There, Adagium. Good monster.
Marianne smirked. Her voice was so loud, though it was barely above a whisper. It was a knife cutting through the intense black, leaving it frail and tattered, fall to nothingness. He took a step back from Hell. Marianne was Hell.
And the black was becoming white…then red. So cold. So…sharp. Was he bleeding? Yes, it was the day of his end; of eternity, the peace he'd lost. Frigid rain, red snow blossoming, swallowing up the ground at his feet at he took another step back. The marks across his body were burning. No peace, no light. She stood there, smirk growing, eyes burning. Burning his skin and melting his bones like the seals that bound him.
In the bloodied snows he saw himself. He turned his head away, wrapped his arms tighter; the shivering wouldn't stop.
Friends? Ridiculous. You'll never know that kind of peace, Adagium. Come. Stand at your true Master's side.
Reiem felt his body burn again, the ferocity of the heat clashing hard with the sharp cold that sent him quivering to his knees. His mind screamed; his skin boiled; his soul shivered. He'd have to give in to Hell, quickly, before he fell in too deep.
"Reiem?"
"Help me," he gasped. He didn't know where he was anymore. In the black abyss with Marianne? In the bloodied snows taking his final breath? In the tower with Charlie and Griff? "I can't leave… Not until…Master…"
Marianne's face appeared before his. Reiem was so close to Hell; he would only have to stretch out his arm to beg for the pain to stop; for him to be released from his burden, but he didn't. It would only take a single, swift motion.
And the pain. It would end…wouldn't it?
"Reiem!"
The face before him flashed to another, to one much kinder. Miss Charlotte. She knelt in the bloodied snows. And she looked pained. She felt the same pain. His pain.
"What's wrong? C'mon, Reiem, look at me," she said.
He reached out his hand, grasping at the darkness past Charlie; reaching to beg to Marianne.
"I can't…" Reiem started but couldn't finish. The snow was fading, the flames dying. His dark eyes searched hers.
Don't be afraid. Give in.
"I…"
"Focus on me, Reiem… Please!"
Immediately, he felt the cold disappear. The burning in his core was gone. The redness faded first, then the blue and black until he saw the sky.
Twilight sky. Early evening…or was it dawn? The world was so quiet. Why was the world so quiet? And he was laying down on the ground, staring at the violet fire sky, and there was no Marianne, no darkness.
Charlie's hand found his.
"Are you alright?"
Reiem turned his head and looked at her. She was sitting beside him, looking down at him.
"I saw Master," he said, barely recognizing his own voice for how hoarse it was. He wondered if he'd been shouting all that time—give in to her—let it be over—just obey Master—
Charlie didn't say anything. Reiem barely felt his heart now. It was like he was succumbing to the long sleep all over again.
"Why did I wake up?" Reiem wondered, turning his eyes toward the sky again. "Why?"
"I'm…I'm so sorry," she whispered.
But how could she apologize? He was a monster, something undeserving of praise or apology. A drone… His dream of peace was but an illusion; there was no peace to be had. Bound to service, for all of time.
Reiem closed his eyes and felt something hot roll down his cheeks.
My freedom…since when? If this pain is what awaits me, then let me return; let me drown in blissful darkness.
‡ † ‡
"Reiem, can you hear me?"
I can hear you, he wanted to say, but his voice wouldn't come out. Forgive me, he wanted to say, but all that came was silence.
"Forgive me, Master…"
"Please, Reiem… Stop it. You've done nothing wrong."
"Done nothing wrong? I'm a monster…"
"According to who? I'm certainly not afraid. But just promise me something."
"Yes, Miss Charlotte…"
"…please care for yourself, okay? I remember…"
The scene changed; no, they were there all along. It was only that Reiem noticed it now, like he finally opened his eyes. He saw her, too. They were standing in a forest, thick canopy coloring the filtered sunrays a deep green. Trapped within a dream.
"Deepwood?" Reiem asked.
"Oh, so that's what it's called? Grandma's journals mentioned a place hidden in the Secret Woods. She described it like something from a dream."
Reiem snorted. "'Nightmare' is a name more befitting."
"Only the Guardian and her protector can enter, right?" She smiled at him. "Guess that means us. I think I'll be okay. You'll be with me when the time comes, right?"
"Miss Charlotte?"
She stood, and Reiem tried to do the same, but the ground fell out from beneath him. Charlie, and the brilliant light of Deepwood, disappeared as he fell deeper and deeper, swallowed once more by frigid, writhing shadow.
Charlotte, help me, he tried to say, but his voice was gone again.
Always a monster…
"I'll protect you if you can't do it."
Just give in…
‡ † ‡
Reiem blinked a few times to adjust the faint light. He wanted so very badly to simply close his eyes and return to blissful darkness. He wasn't woken from a nightmare; but had woken into one. Soon the swirling ceiling came to a standstill. The ceiling fan, the faded floral patterns on the edges of the wall, the pale blue curtains… They were all familiar. A room in Master's home?
Reiem hung onto this like it was the most important thing to find out. He squeezed his eyes shut. How long ago was it that he'd last been in here? Nine years… His eyes snapped open.
"You looked like you were having a nightmare, dude," a voice said, the same some as before. Reiem turned his head, feeling his neck move stiffly, and found Griff leaning against the wall and peering into his face like he was observing some mildly fascinating phenomenon. "You feeling okay?"
"I will manage," he finally said.
"Well—how do you feel?"
He didn't know. He had no feelings; he was all out of feelings. More like they'd been forced out of him and locked away; it wasn't a novel symptom, but it disturbed him a little, nonetheless. Wait, there was a feeling.
"Disturbed," he said.
"Uh, I guess that's something," Griff seemed to want to chuckle, but gave up the effort. He instead lifted a bag in his hands. "Dad's the only one with your build, so he's letting you borrow some of his clothes for now. Your stuff is all…kinda motheaten."
"Clothes?" This seemed to spark something in his chest. He tried to hold onto it.
"Yeah, you didn't really have much aside from what you're wearing."
Reiem sat up, slowly. He wasn't under a blanket, or anything like it, but it felt like the whole of time and history—and what was left of his sanity (he remembered Hell)—was pressing down on him. Still he sat up, fighting the urge to flop back down again. It was very important that he sat up. It was very important—he couldn't remember—Master—gone—something…
"Miss Charlotte," he said, suddenly remembering. "What happened? Where is she?"
"Not sure what happened, but she's cool. She's downstairs with Iggy."
Reiem watched Griff ramble on about something—leftover pizza? A shower?—and felt a vague wonder at how easily the young man seemed to feel comfortable around him. This was wrong. Everything was so wrong.
"You should go to her," Reiem heard himself say. He waited for the boy to act, but he didn't. He wished he could tell him that something was just so wrong, but he didn't. He couldn't. Instead, Griff walked up and put a hand to his forehead.
"Man, you're burning up. You feeling okay?"
Reiem started to shake his head, but paused. "I…perhaps. I don't know. I need to think." His head was throbbing again.
"A nice, hot shower always helps m
e," Griff urged, trying to keep his voice calm. "Go take one and catch up with us when you're ready, okay?"
"No," Reiem shook his head. His breath was hot, burning, dry.
"Whaddaya mean?"
"I can't be here. I might… I will lose it again. If Master comes near me," Reiem said, trying to blink away the cold. He didn't understand. Marianne was dead, her grip over him gone. "I don't have a choice. I didn't have a choice. I had to—it was so cold," he said, almost to himself.
"Damn, dude," Griff whispered. Reiem watched him grab a chair, push it next to the bed and collapse down onto it, the floorboards screaming. It was too loud; cut into his head. Griff grimaced slightly. "I don't know what you've been through, but…it's just me and Charlie here right now. She's safe, and I'll kick anyone's ass if they try to hurt my girl. You'll protect her, too, won't you?"
Reiem nodded; his head was heavy, and somewhere in his peripheral vision, Griff looked like he wanted to leave. But he didn't. He leaned down and picked up the bag from the floor.
He's kind like his father, Reiem thought absently.
"Charlie's home, and she needs help. Yeah, I don't have a clue how to help, but I'm not letting her do this alone," Griff said.
Reiem turned, already knowing his voice, already knowing his expression—quiet determination, a hint of desperation.
"Griff…" His voice came out sounding weak, broken, which wasn't surprising, but he despised it nonetheless. "Something is wrong. Very wrong. Slept for…nine years? What…what happened to me?" He felt, with a rising panic, that he was going to lose it if he left this room and faced Charlie. He was going to say something irreversible. But he couldn't stop it now. His voice came tumbling out. "I feel as though I've forgotten something important. Something…perhaps because I wanted to forget? Someone…did something to me. She—"
"She isn't here." Griff interrupted, still in that friendly, gentle and familiar voice, pushing himself to his feet. "What are you gonna do, anyway? Keep reliving the past for all eternity?"
Reiem looked at him. All he could do was relive the past—the nightmares, frozen pain, the fire… He realized then what was wrong: It was…peaceful. This room, this home. It was quiet, calm…at peace. How long ago had he forgotten that feeling?
"You'll get back into the swing of things, I know you will," Griff said, laughed, with a kindly glint in his eyes. He looked like he was tired, and gently patted Reiem's shoulder as though in support. "Take your time, big guy."
Reiem didn't understand just what he had awoken into. Griff dropped his hand, gave him one more grin—an honest expression of friendliness—and walked through the door. He closed it behind him but it didn't stay closed, the old door, and creaked open again a little bit. No one ever closed it properly…
He couldn't remember how long he'd stayed that way. The heat was disappearing, slowly at first and then abruptly it was gone. It he had ever had a fever, it had been trampled on by his immortal immune system.
What will you do? a low voice asked from behind him—no, inside him. Reiem didn't care who said it, but it didn't matter. He answered aloud without looking around.
"Do I have a choice?"
There is no one to tell you 'no'.
Reiem didn't say anything. He dragged his legs across the bed sheet, listening for the faint voices in the room below. He knew he was stalling, trying to figure out the hurt and old fears, but Charlie was Master now. And Charlie was kind.
He stepped down on the floor, stood up with legs that shaking a little, and grabbed up the bag left by Griff.
III
Charlie had emerged from the shower feeling drained, but that was a good thing sometimes. She didn't have the emotional energy to be upset or scared right now, so the only thing she could do was breathe.
Determined to at least have a normal dinner, she put a little extra effort into cleaning the kitchen and setting the table. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and dug into the cabinets for plates. Ignis jumped from the couch to help, keeping silent as he took whatever he was handed and set off. A stack of pizzas sat on the counter, cooling as the moments ticked by.
The evening's events replayed yet again in Charlie's mind.
Seeing Reiem collapse for the second time cemented the idea that, perhaps, it really was a bad idea to have woken him up. Charlie wasted no time in screaming for help, and Griff called both his dad and Ignis. They arrived quick and asked no questions when Charlie instructed them to help Reiem to the house. Looking to him now, Charlie couldn’t help but feel small under his pale gaze.
She let her gaze drop to the floor as she handed some cups to him, and there was a long silence before Ignis's voice cut into her mind.
"Couldn't you guys have called me or something before just barging in there? I mean…what were you even thinking? You could've gotten hurt."
She looked up at him, eyes wide with shock. "Excuse me?"
Ignis paused, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I mean, the last time you even saw the guy he was slaughtering some fucked up shadow monsters, your dad died, and then he…he…" He screwed his face up, flashes of anger and fear crossing his pale features. "I can't believe you'd just go and wake him up."
Charlie ran her hand through her hair, balling it up in her fist with frustration. Why did the astrals seem to hate her? Nothing she did was met with approval. She'd lost one of the orchard's biggest plots to a freak thunderstorm. She didn't know her ass from a hole in the ground when it came to taking on the family job. And now she'd practically made a fool of herself in front of the only people in town that seemed to actually care about her. How in the hell could she be the last of this all-important and ancient bloodline?
She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "No choice. Everyone else is dead, and I'm all that's left. So yeah, I didn't have a choice, Ignis."
He stared at her, expression inscrutable, so she barreled on, not stopping to think if she was doing the right thing or not…or if Ignis was the right person to vent to. She just needed to get it all out.
"I know you remember that night. The shadows, the soldiers, all those people that died. Guess what! They're still here, in the mines, and Astrals know where else. And I'm the only person left that can keep them at bay. I don't know how to swing a sword or use magic or even what they're called or what's keeping them from swarming us all again right now, and that shit fucking terrifies me. And the only way I can learn—" She jabbed her finger towards the staircase. "—is that man up there."
Charlie watched desperately as Ignis processed everything she had told him, letting the truth of her fear show in her eyes. She had no idea if he was still as good as reading her now as he was when they were kids, or if he even cared at all to think it over…but she hoped to whatever was listening that he was. He had to know she wasn't lying. He had to believe her.
Ignis clenched his fists.
"I don't care about your training, Charlie! I care about you!"
She felt her stomach drop into her feet. Looking down to hide the frustrated tears that pricked the corners of her eyes, she walked away from him and into the pantry. She didn’t even acknowledge Griff as he descended the staircase, nor did she care that he grabbed Ignis and hauled him out of the kitchen.
"How can you be such an asshole right now?" Griff hissed. It did little to keep his anger from carrying out of the living room. "Charlie's inherited her family's job, and she needs our support!"
"I'm not being an asshole. I'm being realistic. Look around, Griff! She's gonna get herself killed!"
Griff snorted. "You look about as supportive as Bolin when Masae came out of the closet."
Ignis narrowed his eyes. "I support Masae," he stated firmly. "And I do support Charlie. There's just one little problem I think you're forgetting." Griff looked at him expectantly and he frowned, like he couldn't believe he had to state the obvious. "Uh, that guy's a fucking monster?"
They stood in silence for a long while, each lost in their own boiling anger. Despite how hard he
r heart thumped against her ribcage, something told Charlie to keep quiet and listen. She didn’t know just how long this confrontation had been building up, and while she'd rather it not happen now—or even at all—she kept her silence.
Griff suddenly balled his fists. "You know, you really need to get your shit together, Ignis."
"Me? I'm sorry, but it's not me that needs the head check." He pulled out his phone, pretending to scroll through it.
"Yeah, you really do," Griff argued. "So, I'm just going to lay it all out for you, because you've been a fucking dick ever since you found out Charlie was coming home."
That got his attention back. Ignis lifted his gaze to meet Griff's, anger reignited in his eyes. "Great. Tell all about how I'm supposed to worship the ground Charlie walks on despite the fact she fucking up and left us nine years ago. Or maybe how you're so fucking stuck up her ass that you can't stop talking about how excited you are to have her home?"
"That right there. That is you being an unsupportive dick! You're so caught up in 'oh woe is me poor Iggy all alone' that you don't see how you're hurting someone who didn't even do anything to you," Griff said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You think her leaving didn't hurt me? Or Dad or Masae or your own fucking mom? Because it did! That night fucked us all up, Ignis! Charlie lost her fucking dad, had to leave the only place she'd ever called home, and all you can do is play the fucking victim because you lost your best friend!"
"Oh well, excuse the fuck out of me! I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to feel shitty for someone I had feelings for going through the worst possible night of her life!" Ignis snapped back, the dullness in his eyes finally giving way to a spark of anger.
"Don't be fucking stupid, dude. You can feel shitty sometimes. But you don't feel shitty sometimes—you feel shitty all the time, and then you go and push it off on the one person you shouldn't feel shitty about. You trade out all the good in your life for bullshit mediocrity and then use it to feed this inferiority complex you have."
The Silence Between Page 12