Redemption

Disclaimer: I do not own PotS, but I thank Tamora Pierce for providing such a rich "playground."

"Split Self"

Joren wondered if he should make the same choice as before. He knew something was terribly wrong, but even if he ended up back in the chapel, he was not supposed to speak. Therefore he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about the problem with the Chamber. For the first time in a long time, Joren of Stone Mountain was afraid. Perhaps this really was part of his Ordeal and he needed to see it through. Although he truly had no desire to die a slow death, this time Joren thought in his mind, "I choose slow and unbearable."

Joren pressed his lips tightly together and bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming aloud in agony. It felt like his skin was being peeled away from his body and every nerve ending was on fire. He finally blacked out from the excruciating pain. When Joren regained consciousness, he felt nothing. He wondered if he truly was dead.

"No, you're not exactly dead - yet" hissed an eerily familiar voice. "But you will be soon enough. It just takes more time with people like you."

Joren slowly turned his head toward the malevolent voice and jumped back in surprise. His eyes flew wide open as he looked into his own face, and he nearly screamed aloud. The being who was speaking to Joren was his mirror image, right down to the lazy sneer that was his normal facial expression.

"Go ahead," drawled the being. "You can scream all you want to now. No one will hear you. It doesn't matter anymore."

Joren hesitated to say anything. He didn't want to be tricked into speaking and thus disqualify himself from earning his shield. He continued to press his lips into a thin line.

The eerie 'twin' nodded toward a body lying in the middle of the stone floor. Joren realized that he now could see in the darkness. As he silently approached the body he could no longer stifle his scream of terror, because the body was his. There he was, a limp, lifeless form, his white-blond hair flopped over his slack face. Joren gulped in quick breaths and looked back and forth between his 'twin,' his body and himself. He couldn't make sense of what was happening. He didn't want to believe that he was dead, but then what was this? Joren trembled with fear and anger.

"Like I said before," drawled his 'twin' in the tone of voice he was beginning to hate. "You're not quite dead, but neither are you alive. Your body will last a little while longer while we proceed. Pay no attention to that - you have serious work ahead of you."

"Who ... who are you?" asked Joren, his voice barely audible.

"Why, I am the embodiment of the Chamber of the Ordeal, especially presented to you in the image of the person you respect and admire and listen to the most - yourself," said his 'twin' in Joren's own mocking tone of voice, as he bowed toward Joren with a flourish.

"I ... I ... don't understand what's happening," croaked Joren, still trembling with fear.

"Let's see," said the Chamber/Joren. "The ripping sensation you felt was exactly that - your spirit was being ripped from your physical body. You have quite a journey ahead of you, and your physical body would only hinder you. Trust me; it's much better this way."

Joren just blinked in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, say something," mocked the Chamber/Joren. "I know you usually have some sort of witty response to situations you don't understand. Please, dazzle me with your cynical brilliance."

"What ... why is this happening to me?" stammered Joren.

"You requested the 'slow and unbearable' death, did you not?"

"I ... well ... yes, but only after I realized that the 'quick and painful' death meant an endless cycle of entering and re-entering the Chamber and hearing that awful voice."

"You mean this voice?" boomed the Chamber/Joren in that horrible screeching voice.

Joren winced and covered his ears, "Yes, that voice. Please stop it!"

"We've had enough dawdling." said the Chamber/Joren. "We must go. There is much to do and not a lot of time."

"Wait!" cried Joren angrily. "I demand that you tell me what's going on right now!"

The Chamber/Joren looked at Joren with an icy expression that Joren realized he had given to others most of his life. Then his 'twin' smiled in a way that sent chills down Joren's insubstantial spine.

"That's exactly the attitude that got you into this predicament. You're in a very unique situation, my young friend. Mithros himself judged you and found you lacking any redeeming qualities, so he condemned you to death. However, the Dark God also found you lacking, and will not usher you into his realm as a malevolent spirit who will harass other souls for eternity."

"What?!" screamed Joren, not believing what he heard.

"That's right, golden boy," drawled the Chamber/Joren. "You're too rotten to live and you're too rotten to die. This doesn't happen very often. It's truly amazing. Unbelievable!"

Joren's mind was reeling again. He couldn't think of what he had done to deserve such a harsh judgment. He was sure there must be some horrible mistake, and he frantically thought of how to plead his case.

"There's been no mistake. I suppose it was a bit confusing with the whole "choose your death" routine, because there never was going to be a choice. The gods just needed to decide what to do with you. Pray that you will learn what you need to learn and change what you need to change. Otherwise, you will become a soul I will pity for all of eternity. Let's get started; we're wasting your time now."

Joren had nothing to say. His mind was numb from the horror of it all. His 'split self' was making him crazy. He didn't want to believe that this was how he sounded or behaved, but he knew it was true. He didn't want to believe that his life had sunk so low. This truly was unbearable. Joren knew that he obviously had no future, but he could only wonder, "Just how slow and unbearable would this death be?"

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far. Please keep them coming! Thank you!