by Brhi Stokes
“Goodbye, Matthen.”
And I watched him walk into the darkness alone.
Then I grimaced, stood up, and ran after him.
I was grateful that he said nothing as I reached his side, simply glancing at me with a very small smile as we made our way through the city.
“It happens to everyone, doesn’t it?” I asked. “The apathy, the... dread?”
Matthen shrugged. “It happens to people without the suicidal jumps between worlds, right? Why would this be any different?”
“I just thought...” I trailed off, no longer sure of myself.
I had accepted the job to run from something, to dive headlong into a new and dangerous life. To learn that things never truly changed, that you would inevitably go back to feeling the way you did, was disheartening.
“She was right, though.” Matthen’s words drew my gaze to him and I saw that a small smile had worked onto his face. “It does pass.”
“Like everything...” I muttered quietly to myself.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “like everything.”
By the time we had had our fill of wandering around the darkened streets, it was very late. There was something charming about a city that never truly slept. People were still out, and we received a few curious glances as Matthen’s form continued to deteriorate. Half of his face was human, but the other showed his dark skin and a single mandible that quivered uneasily as we dodged wary gazes.
“Okay. Now I really have to go,” he told me, coming to a halt in the middle of the small side street.
“You say that like I was keeping you here.” I stare him down, even as the slow smile spreads across his now mismatched face.
“Well, you’re the reason I haven’t left yet.”
“I...” There was no good response to that. After all, I had been the one to chase him down after a very firm goodbye.
“Let’s try this again,” he told me, reaching out to brush his thumb along my jaw. I no longer had the energy to act like his touch bothered me. “I’ll see you around, Page.”
“Yes...” I said softly, resigned. “I guess you will.”
I watched him saunter away from me again, but this time I remained where I was until he had disappeared down the connecting street and out of my sight.
**
I ended up staying in a capsule hotel, rather than sleeping at the airport. The money I had exchanged needed to be used up, I had told myself, but I knew that I really just wanted to be alone. The bathing facilities were enough to have me feeling somewhat human again as I made my way to the airport via train.
I let the people pass me by as I waited for the flight. For a time, I sat there as they moved around me like autonomous drones. Except that, for the first time in years, I took the time to think about each of their lives. Where were they going? Were they leaving home or returning to it?
As no revelations came, I turned my mind to what I was doing, instead. It had never quite occurred to me that I was immortal, in a sense. Nor had I ever thought that being immortal would be a bad thing. I had to wonder how long Natsuko had been alive for, and if her determination to end her life was brought on by ennui, depression or just a deep tiredness that came with having lived for so long.
I knew I had no way of contacting her now, either. The city was too big to hunt through to find a single person, and it was very likely that she would not want to be found. It meant that I would just have to hunt for answers on my own, I thought.
I just had to hope that I liked whatever I found.
• • •
Connor stares at me from across the table, his eyes glistening slightly. Whatever had possessed me to let him stay in the spare bedroom the last two nights aside, he is at least enjoying the story. It is clear that something in the last part of the tale has struck a chord with him. He swipes at his eyes for a second before pushing his empty cup towards me. I turn to boil the kettle as he sighs softly.
“Are you lonely?” he asks the question so abruptly that I glance over my shoulder to look at him.
“No,” I say. “I like being by myself.”
“Really? But don’t you just get back from a job, wake up from being a corpse and come back to a dark, empty flat?”
Say what you want about kids these days, he is definitely in full belief of my story. He had been so incredulous at the start - his body movements rigid and disbelieving, and his tone a little sardonic - that it is strange to hear him questioning me so genuinely now.
“I’m not really a ‘people person’,” I try to explain as I refill our tea and consider what we should do for supper. My trips are not often long, but I rarely find the desire to cook when I have just returned from the dead.
“So how long ago did all this stuff happen?” he asks.
“I’m condensing it a little. It took place over a month or so, initially.”
“A month or so? But I thought you had problems since you were jumping so frequently?”
“Well that’s true enough, I had to take a few jumps in quick succession, but there was a bit of a gap between meeting Avilaigne for the first time and then going for the Oath. I also had to wait a few days where I just left off. I’ll get to that, but too much jumping in short succession isn’t good for the soul.”
“…the soul?” whispers Connor.
My lips twitch. “A joke,” I assure him.
“And you’re not lonely? I mean, you were just saying how you sat in the airport thinking about your life. And you really seem to like that Matthen guy.”
“Do I now?” I fold my arms.
“Well,” he begins, eyeing me carefully all of a sudden, “you’ve got a pretty good poker face, but you smile whenever you recite something he’s said.”
I shrug. “He smiles a lot. I’m… getting into character.”
To my surprise, Connor laughs. “Sure. And ‘smiles’? Present tense? That means you still see him?”
“Are you sure it’s me who should be accused of liking him?” I tease.
Connor’s cheeks flush and know I have successfully distracted the lad. “He sounds kinda cute…”
“Is it the mandibles or the bug wings that really do it for you?”
He finds his sass and tilts his slender chin up. “I dunno. You tell me!”
I am smiling in spite of myself. Daniel tends to take my stories with grim acceptance, so it is strange to have someone so… involved in them. “I am not attracted to Matthen,” I explain.
“Coulda fooled me,” Connor grumbles, sipping his tea. “So what happened next? Do you valiantly return the Sacred Oath and save the world?”
“Easy, kid,” I tell him. “I’m the one who almost damned the entire plane in the first place, let’s not pretend that I’m some righteous bringer of justice and peace.”
“That’d be cool,” he muses. “You should’ve said you wore armour. Maybe had a sword?”
“That would be embellishing.”
“I guess…” Connor descends into thought, but it only lasts a second. “There’s more of Matthen in the story, though, right?” he asks abruptly.
“Nope,” I tell him. “Completely done with Matthen. Forever. Now I’ll finish the story over take-out, but then I’m going to go pass out for the evening.”
Of course, a good storyteller never gives away the plot before it happens.
I continue with the tale.

The emissaries from Evisalon had given me their own version of the duct tape that I used to return things. It was a small roll of golden twine, which I wrapped gently around the amulet that hung around my neck. With no desire to be inventive in ways to off myself, I had jumped again. This time, into rocky water. The idea was less damage, more drowning. Besides, using the same method over and over again, especially in similar places, made the return worse.
When my eyes opened I saw that I was lying in broad daylight; I had to blink hard into the blinding light to get a feel for where I was. Grass below me, sky above. I roll
ed to the side and drew in an easy breath. I could not for the life of me, however, figure out what had happened to this body. There was no knitting together of bones, no scent of blood or gore or excrement. I was just suddenly very awake.
“Hello, traveller,” said a soft voice from nearby.
My eyes were too filled with tears from the light for me to make out the figure, and it took quite some time before I was able to blink into focus a blue face; one of my visitors.
When I could finally see straight, I looked around the small meadow in which I lay. Soft grass extended in all directions until it hit the edge of the tiny island and disappeared into the turquoise water I remembered from last time. A few hundred metres from the edge of the island, I could see a wispy grey cloud ejecting its waterfall into the sea. Even from here I could see that the water which fell from it was a murky grey. In the distance, more individual grey clouds did the same.
At least the sun was still shining.
I pushed myself to my feet and looked at my guide. Their robes were the same grey I remember being clad in last time I had ventured to Evisalon. It was in stark difference to my own black set, and I frowned down at myself in thought.
“It is strange to see the living clad in the black garb of the dead. However, it was necessary to prepare a place for your arrival,” my new friend told me, running a hand up through the small beard on their chin.
“You… killed someone for me to inhabit…?” For someone who killed themselves on a fairly regular basis, I was surprised at the way my stomach writhed at the thought.
“We had to arrange for your arrival,” was all my guide said, before turning away from me and stepping towards an ornate bridge that connected the next island.
“This way, please. We have some walking to do.”
We were at the very last island in this direction; a single bridge was the only way off. The next island connected to two more, each of the two to three more, and so on, until a conglomeration of islands stretched out as far as the eye could see. In the very distance, all the way to the other end of the archipelago, was the cathedral. Its black-and-gold spires gleamed in the light of a midday sun.
“You couldn’t have prepared a body for me a little closer to the cathedral?” I asked, barely realising that I toyed with the Oath as it sat around my neck. Unlike my tape, this appeared to take the twine-wrapped item directly with me.
The look on my guide’s face was enough to have me wondering if I should, instead, have asked why the bodies of several dead virgins had not been prepared for my arrival. “Death does not take place on holy ground.”
“But I was there - or nearby - when I came here the first time.”
My guide nodded as we crossed a pearl-and-gold bridge. “The bodies of the deceased are taken to the holy ground of their faith for whatever treatment is needed.”
So it had not been a particularly fresh body I had first arrived in… I batted the thought away and concentrated on our soft footfalls, instead.
On the second island, there were small structures that I assumed were houses, though they were far more beautiful than any house I had seen before. My guide led me past them, to a small copse where several creatures waited. At first, I thought they were deer. Then I noticed the distinct floppy ears that rose from their brown-furred faces and the paw-like front legs. My guide did not appear to mind as they headed towards the first of the two creatures and bowed. The deer-hare lowered itself slightly onto its front legs to return the gesture. I frowned; Myrkdraw might have been a mess, but at least it was more technological and less… magical?
Realising that the expectant gaze of both person and animals was on me, I moved to the next creature and bowed. I sighed softly as its ears flopped onto its face and it awkwardly bent a front leg. I knew what was coming next, and I was not looking forward to it. Regardless, I moved forward and pulled myself onto the creature’s bare back while my guide mounted up.
We bounded through the other islands, across intricately decorated bridges and past glistening spires. The mood had changed since I was last here, that much was clear. People eyed me with trepidation and fright as we leapt past atop the deer-hares. The funerary clothes, I realised as one woman shrunk back upon seeing me, I must look like I’ve just stepped from my grave.
Each of the buildings sat like perfect wine glasses in a crystal set, identical in structure, but each with its own adornments. Many were glass, or something like it, while others had more pearl and gold. Vines and leafy plants hung across the edge of bridges and curled their way up the side of every tower we passed.
Our mounts took us as far as the foot of the huge hill on which the cathedral sat. With the sun this high in the sky, it was blinding to look at; the gold banding throughout its form blazed with light. I shielded my eyes behind one hand as we began our trek up the hill. I was a little out of breath by the time we crested it, but the air was cool despite the sunlight and it did not take long until I felt refreshed once more.
The inside of the cathedral was as I remembered it: lights from the many stained glass windows setting the interior alight with colour. This time, however, it was completely empty. I was surprised to see the place so devoid of worshippers, but it was only upon entering that I discovered why. The air was icy to the touch, despite the warm light filtering in through the windows. My breath frosted in front of me as I turned to look at my guide, who had yet to step in.
“Oh, here.” I took the Sacred Oath from around my neck, wondering vaguely if I had not horrendously offended them by wearing their holy symbol.
My guide was swiftly shaking their head. “No, you may return it to its rightful place upon the altar.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to do it?”
There was hesitation in their eyes, but it passed quickly enough. “We… are unable to come into contact with an Oath.”
I looked down at the amulet in my hands and frowned; I had certainly offended them, then. It also explained why they had come to beg for my help in its return. Had they found Natsuko themselves, and she refused, they would have been helpless to take the Oath from her.
I made my way towards the statue behind the pulpit, feeling my fingers numb in the cold as I approached. Carefully, almost gingerly, I reached up to hook the chain around the head of the statue. The chain tinkled gently as it caught and I lay the amulet flush against the bare chest of the statue.
The change was instantaneous; warmth flooded my body as I released the pendant, thawing my numb fingers and relieving the air of the chill it had just held. The small amount of frost that clung to the pulpit began to disappear as if someone had taken to it with a dryer. Behind me, a grateful hum sounded.
The figure that emerged from the back of the cathedral was a little taller than me and their robes were white rather than black. Their face was hidden behind a porcelain mask in the shape of a wolf. I shuddered, remembering the fox-masked messenger we had spoken to on the rooftop with Natsuko. This person was far different, however. Where the fox-masked creature had been clad in black, their mask seeming to float in the darkness by itself, the person in front of me was clearly wearing theirs. A shock of pale hair cascaded down around the mask, and its markings were gold, rather than red.
I stepped from the pulpit as they approached, their footfall bringing them to stand directly in front of me. This close, I could see that their eyes were like liquid gold, rimmed in black with no visible whites as if a wolf truly was looking at me from behind the mask. They extended a white-gloved hand towards the pulpit behind me and I had the strangest impression that they were smiling behind the mask. A surge of warmth rushed through my chest as their canine eyes settled upon me.
“Thank you,” the voice was feminine and carried with it the sound of distant chimes.
“I wouldn’t thank me. You probably know that I was sent here to…” I tried, but the words died in my throat. I tried for them a second time but was overtaken by a coughing fit, instead. For a moment, I just rubbed my throa
t, the tingling sensation fading just as quickly as it had started once I decided to drop the topic.
“You have returned the Sacred Oath. You have assisted in the preservation of Evisalon. And for that we are grateful.” The creature laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and my tension disappeared along with the scratching sensation in my throat.
“I guess the Masters of Earth thought giving it back was the right thing to do.” Though I was not so sure of that, myself. Nor had I any good reason as to why the messenger had let me take the amulet. I doubted very much that doing the right thing even occurred to creatures like that. I had yet to work out whether that was because they were omniscient, and that things like right and wrong were simply beneath them, or if they were just inherently nasty.
“Do you enjoy being a traveller?” they asked.
“That’s what you call fixers, isn’t it? I…” I had never thought of it in terms of enjoyment before. After a second’s hesitation, I shrugged. “It’s fine.” What else would I do, anyway? Natsuko had made it very clear that once you took this job, you were not exactly entitled to leave it. Any negative thoughts I had, however, simply drifted away in the presence of the white-robed creature. They eyed me carefully for some time with their intense, bright eyes, before nodding.
“I have a proposition for you,” they told me. I wanted to be trepidatious, to be nervous about whatever the creature might propose, but their company calmed my nerves and I simply stared mildly at them.
“Sure,” I said.
“My people tell me that you have negotiated well between travellers and… others over the past while.”
It was only in the silence that followed that it occurred to me they were asking. I nodded quickly. “I suppose so. It’s not really what I had set out to do, though.”
“Would you like to continue doing so? We would be pleased for you to become an arbiter.”
“Pardon?” I blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow…”