To Have a Spark
Forbidden Cities II: Of Gods and Men
"Only the blind can find their way in the dark."
"...Go now, and be the Prime you should be."
The Prime walked away from the shadows of Kaon. He took himself and his human visitor back to the peaceful halls he knew so well. Renalt said nothing as the last words from the Council faded away. What could he say to that? What could he say to any of it? Here he was, traversing the very mind, the very idea of Optimus Prime. Here he was, in a place that no one dared to go, yet it was offered him as his own secrets had been traversed. Part of him wished to slough away the idea that his own psyche had been touched without his word, warring fiercely with the reason behind it. It battled ceaselessly, and here Renalt was within the most powerful weapon against the shadow of violation.
"Have you thoughts, Renalt? Your silence is not silent here," The Prime gently ran a finger down Renalt's back.
"I don't know what to think. You did this very thing to me, yet here I am...with you. I should be furious with you," he somehow couldn't hold his head up to try facing the Prime.
"I know. And I accept that fury. Do you accept the reason behind what I have done?"
"I don't know. Part of it only drives the fact further home that...that Len is dead. That I'm still here, not at his back where I should be."
Optimus frowned and fell silent. He walked on, through his golden city and out again, across a terrain he had been forced to learn during that ancient trek to find Primus. The massive being walked across what were now barren wastelands with a sea that had gone still and dry. Neither said a word through this crossing until the sea, or what was once a sea, gave way to a formidable mountain range.
"I must place you on my shoulder, Renalt," The Prime lifted his hand, twisting his wrist actuators just so to allow the human to crawl onto the safest little dip in his shoulder.
"Where...exactly are you taking me?" Renalt couldn't ignore the gentle tipping twist of Optimus' hand, guiding him to the area on his shoulder. Sliding carefully, the human noted a distinct give, a softness that rivalled the Prime's fingers. He crouched, hands trailing to explore what were essentially, thick cables strafed across the massive frame. The thought occurred to him that this was, in essence, bare, exposed muscle.
"This doesn't hurt you, does it?"
"No, Renalt. Now hold on."
This wasn't something the teenager had expected to do. He sat on exposed cabling, finding one that was raised just a bit, and latched on. Yet he feared holding on too tightly; his sensitive hands noting the feeling of liquid rushing through these cables. Muscle. Blood. Wires. Fuel. His mind briefly debated, silently equating one type of anatomy with another.
Renalt found himself almost curling in, feeling every movement beneath him. He felt every pull, twist, turn and bend of the Prime's shoulder. By that, the odd feeling of being at an angle, and the sound of his movements, Renalt noted a climb. A steep one. A hard one that smelled of rock, sweat and minor traces of blood that wasn't blood on the Prime's hands. This trek seemed to go one forever, engendering brief wisps of questions that never quite formed – just how high were these mountains? How harsh was the stone beneath? – until at last, they reached the summit.
The Prime stood still for a moment, letting his charge – his mind didn't correct the word into 'guest' – feel the light wind up here that was neither hot nor cold.
"We are almost there."
"Almost where?" Renalt couldn't help but keep his voice down for some reason. It was the kind of whisper one used in the presence of greatness. Great natural beauty, or after hearing a song that touched the soul as firmly as a forge-master's hammer touched hot metal, forever shaping it.
"You will find out."
The way down was little easier than the way up. Over these mountains, which the Prime briefly called the Manganese Mountains, they went. Alternating between walking, crawling and awkwardly back-shimmying down, the Prime spoke nothing further, even as they touched flat ground again, progressing to an area he called the Hydrax Plateau. He carried the boy in silence across another flat expanse, stopping only when the air changed.
It smelled different here. It felt different, sounded different.
Optimus carefully sat, crossing his legs and offering a hand to Renalt. The boy left Prime's shoulder, crawling onto the offered hand once he found it. He listened to the air here, finding the acoustics a little strange. Before them, a great round maw opened up into the earth, one that held no floor. Ancient patterns spiralled down the walls of this great thing, like it had been carved or drilled by some planet-sized titan in the distant past.
"This is the Well of All Sparks. Hold onto me," Optimus' voice was strangely low and even here. To explain further, he extended his hand over the edge. Renalt latched onto a finger.
"That's...it sounds like a bloody deep hole."
"I will not drop you. Below you, is the Well of All Sparks. It is...was...from here, that all Cybertronians are sparked into existence. Born, you might say, before the sparks travel to the cities."
"Is...is it empty?" Renalt asked.
"You could call it that. This is where I journeyed to find the Matrix of Leadership. The Matrix is what makes a Cybertronian a Prime."
"How did you get down there?" He leaned a little, as if trying to peer into the Well he could never see.
"I did not jump, if that is what you are thinking. The Well's walls are not glass," the Prime almost laughed. Almost.
"What..." Renalt gulped. He could hear it, he could feel the immeasurable drop below him. "What's down there?" There was almost fear in his voice.
"Not 'what'. 'Who'. Primus lives there, within the very heart of our world."
Renalt's eyebrows knitted in thought. "Is that scientifically possible?"
"Yes, Renalt. It is. If...if ever the chance comes, I will prove it to you, if you desire."
A gust of scentless wind rushed up from the Well. It carried an oddness to it, a heaviness that brought Renalt's mind to the fore and to the past simultaneously. An unexplained anger filled him, compelling the youth to let go of Optimus' finger and stand defiantly on the palm of his hand.
"So why did you do this? To lecture me on my own will? To play psychiatrist?"
"No."
"Did you think that I'd somehow 'see the light' and be converted to something?"
"Why would I convert any living thing from its current state?" Confusion had the Prime's eyebrow ridges knit together in something that wasn't a scowl.
"You took the choice away," Flatly spoken. Somehow, he didn't quite feel the rage.
"Your mind was clouded. It still is."
"And who are you to decide that?"
"Do you deny that you were intending to end your existence?"
"It's my life!" Renalt shot back. Glaring daggers, the youth turned his back on the Prime, ready to leap off of the Cybertronian's hand, facing away from the Well of All Sparks. He was ready, tensed to leap until two of the Prime's fingers wrapped around his waist. The grip was gentle enough to not cause pain, but firm enough that Renalt couldn't wriggle free, no matter how hard he tried.
"And you only have one! One life, Renalt. One existence that is confirmed," The Prime's voice dropped to rattle the human's bones.
Renalt sneered. "I thought freedom was your precious ideal."
"It is, but what is freedom when it is clouded by impaired judgement?"
"What do you know of my mind?"
"I was there, remember?" Optimus growled back. By now, his hand had lifted, putting himself almost literally nose-to-nose with the human. Fingers curled in and around, not daring to allow the human any leeway to fall. Or worse, leap.
"No one invited you," The icy words ground out of Renalt's mouth were birthed from pure anger, yet when they were spoken, pain followed. Tears followed. Renalt squirmed, trying to effectively turn his back in the Prime's face.
Optimus Prime said nothing to that. The titan only brought the human close, holding him now with both hands against his chassis. It was the truth – he hadn't 'been invited'. Yet it was also true that the Prime couldn't handle the concept of a being taking its own life, whatever the reason. His voice became nothing as he sat next to the Well of All Sparks, holding the human. He wept with the human then, and in the silence, Optimus Prime's tears echoed where words had no power to reach. The Autobot leader slid closer to the Well, so that his feet dangled over the edge. He wasn't foolish enough to let himself or the human fall in, but the childlike need to be near Primus was a strong need right then. This was where Optimus Prime wasn't strong, where the mighty Autobot could not stand on his own. He didn't feel like Optimus Prime any longer – he felt like Orion Pax. The young, inexperienced Orion Pax.
His tears fell into the great abyss like rain, joining Renalt's own. They fell without a sound of them landing anywhere, like rain evaporating before making landfall.
s=
"I...Turn around," Ratchet's voice shook. The others, clustered around as they were, immediately turned their backs. Eyes and optics variously widened or clenched shut. Team Prime had gotten a rather intimate lesson into just who Optimus Prime of Iacon City, really was.
=s=
The silent tears fell for what seemed like hours within this private world. It was a silence slowly broken by the Prime himself. Quiet sobs preceded a low, moaning chant that drifted from English to Cybertronian, to a sound that went beyond music.
"I'm sorry. Primus, I'm so sorry. Hold on, you can hold onto me."
"Mae gen i un adain. I'm sorry. Len, I'm sorry!" Renalt's own voice drifted between English and the Welsh his mother had taught him.
It was the invocation of Primus' name in two languages that began the change of this inner world. From within, the Matrix seemed to shiver and tremble. From the Well, a deep, rumbling roar issued forth. Renalt wept unashamedly within the Prime's hands, echoing similar words of contrition. Words that begged mercy, that cried out forgiveness to one that had long since been dead. Below, the ground's solidity came into question. The Prime's own form became a little fuzzy, as if someone had taken a camera effect, blurring his sharp lines of reality.
What reconstituted around them both was somewhere that seemed outside of time, outside of comprehension. With it, came a strange peace. It was as something building up around them, shaky at first, the foundation unsteady. It solidified slowly, forcing the Prime to set his charge down. Renalt opened his mouth, almost in protest. It was a fear he didn't understand – Renalt feared losing the touch of the Prime's hands. Yet the touch was lost, leaving Renalt seated in a metallic room of some kind.
A room where Optimus Prime seemed absent.
"I am here."
The voice came from all around him. It resonated throughout this chamber, whatever it was. Above him, Renalt heard a sound he'd never heard before – it was as a heartbeat, but not. It was smoother, had a different rhythm, and seemed to circulate within itself with a touch of what sounded like the crackle of electricity.
"I am here, Renalt. Hold onto me," the voice sounded again, echoing in soft thunder. A peculiar warmth descended from the heartbeat-like sound above him. Although Renalt found nothing solid to hold onto, he curled into the feeling.
"I'm lost," he whispered.
"I am here. Will you let me help you find your way?"