Passengers to the Beyond (Part 3 of 3)

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🔵 | ⏪ PART 01 ⏪ | ⏪ PART 02 ⏪ | ⏸ | 🔵

Jon's hand finally let go of the crystal.

It fell to the floor, bloody, its markings gone.

Jon looked at his damaged hand with stark soberness. He looked up to find Sillburn in full view as it was before. He looked to Xris, lying motionless to the side, Otho leaning over her chest.

"Is she..." Jon started.

Just then, Xris sat up screaming, her eyes wide and her breaths quick.

"O-Otho?" Tears rolled down her cheeks as her master embraced her.

"You escaped. Oh, Xristina! I knew I was right about you."

"I was so scared... it chased me, white and giant and -"

"Shhhh". Otho stroked her hair. "I dare say, it will chase you again, sweet child." He kissed her forehead. "But you're strong. You'll escape it."

Xris looked at him with equal parts astonishment and terror. Only now did she comprehend why they were called Reapers. What it meant to evade death. Otho always told her that she'd find out when the time was right; when she was ready.

She didn't feel ready.

"Little one!" Jon ran over to crouch beside them.

"Regal one..." Xris cupped his cheek. "You saved us..."

"No." Otho said. "You saved us."

"I guess..." She looked between them, forcing a grin. "We all saved us!"

They tended to their wounds. At least, those that could be tended. Some scars would never truly heal, not when they were inflicted on the mind. And the great white beast haunted Xris every time she blinked. She tried to ignore it, but to no avail. It was always there, watching, waiting. Anticipating her moment of weakness to then strike, strike, strike -

"Xristina."

It was Jon, standing in the med-bay entrance, his hand wrapped in bandages.

"Stuart's nephew." she said.

Jon frowned. "You too? I thought... - is it so hard to say my name?"

Xris didn't want to look at him. Her training had come back to her in a rush. It felt good to have its guide in this, the most confusing time in her life. For the thoughts she had - the word treason would not do justice to their vileness. Her and Otho had accomplished something the Reapers had sought for centuries. And now, she had to see it through. No distractions permitted.

Control your impulses - or perish.

"We will be landing soon, child." Xris said, appearing occupied. "I thought you'd be glad to be rid of the dreaded wide hats."

Jon said nothing. Merely nodded his head as if he was expecting no other answer. The moment he left, Xris regretted it. For now she was alone with the beast once more. She had to move.

"Master."

Otho was over a table on the bridge, the beast's flesh a top a piece of parchment filled with writing Xris did not understand. Strangely, she didn't feel anything upon seeing a piece of her nightmare's heart.

"I would hazard a guess, you will not be calling me that after we are done on Sillburn." Otho uttered a word, and tiny white flames engulfed the flesh. They burned with no heat.

"I... I see it, master. At the corner of my eye. Following me..."

Otho nodded, looking into her eyes. "I know, child." And his eyes told her more than the capacity of any words.

"You... see it too. But..." Understanding dawned on her like the great, white sun. "H-how many? How many chase you? And how do you -"

"Stay sane? I do not. I accept my lot. I must. This -" He pointed to the contents on the table. "Is bigger than any of us." And the fire stopped burning.

Otho wrapped the parchment around the piece of flesh whispering another word. Nothing happened as far as Xris could see. Otho placed the thing in his pouch. Xris noticed he was wearing the same outfit the last time they were on Sillburn - an eternity ago.

"Get ready."

"Yes.. master."

The three of them stood in the transport room, Sillburn in glorious, encompassing display in front of them. The room was tall and cylindrical - round, glowing plates pulsing at their feet. Soon, Jon felt the vibrations coursing through his veins. He blinked, and the planet was replaced with a city. A city shrouded in darkness. His city - Zerxes.

"What has happened here?" Jon gasped. "Where are the lights?"

They were standing on the city walls, the once vibrant and gaudy city now dreary and dull. The lights were gone, along with the crowds that flocked among them. The shutters were down, leaving only barks and squeals to fill the air.

"It's dead..." Jon managed a whimper.

"This Stuart thinks himself smart." Otho smiled. The expression terrified not only Jon, but the apprentice as well. "It is not dead, boy. Not yet."

Before Jon could ask what Otho meant, he was gone. Xris flinched as if afraid of something, but it lasted for but a moment.

"Are you alright?"

She studied him. "You have a good heart, Stuart's nephew."

Jon pierced his lips. "Something terrible is about to happen, isn't it?"

Her lip trembled - again, for but a moment. It was with a stern expression that she took his hand and nodded. "We promised to return you safe. We've kept that promise."

"But -"

"I have to control my impulses..." A whisper, a plea.

"What was that?"

When Jon next blinked he found himself and Xris in front of some ancient shrine. No. Not just any shrine... his family's shrine. It was so dark that Jon didn't recognize it. Every time he'd been here before it was a place of celebration and joy, light and life. It looked like a different place now. Spoiled.

Something else caught his attention... sounds... all around them were sounds... gurgles? What was happening? It was so dark that -

Light, sudden and horrifying, came from a device in Otho's hand. It showed the once decorated shrine defecated with bodies. Dead or dying.

They lay scattered around them, most in a supposed position of cover. They were preparing themselves to fight - their own truth forgotten. For when truth becomes legend, its validity wanes.

And mere mortals cannot challenge a Reaper.

Jon croaked a childish, "Uncle!" at the sightless eyes of the Stuart of Zerxes. He turned on Otho, his voice venom. "Banished cur! What have you done?"

Otho, still smiling, cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? The fire-ant bites, does it?" His eyebrows lowered mockingly, yet his smile remained. Xris could barely recognize her once calm and composed master.

What she failed to understand was the fate of a tortured soul faced with its deliverance.

Xris used her training to examine the faces of the bodies, of her master, of Jon... red, and puffy, and sincere. She knew her place was that of an observer here, and yet...

Otho placed the parchment enchanted with the flesh of the beast's heart in the Shrine's center. "Bear witness, boy!" His voice boomed, confident and free. "After this day, the banished shall be no more!"

Lines of bright light started to trail from the parchment, spreading like fireflies through the shrine towards infinity.

"You will always be banished!" Jon cried, his face a mask of snot and tears and defiance.

Otho's smile showed teeth. "How can the damned banish anyone? The dead have no say in the matters of the Gods!"

Otho threw his hat. It streaked with impossible speed towards Jon's head. He would've been dead before he saw the throw commence, if not for Xris's hand, catching the hat in front of Jon's face.

The boy fell, dumbfounded. Dizzy. What was going on? The lines on the ground only continued to grow and stretch. When Jon focused on them, his eyes hurt - the same as when they were escaping the expanding whiteness. He raised his eyes to find Xris facing Otho, his hat in her hands.

"Xristina..." Otho's voice was incredulous as his smile finally fell.

"No, master." Xris knew she had moments of opportunity. She struck Otho with all her might. Jamming her hand into his chest. Grabbing his heart from the inside. She knew, as long as it was intact, he would dream and come back.

He gaped at her, his life in her hands, his calculations fatally false. "You!" He started, but a small squeeze from Xris dampened his tone.

He changed it to vitriol, hissing through his teeth.

"You would forsake your own?"

"If I do nothing - I would forsake myself."

Xris felt her hand squeeze. Just once. But enough.

She stepped back, the body of her once-master falling to the ground. Comprehension hit her harder than any blow. "M-master?" She wailed, suddenly running to him, cradling him, caressing him. "Master, I'm sorry! Oh, Mother... what have I done? What have I done?"

Jon put a hand on her shoulder. "It's over, little one. Come. Let us -"

"You haven't the slightest comprehension of the damage I've done!" She turned on Jon, the body of her once-master hitting the floor with a decisive thud.

Jon stepped back with utter fear. "I - I -"

Xris turned, her mind working in ways only a Reaper would understand. As she picked up the parchment with the beast's flesh the infinite lines retracted back to nothingness. She put her heritage to the side, it would not be destroyed by her.

Oh, Holy Mother, what has she done?

"I have done nothing, you understand? Nothing!" Every pore on her itched and every hair on her body pierced her skin. "You think me a hero? Ha! They will come! I have doomed myself and my cause!"

"Your cause? It didn't sound like it was your cause." Jon said.

Xris fled from his gaze. "You think yourself so smart... we'll experience agony unlike anything, anyone has ever felt. We -"

Xris stopped at Jon's soothing embrace. His hands felt... right. She let him hold her, if for a moment. She needed it.

"They will come..." Xris whispered.

"And we'll be ready." Jon retorted.

They wouldn't. And Xris knew this but said nothing. How could she?

They sat there, in a shrine older than their comprehension. A place fated to bare witness to the making, and unmaking, of Gods.

Waiting for the end to come.

But not yet.

Not yet.

🔵 | ⏪ PART 01 ⏪ | ⏪ PART 02 ⏪ | ⏸ | 🔵

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