The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  He seemed confused by her response but said nothing. She breathed him in; the feel of his hands on her. The look of him: happy. She rarely saw Kazuaki in such a state since she met him. Her head turned to soak in the place that the gods had made to trap her. This small slice of perfection. They did a terrifyingly stunning job. As much as she wanted this fantasy to be her reality, it wasn’t.

  They were broken, the two of them. They fell apart together. One-handed, one-eyed, scarred physically, emotionally, and every place in between. Every knife wound and bullet hole was a memory that didn’t exist in this place. She wasn’t willing to make that trade-off. Bermuda preferred to be perfectly imperfect, an incomplete person who found another incomplete person ... not necessarily to fill in the pieces they were missing, but to feel understood and accepted in knowing they weren’t alone.

  She placed her hand on his and squeezed. She hoped the others made it. With a final inhale to savor the scent of the sea, Bermuda honed her focus. Though it was one of the more painful endeavors she ever faced, she left her paradise behind and returned to her body that waited in the forest of Nenada.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Penn glanced down at his pocket watch, a simple thing, made of simple materials. Nothing fancy. He only needed it to tell the time. A crowd gathered around the building behind him, and when the doors opened, they started flooding inside. The excitement was tangible. Plays were a wonderful distraction from reality. It was this very reason that he met his parents here every Sunday to take in the matinee show.

  They were right on time, as they always were. His mother’s hat was the first thing he looked for. Penn could always spot the soft, white feathers bobbing up and down as she took her tiny steps in the fancy shoes she constantly wore to Sunday plays. The way she took her strides said the footwear was uncomfortable, but she was not afforded many opportunities to dress up. She delighted in it whenever she had an excuse to, whether or not it was convenient.

  The two approached, his mother’s arm weaved into his father’s, as they joined him on the walkway outside the playhouse. “We didn’t miss it yet, did we?” Though they were never late, Penn’s mother always feared she missed the first several minutes of the show.

  “You’re good, mum,” Penn smirked before he turned to his father, a well-dressed man in a suit his wife made him wear. Penn knew the elder Elmbroke preferred the feel of loose-fitting clothes to the shackles of the one luxurious suit he owned. Only well-trained eyes could spy the various stitches and patchwork that had been performed on the outfit. It was much more economical to repair good things than to buy new ones.

  “What’s this one about, then?” Penn’s father turned to the playhouse and adjusted the glasses on his nose.

  “It’s a recreation of an archaic tale, I believe,” his mother replied as she rifled through her shoulder bag to find the clipping she removed from the newspaper. “A man travels through various parts of the Underworld to find and save the love of his life.”

  Penn’s father chuckled and shook his head. “That’s a fantasy for you,” he said, as he ushered his wife and Penn into the building. “Everyone knows nobody comes back from the dead.”

  The elder Elmbroke’s opened the door, stopping and turning when they realized their son did not follow them. He was stuck in his place, staring at them with a look that was both love and crippling realization.

  Mr. Elmbroke arched a brow. “You all right, son? I know the premise sounds ridiculous, but it’ll still be good fun.”

  Umbriel’s words ran through his mind. He tried to hold tightly to them, out of fear he might lose them again. It was incredible how easy it was to misplace her caution. Penn lifted his eyes from the ground and found his father’s gaze. “Yeah, I’m ... I’m okay,” he said.

  His words seemed sincere, but Penn’s eyes held a sadness his mother couldn’t ignore. “You can’t lie to your mother, dear. What’s wrong?”

  Penn had to look back at the ground. It was easier than looking at the confusion in his mother’s face. “I have to go back.”

  “Home?” she asked. “You’ll miss the show, dear. Why is it you need to go back? Did you forget something?”

  “No, I ...” Penn grinned despite his grief. He still couldn’t bear to look at her. But it was nice, hearing her voice. “I have to go back because you’re just figments of my imagination.”

  The Elmbroke’s drew their heads back, aghast at his accusation. Mr. Elmbroke tilted his head, concerned. “Are you sure you’re all right, son?”

  “I assure you, dear, we’re quite real,” Mrs. Elmbroke added with a faint chuckle, unsure if her son was making a joke she did not understand.

  “No,” Penn sighed, honing in on a speck of dirt on the walkway outside the playhouse. It was amazing how much detail the gods threw into his fantasy. Even down to a speck of dirt. “You’re not.”

  Mr. Elmbroke’s brows furrowed on his face. His mustache scrunched up into his nostrils. “What makes you say that, my boy?”

  Penn smiled at the speck of dirt. “Because. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. Simple get-togethers and shitty Sunday plays that nobody really wants to see. Nothing special. Just the company of each other. This is how I always pictured it. Word for word. The perfect recreation of my happiness.”

  “My dear,” Mrs. Elmbroke approached him, placing a hand on his forehead to see if he felt hot, “you’re not making any sense. This is life.”

  “Nah.” Penn closed his eyes. Her hand on his forehead, it felt real. It was strange since he didn’t remember what his mother’s hand felt like. He was much too young when she passed. But if he ever had to envision it for himself, and he had, this was exactly what it would’ve felt like. He wanted to reach out and hug her, to experience what that might have felt like, too, but he knew if he did, he would never leave. “Life is never this perfect.”

  “Son, do you need to see a doctor?” Mrs. Elmbroke tried to find his gaze, but he avoided it.

  By now, Mr. Elmbroke approached as well, standing alongside his wife. “We can take you to Dr. Harner, he’s right down the road.”

  It was funny. He knew he never heard that name before in his life, but he still remembered every visit he ever had in Dr. Harner’s office. His will to leave weakened. He had to go before it vanished altogether. “It was good to see you both. I would’ve liked to see the play, but ...” His mouth shifted into a sad grin. “ ...if I walk through the doors, I know I won’t come back out.”

  Mrs. Elmbroke’s voice broke. She sounded scared. “Son?”

  “Love you, mum. Love you, dad. Next time I see you,” he said, “I’ll stay longer.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The first thing Umbriel heard was the sound of running water. A stream. She opened her eyes and light flooded her vision, temporarily blinding her of her surroundings. It took several blinks before shapes became discernible. Even still, it looked as though she were in an unfocused land. Every object wavered in structure as if distorted by a constant-moving wave.

  She didn’t see anyone when she first looked around. It brought her sorrow, but not surprise. Arriving at the Unnamed took an incredible amount of mental focus and self-assuredness.

  “’Ello, love.”

  Umbriel’s skeleton nearly leaped out of its skin prison at the sound of Brack’s voice. She spun in fright, a hand on her chest to steady the rapid beating inside it. “Brack!” she announced, a sigh of relief following. She delighted that she was not alone, but couldn’t hide her disbelief. “I ... I ...”

  “—took a while, but you made it. No worries, I wasn’t waiting long.”

  She forced a smile, smoothing out her hair. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, exchanging incredulity for relief. They stood at a fork in a river. Both directions seemed to span beyond their eyesight. “We’ve made it halfway. We must—”

  “—follow the river to the ocean, I know.” Brack pushed himself off from the tree he leaned against and stretched his arms over his head, yawning.
“Which fork you want to chance, m’lady?”

  Umbriel blinked. It was not often she found herself at a loss for words, but Brack’s lackadaisical self-assuredness met her with unexpected vigor. The Earth Mother tried to leave the feeling behind her, but for the half of her that shared godly blood, the other half of her remained human, and her curiosity burned. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I heard it changes all the time.”

  “I’d venture a guess that so long as you believe you’ll get there,” he started, choosing the one on the left and striding down the embankment with confidence, “you’ll get there.”

  Umbriel smiled. She followed after him, the world around them rippling from the ground to the sky. “You seem poised here, Brack. Care to share your secret?”

  “No secrets between friends, love.” Brack smirked, squinting his eyes to try and see better through the out-of-focus world. They had only walked a short while, but when he looked behind him, they had traveled miles from their starting point. He directed his attention back around and nodded with a laugh. “There we are.”

  Umbriel followed the finger Brack lifted, to see a large figure sitting at the base of what she thought was a tree. It was hard to tell, as she could focus on neither. They rippled, like objects held deep beneath the water. It was easy to make out a shape, but details, fine points, the specifics of what she looked at, lived in a constant blur of fluid motion. “The Unnamed,” she breathed, taking a step forward. “You’re here.”

  If the being had a face or a facial expression, neither traveler saw it through the distortion. Its voice rattled their lungs, a powerful reverberation that seemed to rise from the ground they stood on. “I am here because you came looking for me ... and there is nowhere I cannot be.”

  Brack grinned, clapped his hands, and shook his head, amused. “Cryptic. I love it.”

  Upon realizing she showed no signs of respect, Umbriel quickly took to a knee and bowed her head. Her silver hair spilled around her shoulders and touched the ground. “Thank you for allowing us the honor of your presence. I am certain you know why we’ve come.”

  “Yes,” It said. “I do.”

  “Panagea needs your help.” Umbriel lifted her head to take in the unfocused being. “The lesser gods are ravaging her people. Men and women are being manipulated into behaviors they only briefly entertain the thought of. It is chaos.”

  “Yes,” It said. “It is.”

  Umbriel bit her bottom lip. “I know you created Life. I hoped you would take action against those who tried to destroy it.”

  The Unnamed said nothing. It shifted slightly but otherwise did not move.

  “Oi, you hear us, mate?” Brack arched a brow, crossing his arms. “Don’t want to rush you, but we’re in a bit of a time crunch here.”

  “You want me to stop the lesser gods from manipulating men,” It said.

  Brack shrugged. “I mean, that would be a hell of a start, yeah.”

  “The lesser gods came to me with a similar plea hundreds of years ago. They begged me to remind mankind how much they loved them. They feared the aftermath of being forgotten.”

  Umbriel winced. The history of the lesser gods was not a pleasant one. If they sought help from the Unnamed all those years ago, they clearly did not receive it. “You ... you will help mankind, won’t you?” she asked, already fearing Its reply.

  “I could help,” the Unnamed replied. “But not unlike the syringes mankind used to combat hypoxia, the intrusion only keeps the ailments from crippling the body. The syringes ... my interference ... they combat the symptoms, but do not cure the disease.”

  Brack scratched at the mutton chops that grew on the sides of his face as he raised a brow. “So, that’s a no, then?”

  “Please,” Umbriel laced her fingers together. “So many lives have been lost already.”

  “Yes,” the Unnamed replied. Umbriel thought she detected a hint of pity, but she couldn’t be sure if it was there, or if she only wanted to believe it was there. “I know.”

  “Well, shit,” Brack rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time since Umbriel met him, he wore no visible signs of enjoyment. “That’s a bit irresponsible, isn’t it? I mean, why create something if you only plan to let it die?”

  “I made no plans for mankind. I only made them to live.”

  “And I’m not saying I lack gratitude for the whole creation thing,” Brack said, holding out his hands to defend himself. “I’m only saying it’s a wee bit cruel to allow such a colossal difference of power to exist, don’t you think? How the hell are we supposed to fight gods?”

  A noise emanated from the Unnamed. Almost a sound of consideration, though not quite. “When I created human beings, they were all birthed from the same materials. Skin. Bones. Tendons. Veins. Blood. Atoms. You are all crafted from the same recipe. You were all equal until you decided you were not. You created the division of powers. Just as you created the lesser gods.”

  Brack winced under the weight of the Unnamed’s response. For once, the Rabbit was rendered silent.

  Clutching one hand to her chest, Umbriel got back up to her feet. “I don’t understand. You interfered once. You punished Mimir, you shackled him to the well for his sins against mankind. The lesser gods are harming men, is this not the same?”

  The light around the Unnamed continued to ripple. “Mimir interfered with mankind’s free will. Life is a series of decisions and choices. These are not meant to be taken away.”

  “But life is?” Umbriel asked, trying desperately to understand. “They’re making men and women destroy each other!”

  “The lesser gods only exaggerate thoughts mankind already harbors within themselves,” the Unnamed replied calmly. “If they had no violent thoughts to aggrandize, the lesser gods’ influence would be useless. You wish to punish the lesser gods, but the crime belongs to mankind.”

  Umbriel’s eyelids fell to a close. From the depths of her heart, she fought to understand the Unnamed’s detachment, but could not. “These people are born of you,” she uttered, her voice cracking. “How can you not want peace for them?”

  The Unnamed paused. “It is all I have ever wanted for them,” It finally said. “But there are not enough of them who want it for themselves.”

  The Earth Mother stood, defeated. The Unnamed would lend no assistance. Her suggestion had only served as a hazardous disaster. She hung her head, hoping the others did not suffer because of her proposal.

  Brack walked over to Umbriel and gently took her arm. “Come on, love. It is what it is. We got ourselves into this mess, we can get ourselves out of it.”

  She peeled her eyelids open, her lips pursed as she looked at Brack. Unshed tears of desperation glazed her pupils like glass. The people of Panagea were running out of time. Umbriel couldn’t help but feel a thread of responsibility, having hoped to invite the lesser gods back into their lives all along. Her purpose was to protect Panagea. To uphold the Earth Mother’s code. To stand for everything her sisterhood died for, by reintroducing more Earth Mother’s back into Panagea. But all she gained for her efforts was failure. “I don’t know what else we can do,” she whispered.

  “Oi, chin up, lady.” Brack smirked and pretended to gently punch her shoulder. “Panagea coexisted with those lesser gods once. How’s about we give round two a go before we reduce ourselves to tears, aye?”

  His confidence brought a smile to her face. Umbriel took a deep breath and wiped at her damp lashes with the back of her wrist. “Of course, Brack. Where would I be without your unwavering assurance?”

  “Nowhere I’d wanna be,” the man said with a laugh. He turned to the Unnamed and saluted It. “Right-o, mate. Sorry results, but it was a pleasure nonetheless, I’m sure.”

  “Yes,” the Unnamed replied, steady in Its tone. “It was.”

  Brack turned back to Umbriel and extended an arm. “Right. That’s that, then. What do you say we get out of here and go figure out how to solve this little problem, eh?”

>   Umbriel tucked her arm into his and nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Kazuaki wondered if this was the afterlife. It felt like it. At least, what he imagined the afterlife would feel like. It was dark. For some reason, he expected it to be. Kazuaki doubted the light of the sun reached the afterlife. But there were stars above him. How stars could reach the afterlife but the sun could not was beyond him.

  It didn’t matter much. He felt too at ease to care whether or not things made sense. He simply laid in his strange, out-of-place hammock, hanging between two trees, in the middle of nowhere, with only a giant, black sky above him.

  It was silent. A treat for the weary soul who had traveled through one too many lifetimes. A complete, unadulterated instant of genuine peace. He closed his eyes and reveled in it, pleased to have found utopia after many years of searching.

  The moment lasted an eternity. But eternities were apparently very short in the afterlife. His brows came down over his closed eyes. Something in this piece of perfection was missing. It gnawed at his skull. He couldn’t remember until it gnawed at his heart instead.

  Kazuaki shot up out of the hammock.

  This place wasn’t paradise. It was one component short. He checked his surroundings. It felt like she was here. The selfish part of him wished she was, but the part of him that loved her ... if this was, indeed, the afterlife, hoped she didn’t arrive prematurely.

  As if the environment bent to his every whim and desire, he saw her on the horizon. Bermuda. A vision even at a distance, standing confidently on a boulder facing the ocean. Her back was to him, but he knew it was her.

  Kazuaki swung his legs out of the hammock and started to walk toward her. She must have sensed him coming. Bermuda turned and flashed one of her cocky smirks in his direction. It beckoned Kazuaki with its charismatic allure. He found himself grinning as he closed the distance between her, an honest expression of serenity.