Chapter 20

The Errant

A hazy muttering was in Vivian’s ear, annoying her. She just wanted to sleep! Was that so much to ask? The warmth around her body made it so easy to keep herself in dreamland, and the exhaustion on the rest of her body continued that urge. She rolled over, and her semi-conscious mind recognized that she had rolled into something, causing her eyes to open. She was looking straight at Emil.

It wasn’t a sight she wanted to look at upon first awakening.

“Hold still, Vivian.” The mothering voice of Emily convinced the girl to stop struggling, and she was turned on her back. The warmth cocooned her once again. Wanting to see what was going on, Vivian looked up, a strain on her entire body while she did so. Her mind caught up to what her present eyes were seeing, filling her in.

They were far down the mineshaft, on the fourth level if the number of, admittedly destroyed, rings was any indication of how far they’d fallen. The lights that once ringed the place were shattered or flashing erratically. The level directly above them was gone, too, with only thin cables that appeared to support the lift that ascended and descended through the place being intact. Their fights had done a number on the mineshaft, and she wondered if they’d be able to get back up when the battle was finished.

“You two took a hell of a beating.” That was Amelia’s voice. Vivian propped her body up on her elbows, now realizing in full detail that she and Emil weren’t alone. Everyone was on the fourth level with them. Bruce and Trent were attempting to work the lift, concealed by the general shadow that the light from the Great Soul cast upon this section. Jay and Rico, meanwhile, looked to have taken over supervision of the priests, all while Amelia and Emily stood over the duo, the latter healing their wounds to the best of her abilities. Her general sluggishness showed it taking a toll on her. “Fighting Cynthia can’t have been easy.”

“But we did it…” Emil groaned out. He was awakening as well, now. His wounds were unhealed as yet, though not as extensive as Vivian’s felt. They were getting better from Emily’s work, but didn’t dull the ache of bruises and pains.

“That you did. I can’t offer any praises that wouldn’t seem disingenuous.” Vivian took that to mean they’d done well.

“How…how long were we out?” she managed to grunt out. Emily’s hands were moving to another place on her body, and the blonde lifted the upper part of robes to see that the damage was healed over, scarring the surface of her stomach and calf a little.

“Not long. You think I’d let you peons sleep for long?” Amelia chortled out. A sudden tremor rocked the mineshaft, putting Amelia into a crouch while their bodies vibrated. “What the hell is going on…? These tremors and collapses have only gotten worse. And where’s Childs?”

“We sent her down. For all we know, she’s facing Marcus right now,” Emil answered. He had pushed himself against the wall, recapturing his breath. Emily finished her healing work on Vivian, giving a tired sigh at the end to indicate the exhaustion of such extensive work. Vivian thanked her before she moved on to Emil.

The boy’s statement drew a sudden cackle from the other side of the ring, followed by a sharp smack to the back of its creator’s head.

“Marcus would destroy her!” Maria continued laughing, finding it the funniest thing in the world. Vivian stood, unsteady but flashing a glare across to the woman. She was bound, as were the rest of the priests, but it didn’t stop the rebellious streak, or the infuriating jingling of earrings as Maria’s head shook back and forth. “She’s a little girl who was devastated by her best friend kicking the bucket. Marcus is made of more than fluff.”

“You underestimate Meredith Childs,” Vivian shouted across to them. Another rumble, this one worse than before, shuddered the ring. It distorted Maria’s continued laughter and defiance.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Maria’s head tilted to the side, her lopsided smirk dividing her face. “It’s almost over. The world’s on the final stage, and this place is falling apart. Marcus is about to win no matter what she does. I doubt any of us are getting out of here alive.”

“And you’d willingly choose that?” Rico asked her. Next to her, both Caleb and Cynthia remained passed out, the damage they’d taken keeping them down for the count. Maria’s glittering eyes scared Vivian from across the way when she looked to her former comrade (or tool). “You’d put your life on the line and never turn from that ideal?”

“Of course, Rico! There’s nothing to be gained unless it’s your soul on the line!” she shouted. There was another rattle, and Vivian found herself falling with Amelia. Stones cracked in the wall, raining dust on them. The uppermost level remained secure, but from where they stood, Vivian felt like the whole world was just going to disappear beneath their feet. “I threw my lot in a long time ago. How about you? Got any skin in the game? Because that’s the only way you’re going to win!

“Let’s all go to the end of the world together!”

“Shut up, apocalypse girl. Take a nap.” Jay kicked her from behind, shutting the woman up at last. Her head fell forward, finally falling unconscious. The lieutenant puffed up air. “Commander, what now?”

“What else, Jarvis?” Amelia indicated. She was beginning to stand once more, and Vivian latched on to her. “We get down below. There’s no way we can let Childs fight this war on her own, no matter how strong her soul is. He’s still a peerless master of combat.”

“And these thre-”

If Jay had had time to finish his sentence, Vivian doubted that anything would have changed. Nothing would be different from where he started, and where he ended, but to Vivian, when she had the moment, she wished it was just a little different.

Her mind was overwhelmed as Jay stopped asking. Vivian’s hands fell to her side, and an insistent voice entered her. Not just in her mind, though; right to her core, that singular emotion was inside her. She didn’t want to fight anymore. Right now, she had to lay down any intentions of harboring violence. She had to get back up to the top, to her father, and help form a defense group, enlisting the people of town that had looked to Lacroix Manor.

The itching inside her wouldn’t stop until she managed to do this. It was her new will.

Vivian’s feet began to move, the others with her as they approached Bruce and Trent. The duo was bringing the lift down for them to board, to get back up to the surface. It was a few feet above their level when the platform shook.

The jostling brought sense to Vivian, and she took hold of her head. Just like before, it was as if her whole body was taken over, led in one direction by one person. It made her feel filthy inside, and defiled.

“Everyone, grab on to something!” Amelia’s shout, now back to her own senses, told Vivian that they were about to enter a worse situation. She looked around, but despite Amelia’s orders, there was nothing to grab hold of, except for the cables. Bruce and Trent did exactly that, but the rest of them weren’t so lucky.

There was snapping and cracking, the bolts and rivets holding the platform in place buckling under the newest and extended tremor. The half opposite their group was the first to come away from the wall entirely. The unconscious priests upon it wobbled, until the entire half flipped over, sending them plummeting into the unknown depths below. Not that they could think about their enemies falling to their, hopeful in Vivian’s opinion, death. Their own part of the platform was shuddering with such violence, she was lucky she didn’t vomit like Meredith.

Said rumbling soon stopped, making all eight of them feel safe. Bruce and Trent even high-fived about having made it through…when the stone of the mineshaft made a horrible cracking noise.

In the darkness and dim lighting, Vivian’s eyes widened with horror. There was a large crack running up the side of the mineshaft, threatening to split in two. It didn’t reach the upper echelons of the shaft, but where it didn’t go upwards, it began to split the seams at the side. With the third level gone from their fight, Vivian knew they had even less support holding things intact. It became worse as that fracture reached their platform.

Then it tilted, one side of its supports shattering from the stress upon it. Vivian tried to mill her limbs about like it would grant her the friction to stay holding on, but that wasn’t the case. She slid along with everyone else. Bruce and Trent kept on their cable, calling for the six of them that fell, but their voices were soon lost as they dropped.

“Emil, your gravity!”

“I’m all out of magic right now!” he shouted back. They were freefalling down another level, and the structure of the mineshaft was changing. Broken metal almost impeded their fall, but Vivian felt her body and everyone else’s slowly drifting towards Rico. “Oh, that’s right! You can use my magic with Soul Siphon!”

“There’s a walkway there! Land on it!” Amelia told Rico. The man nodded, keeping them close as they aimed to make landing on the small strip of solid ground they could find. Vivian wondered if this would hold for long at all. A gust of wind slowed their fall as soon as she thought that, and they tumbled on the bridge that spanned two sides of the spiral walkway. Vivian grimaced at her body’s insistence to feel pain, but she looked up and blinked with surprise.

They weren’t alone.

“Captain…?” Emily and Jay’s voices were surprised to find him right there in front of them. They crawled on their knees, their hesitant actions showing that they believed him to be an illusion. Vivian knew it wasn’t. Raymond was bleeding from his face, with various cuts along his body, and she knew before any of them what had happened.

“Where is she?” Emil asked before she could get it out. He was up, stomping along the bridge to grab Raymond and haul him up. The Tempest Squad lieutenants gasped but didn’t stop him. Vivian was quickly joining Emil. “Where’s Mera?!”

“She…she went down alone…to face Marcus…”

“And why the hell aren’t you with her?” Emil roared. He was, perhaps, angrier than Vivian ever knew him being, including all of his misplaced rage towards his parents. “You’re her brother, aren’t you? You’re supposed to protect her, right? Why the hell would you let her go alone?”

“I…I’m just…”

“Emil, it’s okay.” Emily’s voice was too calm. Too kind for Vivian to stomach. Knowing the siblings had fought, and that Raymond had let her walk alone infuriated her. She didn’t want Emily to go light, or to take Emil’s hands from the confused piece of crap that called himself Raymond Childs. Vivian let her, though, the lieutenant putting herself between the teens and Raymond. “Captain…you dumbass.”

She was swifter than any of them could have hoped. No sooner had she caressed his face than she sunk a fist in his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Jay was there, too, punching his former captain straight across the jaw.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Raymond?!” Emily shouted. He appeared to come to his senses, realizing his lieutenant was remonstrating him as both friend and fellow Guardian. “How did you let this happen? How did you join Marcus?”

“I don’t even know anymore, Em…I wanted something better…something…”

“More?” Jay scoffed. “Man, you are such a dumbass, Ray. Weren’t we enough for you? Wasn’t Tempest Squad enough? You didn’t need to go try and change the whole world. If we weren’t doing right, all you needed to do was guide us, and talk to us.”

“I told you, captain. Don’t you remember? I said that no matter what, you could talk to us and we’d work it out. That even if we doubted the path ahead, we could work it out together.” This time she was softer, and Emily’s hands touched her captain’s face. His eyes, clouded with doubt, cleared for a moment. “Do you still trust in that, Ray? Do you still trust in us?”

Raymond’s eyes slipped to the side, watching Jay, before they settled on Vivian and Emil. He looked ready to cry before he could answer Emily. “Trust is what got me here, Em. I trusted in his world, but it’s the kind of world where I…I hurt her…I hurt you…”

“And?” Emily kept holding him, pulling him closer until their noses were touching. “So, you hurt us. You’ll have to pay that back, Raymond. But it doesn’t mean you can’t keep going. If your sister, who lost so much, could walk on…why can’t you?”

“Or is the world we’ve got not enough anymore?”

Jay’s question was the one cutting to the heart of the matter. It had a tangible effect in Raymond’s eyes, the distraught expression washing over his face as he realized what his lieutenant was telling him. “It is…but how can I…”

Vivian couldn’t stand the sob story. Not anymore. She brushed past him with Emil to make for the spiraling stairs. That action caught his attention, as well as those of Rico and Amelia. There were questions in their eyes, ones which Vivian answered without stopping. “I really don’t care what you do. Fight or don’t fight. It’s none of my business. But I’m helping Mera.”

“Yeah, so, are the rest of you Guardians or what?” Emil asked alongside her. They tapped their fists ready for battle, and he threw his head back once more. “Because the way I see it, that’s what this battle’s about: who are the real Guardians? My money’s on us. So, stay or fight. Choice is yours. We’re fighting.”

Vivian didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see the turmoil that Meredith’s brother was going through. It was irrelevant to her.

But when the movement resumed behind the duo, it wasn’t four sets of steps following. It was five.

The Great Soul was haunting.

Beautiful, but so viscerally haunting that Meredith had to stop and take in its sheer presence. The souls that washed over her felt like they could crush her through their force. Every tiny bit of regret or joy or life experience threatened to overtake her.

It was only held back by the man before her.

The brightness of the Great Soul obscured his form, seated calmly before it. His weapon was out and to his side, while all seven of the Legendary Weapons were strewn about, discarded as no more than trinkets. The pulsing globe that was the Great Soul thrummed with life, casting a white light which drained any other color from the space.

Meredith straightened her shoulders, taking a step forward, off the spiraling staircase. They reached the bottom, and Meredith realized that the tremors which had plagued the mineshaft from above didn’t exist down here. The air changed with the souls, bringing her through a thin, nearly imperceptible barrier while she stepped on the white flooring. It sounded like glass to her, frosted with the design that suggested Crea’s symbol. Meredith had more focus for the one holding her soul, though, and it was towards him that she shuffled.

“I expected Amelia or the Renegade. Even Raymond was an option. His loyalty wouldn’t have lasted forever, much as it pains me.” Marcus talking made her stop. She could barely support her own body, and she was panting. There was a refusal to relent, however, and that made her take another shuffle forward. “But then again, I guess it always had to be you, didn’t it, Meredith?”

The surge of energy around Marcus ceased, and the giant storm of souls seemed to calm out, or maybe grow bigger…Meredith wasn’t sure which it was thanks to its erratic and desperate nature. The former chief commander stopped sitting, whipping around to face her. His eyes were courting madness, but she stepped closer all the same. There was no idea in her brain about what to say, or even if there was anything she could say. Everything she knew about Marcus was still true. It had never changed that he was a man of unflinching conviction and strength. She’d simply not known where that conviction was directed.

Just as soon as she thought it, Marcus’s hands trembled and clenched, clawing at his chest.

“They’re hurting you…keeping all those souls inside…” she breathed. He heard her amidst that tempest of souls. His eyes conveyed their ferociousness, the glare telling her to back off. “Your soul is too broken to contain them.”

“The world is broken. What’s my soul if I repair the greater one?”

Meredith shook her head, her legs sending her to the side by a few inches. He noticed. “This way…this way doesn’t do it.”

“And what better suggestion do you have, Meredith? Hm?” He was truly asking her, as if deep down he wanted to be freed of this maddening need to save things. To be free of the pain inside. Perhaps his mind didn’t realize it, but his soul did.

“I don’t know…” she whispered. Marcus nodded, understanding, but soon he scoffed.

“No one does. You all talk of how wrong I am, but have nothing better. You all try to stop me, but lack the strength.” Marcus emitted a tiny breath, as if they were two people sitting down and discussing this all over tea. “Isn’t it possible I’m right? The people need to be reined in, and only I have the conviction strong enough to see it through. I can’t be content with just watching the sea, hoping for a change. I can’t be content watching the tides of fate rip us all apart. I have to fix it, as a Guardian.”

He wasn’t lying, but Meredith knew that. After all the horrors he’d inflicted and the atrocities he’d committed, deep down, Marcus was still devoted to the people. He still wanted to help them most of all. His ways had become utterly tangled, and for this, Meredith found a piece of her pitying him, wondering just how it all went wrong. She thought back to Rico, how everything had been torn away, driving him further and further to extremism, and to this, she put forth a question for Marcus.

“What happened to you, Marcus?” she said. He blinked, not understanding. “What drove you to do all this? What did you lose to-?”

“Nothing.” Meredith took her turn to blink. Her adversary faced away from her, peering into the depths of the Great Soul that washed over them. “I was like you: a magic-less child born into a small, seaborne town. I had loving parents, and a simple life. I, too, had that simple dream of becoming a Guardian because I wanted to see what was beyond the sea and what greatness it could give to our world. I never lost a member of my squad. I never suffered heartache.

“But I saw all of my fellow Guardians, lost in their cloying need for superiority and safety. The people’s need to rely on them as a crutch. Beyond was never enough. I wanted, no, the world needed more.”

Marcus’s assertion rang about the bubble they were in. It explained so much, and to it, Meredith laughed. She received his attention, confused as to why she found this all funny when she started shaking her head. When it stopped, she looked at Marcus, the man she’d once so admired, and smiled. “You know what I think? I think you were scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yes. Scared,” she told him. “You were afraid of the slightest thing out of place. Afraid of failing.”

“Humans do nothing but fail.”

“Yes, we do. But we also grow from that failure. Even when we’re drowning in the pits of despair, we pull ourselves back out and try again.” A loud noise echoed above. Something was falling, but she didn’t know what, her eyes trained on Marcus, unwilling to blink. “But you didn’t want to fail. You were afraid to accept that maybe you had. So, you did it all yourself from that fear of accepting what reality is, because others might have told you that you were wrong. You didn’t want to rely on others.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked. The question didn’t rattle her. It didn’t even make her look up to what was falling, crashing through top of their bubble. Three figures, all slumped together, were cushioned by the protective shield, dropping in a corner. Marcus spared them a glance, wavering disappointment causing his lips to spasm. “I worked with the Order, and with my priests and commanders.”

“No, you didn’t,” Meredith said, shaking her head even more. Her hair flew around, but she never lost sight of Marcus. “You used them to further your will. You picked people who would never question you. Cultivated loyalty that abided by you. Stole souls and forced them under your control like your own personal playthings. You never wanted to work with someone else because it meant a failure on your part…when ironically, that’s your biggest failure of all…”

“Again, Meredith, what would you do were you in my position?” he asked. This time, she could hear him pleading for her to answer him. He wondered if she had a different way…but she knew he would never believe there was any other. “You could hear the souls, too. We were the only ones who knew the damage that had been done. How else could you have fixed it?”

“I would have…” Meredith’s hand trailed down, touching to the blade on her belt, remembering what it meant to her, and who had given it. She recalled who had stuck by her. “I would have trusted in those around me to guide me. I wouldn’t make my own path, disregarding them in the process.”

“They’d leave everything up to you. You’d still be the one to decide.”

“No. You only think that because you surrounded yourselves with people who let you do whatever you wanted as long as it meant they found the kind of peace they wanted,” Meredith insisted. Her hand wrapped around her sword, taking another trembling step forward while the Great Soul reacted. “Take a look, Marcus. Those priests you ‘trusted’ were the same ones you didn’t give a damn about. They’re right there, and you haven’t spared them one glance. That’s the way to create a fake world full of fake smiles. You’re not protecting anyone. You’re just fulfilling your own vain ambition, long grown out of your control. You’re running away from reality.”

“How is that any different from you?”

“Because I’m not deluding myself,” she huffed out. Talking was becoming a strain on her, and she could feel the rising intent within Marcus. He was ready to strike. “I know I’m nowhere near perfect. I get scared all the time. I get sick any time I ride a skyship. I’m not as strong as my brother…heck, I’m not even as strong as Vivian. My plans don’t always work, and I crumbled to pieces when you took my dream from me…when you took Eddie from me…

“But I’m not alone. When I fell down, Viv pulled me up. When I was wrong, Eddie told me. When I was lost, Emil would sometimes find me. When I was weak, Amelia would train me. When I felt so alone…Rico reminded me that I’m not. Knowing all of that, taking in all of those pieces and reminding ourselves of our capacity for failure as we step toward the future…that way, I think…

“I think we could make something truly meaningful and genuine.”

She could see Marcus’s cheekbones moving, his throat swallowing at her words. She was certain he hadn’t listened to it. He didn’t want to. “Meaningful? Genuine? We tried to do that with the trials, and it begot us nothing.”

“Again, you’re wrong. You gave nothing.” Punctuating her statement, she took her sword off her belt and held it up to his level. Her fingers could barely grip it, but still she stood against the one that had made her a crippling mess. Inside, his souls swarmed and seethed, giving Marcus that pause in which he was unable to refute her. “You say you tried to change the Corps, but you still kept letting in people that didn’t fit your ideal. You wanted to make things better, but you sat there and let it get worse until you felt justified in tearing it down. That’s all you’ve been doing, Marcus.”

“You need to tear things down to be left with an ideal world.”

“But the world isn’t ideal! How have you not gotten that yet?!” she shouted. It hurt her throat, but she couldn’t stay silent about this. Not yet. “No matter how hard you try, there’s always going to be an imperfection. We’re still going to think different things. Do different things. We’re still going to be wrong. Even if we look at ourselves as paragons of what a Guardian should be, we can’t think ourselves and our thoughts alone are enough to make that true. Reality…it’ll always remind us how that isn’t true.”

“Are your own ideals so flimsy that you’d abandon them, then?” Marcus’s query should have hurt. It should have made her doubt herself. Had she been where she was a month ago, she would have told him that they indeed were.

Right now, they weren’t.

“No. I’ve just checked them against reality,” she said. Her second arm lifted, gripping tightly to her weapon. She was about to run out of words, and he knew it. “I’m not abandoning what I believe in…but what I believe in isn’t real. Once I reconciled that, I knew. That’s why I’m standing between you and the world, Marcus. I won’t let one man who can’t see past this obsessive ideal he created take everything from us. I will fight, Reaper.”

Marcus stood there, just watching her, and then his hand summoned his sword back into it. “Very well. We are at an impasse. I will succeed, but I’ll take a moment to remind you of reality first. Your will cannot surpass my own. Come.”

He made the first move. His body blitzed with the speed of light that Marcus had been well-known for. Before she could blink, he was on her, and she didn’t have the dexterity to block the fullness of his blow. She was pushed back, the sparks off their grinding swords scattering on her exposed skin. Digging her foot in, she threw him off to swing around. With one hand, he deflected the attack, and his other pressed down, the gravity immobilizing her. He released it before he kicked at her, sending her flying back.

Meredith skidded along the ground, using her sword to stop herself before she ran at Marcus. Her sword switched itself in her hand while she dashed to his side. He kept her in his sights, taunting her with his eyes. He knew she had nothing to use, letting her come to him. Once behind him, she used all her speed to reach his back and slash. His blade was thrown back, his hand striking for her chest in the ever-familiar spell.

“Dark Ga-” Marcus’s spell faltered, surprise written in his eyes. The momentary distraction was enough for Meredith to jab forward, clipping his side before he struck the blow away. Meredith lunged for him, hand outstretched and hearing all of the souls inside him. Marcus retaliated with a swift kick to her chin. She spat blood, her teeth tingling uncomfortably.

“Those souls…you’re burning them up…aren’t you…?” He didn’t answer. His sword thrust forward and she blocked it before attempting her own. He parried it aside, the two locked in an endless struggle. That was how it felt to Meredith, but she knew she couldn’t last forever. Already, her body was being pushed back, closer to the Great Soul. Its power was immense, burning at her while her arms shook under strain. “Before long, you won’t have all those fancy tricks to fight us…how’s your soul, Marcus?”

If he was struggling, he didn’t show it. His teeth were gritted, but other than that, his swift strikes were enough for her to contend with. Meredith twirled her sword, switching up her hold long enough to keep herself going. Her foot hit one of the Legendary Weapons, its soul calling to her, but she couldn’t respond.

Marcus made an uppercut, one which she barely dodged. He left himself wide open, and with it, she made the attempt. Her sword drove forward, piercing Marcus’s side as her hand made for his chest, prepared to expel the souls from within.

Her fingers were mere inches from him when she felt warmth on her chest.

She looked down.

Marcus’s blade had impaled her straight through. It had all been a ploy, and she fell for it. Meredith coughed, spitting up blood. The pain was secondary. She barely even felt it at the warm tide of blood soaking her chest. Her hand fell with no resistance, her eyes trailing up to Marcus’s pitiless ones. Or maybe there was some pity. Or compassion.

Meredith didn’t know. Her mind was going blank. He took his blade out, stepping back.

At the edge of their dueling site, people had gathered, finally making it down to their level. They watched, unable to do anything. Vivian screamed something, but the blood in her ears prevented it from being heard. Emil tried to run forward.

The fastest one was Raymond, dashing at his former leader with tears in his eyes and a name on his lips.

“MERA!”

She tried to reach out one more time, tried to say something, yet found nothing but death. The Reaper put a hand on her head.

“I’m sorry. Farewell.”

Then, Marcus kicked Meredith’s dying body, sending her into the Great Soul from whence there was no return.