The Silence Between

by Lara P. Ambrose

  "Charlie, what…"

  "What's the point, Griff?" Her voice was hard and bitter in a way he had never heard from her before. "Why is this happening? What am I supposed to do…?"

  "Can't you just…keep doing your thing? Who cares if you're not an Elburn or whoever?"

  "You know, I was actually starting to think I was getting the hang of things. I was going to start…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "What a fucking idiot I was. I was just going to die anyway."

  "You are getting things, Charlie, I know you are." Griff stepped around to look her in the eyes. "And you won't die. You're going to get this shit, okay? And you're bound to Reiem, and he won't—"

  "Don't," she cut him off, voice strangled. "Don't, Griff. Please."

  ‡ † ‡

  He saw the fresh tears she had been trying to hold back well up in her eyes and pulled her close again as she lost her composure. Inside he was absolutely seething, but she didn't need his anger. She needed his comfort. So, he held her. He didn't know what to say, or if talking would even help, so he just kept holding her.

  "I wanted to do this," she sobbed into his chest. "I was so determined to do it and it hurts. It hurts so fucking much."

  "I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair, rubbing circles into her back as her tears soaked through his shirt. What else could he do? He felt so helpless.

  He glanced up to see Reiem standing in the doorway, a deep-set sorrow all his own etched into his features when he saw what was happening. He met Griff's gaze and his eyes narrowed. He stepped into the room, walking up to the pair, and when Charlie realized he was there, she let go of Griff in favor of him. She didn't care that the immortal flinched at the sudden contact before awkwardly encircling her with his arms. She just cared that he was the only person in the world right now that she felt utterly and entirely safe with. He was the only person would never let anything—or anyone—harm her. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

  Griff, on the other hand, used this opportunity to leave. Reiem had this under control, and he had somewhere else to be.

  Griff was pissed, and he was going to find Ghost.

  ‡ † ‡

  The daylight was still bright when Griff crested the northern mountain path. With it so close to dinner time there was no one was out to bother him, but he still avoided the town. He hurried past Lori's house, taking the path around the north part of the lake towards the mines. Instead of turning north towards the actual mines, he bypassed the signpost and continued east towards the quarry bridge.

  His hurried, angry steps had only just begun to thunk on the hard wood of the crossing when he heard a voice cry out behind him.

  "Griff! Griff, what are you doing!?"

  "Iggy, go back and stay with Charlie," he said. His uncharacteristically cold tone made Ignis pause, but just for a moment. He hurried up to him, stopping before him with an angry—and somewhat confused—expression on his face.

  "Why are you up here?" Ignis demanded slowly. "Why aren't you with Charlie? Did something happen—"

  "Nothing happened. Gah, look! I just…need to do something, and I need to do it alone. Just go back to the farmhouse and tell her I'll be back later."

  Griff took a step forward, but when Ignis didn't move out of the way he came to an abrupt stop. They stared at each other, almost like one was daring the other to look away when Griff exhaled loudly. He extended his left hand, palm facing Ignis, and a blaze of fire ignited against the other man's chest, forcing Ignis to jump back a few steps.

  "W-what the hell!?"

  "Go. Home," Griff growled. "Go home! Don't follow me, Iggy!"

  Griff walked forward and Ignis stepped aside, eyes wide and body trembling as he silently watched him go. Ignis's gaze petered to the mountain then down to the wooden bridge as he found himself at a loss for what to say or even do.

  ‡ † ‡

  At the end of the bridge was the small mountain quarry. Griff had no business there and took an immediate left the second he got off the bridge. Nestled behind some bushes along the side of the towering rocks was an opening. Grotesque and gnarled stones dotted the earth around the black gap. Even in the daylight they looked almost pure silver in color, but the closer Griff got those stones were all colors at once and yet none at the same time.

  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and a dark urge pushed his feet onward as he slipped through the opening.

  More of those bizarre stones cropped up along the small tunnel. After less than thirty seconds of walking he found himself in a large room. There was no hole in the ceiling for light to seep in, yet the interior was filled with a strange glow. It illuminated a hole in the room's center, as well as the shoddy, make-shift sign that bore a simple skull motif painted in black.

  He wasted no time descending the ladder. His thoughts ran a mile a minute, his head full of static and noise from the dozens of past lives he remembered in a jumble of screaming clarity.

  The way forward wasn't free of obstacles, however.

  Living spheres of gold and silver with etched faces swarmed him around the first corner and where they made contact, his flesh burned like it had been coated with the strongest acid. Griff made quick work of them, his body moving with an agility he'd practiced and practiced and practiced with each repeat. Balls of fire erupted from his hands, surrounding the creatures. As their forms shrieked and melted into a pungent vapor, he stared, wide-eyed, at the tunnel as it snaked ahead. His entire body shook.

  The closer he got to the end of that cave, the more spherical enemies and flying, ghostly faces he slew. And finally, the back of the winding labyrinth came into view and like the room above, it, too, shown with a soft, iridescent glow. There were no monsters of any sort in that room. More gnarled stones lined the curves of the inner walls, leading to another sheer wall at the back. No, wait. It wasn't a wall. It was a crystal—solid black, unbelievably smooth, and three times Griff's height, its surface clouded with a silvery haze.

  Something moved across its surface the moment he stopped before it, like a light from nowhere shifted within its smooth depths. Too irate and focused to move his gaze, Griff just stared…stared until the shifting lights coalesced into the fuzzy form of a man draped in a royal black raiment, with pale features, violet eyes, and silver-blonde hair.

  "…Griff?" The man's voice—though somewhat distorted—mirrored the confusion and uncertainty on his face. It shifted quickly to relief. "Thank the Astrals! I thought you were never going to reach out! Did it work? Did we fix things?"

  "Yeah, we did," Griff began bitterly. He shifted his stance and crossed his arms. "Except Charlie found out about her background WAY too early…and in a really fucked up way."

  "…what?" The man's whisper quickly shifted to fear. "What happened? How did she find out?"

  Griff sighed, shaking his head. "I don't think it matters, man."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't think she's going to continue to the trials."

  The man's face fell, eyes widening and mouth dropping slightly open in an expression of shock as he tried to process what he'd just heard. "But, why has…?" he finally asked. "What else has changed…?"

  "I don't know, maybe the fact Marianne might not actually be dead? Or that Simón wants to come here and see Charlie? Like, pretty much right now?"

  "But that's…not supposed to happen until the tournament—"

  "—in Airdeis," Griff cut in. "Yeah, Iggy. I know!" He grabbed his own head, ruffling his hair in aggravation. "Graaah, everything's all fucked up worse than before now! What am I supposed to do!? It's our last chance, and if I kill myself again—"

  "—it won't reset the timeline," the man—the other Ignis—finished for him in a somber tone. He fell silent, looking off to the right before turning back and staring at Griff. "I think I know what's causing it."

  "Okay?"

  "My necklace." The statement caught Griff off guard, and he just stared for a moment before the other Ignis elaborated. "When I left that ti
me and returned to my own, my necklace was gone. I wore it under my outfit, but it's nowhere to be found now. Do you remember it?"

  "Well, duh, I remember it," Griff grumbled. "Me and Charlie are the ones who made it for you. Got the ass-chewing of our lives after we were caught up near the mines finding the thing. Thirteenth birthday present, remember?"

  The other Ignis stared before laughing meekly. He shook his head. "Right, right. I forget that it's been…much longer for me."

  "Sooo, how's your necklace causing things to go all wonky here?"

  The other Ignis sighed. "From what we've learned, even the slightest thing from an alternate timeline being present in the current one can cause massive distortions in events. I'm sure you're familiar with the whole 'butterfly effect' cliché?"

  "Well, yeah. I mean, who isn't?"

  "It isn't just the necklace. When I reached into the void to pull you into the dismal future of your original timeline, chaos seeped into the world you were set to enter and altered the timeline. Just like it had done to all your other attempts."

  Griff's features screwed up in confusion before they narrowed into suspicion. "Wait, wait, wait, hang on! You mean all that shit—all those other times I tried and failed and tried again—was because of you!?"

  The other Ignis gave a slight shake of his head before sighing. Though the reflection was somewhat distorted, the guilt was plain to see on his features.

  "As much as it pains me to realize this late…yes. Time isn't just a line, Griff. It can be any number of shapes, and anyone powerful enough to touch it—to tap into it and try to change it—can send ripples up and down the entire way. I'm sorry," he finished quietly.

  "Okay," Griff groaned. "Okay. Sooo…what do I need to do to fix all this? Things were going just right until about two hours ago. Any ideas in the big, royal head of yours?"

  The other Ignis nodded. "Just one. And everything needs to be done exactly as I explain it."

  VIII

  The crickets chirped as the twilight sun washed over the old community center, exposing every cobweb and crack. Griff raised his eyes to the building he never thought he'd have to enter again. The dusty clock over the front door, the overgrown window boxes, the ivy climbing up the shutters. Even this close to summer the overgrown vegetation looked yellow, lifeless.

  Stepping closer, he hesitated. Something dark passed over the dusty window glass but the closer he got, he realized it was just his own eerie reflection in the gloom. There was so much to this building that no one else in town realized. So much anger and hatred and fear. Sure, they'd all seen it, heard about it after, but none of them went through what he did.

  It was only when he heard distant steps did he break from his trance and try the door. He knew it would be locked—no one wanted it open again after that night, and Mayor George finally closed it down for good after backlash from the whole town. But to his surprise, the handle turned easily beneath his hand. Taking a breath, Griff stepped into the quiet building.

  Inside, the suffocating memories and emotions wrapped their invisible hands around his throat. The rooms were empty, save for old, dusty furniture and rotten foodstuffs. He darted his gaze around—the cracked and dusty fish tank, the vegetation growing up from the rotten floorboards. The dark stain in front of the fireplace with a rusted dagger covered in the same dark red.

  Trembling, he picked the blade up. The blade that'd killed Charlie. As much as he wanted to throw the thing far away from him, he couldn't. It hummed in his hands, pulsing with a strange energy that felt so familiar to him. Knowing that he shouldn't just ignore something so obvious despite his own feelings telling him otherwise, Griff slipped the blade into his back pocket and stood.

  His breath caught when his phone vibrated. On the screen was a message from someone named Ren. Taking in a slow, deep breath, he read the message.

  Something's wrong.

  Please tell me you're safe

  i don't know dude…

  everything's fucked up again

  Do you need help?

  I could be there by morning.

  no i think i got it

  i'll let you know

  Be safe…

  He heard movement and felt that he wasn't alone in there anymore. Hoping that it was just his nerves getting to him, he glanced around, but his core froze when he saw the pale face, the blonde hair.

  Ignis.

  He stood just feet away on trembling legs, swaying on his feet until Griff stepped forward and grabbed his arms to steady him. Ignis looked down to the floor before the fireplace with red-rimmed eyes.

  "Iggy, what…what are you doing here? Why did you…?"

  Ignis didn't move his gaze, didn't reply at all. Griff ran a frustrated hand over his face.

  "I told you not to follow me!"

  "I know."

  "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

  "What do you want me to say!?" Ignis gave him a shove, balling his fists up tight. "Charlie's not answering me. Reiem won't let me in the house. Then you go off into the mountains and… Fuck, man, magic!? How did you…? Why did you…?"

  Griff looked away. Of course, he knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. But what he didn't know what just how he'd handle it. With nothing coming to mind, he shook his head, endless frustration written all over his face. But this wouldn't stop him. He knew what to do…he just had to find that damned pendant.

  He looked back to Ignis.

  "I'm stuck in a time loop."

  "You…huh?"

  "A time loop. Like groundhog day. Forced to repeat the same shit over and over again until I get it right, and you and Charlie and Reiem have all died more times than I can count, and nothing is going right, and…" he trailed off, seeing the look of confused disbelief on Ignis's face. "And of course, you don't believe me."

  Ignis stared at him for a moment in shocked exasperation. "Griff, maybe we should go… You seem a little on edge."

  Griff ran his hand over his hair, balling his fingers up in frustration. How was he going to get him to believe him? He didn't want him to think he was losing it, but on the other hand he didn't really blame him. If he hadn't experienced it himself the last fifty—sixty?—times, he'd think he was losing his mind, too. And then the shadow attack he and Ghost failed miserably to avoid…

  That's it. The attack.

  "The soldier," he blurted out desperately. "The soldier that was there with you and Lori and Reiem and Charlie that day. That was me—like, me me, as I am right now. I remember Reiem talking about Basriel and the Bunny, and saw you try to hit him…"

  Ignis just stared at him, expression inscrutable, so he barreled on, not stopping to think if he was doing the right thing or not. He just needed Ignis to know. Soon it wasn't going to matter anymore, but he just couldn't bear all these secrets on his own anymore. Even if what the other Ignis told him was true—even if everything was going to reset just until that morning—he had to get it all out.

  "You know kid me wasn't there after shit went down. Kid me ran out with Dad, and then saved Nate after his parents got killed. You gotta know I'm telling you the truth, Iggy. I know I told you all that dreamtouched bullshit, but that's all it is—bullshit! I've lived through the same period of time over and fucking over, and it's been driving me insane because I just can't get it right! Until this time." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He grabbed Ignis's shoulders and held them tightly.

  "There's something in here I gotta find to make things go back just a little bit, and I need help. If I can fix this, then everything…"

  Griff watched desperately as Ignis processed everything, letting the truth of it show in his eyes. Ignis was always good at reading people; he should know he wasn't lying. He had to believe him.

  "Griff, I…what do you need to do?" he said finally, his voice quiet, quivering. He gently placed his hands onto Griff's shoulders, squeezing them as tightly as he could with his trembling fingers.

  Griff wanted
to cry, scream his joy at how easily someone finally was to convince of his secret plight. But he just gave the man's shoulders one final squeeze before letting go.

  "Your necklace." Instinctively he saw Ignis reach a hand to his chest, touching the spot of his shirt just under which he knew the pendant rested. He shook his head at the confused looked he received. "Not your necklace, but the one from my timeline. He was with me that day. The one who pointed a gun at you was…uh, well, you. But from the future."

  Ignis shuddered as he seemed to remember—his eyes narrowed, gaze down, before they widened almost comically, and he looked back up. "I was…too focused on the gun to realize," he whispered. Looking down to hide the frustrated tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes, he made an angry noise. "So, my necklace…but from future me? Why do you need it?"

  "Dude, you have no idea how glad I am that you're following this shit."

  "Trust me. I'm not. Just whatever I can do to help Charlie."

  At that, Griff nodded. "When we were here—uh, 'we' as in me and other Iggy—he lost his necklace and that's what's causing things to go stupid. Kinda like a paradox or something, and we gotta find it and return it—"

  "—and that should fix things?"

  "More or less?"

  Ignis stared at him. "Where do we start?"

  "No clue aside from 'somewhere inside the community center'."

  Ignis slowly looked away to the broken-down rooms around them.

  "Oh, and we don't have long," Griff added. "If things are gonna get fixed, we need to get it done before midnight."

  He was sure Ignis didn't fully understand, but silently thanked him nonetheless.