Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 4: Covenant, Chapter Eighteen: "Covenant part 3 Grace, the Divine, and the End"

Chapter Eighteen: Covenant part 3 Grace, the Divine, and the End

 

Shana couldn’t move.  She dropped the covenant and collapsed to the ground beside it.  There, she sat panting even while Alex approached.  She watched, wide-eyed and weak, as Alex and Abel traded words.  Then, she watched, impotent and frightened as a child, as they came to blows.  It happened instantly, Alex’s wide lunge missing entirely and her back exploding after.  Blood and bone poured from the wound.  Motionless and taut, time froze in a tense silence.  Abel withdrew, his spear head receding like a storm cloud.  Alex jerked forward and, without the support, fell.

The silence lifted, and Shana screamed.  She screamed shrill and high, and though she could feel it raw in her throat, she could hardly believe it was her own voice.  Outside of her body, she watched herself claw at the dust and willed her legs to move but couldn’t.  Locked in place, she watched Alex fall, revealing Abel and his blood-stained spear to full view.

Alex lay motionless, her body becoming a bloody smear of limbs and little else.  She didn’t even breathe.  Her eyes were glassy and pale, turned toward the dust, unmoving, unblinking as Abel stepped over her.

Ellen stood to meet him.  She stepped forward, and Shana’s vision was obscured by long legs and thin arms.  Though she looked in better health than the others around her, Ellen was still pale.  She extended her arms and stood before Abel, rooted like a tree.  To Shana, she looked more like a child staring down a tornado.

Abel stopped and angled his spear up and toward her.  The blood gathering at the tip reversed and left a thin red line across his fingers.  “Move,” he said.

Ellen glared back at him.  “No.  I don’t really understand any of this, but I know one thing: I won’t let you take her.”

“Fine.”  He moved again, and it was as fluid as before.  From standing, Abel put all of himself into the thrust.  His spear was a precise, deadly flash of liquid red and gleaming silver.

Shana’s spine tickled.  A voice whispered into her ear.  Sad, anxious, and urgent, it reminded her of how Alex died and begged her to intervene.  Shana agreed, and this time she moved, too.  Heart’s Song appeared in her hand and, spinning, she caught Abel’s spearhead and knocked it off course.  Her arms ached.  Hitting his spear was, in her mind, the equivalent of hitting a semi with a baseball bat, but she managed to knock his thrust off by just under a foot.

Abel hardly seemed to notice.  He simply continued his movement, spiraling around and lunging again.

 

: Covenant :

 

Isaac waited until Crest’s body was gone, watching it fade into the twilight until nothing was left of it, not even the shadows.  He had hoped that it would give him some comfort, but Crest’s passing left him with nothing more than a growing hole in his heart.  What hurt most was how much easier it had been to kill a second time.

He started toward the cliffs, toward where Abel’s overwhelming presence loomed.  Within the maelstrom of power, he could feel the tiny specks, the droplets of strength tossed about by the storm that raged around them.  He could feel Ellen within that, an absence of power, utterly normal and without safety.  He could feel his mother as well, still guarded but with the door to her heart now opened a fraction more than it once had been.

The canyon wall was flat and high.  Ignoring his fatigue, Isaac gathered his breath and started the climb up.  He used his chakrams, stabbing their bladed edges into the sheer surface and used his feet to hold him in place.  His arms ached, but he pulled himself up a few feet at a time.

The raging battle above him escalated.  Two powers clashed and one was swallowed and snuffed.  Adrenaline pushed him through his fatigue and drove him higher through his exhaustion.  With a final grunt, he lifted himself up onto the flatten crest of the canyon’s crown.  He arrived to find Abel, a giant of a man, bearing down upon a voluptuous blonde he did not recognize, who stood between Abel and his intended target, Ellen.  Deidra and Cornelius watched from the side, looking impotent before Abel’s undeniable might.

Abel moved more quickly than Isaac could follow.  His Voice howled, splitting the wind with each thrust.  Isaac, without time to hesitate, poured himself into his Voice and threw, shouting the words which came to him from his heart.

Sun rising red, a screaming soul of fire burning the sky!

His chakram flashed with red flame and sparked on contact with Abel’s spear.  It hit with enough force to deter the next incoming thrust before spiraling off and embedding itself into the ground.  The tension in the air eased and everyone fixed their gazes on Isaac’s entry.  Abel eyes were hollow without whatever he poured into Crest to give them light. 

Ellen, on the other hand, brightened at his appearance. “Isaac!”  She allowed a small, tired smile to blossom on her face. 

The woman before her chanced only a glance but didn’t linger.  She instead lifted her hammer and planted her feet in front of Ellen.  “Now it’s four on one!  If we work together, we can take him!” As she spoke, she stepped in toward him, swinging hard and bringing her hammer around toward Abel’s head.  He sidestepped before the blow could land and lunged as he retreated.

The attack was interrupted.  Cornelius intercepted, planting his feet and swinging for Abel’s torso.  Abel had to respond quickly to block the attack, twirling his spear around and using the dark wooden shaft to catch Cornelius’ blade.  Time froze with their weapons locked as everyone held their breath, and then Abel gave a gentle shove and sent Cornelius stumbling.

And thus He spoke, and the weight of His words shall crush you.

Shana closed distance and attacked from the side.  The front of her Voice shined like the dawn.  She meant to knock Abel’s head clean from his shoulders, but her swing was slow and far too wide.  Abel ducked under and aimed his spear at her abdomen as he stood.

The spearpoint stopped inches away from her flesh, the air screeching around it like steel on steel.  Deidra stood, arms raised, wincing and shaking under the strain of her barrier.  Isaac, seeing the distraction, recalled his chakram and staggered forward.  The battle below and the climb after had worn him thin.  Even with the adrenaline pounding in his temples, he felt slow and struggled for breath.  Gathering his strength, he heaved a chakram at Abel’s throat to end it quickly but missed.

As Isaac’s chakram sailed by, Abel tilted his head and allowed another attack from Cornelius to pass with similar ease.  Momentum carried Cornelius forward, into Abel’s reach.  Abel grabbed him by the arm and tossed him away, spiraling around and between Ellen and Shana and toward Abraham behind them.  Shana followed him, but he stopped hard and caught her with his shoulder. 

The force of their contact knocked Shana’s feet from under her and Abel, using his spear like a catapult, jettisoned her toward the edge of the cliff.  Shana sailed and landed, sliding to a stop with little more than a thin trail of pebbles and dust between her and the canyon floor.  Ellen, meanwhile, put herself back in his path and regretted it.  With no one else between them, she watched Abel’s approach in slow motion, his eyes empty and unfeeling, stopping suddenly only inches from her, a slight shimmer surrounding his body.

Abel grunted and shook before giving a brief glance around. He found Deidra nearby, hands raised and body shining with sweat.  With a concentrated frown, Abel forced his foot forward and the light around him faded.  Deidra fell forward, her barrier was shattered.  He couldn’t move far before Shana returned, leaping toward Abel with her hammer overhead.  This time, he caught her Voice by the haft with his open palm and held her in suspended in the air.  Angling his spearpoint up, he thrust, and the air wailed as his Voice slid off another invisible wall.  Deidra cringed and vomited.

Looking now toward Deidra, Abel tossed Shana aside and returned his attention to Ellen, who now held the covenant and protected it with her body.  He stopped at her side and towered over her as a mountain does an ant.  His Voice gleamed with the remains of Alex’s blood as he stared at her and through her, to the covenant that consumed his focus.  She was nothing to him at this point, not even a corpse.  He lifted his weapon, and he prepared to kill.

 

: Covenant :

 

Wherever Alex went after she died, she wasn’t unhappy.  She felt no pain there, nor hurt, nor sadness, nor loss of any kind.  In fact, she eventually came to realize that she felt nothing at all.  An infinite nothingness surrounded her, a waiting void gaping just beyond her reach with no sense of urgency to reach it.  The void breathed around her in its nothingness, passing in and out of her and through her like the tide.

            Things echoed in the nothingness, reverberating along the void.  They took shape and became the likeness of her, and she became them.  Alex then realized how limited the human perception is, fragmented by sense and experience.  In death, however, she saw the undiluted truth.  Everything was connected, vast, and multifaceted.  This understanding was wasted on her, though, if for no other reason than her being dead.

            “Alex!”  A thought echoed through the void, seeking her.  She felt it, became it, and acknowledged it.

            “Abraham.”  Alex gave this thought form, not by her own will, but by what lingered of her will.  A spark which simply refused to be snuffed.  From nothing, Abraham’s tiny body appeared, wrapped in all colors and also in none of them.  She seemed smaller now, smaller than even before, to the point of being microscopic.  Despite this, Alex could see every aspect of her in fine detail, seeing things now that she didn’t know existed, and she experienced them, also, and she became them, too.

            “You’re dead, Alex.”

            “I know, but that’s fine.  I’ve died before.  What are you, by the way, with all of those colors inside of you?”

            “It’s different this time.  This time, I don’t know that I can save you.”  Every word Abraham spoke gave birth to new things.  Colors formed from the ether, appearing as sounds and tastes both new and unfamiliar.  She seemed somehow guilty, though Alex didn’t understand why.  “Last time, when you were dying in the material realm, I rescued you and pulled you into the Emotion.  Pulling your physical body into a meta-physical plane of existence allowed your soul to draw on the ambient energy of the world around you and heal you.  It used the spiritual energy here in the atmosphere to mend your physical wounds and accelerate your recovery.”

            “I see,” Alex said, and she did.  She saw everything in her enlightenment.  More than that, she understood, too.

            “But these wounds weren’t aren’t just physical.  Your soul has suffered considerable trauma.  That is how it works, in the Emotion.  By being here in between, the damage done to you is similarly two-fold, and this time it might be fatal, because Abel didn’t simply stab your body.  He impaled your soul.”

            If Alex had shoulders, then she would have shrugged.  Her life seemed very far away from her, being less than a grain of sand on the beaches of reality.  By that point, she was hardly even a thought, and she was becoming less with each passing second.  Then, she remembered Shana, and she lingered.  “How are the others?”

            “They are unwell.  By this point, Abel is a monster, hollow and entirely without mercy.  He has no humility, no pride, nothing at all to make him human.”

            “Sounds dead, too.”

            “He is less than that, even, empty in his body and his soul.  He did it so that he could accept me, and he will go through all of them to get to me, if he has to.”

 

: Covenant :

 

            Ellen stood, arms out and eyes forward, her body between Abel and Abraham.  He approached her slowly and without emotion.  Ellen screamed, “I won’t let you take her!”  She tried hard to keep from shaking and failed.  Alex already died in front of her, and the others were struggling to keep pace with him.

            Abel took a step and led with his lance.  Each movement was a blur, but before the blow could land, Isaac appeared in front of her.  He winced in anticipated pain but instead heard the crack of spiritual steel against solid air.  Warmth spread across his back.  He opened his eyes and found Ellen, buried into his shoulder, shaking as she stared ahead.  She had gone pale and stiff.

            She whispered his name as he turned.  Deidra had put herself before him, her body curled forward with broken bone and fresh blood forced from her back by the intrusion of Abel’s spear.  The spearhead jutted well beyond Deidra’s broken body.  The air in front of her shimmered, and she held the shaft of his weapon tight with her bloody hands.  Abel tugged his weapon from her, and she fell backward into Isaac’s waiting arms.  They fell together, Isaac landing on his knees.

            “Why,” he whispered, holding her around the shoulders, forgoing any attempt to save her.  She was gone.  It would be a struggle even to breathe.  He clutched her even more tightly.  “Why would you do that?”

            Deidra smiled and touched his face, her fingers leaving bloody lines across his cheek.  “My shield wouldn’t hold.  I knew that, and I,” she coughed, hard, wet, fatally, “Children shouldn’t die first.”  Then, sadly, as an apology, she said, “I love you, Isaac.”

            “After everything you did, after leaving me alone with him.”  He hugged her, cradling her corpse.  “Now, you’re leaving me again.”

            Nearby, Cornelius screamed and charged Abel with his blade up and gleaming in the twilight.  Isaac watched them meet, and a single, short lunge ended it all.  Abel caught Cornelius in the face with his spearpoint and pinned him to the earth.  His head went one way, his body the other.  Then, Abel turned to them, covered in blood, expressionless.  “We are done now,” he said, and he took another step forward.

            This time Shana intercepted him, jaw tight and Voice ready.  Like Alex before her, she was now willing to give her life to save Abraham.

 

: Covenant :

 

            “I am sorry, Alex, but I need to ask you for another favor.”

            Abraham spoke with urgency, and Alex could feel it in her words. “Okay.”

            “At this rate it might be impossible to save you, but I can send you back for a time, and when I do, I need you to deliver a message for me.  Tell them to stop, to give me over to Abel.”

            Alex listened without judgement, save for a small part of her still tethered to her body.  This will be her way back, when Abraham is ready to send her, but it is also what caused her to hesitate.  This small part of her recoiled at the thought of surrendering to the man who killed her.  “Why,” she asked, “They’re fighting for you.  To protect you.”

            “They’re dying to protect me, and they’re dying for no reason.  I came to you because I was afraid of what Abel was, not of what he has become.  I am so much more than him, and I am sorry I ever burdened you to begin with.  Someday, maybe, you’ll understand what I mean, but a man is far more frightening when they care.  What he is now is nothing to me.  For now, even if you don’t understand, I need you to trust me.”

            Alex did understand, and she understood also that she wouldn’t always understand.  For then, she could see Abraham, the true Abraham, and knew that she was so much more than a little, frightened girl.  She was life, and she was the long shadow life cast.  In the afterlife, Alex realized, everything was so stark, simple, and clear.  It was attachment that warped perceptions, and perception warped everything else around it.

            “Okay,” Alex said, and she could feel Abraham’s joy.  It shined in the void.

            “Thank you, Alex, and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.  Everything you’ve sacrificed.  I am so sorry that it ever came to this.”

            “Don’t be.  I’m not.  It gave me something to live for.”

 

: Covenant :

 

            Abel stood with his lance ready, poised to strike.  The battle was already over.  Shana wasn’t even an obstacle between him and his goal.  She was nothing more than another body.  Isaac, the strongest of those remaining, was crouched beside him, holding his mother’s corpse and looking pale and weak.

            The blood on his spear pooled at the tip and fell.  He watched it with expressionless fascination and spoke without emotion or investment.  “In all this protest, this is what you achieve.  Failure and death.  I do not wish to kill you, or the Lady, and but I will have her.  I will change it, change everything, and become the god needed to set things right.”  His flat tone added weight to his words, but it lacked the conviction of a man who believes.  He looked at her, his eyes empty like the air.  “I will be a god who understands humanity.  Trust me.”

            Shana stared back at him, her disgust showing in the tightening of her brow and the grimace of her face.  “Trust you,” she said, her voice shaking.  “Trust you?  To be human?  Please!  You don’t have anything even remotely human left in you.  You’re empty, stuck here in your own little kingdom, plotting and planning and killing anyone in your way.  No. I won’t trust you, and I won’t let you become a god, because you’d be terrible at it.” Shana lifted her Voice, her knuckles white from holding to it so tightly.  Standing before him was a struggle.  Fighting him was a literal fight for her life.  It was hard to be brave in the face of death, but Alex’s memory demanded it.  She kept her feet planted.  “She would never forgive me if I gave up now.”

            “I will remove you.”

            “Go ahead and try.”

            That was when what remained of Alex coughed and rolled onto its back.  Choking, it sputtered until blood bubbled and ran out of its open mouth.  Its hair grew dark with old blood which had pooled beneath it, sticking the dirt to its scalp.  Shana paused, looking past Abel to Alex’s breathing corpse.  Color was returning to it.  Shana wanted to thank God and all of His angels, but it didn’t seem right.  She wasn’t ready to believe it was real.  She hazarded a hesitant, “Alex?”

            Ellen touched Shana’s shoulder and recoiled when she flinched.  “Go to her,” she whispered, and Shana looked back, nodded, and bounded away.  Ellen took her place, standing between Abel and the covenant as a human shield.  She knew that she couldn’t stop him for long, or at all, but she felt better about dying than doing nothing.

            Shana kneeled at Alex’s side and lifted her bloody head.  Alex’s flesh remained cold and pale, but there was warmth returning to her.  Alex’s eyes were slightly foggy.  Shana hugged her tight.  “Alex? Alex!  Please, tell me you’re alive.  Please!”

            Alex wheezed.  “Sort of.  Not much time.  Listen.  Tell Ellen.  Tell her to let go.  To give up Abraham.”

            Shana stammered, struggled for thought.  Everything had happened so quickly that the events were running together, smearing into a contradictory blur.  Tears ran down her cheeks as cold blood gathered in her palms.  “What? Alex, no.  What are you saying? Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve fought for to this point…Do you know what you’re saying?”

            “Yes.  I understand it all.  I can see.  Clearly.  Abraham.  She’s so much.  More than we understand.  It’s what she wants.  Trust her.”

            Shana looked up from Alex, to the waiting Ellen.  Abel watched.  They both did.  They could hear everything, and everyone was suspended in space, waiting to see what Alex would say next and what Ellen would do.  Shana fixed her eyes on the covenant.  “Alex, are you sure about this?”

            “She is.  I trust her.  You should, too.”

            Shana sighed.  “Okay,” she said, and she heard a faint breath and felt Alex go.  She set her to rest and closed her eyes.  When she looked up, she wiped her tears and found Abel waiting.  Ellen stood her ground.  She was crying now, too.

            “No.  I won’t back down.  This is a trick.  I don’t believe this.”

            Isaac frowned from where he squatted and set his mother’s body into the dust.  He stood beside Ellen and pulled her close.  She flailed and scratched against him, and he held her still until she fell, crying, into his chest.  He gave Abel a glassy-eyed stare that seemed out of place on him and said, “Just do it.”

            Abel watched, monetarily, and then nodded.  He willed his Voice away and made his approach.  Before the covenant, the red light it gave off casting dark shadows across his face, he pressed his palm to its smooth, shining surface.  It was warm to the touch and pulsed.  The light grew faintly, at first, and then shined.  The covenant slid open, light spilling now from its exposed innards, a bloody, blinding light.

            The covenant parted like fruit, and Abraham rose from within.  She stood, wet and naked, her childish body changing on contact with the air.  She grew tall and old, becoming a woman, perhaps even a mother, in the space of a breath.  Her hips blossomed.  Her skin gleamed.  Her figure was round and soft, and she radiated patient warmth and divine grace.

            Impossibly, she touched Ellen’s shoulder and whispered to her.  “It will be okay.”  Then, she turned to Abel and cupped his cheeks.  The air around her shifted, spiraling and twisting, catching her hair and making it dance like a crow’s feather caught on the wind.  “Everything will be okay.”

            Abel changed, too.  His eyes went dark and wide as everything rushed back to him.  Emotions washed over him like a torrential rain.  Confusion, hurt, surprise, anger, solitude, and loss, each sprang through him and swelled within him.  He felt each one acutely, and most of all, he felt.  Leaning forward, Abraham placed a single kissed upon his forehead, and he screamed.

            Light filled him.  It filled his skin, and his eyes, and his mind.  Since coming to the Emotion, his every thought was how to control her.  Only now, when he came to this point, did he realize that she was beyond control.  In his tempestuous emotions, he conjured his Voice and plunged it into her.  The earth splintered under his weight, the stones parting from his sheer force of will.  Abraham, however, remained unharmed.

            She replaced her lips with a single pale finger and brought him to his knees.  Kneeling with him, she hugged him, and Abel cried like a child into her bosom as he screamed.  “No. No!  NO!”  He repeated it as his mantra, and she shushed him patiently until he fell into a silence.  Once he was calmed, she smoothed his hair and soothed him.

            “Don’t you worry, darling.  Everything will be okay.  I understand you’re confused, and you’re frightened, and you’re so very ephemeral.  And I know you’re guilty, too, but I forgive you.” 

When she said that, it was all over.

 

: Covenant :

 

Again, Alex receded into her shapeless, formless self.  Warmth faded, and the light went with it.  Then, they returned.  Like the tide coming in, warmth and light seeped into her in slow pulses.  Her anxieties, her concerns, her happiness, her friendship, it all faded in and out.  She floated in the nothingness, but she could feel it all at the very edge of her perception.

She could feel Abraham, too, a tangible thing formed from the nothingness.  A dark curtain of hair obscured Abraham pale form.  She was a child again, but she moved with the poise of an adult.  Her eyes were large and dark, sparkling with the cosmos inside of them.  She smiled at Alex, and she spoke with all the gravity and weight of a world.  “Thank you, Alex.  Thank you so much.  You have done well.”

They hugged, formless and fully formed.  Alex felt the warmth again, and it was then that Alex realized the warmth she felt was Abraham surrounding her.  She realized also that Abraham smelled of flowers, and that reminded her of Alicia, and it made her smile.  “What happened to him after he opened the covenant?”

“He got what he wanted,” Abraham said, cradling Alex in her arms and in her heart.  “What he really wanted, I mean.  He had been confused for a long time, and hurt, too, but I set him on the right path.  Sometimes, people just need to be shown another path.”

“How did you do it?”

“I opened his heart, returned his emotions to him, and sent him on his way.”

“Sent him on his way?”

“Yes.”  Abraham ran her fingers through Alex’s hair.  Though she was smaller than Alex, she seemed more the adult between them. Abraham was safe and serene, and Alex wondered briefly if they were in heaven.  Abraham continued, “I returned him to where he began, to where we all began.”

“So, he died?”

Abraham laughed.  “Nothing dies, Alex.  It all just passes.”  She smiled.  “You should know that by now.”

Alex didn’t know, and she didn’t understand the distinction between the two, either.  Earlier she would have, she thought, and but her return to her body had left her feelings disorganized and her mind cluttered by sensation.  Everything that had made so much sense to her before seemed so far beyond her comprehension.  Even trying to remember how that felt, though, was more than she could handle, so she decided to let it go.  She turned her mind toward other things.  “And what about Shana? Did she pass, too? Where is she now?”

“No.  She went back to the physical world, where she belongs.  You should be there, too.”

“But, I thought I…”

Abraham put a finger to Alex’s lips.  “Thank you, Alex, for helping me.  And for being my friend.”  Then, Abraham released Alex to drift.  They floated together, watching each other, feeling each other.  Then, taking Alex’s cheeks, Abraham kissed her forehead and shoved her away.  They parted like ships at sea.

 

: Covenant :

 

The sheets were softer than Alex remembered, and the air in the room was crisp and cool.  Ellen kept it that way, needing the hum of the air conditioner to lull her to sleep at night.  Light slipped in through the slats of the blinds, adding a soft glow to the room’s interior.  Alex rolled onto her stomach, stretched, and thought that she could stand to miss her morning class.

Then, she jerked up, head-first, into the ceiling and gave a curse.  “What the hell?”  She winced, holding her head as she curled into a ball.  It hurt, and she felt every throbbing jolt.  She went wide-eyed.  “Wait.  I feel?”  Alex lifted her top, felt around her sternum, and found a long, thin scar where Abel had pierced her.  She released a sigh, brows knitted.

Next, she rolled onto her side to examine the dorm room.  It was both foreign and familiar.  She was alone in the early morning, lying in her bunk.  The wall hadn’t been exploded out across the field, nor were there any signs of damage or reconstruction.  Her body, she found upon closer examination, was largely whole and entirely unchanged, save for that single scar and the lingering memories.

She slid from the bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.  Every part of her ached, like she had been sleeping for a week.  She attempted to stretch out the kinks and found only moderate success.  Outside, the halls were empty, as was the commons.  Her feet were cold against the slick, glossy tiles.  It was the weekend, she reasoned, as there were too few people there for it to be a weekday.  She went to the front door and found Ellen and Isaac outside at the smoking benches.  Isaac appeared to be crying while Ellen comforted him.

“Oh, you’re up.  Good.  I was feeling kind of weird just walking around on my own.”

Alex turned to find Shana there.  Like Alex, Shana was unharmed and showing no sign of adventure, except for the careful way in which she carried herself.  Alex hugged her on sight, grateful for the warmth of her touch and the smell of her skin.  Shana hugged her back, and they held each other’s arms after the embrace ended.

“So, it was all a dream,” Alex said, though her scar contradicted that.  Shana led her to the couch, and Alex settled beside her.

“You think so? I don’t know.  I just feel like, in my heart, it was real.”

Alex stared at the far wall in deep thought and decided Shana was right.  All of it was confused in her head, but all of it was there.  She knew, in her heart, she could trust her body and her mind, and she knew also that she could trust Shana, too.  The battles, the Emotion, her death, it had all happened.  She lifted her right hand and, if she stared long enough, could almost see Three Gods there, wrapped around her wrist.

“We all woke up together in your dorm room,” Shana said.  “Isaac was with us, too, but he left early and only just came back.  He and Ellen have been outside ever since.  I think something happened.”  She glanced at them through the window.  “Oh, and we checked the date while you were sleeping, and it’s only a few days before all of us were sent to the Emotion.”

“The a few days before?”

“Yeah.  Before he left, Isaac told Ellen that something similar had happened to him when he left the Emotion for a little bit, except he was sent even farther back, but I don’t think it’s exactly the same.”  Shana stretched her arms overhead and then sighed.  “Also, Isaac’s mom, well, she,” Shana picked at her fingernails as she spoke, “It seems like the people who died in the Emotion, well, they stay dead.”

Alex stared at the far wall still, and she thought of the scar under her shirt.  She wondered what Abraham did and how she did it.  Then, her mind caught up to the conversation, and her eyes went wide.  She jumped up from the couch and sprinted down the hall to Carolyne’s room.

 

: Covenant :

 

Three hours later, Alex and Shana joined Ellen and Isaac outside.  Together, the four of them watched the paramedics haul off the body.  Shana wore one of Alex’s long sweaters to keep the cold Spring air from nipping at her skin.  It fit her like a dress.  The police stayed only a moment longer.  Alex had answered all of their questions absently, as if passing through a dream.  They told her that they may contact her again, but that it seemed unlikely.  She stared at the dorm with blank acceptance, feeling but not letting herself be overwhelmed by the feelings.

Silence ruled, interrupted only by the stirring of the trees.  Isaac had calmed and now stared like Alex.  His eyes were red, and he seemed tired. Ellen held his hand.  Shana held Alex.

“So,” Ellen said after some time, “Carolyne is?”

“She passed in her sleep,” Alex said.  “The paramedics said they couldn’t determine the cause.  The coroner will have to figure it out.”  Alex squeezed Shana’s hand.  “But we know.”

“It’s all connected,” Isaac said.  His voice was rough and distant, lacking his usual energy.  “Our bodies, our souls, and our spirit.  If one goes, then the others just…”  He brought his hands together, knitting the fingers into a weave.  Then, he pulled them apart.  “Whatever is left just withers.”

Alex opened her mouth to speak.  She paused, licked her lips, and swallowed.  “Then how come I survived?”

Isaac looked at her.  So did everyone else.  His gaze was tired.  To her, he seemed older.  “I’m not sure.  From what I saw, I would have thought you would be gone.”

“You survived because you have something to live for,” Shana said, and she held Alex even tighter.

Alex laughed warily.  “I guess I do, even if I don’t know what that is right now.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Shana said.  “And that, by itself, is enough for now.”

Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 4: Covenant, Chapter Sixteen: "Covenant, part 1 Daybreak and Shadows"

 

Volume Four: Covenant

 

We created God so that He could create us,

We reject God so that we can create ourselves.

 

Chapter Sixteen: Covenant, part 1 Daybreak and Shadows

 

            Alex and Ellen’s exit left Shana feeling very alone.  Cornelius stood to the side, near the cliff’s edge, and watched her while Deidra just stared ahead blankly, her face returned to the same mask of indifference that she arrived with.  Shana sat down beside the dome and waited, reflecting on her journey into the Emotion, her meeting with Samantha, and reunion Alex, who had changed so much since their arrival.  Their time there seemed to drain Shana, but it invigorated Alex, who grew stronger and stronger, coming out of her shell and becoming the woman Shana always knew she could be.  It made Shana happy to see her friend shine so bright, but it also made her feel a bit sad, afraid that Alex had somehow outgrown her.

            Since coming to the Emotion and finding her Voice, Shana could feel Alex.  Wherever Alex went, Shana could follow her.  That changed when the dome slid shut.  At first, Shana could feel a phantom of her lingering presence, muted but there.  Then, she couldn’t feel even a hint of her.  Alex was gone.

            It was then that she regretted letting Ellen go.  Though Alex was stronger now, Shana still felt the need to be there with her.  It was Shana’s belief that even the strongest people need support.  Shana looked at Deidra and wondered if she felt the same way about Abel.  Then, she stood.  “Hey, Deidra, I have a question for you.  That guy, Abel, wasn’t it?”

            “Yes, it was.”  Deidra spoke without turning.

            “Okay, why are you helping him?”

            “I thought we had discussed this already.  I have no reason.”

            Shana crossed her arms.  “Yeah, that’s what you said, but that’s not good enough.  There’s got to be a reason, whether you want to admit it or not.  You must be here for a reason.”

            Deidra glanced at Shana and then turned away.  She walked to the edge of the cliff and stared down into the bottom of the canyon.  Her dress trailed after her, shifting the dust in her wake.  “Such information is useless,” she said, and she stood, statue-like, staring into the distance.  “Why are you so desperate to know?”

            “I’m not,” Shana said.  “I guess if you told me, then at least I’d have a reason, you know, a motive?  At least then it wouldn’t be a bunch of people hurting each other just to make it hurt.”

 

: Covenant :

 

            Alex blinked and the pain was gone.  The shouts that once filled the room gave way to silence.  Meanwhile, the cold hands gripping her face disappeared into the still, musty air of the cathedral.  She could no longer smell blood, nor could she feel it running down her face.  She opened her eyes and found herself alone in a room, surrounded by nothing but pillars and pews, curled into a dark corner.

            She drew a deep breath and stood.  Only moments ago, she was faced with her greatest fears.  All of her hard work and all of the trouble she had imposed on others, made meaningless in the face of her own failures.  It felt to her so real and, even upon waking from these strange fantasies, she wonders how much of it was false.

            The pain was not gone but lessened, replaced by a stagnating sense of complacency that suffused the cathedral’s exterior equally.  She stared across the cathedral to the doors, which stood stalwart and blank.  Above, she could feel Abraham, and she could feel someone else with her.  Alex made for the stairs.

            At the top, she found Isaac staring across the platform at Crest.  Ellen was beside them, kneeling at a large, smooth gemstone, oval in shape and fixed into the floor.  Alex looked between Isaac and Crest before rushing to Ellen’s side.  “Ellen!”

            Ellen strained, her fingers pressed tightly to the gemstone, which she found warm to the touch and very, very solidly dug into the stonework of the building.  She saw Alex, and her hand’s slipped and fell onto her rear.  Alex was there before she could respond. Ellen could only looked up at her.  “Alex?”

            Alex kneeled beside Ellen.  “Ellen, what’s going on up here?”

            Ellen stared a moment longer before looking down at the gemstone.  “Abraham is trapped inside of here, and I can’t find a way to get her out.  I’m trying to pull it out, but this thing feels like it is built into the floor.”

            “So, we need to get it out of here first before we can even try to open up the gemstone and take her home, am I right?”

            Ellen paused. “Well, yeah, basically.”

            “Right.”  Liquid steel encased Alex’s right hand as she stood, solidifying into a blade.  “Stand back.”

            “Um, Alex, what are you doing?”

            “Getting her out of there.”

            Ellen pulled herself up and pressed her back flat to the wall.  Watching with wide-eyed anxiety, she said, “Please be careful!”

            “We’ve gotten this far, Ellen, I won’t screw things up here.”  Alex positioned herself above the gem, her legs wide, her feet planted firm.  She lifted her Voice above her head, supporting it with her free hand.  “Right, then.”  Closing her eyes, she called out to her soul, which whispered to her in return.  An echo rang through her, starting first as feelings and then forming words at the back of her throat.  She drew a deep breath and spoke.  The words became power as she articulated them.

            All sorrow be at bay.  All hope come to light!

            The air shifted around her.  When she swung her arm there was a crack and a flash.  The ground fractured and gave in a cloud of dust.  The gem fell through the floor and landed at the first floor’s center.  Alex’s footing remained stable as she stared through the newly formed hole she had made.  She shifted her weight and knocked a free hanging stone down onto the gemstone’s unblemished, liquid-like surface.  “See,” she said, “she’s fine.”

            Ellen, pale and shaking, released her held breath.  Alex offered her a hand and pulled Ellen to her.  Together, they hopped into the hole.  Alex landed lightly, bringing Ellen with her in a bridal carry.  At the floor, she set Ellen back down onto her legs and then turned to the gemstone.  “Come on, we need to get her out of here.”

            “Okay.”  Ellen followed Alex’s lead, taking up position across from her on the gemstone and seizing it clumsily where it was most narrow.  The gemstone itself was oblong and uneven.  Its surface was slick and resisted their grip.  They had to hug it and lift with their backs to get any leverage.  Hunched over it together, they scrambled toward the door.

 

: Covenant :

 

            Shana watched the dome’s dull gray exterior with growing unease and contemplated her connection with Alex.  Now without her, Shana wondered if she could always feel Alex’s presence around her, even before she found her Voice.  Being without her here in the Emotion seemed strange to her, almost wrong, like a world without color.

            Deidra joined Shana, standing at her side and staring, apathetically, and held herself in the same defensive posture.  She kept her arms wrapped around her torso, like she was comforting herself, like she was protecting herself from the world.  Shana realized that Deidra closed off her body like she closed off her heart. 

Deidra glanced at Shana.  “Do you have any children, girl?”

            Shana stared ahead, shifting her weight away from Deidra as she answered.  “No, I don’t.”

            “Of course not.  You’re far too young for children.”

            “I was about to say that.”  Shana sat in the dirt.  Deidra joined her.  They continued speaking while watching the dome, neither one chancing a glance at each other.  “Uh, what about you?  Do you have any kids?”

            Deidra looked at the ground.  For a brief moment warmth flashed across her features.  There was almost a smile, but it was restrained.  “I had a child, and he was the light of my life.  When he was born, when I saw his little face, there is nothing like it.”

            Shana looked at Deidra, watched emotions pass over her face like seasons.  A small, uncertain smile blossomed briefly before wilting into a frown.  That frown then turned to a bitter, hollow stare, and then to nothing, swallowed completely by the void the older woman had built around her heart.  Alex would do the same thing, Shana remembered.

            “Long ago, the man named Abel, the man whose plans you are attempting to thwart, went on a journey with me.  We endeavored to—Well, we wanted to end the world.  We were young, and we were blessed, and we were led by anger.  A man confused us, showed us a dark path, and another man, someone dear to us, fought against us.  He stopped us, but he did so at a cost.”  She paused, tears now in her eyes.  She wiped them away before continuing.  “So many broken things were left behind, broken friendships, broken people.  Broken hearts.  The boy who stopped us, the hero of this tale, he lost his sister in the struggle.

            “In the end, I survived, but it all left me feeling empty inside.  My anger, my resentment, had brought nothing but pain and suffering to the world.  It was my juvenile wish for a better world that had started it all, that had made me so angry, and when it was done, I realized that such things are just fiction.  For a time, I lost all hope.  Then, I gave birth.  He was a beautiful baby boy.  He was,” she smiled faintly, “He was so many things.  He looked just like me, but he had his father’s eyes.”

            Deidra paused and gathered herself.  Her features hardened as she spoke again.  “That was a lie, though, all of it a hopeless illusion.  His father was no hero.  Consumed by his past, he let it rule him.  He raised my son to be a fighter, a ‘hero’ in his own image.  Looking toward the past, he never once looked toward the future, for though he saved the world, he was as broken as the rest of us.

            “Day by day, I watched my son have his life taken away from him.  I put everything into him, my hopes, my dreams, my love, but it did nothing for him.  He was his father’s child, idealistic, brash, foolish, and I couldn’t stand to see him become the man who had stood in opposition to me for so long ago.  Abel returned from what I had thought to be an early and violent grave. He offered me escape, and unable to watch as I had, I took it.  I left my son alone to suffer at the hands of a man more broken even than myself.  I left him to repeat the cycle.

            “And that is life, an endless, hopeless loop set on repeat.  Nothing but youth, hope, disappointment, dissolution, and when we’re too tired to carry on, death.”

            Shana was hugging her knees as Deidra finished her story.  Looking on the woman, her skin young, her eyes ancient, Shana had trouble seeing her as a mother.  The image didn’t fit.  Shana’s own mother wasn’t warm, but she was there.  Shana thought that a mother should do at least that much.

            She looked forward and, after thought, said, “I don’t think that’s fair.  You said all of these things where why you left, but how old was he at the time? And what did you do to help?  I mean, sure, maybe he might turn out like his father.  Maybe his dad was pushing all of these expectations on him, but were you any different by wanting him to be something else than what he was?”

            Deidra remained quiet.

            “I’m here right now,” Shana said, “And I’m not here for myself.  I’m here for Alex, and for Ellen, and for that little girl I don’t even know.  Abraham, wasn’t it?  I’m here fighting, and I find meaning in that.  Like I said, maybe it’s an illusion, but it is my choice to believe in it.  You can go on thinking that life is meaningless, but I have decided to give it meaning.  I’d rather do that than just sit around and wait for death.”

            “That is foolish.”

            They fell silent.  Shana rested her head on her knees.  “Maybe,” she said.  “Your kid, do you know what ever happened to him?”

            Deidra looked at her and nodded.  “In a sense.”

            “And? Did he turn out just like his father?”

            Deidra allowed a smile.  “I saw him only briefly,” she said, “But from what I could tell, he was so much more.”

 

: Covenant :

 

            Isaac and Crest stood staring even as Alex and Ellen made their explosive escape.  Isaac’s firm grip on his chakrams left his hands stiff.  The blades of each discus gleam in the torch light.  “Who are you?”

            Crest flashed his teeth in a snarl.  “I have no true name, though you may call me Crest for now, though you won’t have long to say it.”

            “I won’t let you hurt them.”

            “You should be more worried about yourself, boy.  Your friends will die in their own time.  You, however, you, I want to kill personally.”

            “Go ahead and try.”

            “Oh, I will!”

            The Cathedral’s crown exploded into a burst of light and a spray of shadows.  Isaac sailed from the light, with Crest following just after, a solid stream of shadows trailing in his wake.  Debris from the explosion landed in chunks around Alex and Ellen.  The two of them stumbled across the bridge as heavy blocks of black stone rocked its fountain.  The stonework of the bridge fractured under their feet as they shuffled along.  Ahead, they could see the dull grey of the dome and knew it to be their only source of safety.

            A spiraling hunk of stone came sailing toward them.  Alex saw it and dropped her end of the gem, leaving Ellen to stumble into the guard rail as they fumbled about.  Leaping, Alex conjured her Voice and, words echoing through her, split the stone in a flash of light.  A thin trail of glowing, molten stone dripped red as it parted around them and landed harmlessly on each side of them.  Alex landed and smiled back at Ellen, who clung to the railing while grasping her chest.

            “Warn me next time!”

            “Right, sorry.”  Alex let her Voice fade as she stood.  “Come on.  We need to get going while we can.”

            “God, my back is killing me.”  Ellen took the front of the gemstone.  “I wish there was a better way to do this.  Maybe if we could get it open, we could just pull her out and carry her instead of it.”

            “Maybe, but we should escape first before anyone else shows up to stop us.”  Alex pointed ahead.  “We’re almost to the end.”

            Ellen wiped the sweat from her forehead and nodded. “Then let’s hurry.”  Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around the smooth, rounded edges of the gem and waited for Alex to do the same.  With Alex seizing it, they stood together and scrambled toward the exit.  “How will we tell them that we’re back? Should we just knock on the dome when we get there? Do you think they would even hear us if we did?”

            “I’ll cut my way out if I have to.”

            Above them, the sky parted.  The grey steel of the dome peeled away to reveal the golden twilight surrounding it.  The canyon lit up in the burning haze of light.  The landscape writhed around them.  The cathedral behind Ellen faded as the sunlight hit it, the dark brickwork turning to orange-brown stone.  The bridge did the same.  No longer stone-laid, it was a dusty land bridge that led their way out.

            Alex smiled across the gemstone at Ellen.  “Then again, maybe the problem will just solve itself.”

            Turning the gem sideways, they looked ahead together and found Shana waiting, hugging Deidra, who cried softly into her shoulder.

 

: Covenant :

 

            He opened his eyes and stared with an absent expression at the dark sky above.  A thin layer of dust had collected on his body as he slept.  Standing, he shook the dust off and regarded his surroundings with haughty indifference.  He was above it all, separated, distinct, and entirely actualized.

            He had stood tall since youth, but his bearing had become titanic.  His presence made mountains sink.  His gaze bore holes through steel.  Somewhere else in the Emotion, they could feel him.  He could feel them, too, but it summoned nothing from him.  His focus was fixed on one thing.  It was all about to end.  His ambition was singular, and his convictions unshakable.

            Soon, Abel would become God.

Indigo: Abraham, Emotion Vol. 2: Murderer, Chapter Seven: "Murderers (SecondThoughts)

 

Chapter Seven: Murderers (SecondThoughts)

 

            The sky was the color of aged steel and cast everything under it in a harsh, dull light. It paled the dirty spires of the cathedral below, as well as the broken archways.  It made the gargoyles that lined the entryway seem alive, their fractured bodies seeming to be mended by the light, their dark eyes made into sunken holes.  The canyon around the cathedral was foggy and empty.  The air was wet.

            Crest stood on the bridge, staring first at the cathedral and then down into the foggy canyon abyss.  He stood still with Carolyne slumbering soundly on the bridge beside him, and he sneered.  With a single movement he could kill her, toss her over the edge and forget her, but that was no way to treat a toy when it could still be played with.

            So, he stood and waited, and when she finally woke it was in a fiery rage.  She leapt up, Voice forming in her hand, and nearly jammed the razor tip of the rapier through his throat.  Her eyes were untamed fire, but her heart wasn’t.  No matter how hard she tried, she just wasn’t a killer.

            He regarded her calmly, even with the tip of her blade pricking his throat. He just stared at her, into her, and stayed that way until she relented.  Her Voice faded in a flash the steely light and she stepped away, placing a hand on the bridge’s guard rail before she stared out into the canyon below.

            “What the hell happened there?”

            Crest turned, too, and stared into the canyon alongside her.  “You went to kill the blonde, and you failed.”  He looked back at her, now wearing a wry grin.  “You had the perfect chance, but you choked.  No backbone.  None at all.”

            She frowned and she scoffed, and she didn’t say anything at all.  She just gripped the guard rail so hard it hurt.

            “What were you even doing there, little girl?”

            She glared at him, and he kept her gaze.  His calm only made her angrier, but she didn’t have a response.  She didn’t have the power she wanted, and she certainly couldn’t take her first kill from him.  Not without dying in the act, at least.  “I was taking the initiative.  Those two are nothing but trouble, and we just let them roam around, doing as they like...”

            “But those were not your orders.”  Crest turned and nodded toward the Cathedral.  “You were supposed to be guarding the Covenant.  That is your only task.”

            “The best way to guard something is to remove the threat to it entirely.  I was being proactive.”

            He grinned.  In ways, she reminded him of himself, the way she lied to herself, hid her own motivations to keep herself sane, or at least an approximation of.  She was angry, and that made her violent, and she couldn’t accept it.  Abel wouldn’t care either way, though.  Crest, however, could use her.

            “Perhaps, but those were not your orders.”  He kept his tone measured.  She could be a murderer, but she would have to pushed there slowly.  “The master doesn’t want to kill anyone he doesn’t have to.  It is simple as that.”

            “Then he is wrong,” Carolyne said, and she went quiet after.  Crest gave her a look of precise surprise and suspicion.

            “Would you care to elaborate?”

            Carolyne hesitated, and she felt at the guard rail, picking away imaginary paint chips.  Her skin had paled a bit, and she certainly looked to him like she was anxious, the way her eyes darted, the way her weight shifted.  When she spoke, she made an honest effort to hide her fear.  “He’s too soft, too weak to kill.  Or, his resolve is.”

            Crest smiled.  She truly was ignorant, but that would make her even more useful to him.  “Carolyne,” he said, turning toward the canyon and staring into the empty horizon, “I assure you, the only thing greater than our master’s strength is his resolve.  That he sees no reason to spill blood unless it will help us toward our goal is proof not of weakness, but of absolute power.  Now, don’t misunderstand, he doesn’t care about those two fools, nor would he be hurt to see them go.  The problem isn’t that you attacked them, but that you left your post to do so.”  He looked at her again and found her gaze fixed firmly on the fog.  She couldn’t even bring herself to meet his eyes.  Shame.  It was exactly what he wanted.  “You cannot be so reckless,” he said, “especially if you cannot commit yourself to your own recklessness.”

            He paused to hear her response, and when she had none, turned away.  The shadows around him coalesced, pooling around his feet.  “Perhaps, you should worry more about your own resolve rather than the master’s.”  He said it quickly and dropped into the shadows, disappearing from view.  Soon, the shadows were gone, too.

            Carolyne remained, alone on the bridge, hands tight on the guard rail, glowering at the landscape below.  She felt angry, angry with him, angry with Abel, and with Alex, and with Ellen, and with herself.  She was a murderer, she just had to prove it.

            She turned sharply and stuffed her hands into her pockets, and she stomped away, shoulders slouched, back toward the cathedral.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Deidra waited inside of the cathedral, at the top of the stairs.  She stood alone on the platform, near the edge, looking out at the pews and the stained glass above.  Four torches burned around the gemstone in the center, the Covenant, where the girl slept. 

            She turned to the Covenant and stared inside.  The girl was small, so much smaller than she had thought.  Her raven hair was fanned out around her body.  She was curled up, fetal, hugging her knees to her chest.  It was hard for Deidra to understand, but this little girl alone held the fate of the world inside of her, or at least according to Abel she did.

            Footsteps echoed, leading the way up the stairs.  Abel entered, taller than she remembered.  He regarded her impassively and from the look in his eyes, she could tell he was close.  He was almost empty, but the sight of her aroused something.  It was brief, just the merest flicker, but it showed that more time would be needed.  His voice shook her as he spoke.  “Deidra,” he said, stopping beside the Covenant and staring into its core.  Another emotion, hunger or greed, in his eyes, another thing to be purged.  “She is beautiful, isn’t she?  And almost human, to the untrained eye.”

            Deidra crossed her arms and stepped back, leaning into the guard rail.  She watched him watch the Covenant, and she betrayed nothing.  They fell into a lengthy silence, just staring, and finally she spoke.  “Why did you summon me, Abel?”

            “You know why.”  He didn’t look up, didn’t even accuse her.  He didn’t have to.

            She shrugged and stared.  He met her gaze with blank eyes, and she met him with equal apathy.  “Pretend I don’t.”

            He held her gaze, his expression colder than the harshest winter.  It was too much, even for her, but she managed to stay through to the end.  When he looked away, she felt a great relief.  Sometimes, when speaking to him, it was difficult to remember that there was ever anything human inside of him.

            “You went to see him.”

            “I did.”

            “You let them escape.”

            “It was a mistake, and I won’t let it happen again.  So, if that is all.”  She lifted her dress to just above her ankles and moved briskly past him.  He caught her by the arm in a grip tight enough to cause her pain and held her there.

            “Deidra, I need you to be honest.  Are you having second thoughts? I have to know.”  He tone was even, clinical.  His eyes lingered on hers for a moment too long.  She remembered when they were younger, in the rain, how much passion he had, how much vigor, and she wondered how much of that was smoked out of him by the flames.  “I must be sure where your loyalties lie,” he said.  “You know my plan well, better than any of them, so I just need to know that I can trust you.”

            She swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled her arm free from his grasp.  “Whether I am having second thoughts or not is none of your business, nor does it matter.  Fate will take whatever path it wills.”  Her arm still ached where he held her.  She can feel the flesh swelling under her sleeve.  “Whatever will be will be, Abel, whether I do or don’t.  But still, it was a mistake.  That much I can admit to you.”

            He remained quiet and still, so much so that she thought he may not of heard her.  After a few seconds she just left, going toward the stairs, her boots clicking against stone platform.  She found Cornelius waiting at the base of the stairs, his armor still dirty from their time in the desert, his sword resting, blade down, in front of him.  He hefted it up when she approached and bowed his head low.

            They went together toward the door and met Carla on the way.  She was seated in one of the pews but rose at their approach and smiled as they passed.  Carla held the handrail and took the stairs up, and she joined Abel on the platform, watching Deidra and Cornelius’ exit.

            “Master.”

            “I apologize,” he said, turning to her.  “I know you have much work to do, but I wanted to speak with them privately.”

            “It’s fine.”  She gave him a smile.  He gave her nothing in return.

            “Continue the incubation,” he said, and he glanced toward the doors, spying Deidra’s back just before they closed.  “I must go to purify myself.”

            He left her there, alone with the Covenant.  She watched him disappear down the stairs and then went to the center of the platform.  Sitting between two torches, she folded her legs and put her hands together, linking her fingers and feeling the energy inside of her.  A quick breath, and then she reached forward, placing her hand flat against the Covenant and feeling the energies inside of it.

            Slowly, quietly, she began to whisper.

 

: Murderer :

 

            While Deidra and Abel were inside speaking, Carla was outside on the bridge.  She sat to one side of the bridge, braced against the guard rail and staring up at the sky.  Once, she remembered, the area had been cast in golden light, but that was long ago, before Deidra, before Abel.

            Carolyne approached her, slouched and shuffling, and Carla stood to meet her.  They didn’t know each other well, but Carla knew just the way to change that.  She met her with an open smile and an open hand.  She was someone who carried herself with an openness and warmth that few people had and many would envy.  “Hi, there.  You’re new, right?  I’m Carla.”

            Carolyne stopped and regarded her quietly.  She nodded toward her but didn’t take her hand.  “Carolyne,” she said.

            Carla withdrew her hand and rubbed the back of her head.  They stood together, in the shadow the cathedral cast.  “You’re here protecting the cathedral, right?  Protecting me?”

            “Sure.”

            Carla smiled.  “Thank you for that.”  Carolyne shrugged.  “Carolyne, is something wrong?”

            Carolyne paused, frowned.  “No.”

            “Clearly, something is.”  Carla looked her in the eyes, touched her shoulder lightly.  “Come on, you can talk to me.  You can tell me anything.  I promise.  Trust me.”

            For a moment Carla thought it had failed, that the words had no power over the other woman, but Carolyne’s expression softened, and though she pulled herself from Carla’s touch, she stayed closeby, leaning against the guard rail and staring up at the sky.  After a long breath, she finally said, “I’m afraid to kill.”

            Carla leaned into the bridge beside her.  She crossed her thick arms over her chest and nodded thoughtfully.  “Well, of course you are.  Anyone who isn’t afraid to take a life isn’t alive themselves.  What you’re feeling is perfectly natural.”

            “But I want it.  I want to kill.”  Carolyne sagged.  She fiddled with her hands, keeping her fingers busy.  “I am better than this, you know.  I don’t have time to worry about their lives, and they’re not worth it.”

            Carla leaned back and stared up at the sky.  She wondered if it had really ever been that golden color she remembered or if that was all a dream.  It was difficult to tell dreams from reality there in the Emotion, and for someone like her, who had been there so long, it was nearly impossible.

            “Murder isn’t so simple.  It isn’t about who is better or worse, or even about who deserves to live or die.  It’s about dreams and time.  To take a life is to take another person’s future away from them, all of their dreams, all of their time.  That’s why it is a sin, and the very act of it, even in self-defense, will leave you scarred forever in your soul.”

            Carolyne frowned again, this time more deeply than before.  Her hands found their ways to her pockets, and she looked at Carla.  Carla met her gaze.  “If you believe that, then why are you helping him, when you know he will kill and has killed before?”

            Carla smiled, the same open, warm smile.  “Because Abel is planning to fix a world that has long been broken.  Once he is pure, and he ascends, he will pull us all up with him.  And it will hurt some.  It may even kill them.  But in the end, we’ll all be better for it.  Does that make sense to you?”

            “Not really, but...”  Carolyne held out her hand and let Carla shake it.  “Thanks.  And it’s nice to meet you.”

            “Likewise.”  Carla stood from the guard rail and went to the door.  She pushed the doors open and stood in the threshold, stopping long enough to look Carolyne in the eyes. Where Carolyne’s eyes were reminiscent of spring, Carla’s muddy brown eyes seemed more at home in autumn. “Feel free to talk to me anytime.”

            Carolyne put her hands back in her pockets.  “Sure,” she said, but even then, Carla knew she never would.

 

: Murderer :

 

            Carolyne sat alone for a while after that to gather her thoughts.  She sat on the bridge’s railing, staring out into the misty depths of the canyon.  Sometimes, she thought she could see the very bottom, but in truth it was all just a great shadow.  Even if she could see it, she would never know.

            Deidra left with Cornelius in tow, and that is when Carolyne took the chance to enter the cathedral.  She didn’t like it there.  The air outside felt oppressive, but the air inside was otherworldly.  Rows of pews lined the first floor, leading up to a raised platform with a wooden pedestal at its center.  Four marble columns held the second floor aloft, and a ghostly red glow could be seen from above

            Sitting in the center, staring at the podium, was Goliath.  He had his hands folded and head down in prayer.  Carolyne approached him and stopped at the end of his pew, staring at him and wondering how he managed to fit.  Being as big as he was, he seemed entirely too large for the seat itself.

            “May I help you?”  He asked without opening his eyes, and Carolyne stayed quiet until he looked at her.  Then she crossed her arms and sat at the far end of the pew, legs folded, and she stared back.  He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Yes?”

            “You were the one sent to kill Alex.”

            “Yes.”

            “But you didn’t.”

            “No.”

            “Why?”

            “She was weak and hardly worth it.  There is nothing to be gained from slaughtering the weak and the innocent.”
            “Then why do it now?  Why follow Abel at all?”

            He stared at her for a few moments longer and then bowed his head.  Finishing his prayer, a few silent whispers meant only for him, and he rose.  His body was a pillar of muscle, carved straight from marble and gleaming with perspiration.  “I dueled him once, long ago, when I first arrived here.  He defeated me, quickly, and proved his will was stronger than mine.”  Goliath looked at her.  “He is stronger than me.  So, he leads me.  Do you understand?”

            “I guess.”  Carolyne swayed her foot.  “And you...”  She paused.  “When you see her again, what will you do?”

            He took a great breath.  From where she sat, he seemed so tall that he scrapped the sky.  “I will let her decide how we proceed and react accordingly.  Nothing more and nothing less.”

            “You’ll kill her?”

            “Those were my orders.”  They locked eyes for only a moment, and Carolyne saw him for what he was.  Everyone who came to the Emotion lost something, and in that loss, they became something else, and she saw Goliath for what he became.  He was big and strong, and that is how he defined himself.

            He sidled out of the pew and turned his back on her, taking the long walk with his head high shoulders set.  He left the Cathedral, and he left her alone, shaking her foot in the silence and sorting her thoughts.

            She wanted to kill, had to kill to prove that she could, that she was above them, better than, ascended, but something held her back.  Ellen looked so weak, so frail, so pathetic, and though it turned Carolyne’s stomach, it also weakened her resolved.  However bad she wanted it, in that moment at least, Carolyne just couldn’t shake her second thoughts.