod wrenched itself away, pulling the stone sword from its lower belly. Blood gushed out. The dinosaur shrunk into Garfield's human form, his hands trying to cover the wound in the left side of his groin. Blood flowed freely from it, making it obvious that a large artery was torn. His knees buckled and he fell down, a crimson pool forming quickly around him. The statue rose again and lifted its sword for the final strike.
A foot in a green boot smashed its face, staggering it as rock chips flew.
"Pick on someone smaller than you, rock-brain!" Green snarled and launched herself up. A scything stroke of her left hand and a stony arm flew away, still gripping the sword. Green whirled, avoiding the strike of the second sword, then finished the turn with another cutting blow. The other arm of the stone monster cracked and fell off.
"Time to finish it!" Green hissed through clenched teeth, jumping up and delivering a crushing kick into the smiling mask-face. The stone cracked and broke, the statue's head disintegrated. The armless and headless torso swayed and fell to the rocky ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. Green dropped down, straightened up and dusted herself off, walking over to where Purple and Yellow were kneeling beside Garfield. She pulled her hood up, hiding her face.
"How is he?" she asked, trying to keep her voice cool and emotionless.
"He'll be fine," Yellow commented dryly.
"Need help?"
"No," Yellow replied, a small, crooked smile spreading over her face. "Purple sister's got everything in her hands."
"Yeah, I can see that," Green chuckled. "Everything important, in any case."
Purple glared at them, then returned to treating Garfield's wound, swirling her cloak to hide them from view of the two smirking aspects.