The Great Beyond- the Vile Fate

by K M McGuire

  He listened to the blur of sounds lulling out of the kitchen. He could hear Andar’s inflections cheerfully conversing with Razar where soft tinkles joined to the sounds, and smells ambled out from the kitchen. A sense of ease came out with it as well, one he had not thought of in some time. It was one that reminded him of the comfort he once had in Adetia, but he had not quite felt it outside of the domed city. It was as though the structure, the noises, even the smells…the feeling of friends surrounding him. All of it whispered a sentiment he longed for, but he’d never examined how empty he was without it. He now, for the first time since leaving, truly missed Adetia.

  Something he could not understand brought a strange amalgamation of bittersweet feelings. He could not discern anything tangible to warrant the affirmation, but maybe it was an air of freedom found in the safety of the home. When the walls felt most invulnerable, it was able to break down more of the masks covering a person’s mind, that cozy sensation that unshackled the restraints of everything so large and out of touch with the truth. Here, just as it was in Adetia, everything felt less of a paradox and simplified, and perhaps that connection brought the strange emptiness he couldn’t fully shake. His thoughts broke suddenly, as the door to the home slid open. He turned his attention to the one person able to stop his thoughts from drifting turbulently around his head. He felt his mind ease.

  “Did you close down the store?” Razar called from the kitchen.

  “Of course, father,” she responded.

  “Thank you,” he replied, reflecting her tone. “If you could set the table, I would appreciate it.”

  “Of course.”

  Voden stretched. “Mind if I help?” he asked.

  “No, its fine.” She smiled. “Thanks, though.”

  Voden shrugged to himself and sat back down on the couch, looking listlessly out the window. The blue orbs speckled through the city, and their gentle glow tugged a smile out of him. He studied the subtle floating pulse of the orbs, where the wind buffeted them like a leaf gripping firmly to its branch. He watched the finely dressed citizens walking across the bridge of branches, marveling at the network, unable to tell if they were Tastin, human, or anything in between. The bridges connected to certain trees that had been transformed into staircases, and the bark flared out above the balcony that ran around the trunk. The light of the blue orb flooded down the stairwell, spiraling inside the trunk.

  He tried to trace a path leading towards the Eternal Tree, hoping to scout out the easiest way, but it became too difficult to follow all the divergences. Through the window, he could hear the humming of the city, imitating the sounds of the forest he had grown accustomed to for the past few months. He turned towards Vec, still enthralled by the book, now flipping through the pages, brow cutting dangerously over his eyes.

  “To the table!” exclaimed Razar, carrying out a hefty pot of vegetable stew.

  Voden rose with his eager stomach, but his head was not as quick. He waited a moment to gain his bearing, then walked to the table, while Vec mindfully placed the book in the chair, his page open face down in the seat. Voden placed his hands on the surface of the smooth table and sat down, admiring the comfort of the room. Andar set a block in the center of the table for Razar to place the frothing stew, which chanted and sang a love song to Voden’s stomach. Yael grabbed their bowls and filled them generously, trying to ignore Voden and Vec’s moans of hunger. Voden smiled, noting how hard she struggled not to laugh.

  “I know it may upset you, Vec,” Yael said, handing him his bowl. He tried to snatch it from her, but she playfully held it firm. His eyes grew wide. “There’s no meat, but this is father’s special stew. Even you will enjoy it.”

  “Thank you,” he said earnestly to Razar, and he gave him a quick nod before engorging himself. Voden, too, could not find a polite way to go about eating, so he decided to follow Vec’s lead. All at once, everyone flipped spoonful after spoonful into their gaping mouths, panting with satisfaction as they scraped their bowls, ready for seconds.

  “So,” Razar began, the time now right to begin a real conversation, “Vec, your name must be short for something?”

  Vec hesitated, as though he was trying to focus on the food and not the question. “Not sure I can give you an answer,” he muttered through chunks of vegetables.

  “I know much of what we hear are rumors, so I may be mistaken,” Razar said nonchalantly, spooning a potato into his mouth. He continued, “but I’ve heard a rather compelling rumor about a man named Vectomeer of Jud, who slayed a snow stij only to return home to…” Razar paused when he noticed Vec’s face.

  Something painful flicked across his eyes, but he forced it back down, stifling the reaction. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They are vicious creatures… even for those who are adept with AD,” Razar said again in an odd, causal manner, prying for more.

  “Do you mean to tell me you’re from the Great Plains?” Andar asked suddenly, looking at Vec, eyes wide with shock. Voden could see Vec’s slight discomfort at the implication. Voden knew of Jud, the land just south of Adetia. It stretched as far south as the Barren. Surely Vec was not from this area?

  “So, the rumor goes,” Razar said. “The finest farmlands in all the world! That’s what makes the story so compelling. To think a farm boy venturing so far north to slay a snow stij…well, that would be something I would brag about.”

  “A stij is nothing you would want to brag about killing, let alone find yourself up against,” Vec shuddered, slamming his spoon so fiercely into the table it stabbed into the grain, and the wooden spoon cracked and splintered up the shaft. The room became quiet, as it was too late for an apology for prying.

  Voden studied Vec’s face as it became dark and brooding.

  “There are many dangers on the mountain…the snow, the rocks, the cold.” Vec shivered. “The ground beneath you could feel solid, when the earth beneath you bursts, throwing you like a leaf to the wind. Even if you have enough time to compose yourself, it probably is already too late. They do not stop. They are large—encased in…wretched mounds of rock! Bones are like powdered snow to them. Luck against them is just as odd as heat in those regions.” He grimaced at Razar, who didn’t respond. He had gotten his wish. Vec sighed and continued. “I was with a small hunting group; my Uskar brothers. They had finally accepted me as one of their own.”

  “A hard feat,” Razar said, impressed.

  “Very,” Vec agreed. “I had lost myself in that region a few years prior. I don’t know why they took me in, but they accepted me from the moment they found me. I hadn’t realized it until much later. Anyways, I had worked hard to be part of the hunting party. They taught me true strength. We were running low on food in the middle of the blizzard season. We had no choice but to go up the mountain and hunt mammoths. Not a fun hunt if you’ve ever had the displeasure to do so. A quarter of our men died, which was considered fortunate. We were heading home with our kill when the ground crumbled beneath us.” Vec paused a moment and chugged some of his beer. “You see, stij have a keen sense of smell. They sleep most of their lives, but when they finally wake, hah! There is no stopping them. Well, maybe when they’re born, before they cement themselves to a crag. That’s about the only time they’re vulnerable. They hide and grow, and stone adheres to their skin. Once they are strong enough to break the stone free, don’t go near them. Thank the Beyond they sleep so much, I would think that creature would kill everything if it didn’t.”

  Voden respected Vec’s pause, understanding that some stories were not always worth remembering, or worth being remembered for.

  “Anyways, the one that attacked us was a female in heat, and I can only assume she was hungry and smelled the blood of the mammoth. She saw the food, but no mate. You can imagine, a female who wants some, but only found us—she must have been majorly disappointed,” he laughed at his joke, but no one joined him. He shook his head and continued. “She tore through us, bashing anything
with a pulse with her stony, clubbed hand. All that was left were dark red smears across the compacted snow. I ran for cover, scared, honestly, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before she found me. Now, if you ever find one, remember that their stomach is their weakness. They don’t cover them with stone, so it’s the softest spot on their bodies. It’s harder to hit, the bigger they. The other thing I learned is how weak their legs are. They’re tiny and only used to balance the creature out. Really, they don’t need them much more than to scuttle to a hole when they’re little. If you can knock them off balance, you have a chance.”

  Fascinating, Voden thought.

  “So, I managed to get some courage, as it came barreling down the mountain towards me. I really don’t know how, watching those arms swing…” He shuddered again. “I fired some arrows at its legs. You can’t do anything to their arms, but if they can’t plant themselves on their legs,” Vec’s face perked up with a slow curt nod, raising his hands, “they can’t use their arms to attack. She tried to set herself down, but her legs wouldn’t hold. She knew it was me who stopped her advance, and the look she gave me caused my heart to fail. I couldn’t find my brothers, either hiding or dead. All I saw were those beady eyes, and her snarling teeth as she gurgled like an angry hive of bees. But I had more to lose. I held her gaze. I don’t know how I managed it, but I would not concede. I gripped my spear, knowing I had one chance to hit the joint under her left arm. I needed to pierce her heart.”

  Yael leaned in, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open. “What did you do?”

  “I had to wait for her to move. She would be impatient, but I couldn’t be. I knew if I charged, it was over for me, my brothers, my—” He gulped his words down, unable to finish them. He shook his head and continued. “She lurched forward, swinging her bottom for momentum. She flung herself at me, but I moved too quickly for her. As she descended, I cast my spear in desperation, praying to the Beyond it would hit its mark. I slid across the snow and cracked my head against an outcropping of rock.” He pointed to the jagged scar across his cheek. “She landed feet away from me, and even though I was trying to look through the stars, I could see she had turned towards me. But she was struggling. Her arm gave out, and she fell to the ground. The worst of it was she made no noise, like it didn’t hurt. She hardly winced. I pulled my sword, trying to recover from my own injury. I sprinted faster than I had ever run in my life, hoping she wouldn’t get up. I saw her exposed stomach, and all I knew was to slice it open when her claw swiped at me, smacking my body into the nearby rockface. I don’t remember much, the rest is just a blur, but Otharo, my hunt brother, woke me. The stij was dead, black blood pooled around her. Otharo attended my wounds, but I was lucky. I wasn’t sure if he finished the beast off or not, either way, he saved me.”

  He ended almost abruptly, looking at Razar, then Andar. Everyone still clung to the last of his story, unwilling to seek more.

  “I’m sorry,” Razar said somberly, pausing a moment before adding, “for all your loss.”

  “We do what we must for the ones we love,” Vec responded, acknowledging Razar’s gesture. He found his mug of beer and gulped it down. He glanced at Andar from the rim of his mug.

  Razar waited a moment before turning his attention towards Voden and Andar. “So, Andar tells me that you two come from Adetia?”

  “Father…” said Yael, her eyes sharpening.

  “I’m just…curious. It is most unexpected, to say the least,” he said, giving Voden a rather judgmental look.

  “Y-yes!” responded Voden shaken. “That’s where we’re from…where we were born!”

  “Relax, boy!” Razar chuckled, and he sipped his beer, staring at them over the rim, “But I must admit, with such a beginning as there, what in creation begs you to come all this way?”

  “We are looking for the Lady of the Lake,” Andar responded, voice slightly hard. Voden could see the accusations boiled his emotions a bit, though he managed to keep them well composed. “Our city is dying, and this, from what we’re told, is the only way to save it.”

  Razar stared at him, unable to form words on his tongue. The room remained quiet, watching Razar for a response. The fire from the hearth called from the far corner, blissfully dancing by itself. “Do you know what you’re getting into?” Razar finally asked, with his words so cold they nearly froze in Voden’s ears. Yet, even through his icy tone, his voice filled with urgency. Whatever Razar implied, Voden couldn’t gauge, and it made him feel uneasy.

  “We don’t,” Andar said honestly, looking directly into Razar’s eyes. A passionate fire flickered there, like the hearth in the other room. No, it was bigger, stronger. It was a confidence that empowered the atmosphere. “But I was born without a clue to what the world would be and what I was getting into. Yet I still continue on. When we left, we had not much more than the skin on our backs. Fear bit at us every step of the way, and we still have carried on. Now, we have made it all the way to Septium, closer to our destination than we could have imagined! I have never known what life has had in store for me. Fate is a fool’s way to explain away choice, but I will never give into fear, or believe there is no hope. I wasn’t born to hide; I would be unborn, lost in the womb, if that were so. I am only burdened when I decide I no longer have a choice of what could make for better futures, when I concede to the idea that fate is the only path we run. Fate has dealt many people an excuse for apathy, but I have world of choice that proves fate is a lie. That is why I press forward.” He looked around the table, an almost tangible shudder rippled across Voden, and he assumed it touched everyone else as Andar met their gazes. “Fear can sit behind me and watch courage conquer.”

  The city was in shadows where impressions of trees were cast in hazy blue light, glimmering from the orbs, like stars that looked back to the earth with a lamentable glaze of brilliant light. They danced and sparkled with jests that felt so far out of reach. The mocks hurt his heart more as the twinkling morphed to sneers. Voden stared at the orbs and thought of the distance between the stars, hoping they could change his feelings. In their blissful gleam, his heart sank lower. He could not grasp his sudden depression that fell with the sun; the ache felt as if his chest crumbled in. His head wished for nostalgia, but memories rejected any sense of happiness.

  Anything worth its weight was in an umbral box, tightening beyond his focus. His eyes now gazed out to the larger view. The landscape was as blurred as the smudging twilight. Voden stared at what he imagined was the hope he found at the center of the glowing orbs, but it seemed much further now, the heavens less tangible than that. He wondered how any of that which sat above him could wait for him. Or if it even cared to.

  He looked up through the trees, through the crooked web of broken-looking fingers, to catch a glimpse of the sky. His eyes were now fixed, but his mind began to wander away from his sight. He watched the first star appear, as if a brush pricked a hole in the sky, while the ink of night rippled subtly across the heavens, the calligraphist spilling it out into the waters above. He knew it was just thoughts, but he felt a curious sensation that the sky reflected a metaphor deeper than he understood. The depths gurgled bubbles of glinting stars as they drowned in the conflict lost in the night. It mingled into reality, where the memories and the prophetic no longer seemed black and white.

  The memories of pain rushed like seeping tendrils of fluid, dragging the anodyne relief he found in repression, like a squid tightening its arms around his neck. And its beak was open, ready to force Voden down with languorous guilt. The sky had opened his pain; he felt it in his heart, wetting his cheek from a single tear. The bleakness did not as it gazed back at him. It was a vacant gaze that knew what he could not, something that smelled or whispered secrets only to death. The pain may not always follow him; it only returned to remind him what emptiness felt like.

  He wondered then what the void was, no longer the expanse above, but what it meant for him as he stared into its depths. Would it calm him at his final breath,
or soothe the aches in that moment? Would it be like falling into a bath of eternal peace? He shocked himself, realizing how he had not given himself time to consider the unknown. It dawned on him, like the sudden burning of the first evening star. Perhaps it was something he needed to consider, not because it was knocking at his door, but because it would eventually happen.

  The ink of consciousness and the water of reality swirled together again, flipping his thoughts on end. How simple it was to let go; the gentle hush and its soothing numbness. The drip of a thought made it all become like ink. And in waves, the darkness could tower. It rushed his mind with an army of fear and a hint of awe. To know the boundlessness of what he could do or the ease with which he could lose himself among the vastness of the shadowed sky, brought no comfort. It was easy to blend in with the rest of the world. The hand tipped so effortlessly to numb the pain and suffering. Consciousness could ensnare everything inside such a small, residual space, buried deep within the maw of wanting, when it turned its eyes away from the light of revelation. Voden wondered how far he’d have to travel to reach it.

  He thought of Zari, the woman he slept with in Barisko. He had not found any time to go over his thoughts since that morning. Her face caught along this thread of memories, caught in the beam that refracted off the string, though now it blurred from trying to shove it deep inside. The color of her hair and skin were the only things that held the semblance of the memory. Maybe it was for the best. Yet, his mind would not let the thought of her go, as if it were tied around his ankle, urging him to go no further. He could remember what he now knew to be a lack of care for him; maybe it was more than this. She hungered for the tiny coin above all else. He felt in ways she was like the coin: both a double-sided token, alluring hearts with its shiny face, and for what purpose?