A Different Kind of Despair

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A Different Kind of Despair Page 6

by Nicole Martinsen


  "Do you remember what I said to Larry earlier? About most children not knowing their fathers?"

  "Yes."

  "In our society, our identities, our past and present, is all traced through matrilineal descent. Many women also don't have access to the magic and knowledge of necromancers, so whether there are troubles with infertility, or birth, it's important to leave many descendants. If the mother ever dies, the siblings still have each other."

  I peeked out from the covers, smirking at his bemused expression.

  "Women have many lovers, but they can only have one husband. I guess you might call it... their first love." I smiled into my memories of growing up, watching as girls on the cusp of womanhood carved their totems with a mysterious glint in their eyes, as though they were in their very own worlds, beautiful and on a pedestal I couldn't possibly hope to reach. "First loves are pure and precious, and even the pain is bittersweet. You're my first love, Marvin."

  I closed my eyes then, a part of me wilting at the words poised to come out of my mouth; another eager to set them free.

  "I was there every morning, watching you practice walking on your new legs, and I saw you work every chance I had. Your face was like a mask, so I said outlandish things and bothered you to see whether I could finally shake it loose." I paused to giggle at some of my antics. "And when I got tired of bothering you, I'd just sit there in the yurt. The way your hands moved when you crushed ingredients of combined them was so... certain, and beautiful... I felt like I was seeing a magician before my eyes. If you asked me when exactly it was that I started loving you, I can't say," I admitted quietly. "Maybe I loved you all along. All I know is that I do."

  Again, silence. The longer it stretched the deeper my face burned with the realization of everything I had said. Finally, fearful of the quiet that had grown between, us, I removed the blanket-shawl from my face.

  Marvin's fist was pressed against his mouth. If possible, he was even redder than I was.

  "Does that..." I said carefully, "answer your question?"

  "It does."

  He stood up, and I feared that I'd gone too far with my sincerity. But rather than leave, he just turned out the lights. One by one, until the room was dark.

  "The fire makes you uncomfortable, right?"

  I thought my heart was about to stop.

  "Thank you."

  "Miraj, I'm only going to say this once, so listen carefully."

  "Alright."

  "You are sixteen -no matter how you might appear on the outside, you're a child at least for two more years," he stressed. "I'm a bit socially retarded, anti-social as a result, and a coward who has a knack for getting himself into terrifying situations. Are you okay, even knowing all of that?"

  I raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

  He made a frustrated sound, more at himself than at me.

  "I'm saying, if you're willing to accept those faults, I'm willing to see where this goes. This marriage thing."

  "Ma..." I couldn't find the words for a full minute. "Two years?" I groaned. "That's too far away!"

  "That's the condition. You can take it or leave it."

  "I'll take it! I'll take the condition, and I'll take you too!"

  I heard him snort.

  "Glad to see we have an understanding."

  Through the blanket, I felt him shuffle until he was lying down next to me. I took that as my cue to do the same. I tried to get closer, but he sliced his arm across the space between us in an imaginary line.

  "Two years," he repeated.

  "So I can't even lay a hand on you?"

  "I'm hearing a whole lot of whining from a woman who supposedly gets to sleep beside the man she loves."

  "Says the legless lizard," I shot back, referencing the top of the totem I'd carved for him. I reached out again, but this time Marvin caught my errant hand in his.

  "This," he said, twining his fingers between mine, "is the only concession I'm going to make."

  I smirked as a wicked idea came to mind.

  "So I can hold your hand whenever I want?"

  "Whenever you want."

  "You're not allowed to let go first."

  "Fine."

  I took our hands and pressed the back of his to my lips, leaving a warm and gentle kiss on his skin.

  "Miraj..." he warned.

  Oh Marvin, you're so naive at times like this.

  One by one, I kissed his fingers. First the knuckles, then the tips, finally propping one in my mouth with the tip of my tongue.

  He swore.

  "Two years," I repeated sweetly. "Two whole years of holding hands. Every. Single. Night."

  We remained that way for many minutes until exhaustion washed over me in a great tide. I fell asleep, eager for my first night in a safe haven since all this began. I sought to dream deeply and I did.

  …for about four hours.

  "Miraj. I know you can hear me."

  I rubbed my eyes. The blackened room was filled with fog. I glanced down at Marvin, asleep at my side, but he was distant somehow. I'd drifted into the realm of spirits.

  "Miraj." I saw a pair of sandaled feet, grimacing at the demon attached to them. Koronos smirked in his usual condescending way. "I have a surprise for you."

  "I'm not interested."

  "Don't be like that. Wouldn't you like to hear from Lady Galatea?"

  The name jerked me awake faster than a pale of ice water. The devil was doing a fine job of getting under my skin.

  "I already have Marvin's heart," I said, my voice clipped. She was his past. I'm his future."

  He pressed a finger to his lip, chuckling. "How precious. Marvin is a good man. Good men know pity. And you, my sweet, are quite the pitiful character, aren't you?"

  It was incredible how quickly my joy plummeted through the floor. Koronos had a point. Marvin was kind; it was one of the qualities I liked most about him. And... I did see pity in the way he looked at me. Not last night, but before. Doubt mocked my happiness, and the demon reveled in its loss.

  "It's simply a little chat, my Shaman. No bargains to be made here," he said, holding out his empty hands as a gesture of good faith.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, still suspicious, but his offer appealed to my need for answers.

  "Just a conversation," I said, taking his outstretched hand. "This is for closure, and then I'm done."

  "Of course, of course," he repeated, escorting me out the door.

  I looked to either side of the empty hallway. A low laugh rumbled out of his throat.

  "What's so funny?" I asked.

  "You, my dear. You needn't worry about being caught. Only the spiritually inclined can spot you in the Grey."

  "The Grey?"

  "The Grey is the dimension that resonates with earth-bound spirits. Shamans, and a few exceptionally talented individuals, can slip into the Grey as they please. There are even certain pockets in this world, and those beyond, called Greyzones. The Grey bleeds out into the physical realm. Most call these places sacred... or cursed."

  "I'm invisible in the Grey?"

  Koronos made a musing sound at that question, turning round a bend.

  "Invisible is much too simple. Think of it as slipping between layers of space. You no longer exist in the physical world, Miraj. Call it a talent unique to Shamans."

  "Explain yourself."

  "Most people would need some help entering the Grey. Usually with certain herbs, to fall into a trance. We call that astral projection. Shamans, on the other hand, access the Grey with little to no effort at all -and their physical body comes along for the ride."

  I thought about how Jiki had transformed us into water in order to traverse Purilo's caverns. She also said that the reason she could do such a thing was because I was Shaman. Was this what she meant by it?

  "Is it possible to borrow the abilities of spirits while I'm in the Grey?"

  The devil's face lit up with a great smile. "Precisely." He clasped his hands behind his back. I watched as s
everal skeletal servants made their way in the opposite direction. Tiny black orbs trailed the space behind them, connected as though by an imperceptible thread.

  "They're criminals," I noted, nodding my head at the human bones. "Or at least they were, once. Why weren't their spirits bigger? I can't speak with those."

  "Not all spirits are powerful enough to obtain, or retain, intelligence. The few that manage to last over the course of many years become stronger, however. Some predate even devils, like myself." Koronos pursed his lips at the thought. "Ancient and unfathomable -you'd be wise to avoid them."

  The tunnels changed again, going from misty quartz to dark, dark ebony. The walls were rife with effigies of cowled skeletons and robed figures. Many carried lanterns, guiding the dead in an eerie procession through the halls.

  "Where are we?"

  "In the section of Nethermountain belonging to House Thanos."

  "This place is huge -why is it so empty?"

  "Because, little Shaman," said the devil, lifting two fingers. "Marvin and his mother are its two sole surviving members."

  My eyes widened at him, silently demanding answers.

  The devil sighed.

  "Thanos is unique among the Six Houses. Unlike most necromancers, who are simple scholars, members of House Thanos are highly trained combatants... once upon a time," he amended, thinking of Marvin with a wry smirk. "When certain experiments went awry, they were called in to rectify the situation."

  "You mean there's such a thing as a necromancer trained to kill undead?"

  "It sounds strange at first," he confessed. "But I'm sure you saw Lichtenstein below. Certain beasts need to be taken down, or else who knows how much damage they'll inflict?"

  Wooden beams and paneling became prevalent in the oldest section of the halls. Koronos paused before a door. It was left ajar, with just enough space for me to pass without touching its surface. I shimmied my way in and walked up the stairs beyond.

  I found myself in an attic space, with beams of moonlight filtering onto the floor. A heavy pall of dust looked like a blanket of snow from the Grey. I wandered towards the back until I finally saw a figure -an old woman, all skin and bones, with two startlingly pink eyes.

  "Miraj," Koronos started, "it's my pleasure to introduce you to Lady Diana Galatea."

  I furrowed my brow. "You? You were the one Marvin was in love with?"

  Diana's spirit frowned deeply. "Koronos said much about you."

  The devil disappeared once I turned around, searching for answers. He was just gone, with no trace of him ever being there in the first place.

  Diana clutched my arms with a strength that belied her shriveled state.

  "You need to leave Nethermountain."

  "What?"

  She peered at me strangely, narrowing her eyes. "You're a Shaman. You should be able to sense, through touch, how old I am."

  "Four-hundred-thirty-two years old," the answer tumbled out of my mouth. My brain caught up with it seconds later. "Four hundred-? How is that even possible?!"

  Diana's smile was a grim one.

  "I," she said in her tight voice, "was turned into a living Doll, and I stayed that way for centuries until Marvin finally broke the curse."

  "Is that how he lost his legs?"

  "Yes, Miraj. That was how Marvin lost his legs." She closed her eyes at the memory. "My spirit should have passed over at that time, but it was bound here, to the coffin in Nethermountain. At first I thought it was Koronos who was responsible," Diana admitted. "But that couldn't be. Now that he's under Marvin's control he shouldn't have any claim to mortal lives from before."

  I walked over to the coffin in question. It was a simple wooden box, but there was a musty smell I found vaguely familiar, like rotten eggs. No.

  "Brimstone." I turned around. "This coffin was made by a demon."

  "And I know who." Diana looked on me in earnest. "You have to get Marvin out of Nethermountain, Miraj. He isn't safe here, especially not now that Mahlah has the Eyes."

  "Wait!" I hissed, waving my hands for her to slow down. "Mahlah? Eyes?"

  "The Eyes of the Leviathan," Diana murmured. "An artifact of tremendous power. Mahlah is the Crone of Astheneia -she was the one who made that coffin, Miraj. Mahlah is a demon."

  "Why would a demon want to harm Marvin?"

  "Because that's what devils do!" Diana fumed. "Marvin is also the Inheritor, the reincarnation of the First Necromancer, Inval. I don't know what Inval did that stoked the fires of Hell this badly, but I do know that because of it Marvin will never be safe."

  My heart sank. Diana could see it through my expression.

  "Miraj..." she said warily. "Where is Marvin?"

  "In House Soma. When Koronos led me here Marvin was alone." I swore under my breath, charging back down the stairs. How could I have been so foolish?

  I was never the devil's aim.

  But it was thanks to me that Marvin was now in very real danger.

  10: Possess Me

  Diana ran after me. Her feet sounded like someone splashing through the rain.

  "Which way do I go?" I called.

  "Left!"

  I followed her directions, navigating back to my room.

  "Diana," I huffed, "are you any good at fighting?"

  "In my youth, yes!"

  I closed my eyes and prayed I knew what I was doing. This all seemed so far above my head. Souls and spirits, dimensions and devils -these were stories, weren't they? Cultural treasures, odes to the glorious imagination of my people!

  And founded upon truth, apparently.

  We rounded the final corner, picking up the din of clashing metal in the hall.

  Marvin narrowly dodged an incoming skeletal swing, tearing off his attackers arm and speaking his strange words to it. I watched as the bone transformed into a short sword, but it wasn't enough to fend off four more attackers.

  I could take out two, maybe three, but we would still come up short.

  "Diana, possess me."

  "What?"

  "Just take my hand, dammit!" I shouted.

  The old spirit did as I told her to do, and I felt her, deeply, completely -years of quiet longing and love gone unrequited. Everything she was melded into my mind, body, and soul. I felt myself changing, and her growing presence in my thoughts.

  "Help me, Diana," I ordered.

  There was a short pause.

  Lend me complete control, Miraj. I need you to let go.

  I exhaled, instinctively loosing the tension in my muscles. Diana's existence flowed through my limbs like a warm breeze, and I watched through the eyes of a bystander in my own head. My body dashed towards the first opponent, but I, Miraj, reclined as it all happened, trusting Diana to play her role to perfection.

  Every motion was smoothly executed, the product of decades of practice put to use. She went for the weapons in their hands first, elbowing one skeleton in the jaw, tearing an axe from a bony hand, and then spinning the heel of my foot into the ribs of another.

  Bones were dashed against the quartz walls, making it so the parts were too far from the source body to reform.

  "...Miraj?"

  Diana turned my head in Marvin's direction. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the quartz from the corner of my eye, prompting me to wrest control of my body from the neck up.

  Binding myself to Jiki had led me to become a being of water; fusing my body with Diana's spirit had turned my eyes petal pink. The kauna had gone from black to ivory. I brushed my fingers across the designs, stunned to discover that my skin had turned to porcelain.

  "Marvin, it's me, Diana." Diana borrowed my lips and tongue, speaking in a voice that wasn't my own. Through my eyes, I saw Marvin gaping. His mouth was an expression of disbelief, but his eyes knew the truth. "Miraj let me possess her body in order to help you. You must leave Nethermountain."

  "How are you even here?"

  "It's the Crone, Marvin. She tied my spirit to the coffin." Diana grabbed him by the sh
oulders. "She's a demon, just like Koronos. And now that she has the Eyes there's no telling what she's trying to accomplish."

  "What?"

  Diana whipped my head to the side. We picked up the sound of running, with too many sets of feet to gauge the numbers.

  She grabbed Marvin by the arm.

  "We need to get to a more defensible position! Hurry!"

  A map of Nethermountain unfolded before my eyes. My head felt as though it would split open any minute, pulsing violently with every flash of knowledge.

  A body was never meant to take more than one soul, but the nature of my kuana forced a crude fusion between us. More and more I understood Jiki's reservations; the greater the ability, the worse the drawbacks.

  We ran for several minutes, going deeper into the caverns until we reached an imposing set of cast iron doors. Diana threw them open, my arms channeling a strength far beyond human capacity.

  This was the Morgue, and the Pit was at the far end of the room. A memory of falling stung me like a thorn. Falling and landing upon the cold and dirty ground, broken, bleeding...

  I sank to my knees, whimpering.

  "Diana?" When I opened my eyes I couldn't see Marvin, but a man with a face identical to him. The difference rested most strongly in the way he looked at me, pitying and certain. My heart fluttered and broke all together.

  "Her body isn't strong enough to maintain the possession," Diana struggled. "Marvin, barricade the Morgue."

  He didn't question the order.

  Diana's spirit fled its temporary shell. I heaved against the frozen floor, sweat pouring down my skin. I never knew the powers of a Shaman could be this agonizing.

  "Miraj," Diana spoke to me, once again in her ancient, stormy pall. "I need you to get a hold of yourself. If I need to relay something to Marvin then you're the only one who can help."

  "Marvin," I muttered, my eyes roving the surroundings.

  He stood at the edge of the Pit, uttering Runes.

  Runes?

  "Gah! I can't tell whose thoughts are whose anymore!"

  I heard the grotesque sound of skin and bones breaking from the Pit. Marvin's hand was bleeding as he chanted. I gazed in awe as a humanoid being emerged from the gaping hole, blood still leaking off its monolithic frame.

 

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