I'M ALIVE! Oh my goodness, how long has it been? Years! I last updated more than two years ago!
A lot has happened in two years, but I'm still, still studying. I've graduated, but still studying. It's an excuse to feel like I'm still young, when I'm able to say, "I'm a student."
Thank you for all the reviewers and followers who've given me their feedback in my long absence. I can't express how guilty I am that this is only up now. I've made some slight adjustments to my writing style, but hopefully it's not jarring. Also, I've written this chapter in such a way that it would hopefully jog your memory as you read along, so you don't have to go back and read too much of my awful older chapters. It's a bit shorter, but I just really need to pick this up again.
In other exciting news, I'm happy to announce the new 'fic I've been writing with fellow Diablo author, Emmelyn Cindy Mah! It's a Diablo III fanfic called Raindrop Pendants, and it's published here on ff-dot-net, under our joint-author account, "Em and Oph". It's the sequel to BOTH our 'fics, and contains spoilers for our present 'fics, though not too much, just yet. If you like our stories, go check out this one! We've tried to combine our strengths and deliver something truly special.
Anyway, without further ado... I present to you, this long-overdue chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: The Diablo franchise belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. None of this is done for profit, otherwise I wouldn't be trying to scrounge free food at uni every chance I get.
Chapter 37
Worlds Apart
We cremated him.
It's not as though there wasn't enough fire and red and smoke in that place already. I did not miss the irony of the burning of our fallen comrades in Hell.
Oread did not weep. She just watched as the smoke curled into the red sky above, watched as the flames licked at the body that once belonged to her newly-wedded spouse. The light of the fire was reflected in her gaze, and there were no tears to put out the flames in her eyes.
She held his dagger in her hand, and while her husband burned, she held it up – for a moment I was overtaken by panic, but she brought it to the back of her neck – and cut off her long braid with a swift movement.
She tossed it into the fire, and the silver-wheaten locks were charred almost instantly into ashes.
Tyrael was there. For days, he was silent, letting us drink in the series of events that got us here, and left others behind. Jamella and Halbu seemed to think it was a better idea to let myself and my master be for a while.
I was thankful for that.
Sure, the place made me lose track of time, but I felt – knew – that it was too soon. It wasn't possible to experience so many emotions in so short a time –
Losing a companion. Getting married to another. Losing that companion. Those are things that should never happen in quick succession.
Perhaps that was why Oread never wept for her lost love.
"What are you going to do from here?" I asked her after two days of silence. I still had my master… or rather, I still wanted a master. I still wanted to have a goal, somewhere to be, someone for whom I could work.
… Hell, I wanted my master to tell me what we should do. I was lost. I wanted to go somewhere. Somewhere else… somewhere other than this place – this place that had taken two of our companions.
We were in our shared tent – the one we shared before her wedding – and sitting across from one another, on the edges of our own beds. She was staring at her hands, her right toying with the steel band on her left hand's finger. Her hair, messy from the uneven cut and tangled from being uncombed for days, fell over her face and shadowed her eyes.
"My sister died here," She said finally, her voice small and cool. "And I'd killed the one who killed her, but in the process…" She ran her hand through her bangs, sweeping them out of her eyes. "He's not meant to die here."
"You—" I cleared my throat and swallowed; just that she had not been crying, that did not mean I had not shed my fair share of tears over our loss. The back of my eyes started to tingle as I tried to keep my voice even. "You can't change what's happened. We couldn't help it. We tried our best and it wasn't enough. We…" I could not look at her anymore. "… We weren't enough."
"So why would you want to keep going when we can't even do enough where we are?"
"That's not the point and you know it." My voice cracked, and my hand flew over my mouth to cover up my sob, but my eyes overflowed. "We can't stay here. You'll fall to pieces if we stay in this place – hell, I feel like I'm falling to pieces. If we stay here we'll just end up wallowing in what happened, and what could have been, and —"
"You want to leave?"
"I want to. You… need to."
"We're going to Harrogath."
"We — what?"
She tossed me something, and it landed on the bed beside me. Some sort of cast-bronze medallion, its relief tracing out a skull surrounded by some entangling form. I did not make out too many details – looking at the thing was disconcerting.
"Harrogath. That's where he was headed," Oread explained, drawing her knees to her chest and hugged them close. "That thing over there gave him the right and responsibility to execute one of his kinsmen. If it weren't for that someone, he wouldn't be out here in the first place."
"You're… finishing his job for him?"
"Would you rather go home?"
… Would I? Home was where my master was. Where my companions were. I'd found home with her, and family with Falcon, and Leaf, and Nyhl… even Master Cain, and Natalya. Everyone we'd met on the way, they made me feel at home with the way I was living.
I had left my home with the Sisterhood to find a new one with this woman, and I felt that… even if I were to return to my sisters now, it would no longer be home.
I've changed too much.
"I'd rather stay with you."
"Then you shouldn't have to ask anymore."
I fell quiet then. We hadn't talked like that in… a long time, and I had forgotten how close I grew to her. She was the only one who was with me all the way since this journey began. Everyone else came and went.
… And then there's Jerhyn.
"Well… just so you know." I forced a smile onto my face, but it stayed there more easily than I had expected. "I'd rather you're taken care of." She did not respond, and I felt a little desperation in continuing some form of conversation. "I can fix your hair if you want."
"You can if you want."
"Well… I do want to."
"Then go ahead."
I felt something tug at my chest again, and chuckled. The sound came out pathetically sad. "When did we become so awkward?"
"It's not your fault. I don't feel much like talking."
"…I'll go find some scissors."
Oread ended up taking a bath before I could manage to untangle her hair. Her hair was much too fine and it was a pain to handle, but it was slightly less of a pain when it was wet.
"If you don't mind me asking this… if it's not… well, sensitive or some such," I tested as I combed out her hair, "why did you cut it?"
"Tradition," She answered, wincing quietly as I tugged on a stubborn knot. "In my tribe, girls and women keep their hair long. Widows, however…"
"Right." I cut her off curtly. "It's a right mess now, you know… 'cause of the way you did it."
"Sorry."
"No, no… I offered to fix it for you, after all." You offer what you can't give, Celadon. "Well, I'll try."
"It'll grow back."
"I'll still try my best to make it look proper!" The determination in my voice surprised me; perhaps I needed that little victory after all the losses. "It'll make you feel better, too."
"You think so?"
"I know so." Or do you? "Now stop moving about."
"Thank you, Celadon."
"…You're welcome." I started to even out the length of her hair; it was going to fall no further than the nape of her neck by the time I would be finished. "If you're going to have short hair from now on, you may as well make it look good."
"You'll have to see to that, then. I can't cut my own hair properly."
I thought I heard a smile in that, however faint it might be. "That… will be fine. I'll take care of it. You just take care of yourself, please."
"I will."
"Good."
I heard her crying that night.
I woke up in the middle of the night and heard her sobbing. She sounded so openly distressed, that I realised she was crying in her dreams. Her nightmares.
I sidled over and called out softly to her. She stirred, but didn't wake. I thought of giving it another try, but then something compelled me to act otherwise. Without quite knowing what I was doing, I lifted her blankets a little, slid in to lie down beside her, and eased her into my arms.
She had aged – felt thinner, frailer. I reminded myself that she was twenty-two years old, and I was eighteen, myself. At the back of my head, I wondered when my birthday had come and gone.
I supposed that in times of peace, in places without corruption – in another world where Sanctuary lived up to its name, we'd be faring well to adolescence, probably living with young, healthy, fit husbands who could take care of us, perhaps experiencing the joys and excitement of parenthood. In a better world, I could be married to a man I loved, living in a big household with all my sisters – maybe all my brothers, too, if there never existed a need for my parents to part ways. Even if I were not married, I would be travelling, seeing the beauty and wonder of the world, a world untainted.
But here we were, instead. I had left the man I loved to wash my hands with blood, to cloud my eyes with smoke, to weigh my heart with guilt. Here I was, holding a young woman not much older than myself, lest she would fall apart – a young woman, at the prime of her years, the most beautiful and desirable time of her life, who had already loved and lost.
What hope was there for me? We're in Hell, after all.
"Take us there, Tyrael." Oread finally requested two days later. "Take us away."
That probably had to do with the fact that Jamella and Halbu had been actively trying to put an end to their duties in this place, too. While Oread and I had been recuperating – from the shock of the experience more than anything else we'd sustained corporeally – they had been arranging to seal up the connection to this place adequately. The preparations were apparently extensive, but neither I nor my master were inclined to ask about the details.
Oread and I were helping them pack and order all their things, amongst which were the shelves of ashes. She'd set two urns aside, and asked the question as she straightened from setting them aside carefully.
"Away to where?" The archangel responded without a pause in his work. Still contained within the body of a young boy, he was squatting down in the middle of the fortress' courtyard, carefully inscribing runes into the stone with his magic. Kande was clinging onto his back and watching over his shoulder with fascination. "Where's there? The war's still waging back in the mortal realm and it's nowhere near over. I have to go back as soon as this is done, and I'm not sure if it's appropriate for you to be hitching a ride from me, if you want to go home."
I reminded myself that he could read our minds, anyway. Then again, perhaps his powers were diminished, with his recent mishap?
"You're going north, aren't you? To fix up that issue with Diablo's brother." Oread's voice was stern, but flat. "We'll come along."
"I've already asked too much of you, have I not?" Tyrael completed another rune, and a section of the inscriptions winked momentarily with a bluish glow. Kande let out a squeal of fascination from over his shoulder. "No-one should be forced to go there. The Barbarian tribes, at the least, are eager, and they have some people coming to their aid from the nearby strongholds in the north." He straightened up, holding his hands out behind him as Kande slid off his back, so as to catch her and lower her to the floor. The infant let out an unhappy whine, and held out her little arms, asking to be picked up again. With a resigned sigh, Tyrael lifted her and held her to his front. "You should be headed in the opposite direction. Go home to Philios, Oread. You've earned it."
This was unexpected, after all the vigorous righteousness he's exhibited thus far, and the defiance he'd inspired – or tried to inspire – within us.
"My husband had business in Harrogath." Oread reached into her pocket, feeling the medallion that I knew to be in there. She was wearing one of Nyhl's shirts, tied at the waist with a sash of her own, with the sleeves folded back, despite my protest against it. I made a mental note to dissuade her from bringing those along with her, when we leave. "I wouldn't have really laid him to rest until I finish it for him."
Tyrael stared at her for a long time, until Kande, looking somewhat confused, nudged him insistently. He dipped his head, apparently acquiescing to her resolve. "Alright." He even managed a little solemn smile, which, on the face of a child, looked merely shy at first glance. "Thank you."
"It's not like I'm doing it for you – or Harrogath, or for the sake of anyone." Oread shrugged and turned away, lowering herself as she began wrapping up the urns in layers of fabric.
Kande wriggled out of Tyrael's hold – perhaps no longer interested now that he had stopped inscribing the runes – and ran over to me. "Auntie Cel is going away?" She asked quietly, her delicate brows furrowed.
I smiled and ruffled her hair, watching her ringlets bounce. "We'll come visit once we're not so busy anymore."
The image crept into my head : a city, roofs glimmering in the desert sun, richly-dyed textiles fluttering in the hot wind. The jewel of Aranoch – Lut Gholein. Jamella and Halbu. Jerhyn and I. Kande, a little older now, and another child – a baby in my arms.
If this world was to find peace, we would be family. But there was no use longing for the warmth that I wouldn't feel at least for a while, no point wishing for the light that I perhaps would never see again.
Oread and I left Hell three days later, and arrived back into our own realm, greeted by biting wind, bitter cold, and a land of immense, endless grey.
Oread gazed up at the thick, dark clouds, and smiled when she caught sight of a small patch of blue sky. For the first time in weeks, her eyes lit up, and she let out a misty breath that was almost a laugh.
"Hello, Harrogath."
