by K M McGuire
“What is the Oath?” she asked, feeling her eyes swell, as though the air thickened with anticipation. The orb pulsed at her consternation.
“It is not known to those who do not see it,” he said. “It is not understood by those who have not chosen it. The world has turned its eyes away from seeing the curse and taking no account for what was done. When the center of the Oath is pierced, the paradox becomes known, and the doorway onward, opens. If there be any resistance to the darkness that will fall, let it be in this first moment, at the paradox of life and death, at the center of both where the lies fall away and the truth set free.”
Blossum set her teeth and nodded at the shape. “Then, what is to be done with this?”
“Your duality must die to the paradox,” he replied and raised his hands around the orb, pressing it together. It wavered a moment, as tendrils snapped back and forth and finally settled into a shape that looked oddly like a knife, pointed towards the being’s chest. For a moment, she could not understand what he meant, but it began to crystallize the more he looked into her, realizing what the knife was meant to do. He was the paradox that needed to be pierced. She studied his face, unable to read the textures lost to the light.
“It’s okay, Blossum. All truth cuts like a knife. There is always a sacrifice to move forward. I am a door that opens to futures. I am a door closing to the past. I am the toll paid because the cost would be enough to kill you, but it will break and crumble at me, and your journey forward will always be steps that shed more stone from off your soul.”
Blossum felt her eyes tear with sorrow, unable to say what she now felt. She could feel the duality snapping at her. She knew how much it tore at her thoughts and nearly tortured her, as though she stood before the gates of the Collapsing Plane, where the hellish hounds snarled for her to enter. She felt the knife, a cold she hated, burning worse than flames. Her hand trembled as she closed her eyes to hold back the tears.
“Must it be like this?” she asked. She flicked her eyes open, and for a moment, she swore she saw the beauty of his face.
“I will tell you yes, but you will never be sure until you make a choice, and if you want to know a secret, there is only one thing that ever allows for choice to exist. I can accept your decision to walk away, but in the end, will you?”
K. M. McGuire enjoys his life in Lancaster, Pennsylvania where he has spent the majority of his life. He and his wife, daughter, and cat, Attila, keep relatively to themselves. Currently, Mister McGuire maintains a full-time construction job while scheming his next thrilling narrative.
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