CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

BENEATH

Here it lies, a path between a lake, and tall grass. On it an army of men and women in black armor; they stand suspended in time like a picture. She watches. Long black hair with strands of purple, fair skin, and almond-shaped eyes all combine with her gracious figure in a shape of exquisite beauty; she turns to look at this display, revealing the other half of her body to be grotesque. Half of her body stands dried, almost dead-like, and pale. Both beautiful and dreadful. The woman approaches the frozen scene, taking off the helmet of one of the black knights.

“Tell me, who are you?” the half-half woman asks the immobile Tyr. Snapping her fingers, the scene moves.

“AMBUSH!” a black knight yells as swarms of enemies descend upon them from the tall grass. The two armies clash.

“A warrior,” the half-half woman says.

The scene changes as Tyr holds a mortally wounded friend in his arms. Tears flow from his face.

“Loss of a cherished one,” the half-half woman adds.

The scenes flicker erratically.

“You sleep too much. If you continue like this, you will sleep your way through life,” the black-armored man jests.

“What is it called?” Tyr asks.

“It is called Lake Menetrasi,” the black-armored man says. They continue their journey steadily.

Memories return to Tyr holding his fallen comrade.

“Don’t speak. You can still make it,” a young Tyr says, not believing his own words.

“No. It is over for me, but it is not over for you. Go leave me and next time... next time don’t hesitate.

Promise me you will not hesitate,” the dying man says as he tightly grips Tyr’s arm.

“I promise,” a young Tyr says.

“Who are you?” the half-half woman asks.

“I am death. I am death incarnate. Those who look at the eyes of death. Shall know eternal darkness,” Tyr yells.

The memories of fighting and blood swirl out of control.

Tyr meets Patrick at the tavern in one and the other he watches Patrick die. He meets Shaphas and watches Olaf’s burial.

“Tell me, who are you?” the half-half woman asks.

“I am death...” Tyr says as the memories turn to him as a child. He holds himself shivering all alone in the darkness.

“So that is who you are,” the half-half woman says approaching the scared, trembling child.

Crimson red covers his memories; Tyr lies sleeping in the Pale leaned on one of the giant trees. He shakes with a grim expression on his face.

Endless snowflakes stand frozen in time on a black night, glimmering.

“Who are you?” the half-half woman asks, snapping her fingers as the memory moves.

Snow falls on a little dark-skinned child as the cold embraces him. He holds his hand up, waiting, hoping, pleading. The woman stands next to him observing as the child begs for food.

He pleads as a helping hand approaches wearing priest robes.

The scene changes. She hears screams coming from a locked door.

“Lost innocence,” the half-half woman says.

The memory changes to a young man looking at the blue flame; always looking. He is warm.

“Tell me, who are you?” the half-half woman asks approaching the young adult focused on the changing flame.

“I am the chosen of Aion,” Shaphas yells.

Shaphas stands upon a bludgeoned body of a priest as blood drips from his mace. The scene changes to him leaving the burning church as he looks back he makes a sign of a mirrored upside-down seven.

“Praise be to Aion. The flames of Aion shall purge you in forgiveness and... fire,” Shaphas says, walking away.

His memories fluctuate as he fights the faceless black monster, Northmen, and the innocent and guilty alike. Shaphas walks through the lands of Ferro searching... always searching. He talks to his newly found comrades... he laughs.

A young boy burns his face as the priest enters the room looking at the disfigured boy with a shocked expression; the boy smiles.

“Who are you!” the half-half woman commands.

Two men stand; one boy, one adult. Young Shaphas trembles with his eyes closed while the adult Shaphas watches over him; a wall of blue flame covers them from all sides.

“So that is who you are,” the half-half woman says walking through the blue flame. The memory burns in bright blue as Shaphas remains sleeping and shaking on a tree of the Pale forest.

A bolt stands frozen in the air amongst the green grass and trees; on one side stands Ulric with his crossbow aimed at his prey, on the other a wild deer eating nuts.

“What is your story?” the half-half woman asks approaching the hunter softly caressing his arm; she snaps her fingers as the memory unfreezes.

The bolt flies hitting the deer in the heart. It dies.

Ulric sits alone on a campfire under the bright lights of the night moon roasting meat in silence; the woman stands near him, but he cannot see her.

“Alone!” the half-half woman says.

The scene flickers as the scenery changes.

Ulric stalks an old woman as she prepares various herbs; he jumps out with sword in hand.

“Die, witch!” Ulric yells.

“Wait! I am not...” the old woman stops mid-sentence as the sword impales and slays her. Memories change from battles where he fights dangerous opponents to those of murder, but there is always death.

“Show me,” the half-half woman says.

Ulric’s memories switch and change. He walks alone; he walks with his comrades, killing, fighting, surviving... suffering. A young boy never approved by his father or brothers.

“Who are you?” the half-half woman asks.

“I am the chosen of the Moon. I am its knight!” Ulric yells.

“No! Show me who you are!” the half-half woman commands.

The memory flickers. It is dark. A young Ulric sits on a wooden log under the Moon carving a piece of wood; long strings connect his body to the moon. The half-half woman approaches the child as she looks at him; the child is trying to carve a name in the crossbow, but the name fades away. She notices something else. There is a hole where his heart should be. Young Ulric turns to her.

“I can’t feel anything,” the boy cries.

“Broken,” the half-half woman says as the memory gets engulfed in light and vanishes. Ulric lies asleep in the pale forest as tears flow through his eyes.

The frozen moment stands in the city of Union; a little girl holding on to a piece of fruit, a perint, and a small boy with long hair lying on the ground as an elderly man is beating them. The half-half woman walks through them, observing the situation.

“Show me,” the half-half woman says, snapping her finger; the memory moves.

“You little thieves!” the elderly man yells, kicking the children on the ground; he takes the fruit back.

“Ya okay, Noname?” the boy asks.

“Imma good,” the young Noname responds.

They rise, dusting themselves off.

“Dammit! We failed,” young Harry says, kicking the air in frustration.

“Whattcha talkin’ bout’, Harry?” Noname asks with a smug face as she pulls out another perint; they smile.

The memories flicker from their youth to their adulthood; it stops. Harry enters the room- bald.

“Whatccha did ta ya self?” Noname screams.

“Mah hair was bothering me. Isn’t dis better?” Harry asks.

“Looks stupid. Where is ya hair? Ya used to have loads of hair, ya was hairy now, bald like a stone,” Noname paces back and forth as if she is personally insulted.

“Come on, Noname. It ain’t dat bad?” Harry asks.

“Shaddup!” Noname yells.

The scene flickers to Noname holding the headless body of her friend.

“Who are you?” the half-half woman asks.

The memory changes as a mature woman brings a baby to an orphanage; crying, she leaves it. Air distorts as the scene changes. Noname sleeps in a jail cell as a cloaked man approaches her; he brands her with magic.

“The apprentice?” the half-half woman blurts out with surprise.

The woman walks away as she snaps her fingers.

In the middle of darkness, a young girl runs back and forth.

“Wolf! Wolf! Death to the queen!” young Noname yells as she searches while her right eye twitches and her finger flips.

“What are you looking for?” the half-half woman asks approaching the little girl.

“I lost it! I have to find it!” the girl yells as she continues to search through the darkness.

“Stolen life,” the half-half woman says looking at the running girl.

Darkness swallows the memory as Noname lies sleeping, as her right eye twitches and her finger flips.

“Death to the Queen!” Noname blurts out in her sleep.

Lights reflect from the small crystal-covered city, making it glimmer in an unusual beauty on the outside; in the inside expressions of dread frozen in time. Melione stands in the middle, looking. The half-half woman approaches.

“Tell me, who are you?” the half-half woman asks.

“Hello. My name is Melione,” Melione responds, turning to her; the half-half woman takes a step back in surprise.

“You? You can see me?” the half-half woman asks in shock.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to see you,” Melione responds with a gentle smile.

“How can this be?” the half-half woman asks, approaching her and putting a hand on her chest.

The voices whisper.

“Wake up!” One yells.

“Why should we?” Two asks.

“This woman! She is not of this life,” One warns.

“Not of this life?” Melione asks, looking at the half-half woman.

“I understand all! I see who you are! I can see inside you,” the half-half woman says.

“Inside me?” Melione asks.

“You are blind! You are deceived and lied to,” the half-half woman says.

“I’m not blind, I can see,” Melione responds.

“You can see but you cannot see, for darkness covers your mind and soul. She covers it with lies,” the half-half woman says.

“Don’t listen to her. She is dangerous,” One yells.

“You are not One! Who are you?” Two asks.

“Silence!” One yells as Two screams in pain.

“You?” Two whimperingly adds as it screams.

“What are you doing?” Melione asks.

“It is...” Two speaks as the voice vanishes.

“She is here,” the half-half woman adds.

The memory breaks as pictures decompose in a million tiny fragments,

floating up to the air and vanishing.

“My dream?” Melione says trying to hold on to the decomposing crystalized people in the village.

“Wake up and leave now,” One commands.

“I don’t want to leave, I want to...” Melione speaks as she gets cut off.

“LEAVE!” One commands as the memory flickers and the decomposition hastens.

“I cannot keep you here for she is too strong. I am but a fleeting shadow now. Remember the name of the darkness that covers you. That covers all of you,” the half-half woman.

“Its name?” Melione asks as her body floats upwards; the half-half woman grabs her hand, preventing her from ascending with the breaking dream.

“For the brief company I received, I shall help you. Her name is Hekate,” the half-half woman says, letting go of Melione’s arm as she plummets up with the fragments into oblivion; she wakes!

“Wake them up and leave!” One commands.

“Where is Two?” Melione asks.

“There is only One!” One answers.

Noname walks towards her sleeping comrades, waking them up one by one.

The faces of suffering greet her as living the worst and the deepest nightmare takes its toll. Tyr wakes, shivering, Noname’s eye twitches uncontrollably, Ulric’s eye water with tears as he remains clueless, and Shaphas wakes shaking with pain and anger.

“I must purge this evil forest!” Shaphas yells in anger as the flashback of his youth in the church emerges.

Without thought or consideration, he pulls out all of his liquids, mixing them as possessed.

“What are you doing?” Tyr asks; Shaphas returns an ear-to-ear creepy smile.

“Wait! You don’t plan to...” Tyr speaks as he stops. Shaphas sets the liquids ablaze in the azure flame. The giant burst of Aion’s flame spreads the fire at an unimaginable speed.

“Ya wanna burn us alive?” Noname yells.

“RUN!” Ulric yells as the party makes their way through the forest.

The dry forest easily spreads the blue flames as the fire spreads even faster at an unreal pace.

“Couldn’t you waited for us to leave?” Tyr yells while running; Shaphas only response is that of a continuous manic laugh.

“Why is the fire spreading so fast?” Ulric adds, looking back.

“Shaddup and run!” Noname yells.

The party runs as the fire grows closer. Suddenly, they leave the Pale forest, jumping out of it to the cold winter snow.

Tyr stands as he approaches Shaphas.

“Next time wait for us to leave first,” Tyr angrily says.

Shaphas stands looking at the burning forest; he makes a sign of a mirrored upside-down seven.

“Praise be to Aion for he gives fire and forgiveness,” Shaphas chants looking at the blue flames in a trance, ignoring everything else.

Tyr grunts before moving away.

“What now?” Ulric asks.

“Let’s get on with it,” Tyr responds, gazing at a tall spiky black tower in the distance.

“There is a darkness that covers us,” Melione adds.

“Ya there is! It is from that crazy burn-man and setting da forest on da fire,” Noname says, looking at the smoke rising in the air as she shakes her head in disbelief.

The party continues its way as the Pale lies behind them. Suddenly, in the white forest, a gentle melody appears. With it, the fire gets sucked unto itself and it extinguishes. The tall trees regenerate returning to their original form. The half-half woman stands looking at the distance with a transparent body.

“I hope you find your way for our kind brings nothing but misery,” the half-half woman says as she vanishes.