Whoa... This. Is. So. Good. I'm so sad it's coming to an end...

Part 1

~~

Heavy breaths rasped in the otherwise silence as a figure stood poised as if for battle in the middle of a clearing. Behind them was what appeared to be a campsite, with a dimly flickering fire and a pile of dark coals further away, their light completely extinguished. The person cast a quick backwards glance at the still-burning fire, orange-hued fear reflected in their eyes. Then they took in a final gasp and spread out their arms, chanting nearly unintelligible words in an ancient tongue. Their speech was garbled and slurred, as if they were exhausted by the very effort of doing such a thing, but every few seconds they would jerk back to sharp, clear murmuring.

At each beat of the words, a rippling wave of whitish energy pulsed out of the person, thinning and dissipating as it breached the walls of the room. But as the figure struggled to keep the energy surging, hands trembling as they clenched into white-knuckled fists, the magic began to flicker and fade, dropping away like an old television set.

“Et… tacet…” the person muttered, their body clenched inwards. “Urrgh… lin… guam…” Slowly they curled their fists into an open palm, but the split second their hands fell flat a bolt of pain exploded in their body and the steady white stream snapped off, and with a quiet gasp the person swayed, staggered, and collapsed onto the ground. Thick and glossy liquid seeped from an open wound on their back, pooling onto the ground like spilled stars.

They did not move.

 

 

“Brr!”  Danie shivered, clutching at her arms as stormy wind rolled over the pond. “The thunderstorm was last night and it’s still going on?” Claaws agreed with Danie more than she could say; cold wind was snapping at the prairie as the skies festered above, even though the majority of the downpour had taken place last night. Everyone had had to hunker down and find somewhere to try and sleep. An impossible task, of course, but they still tried. Claaws had found herself being lapped at by mud and water every time she closed her eyes, and eventually she ended up transforming into a caracal and creeping into the hollows beneath a nearby uprooted tree to uncomfortably slumber. The next morning had not been much more fun, with every muscle and bone in her body aching. Her friends clearly hadn’t fared any better, either, and now they were huddled around a clump of boulders, talking among themselves with chattering teeth.

“I don’t know what it’s on about either,” St Owl said, casting a quick glance up at the sky. “Isn’t… I mean, isn’t Vox supposedly controlling the weather? Do you think something happened to them?”

“You really think so?” Icy mused back, looking with mild repulsion at the cold fish. Last night she and a few other birds had gone diving in the pond and come up with dinner, which had then been cooked to delicious warmth, but it wasn’t particularly pleasing to the stomach to have to eat it chilled the next morning.

 

 

“Well, they did always hint at playing god,” St Owl shot back, her photographic memory recalling everything Vox had said.

“More like shoved it in our face,” quipped Joan with an enormous yawn, gray circles lining her eyes. “They weren’t particularly careful with flinging their powers around or anything.”

“That’s true…” St Owl said, a hand over her mouth. “It’s just that—”

 

“ICY!”

 

 

The scream was like an explosion that rocked the air near Claaws, who slipped off the rock she was perched on and crashed face-first into the ground. Wiping mud out of her eyes with a wince, she was immediately on guard until she saw Kestrel standing knee-deep in chilly water, her body gaunt and eerie. One of her trembling fingers was outstretched towards Icy, an accusing glare on her face.

“Kestrel!” Eria burst out, shocked as anyone to see her friend’s voice return so suddenly. “You can talk again—” But she was cut off as Kestrel spat furiously and leapt for Icy, who could nothing more than jerk her hands over her face in meek protection. Kestrel barrelled into Icy’s side and slammed her to the earth, muddy water spraying up around them. Scylla started forwards to pull Kestrel away, her face hardened, but with an uncharacteristically hard blow Kestrel slapped her hand away.

“Don’t you dare!” she yelled, her rediscovered voice ringing around the campsite. “None of you know what she is! Why is everyone always so blind to who people really are?” Hot tears had sprung up around Kestrel’s eyes, and with trepidation Claaws waited for her to continue. Every ounce of her sane body strained to pull the two girls apart, but a stronger desire to know what Kestrel could finally say kept her away.

“I saw it,” Kestrel hissed, her voice quivering. “I saw you when I went into the campfire room. Yes, I saw you! Don’t pretend I didn’t, Vox!” Claaws’s body numbed with shock, unable to move even her eyes from where they were glued to the scene. Icy was… Vox? How?

Then it came to her that if she had been right the previous night, Vox could and would change their shape at will. It wouldn’t… it wouldn’t be too outlandish of a thought that Icy’s mystical disappearance and reappearance was timed with the god’s physical form in the Garden…

“Icy—or, or Vox, or whoever you are!” Eria shouted, tears running down her face and splashing into the prairie. “Is she right?” Icy was frantically shaking her head no, struggling to shove Kestrel off of her.

“Say it!” Kestrel howled, shaking Icy by her shoulders. “I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t say anything! You punished me for nothing! So go on, say it!

Say that it’s who you really are!”

 

 

 

With a cough Vox sat up, feeling more fragile than they ever had before. Their head pounded like madness and black spots flickered in front of their eyes, though they supposed that a loss of magic would do that to you. Just then a stabbing pain alerted them to their back, and with a bolt of anxiety their fingers found the slashed wound, and brought back glossy blood. Vox wrinkled their nose at the sight of nebulæ and flicked it onto the grass where it gathered like starry dewdrops, then woozily rising to their feet. Everything seemed alright, though the main fire was worryingly lower than ever, yet they couldn’t push away a feeling that something was not… right.

Slowly walking over to the campfire, they took a seat at the log and numbly gazed into the dim flames, only able to vaguely sense what was happening. Words hazed in and out of hearing, and in a desperation to hear the group’s discussion they plunged a hand into the blaze. Immediately the speech became sharper and clearer, and Vox strained to listen.

“...for nothing!” Kestrel snarled. Vox felt chills run down their spine at her voice. They knew that once the spell had been broken Kestrel would regain her tongue, but it was still slightly shocking to hear her speak with such spite. “So go on, say it!”

Vox heard the last words spit out in slow motion, a dull thickness filling their mind. Drunkenly their thoughts whispered back, saying, How could she know? but Vox knew nothing of it. Only raw fear and splitting pain was filling their body now, and as Kestrel screamed her last shattering spell the fluorescent stars twitched to blackness, and the floor pooled in beneath Vox’s feet. With a silent wail the helpless figure toppled into the caving darkness and vanished from sight.

“Say that it’s who you really are!”

 

 

“W-who I am?” Icy spluttered, her pale blonde caked in mud. “I-I’m Icy! You have to believe me! You have to!” Kestrel would have likely said and done more in her vengeful rage, but just then there was a creaking sound, like rusty hinges on a door. Distracted for a moment from her anger, Kestrel glanced up at the sky. Cracks had begun to lace across it, ridiculously making her think of splintering ice for a moment. Then a terrible ripping grated at her ears, and with a burst the sky began to fall.

Kestrel shoved Icy away and scrambled onto her feet, crashing into Nebula and sending them reeling both to the ground as a black maw opened and being to swallow the sky whole. “Kestrel!” Nebula gasped, her friend’s inane attack forgotten in light of the new disaster. “What’s going on?”

“I have no idea!” Kestrel shouted back, her eyes darting from side to side as everyone clustered into a group. Fear was paralyzing her limbs, and truthfully if something had happened in that moment Kestrel would have been helpless.

As the blackness dwarfed the sky even more, rubbing out the grayish-blue, Kestrel spotted a flash of movement. “No, wait, wait—what’s that?” Every eye turned to the sight, and if she concentrated Kestrel could make out a dark shape limply plunging towards the earth. Then it struck the earth, blocked from view by a thatch of haygrasses. No one moved as silence descended over the group, and though only fractions of blue sky remained overhead, the air was still warm and light.

Hesitantly, Claaws stepped forwards and began to creep over to the spot where the figure had crashed. The rest of the group filed after her, everyone on edge and nervous. Just as they were about to reach it the figure shot up and spun around, and as she saw the purple streak on their shoulder, Kestrel realized with a bolt of terror who it really was.

At least seven feet tall, Vox towered over the rest of the group, who had instantly skittered away from the physical manifestation of the god. In the split second before chaos broke loose, Kestrel was able to scan their body, though her mind could only do so much too process it. Like Nebula, their skin was a dark, inky black, melting in with the nightlike sky above. One of their eyes was deep violet and slitted, like a cat’s, while the other was a normal human’s—except the purple iris, of course. Looped around their neck was a charm not unlike her own, but instead of an animal carving attached to the silver chain there was a dull amber oval, webbed by an elongated asterisk sign in black metal. On their forehead, looking somewhat like a tattoo and yet not, was an eye. It was round and almond-shaped, with one large optic that sat a dull blue, hazy and clouded over. Slashed across it was a long-since healed-over scar, cutting right through the mark. She could just barely see a jagged wound on their back, and with a flash of memories thought back to the blue jay Claaws had cut open yesterday. In addition to all of this, Kestrel spotted movement behind Vox’s first arms, and realized with a shiver they had four arms, instead of two. Clearly… not human. Despite their strange and intimidating form, though, the only clothing they had on was a pair of what looked like brown-colored pants, the left one awkwardly cuffed up by a silver shackle and loose chain, like something you would find on a prisoner in the 1600’s.

Prisoner…

Kestrel had no time to shake the notion away, though, as Joan suddenly bore her tiger form and shot at Vox, only managing to catch the god unawares for a moment. In that heartbeat, the two were poised with Joan’s claws outstretched towards Vox, the god’s eyes lightening to a complete white, before Vox angrily swiped out a hand, and though they didn’t touch Joan at all she was knocked off course and slammed into the earth with a painful crunch.

“You’re still going to try?” Vox spat at Joan, who was recovering with a limp. Mania edged their tone, and with a hiss they swept a glare over the rest of the group. “Why bother? I am a god in your world. Nothing you can possibly dream of will hurt me in the slightest.”

“Why bother?” Joan growled, her voice deep. She had sunk into a defensive crouch, while Vox stared at her with a burning red gaze. “Because I really know now. You’re not the narrator; you’re the villain. And you know what happens to antagonists, yes?”

“Please!” Vox scoffed. Kestrel could feel her legs shaking, and it took everything within her to not collapse to the ground. “You don’t know anything about this story. Nothing at all…” They still hadn’t made any move to attack any of the group, and Kestrel wondered whether it was out of fear or hesitation.

“I know as much as I need to!” Claaws suddenly snarled, and skidded to Joan’s side as a caracal. “You ruined everything for us! You killed Ember, you—” Vox’s scowl deepened, and in a second they had snapped their fingers, sending a gust of wind howling across the prairie. Kestrel felt it buffet her face, stinging at her skin, and finally she just had to desperately clasp onto her charm and let it fling her into the sky as a bird. When she was able to control the air around her, she cracked open her eyes to see the rest of her friends transformed, all furiously leaping at the god. Vox seemed to be having no trouble keeping them off, but… Kestrel wasn’t so sure. In fact, she might have even felt sorry for them if in the next second she hadn’t remembered Ember’s body stilling, and a red haze of anger seared through her mind.

No, she shouldn’t—she couldn’t feel sorry for Vox. They didn’t deserve anyone’s pity!

But what could she do?

As if by instinct, Kestrel’s wings rotated backwards, and she found herself turning tail and speeding away from the battle.

Stop it! she hissed at her thoughts. I’m supposed to be a hero and a good guy! I don’t want to run away! … but I do… This was all too much for her. She felt like her body was on the breaking point, the edge of oblivion, the event horizon. If she turned away now, where would she go? What would she do, live in this Garden forever? Now that would be too much… too terrifying a thought to even consider.

There was only one option.

Breathing in deeply, the nagging thought that she could very well meet her end while doing this present in the back of her mind, Kestrel turned and tucked her wings close to her body, praying this would work. Because she had seen before, whenever Vox had happened to cast a spell or anything of the sort, their eye had pulsed with energy, drawing power from it…

Down below Scylla had just shifted from human to eagle and back again, her form changing to wings in the beat of a second before she landed as a human behind Vox. Her fingers clenching as Joan swiped at Vox from the front, she landed on the god’s back and punched at their wound, sending more nebula-like blood spraying out. Vox screeched in pain and whirled around, seizing Scylla with two of their arms while using the others to parry Joan’s blow and cast her away. The closer Kestrel got, the more she could hear Vox spitting words, garbled and bleary but still in Latin. The flashing from the eye on their forehead on confirmed her theory, and in the last seconds Kestrel braced herself for impact and struck—

Vox gasped and reeled backwards and everyone was sent spinning away in a massive burst of power, slamming their eyes shut and instantly delving everyone into a dark sleep.

Except for Kestrel.

Blinking, an ethereal white glow swam into Kestrel’s vision as she opened her eyes and sat up. An odd tingling feeling was running up and down her arms and legs, making it feel like she had pins and needles everywhere.

“Just great!” a furious voice snapped, and Kestrel spun around to see Vox storming towards her, four arms swinging in irate gestures. Terrified, Kestrel crouched down to take up as little space as possible, but to her surprise the god stopped right in front of her, glaring down with piercing red eyes. “Wonderful! You just had to go and cast us both into oblivion!”

“...what?” Kestrel asked, confused. She uncurled herself a little bit as she saw Vox wasn’t attacking her, but she still stayed on guard if the need should come. Grimly Vox pointed a finger to the tattoo-eye on their forehead, whose pupil had gone completely black.

“You knocked me out,” they growled in annoyance. “So now we’re both stuck here until I can get back on.”

“...on?” Kestrel hated herself for sounding so slow, but she really did have no idea what was happening. Vox sighed and rolled their eyes, collapsing on the ground next to her.

“...but you have these, like, crazy powers,” Kestrel said to them. “Can’t you just, you know, poof?” Vox let out a mirthless laugh at the notion.

“How cute you think that,” they snorted, looking away. “But no, I can’t do anything in oblivion. Watch—” Raising a hand, they muttered “Et aves in aere volare,” and snapped their fingers. Kestrel scrambled away, unsure of what they just said, but the eye didn’t flash and nothing happened. “See? I’m just as powerless as you in here. Dreamscape, you might know it as.” Kestrel could think of nothing to say to that, and for many long moments towering god and blonde-haired girl sat next to each other in silence. “...so?” Vox finally said, glancing over at her.

“So?” Kestrel responded.

“So me,” Vox sighed, dropping their head into their arms. Kestrel looked at them oddly, a whole new perspective coming to light. At this moment, the character she’d always perceived as wicked, insane, and cold had never looked more human. Was this something they had, or something they were before? “I expect you have questions?” Vox asked, looking up. Kestrel’s mind immediately lit up, filling to the brim with unanswered queries.

“Would you answer them if I said?” she asked suspiciously. It was clear to her at this point that neither she nor the god would be able to hurt each other in any way, and the cool white atmosphere had helped calm her boiling emotions. Vox shrugged a shoulder, and Kestrel noticed the amber stone around their neck bounce as they did.

“I will if I can,” they said, looking around the white sky. “And I most likely can. Shoot.”

“Why were you so mean to us?” It was the first thing that popped into Kestrel’s head, paired with another. “Why did you kill Ember?” Vox’s eyes narrowed, shifting from a medium blue to a deeper reddish.

“I didn’t kill Ember,” they hissed, to Kestrel’s dismay. She must have hit a nerve. “Ember may have died, but it was not my fault!” The last few words were shouted with such ferocity Kestrel backed away, afraid of what might happen. “No, it wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t worth it all.” Tears began to form in their corner of their dark blue eyes, “Nothing was worth it, nothing I said or did or any of that was bad enough to put me in here…”

“In here? You mean you can’t leave?” Kestrel asked. Vox let out a bark of laughter, the chain around their ankle rattling.

“Believe me, Kestrel, if I could have I would have! The Garden is so cramped, so tight I can barely breathe some days.”

“Cramped?” Kestrel said in disbelief. What Vox called the Garden was one of the largest places she’d ever been to, weeks of travel with her friends not even getting them to the end. “But it’s so huge…”

“I’m from Cquerria,” Vox whispered, their voice suddenly quiet. Kestrel thought about the name for a second, trying to imagine how it would look. Suh-care-ee-ah… she couldn’t remember seeing such a word anywhere before. “We traverse the stars. If infinite galaxies are your neighbor’s homes, how small do you think the scope of this place is? I’m trapped here, that’s what. I’m trapped, I have been for so long now…” Pity tugged at Kestrel’s heartstrings at the distraught-sounding being, but she resolutely shoved it away. This was a monster, a mad god who had played with them all. They didn’t deserve her sympathy, not by a long shot. Still, her curiosity about Vox’s past and present urged her onwards with questioning.

“How long?” she queried.

“Seven thousand years,” Vox said heavily, to Kestrel’s start of shock. Seven thousand years?! she thought, surprise washing over her. Human civilization had only developed six thousand years ago—even before history as we know it, Vox had been in the Garden, and all alone at that? It made her feel…

“Well, why did you drag all of us in?” she asked instead, steamrolling over her own feelings. “And what are the charms about?”

“Charms,” Vox chuckled bitterly, fingering with the amber stone around their neck. “Charms are the bane of my existence. You see this? It means traitor in Cquerrian, and it’s what’s keeping me stuck in this wretched place. Ironic, isn’t it… how I did nothing wrong, nothing to betray them at all.” Kestrel hesitated, unsure of what the statement meant.

“Why can’t you just break it?” she finally said, biting her lip. “You have enough power to control weather, people’s forms, anything!”

“Could a god break a curse from a god?” Vox replied to her, silencing Kestrel. “It… it’s not up to me. The only way I escape is if I can break it, and there’s no way that’s happening.” For a heartbeat silence filled the air, then Kestrel found her tongue again.

“Why are we… here?”

Vox raised an eyebrow at the question, and Kestrel, groping for explanation, spread her arms out and gestured to everywhere. “...here. The Garden, the ‘oblivion’... why are you here?” Vox let out a huge breath, palming their forehead.

“Now that’s a question I can’t explain,” they sighed.

“Why not?” Kestrel asked, firing up.

“Because it’s just… so much,” Vox said, gesturing with one hand while keeping the other three resting on the ground. “Too many stories, too many sides of a battle… but I could show you if you really want to know.” Kestrel’s eyes flicked up at Vox’s forehead tattoo—the source of their power. To her dismay, the darkness had begun to fade, a bluish-silver hue returning. If they were forced to part ways, or if Vox attacked and she never knew their story… well, that just wasn’t right.

Vox breathed in deeply, then reached out, grabbing Kestrel’s arm. Instinctively she flinched away, just now remembering how tall and powerful the space-god was. “Touch it,” they said, pointing a finger to the eye-tattoo, the scar ripping over it uncomfortably obvious.

“What? Why?” Kestrel asked, slightly terrified at the physical contact with the god.

“This is my power, it is me,” Vox explained. “It is everything I am and will always show, even when I am in another form.” Kestrel thought of the recurring purple mark on Vox’s body and assumed it acted the same way the eye did. With a jerk she suddenly saw the eye flash blue, nearly as it was before, and all caution abandoned she put a hand onto Vox’s tattoo—

The white world fell away around here, and with a gentle catch she sank into someone else’s memories.

 

 

 

 

They existed only as stars and suns, as dark matter and the fabric of the universe. Their consciousness was asleep, unaware of anything around it as they drifted aimlessly in space. Then, like the ringing of a bell, sensations filled their mind and with a start they connected to another.

“Azraell!” the thought whispered urgently. “Azraell, we have to start out!”

“Must I?” Azraell moaned back, blanketed in the whorl of dark energy. “Iiari, it’s calm today, and much better than it was yesterday.”

“Yes!” Iiari snapped. “Or else we’ll be late, and I’m not making up excuses to Nadav when you don’t turn up!” Azraell crossly sniffed, then released themselves from the depths of space.

“What are we overseeing today?” Azraell asked, their physical form not yet taken. Iiari was silent for a moment, and Azraell waited for them to continue.

“Earth 1, it looks like,” they finally said back. “Hm, that’s new. I suppose we should support such a rare happenstance; normally they start themselves.” Azraell warmed, and with an inward collapse of light they stood up, stretching physical arms in a small, dark room.

“What in the name of Rainan are you supposed to be?” Iiari suddenly squawked, and Azraell turned around in surprise. Perched on a mahogany shelf on the other side of the room was a grayish-white cat, eyes pink with laughter. The only sign that they were Cquerrian was the elongated eye tattoo on their forehead.

“I’m honoring Earth,” Azraell said back, snorting. “Why do you ask?”

“Azraell, that is not what a human looks like!” Iiari laughed. “They don’t have four arms, for one thing…”

“Eh, their gods do… I think,” Azraell said, waving their friend off. “Anyways, what are you today?”

“Species is a cat, and female,” Iiari purred. “You?”

“Human, because yes that’s what I’m supposed to be, and I thought I’d just go with neither today,” Azraell said, glaring at Iiari. The silvery cat chuckled and shrugged her shoulders, jumping down to land neatly by their feet.

“We might as well begin, then…” she said, the eye on her forehead pulsing with blue light. Azraell nodded and did the same, and in a split second an orb appeared in front of the two, slowly rotating in a circle as light flicked on its green and blue surface. Azraell leaned backwards and closed their eyes, settling into the familiar routine.

“You take first shift?” they said, to Iiari’s murmur of assent. “Well, wake me up—that’s what they say?—when it’s my turn.” Then they shut down their mind, sinking into quiet…

 

 

“AZRAELL!”

The distraught wail exploded next to Azraell’s ear, and with a gasp they jolted upwards, slamming their head into the sloped ceiling. “Iiari?” they moaned, confusedly blinking. Now having taken the form of a golden-pelted lion, Iiari had her paws slammed down on Azraell’s chest. Her eyes were a wide bright, vibrant orange, terrified and broken.

“Help!” she cried, her voice cracking. “Azzie, I didn’t mean to—but I-I was just watching it when I saw a thing on the top and I went to move it away but it wasn’t a bit of spacedust or nebulæ or anything, and I interfered!” At this notion Azraell’s blood went cold, and they only had seconds to process the thought before there was a sharp rapping at the door. Iiari crouched onto the ground, shaking with fear. Azraell was unable to move and answer the knocking, knowing exactly who it would be.

 

 

Cquerrians were overseers of the universe, not true gods. Protocol was strict on their duties, but none more so than the fact that whatever you may do, you do not interfere with the workings of space and the planets, and especially the life. If you did… punishment was severe. Azraell spared Iiari, who had her paws over her face, one last glance, and then the door promptly opened. Standing at the edge of the doorway, a knife clutched smartly in their hand, waited a human-like figure on two legs, but their body was entirely made up of white light, only interrupted by a single eye in the center of their head and a mouth below.

“Azraell and Iiaria,” they said in a cold, displeased voice. “Interference with the planet Earth 1 has recently occurred. I’m sure that you know the consequences for you. Now—which one of you interfered?”

In the heartbeat that Azraell's friend hesitated, unwilling to give her own name, Azraell stepped out and said without thinking, “I did it.” Nadav blinked once, then slowly reached towards Azraell, clasping them by the arm.

“You will face the repercussions of your actions,” Nadav growled, his fury shining through for a second. Behind Azraell, Iiaria flinched and let out a small gasp, quickly smothering it with her plumy tail. “Earth 1 is one of the most advanced terrestrial planets in that galaxy. To interfere with their way of life is to most destroy the world. The punishment will be… immediate and severe.” Azraell stiffened as they saw a glint of silver light up the blade, terror coursing through their mind. They had only heard vague rumors, thrown to wind, of a Slashing… but they never thought it would happen to them. “Step forwards, Azraell.”

However, Azraell could not move to the request. Their legs had been frozen in place, each hand suspended in the air. It felt like they were about to move to their doom, to walk willingly to their death. How could they just… do such a thing? Nadav’s eyes narrowed, and with quick, precise movements he lifted the knife and brought it slicing down towards Azraell’s third eye.

That was the moment everything went wrong.

Azraell could barely control their own limbs, and just when the starmatter blade had nearly connected all four of their arms shot up, and they let out a cry of pain as it struck and dragged nebulæ from their body. Luckily, they did feel it spin away and at least not strike their eye, which would have nearly destroyed all their power. Just then there was a painful grunt and a shocked gasp from behind Azraell. Confused, they lowered their hands but stopped cold when they saw the starmatter knife buried in Nadav’s center, glossy nebulæ leaking from the serious wound. Slowly he raised his head and glared at Azraell, movements stiff and awkward.

“You dared to try and erase me?” he snarled, light erratically crackling over his skin. Azraell numbly tried to deny it, knowing they had meant no harm to come to the Overseer, but Nadav silenced him, and with a violent gesture with the starmatter knife he sent splitting pain through Azraell’s forehead. The he spat out a snap of incanted language, and terrible chill was punched through Azraell’s core, causing the being to collapse in on themselves. With no more fuss than it takes for a leaf to be brushed by the wind…

...they were gone.

 

 

 

“Iiari!” The shout burst from Azraell’s mouth with very real noise, but echoed silently around a spacious room, fluorescent stars twinkling in the sky overhead. Azraell paused for a moment, and in that second the quiet settled over them, sending shivers running down their back. “Where… am I?” The ground beneath them was cool and sharp, sparkling with dewy wetness. It couldn’t be, but… it reminded them of Earth. The fallen trees stacked in the middle, the pale moon overhead, even the tiny flame in the kindling.

But Earth wasn’t where they belonged; Cquerria was. Cquerria where their friends, their home, their life was. “I-It’s fine,” they said out loud. “I-if I just explain to Nadav what happened, it’ll be okay.” Then they loosed their physical to rejoin Cquerrian entity, but…

They opened their eyes. Eyes? No, no, no! This was all wrong! Swearing furiously, Azraell spun around on their heel to try and summon their force, even though they could feel nebulæ dripping into their face from their slashed eye. Just then they noticed something bouncing against their chest. Confused, they halted and held it up to the dim firelight, anger shooting through their mind as they saw what it was and sensed the presence of a binding spell within it.

A dull amber stone, set against a spidery black cross and ‘x’ sign. A symbol, a mark for something Azraell was most certainly not.

‘Traitor’.

Their fists clenching, Azraell frantically yanked at the charm, trying to wrench it away from their neck, but whatever powerful spell Nadav had put on it wouldn’t be released anytime soon. Something in their mind snapped, and with a snarled-out spell Azraell snapped their fingers, and a silver clasp and chain appeared around their ankle, shoving up the cuff of their pants.

“Prisoner I am, Nadav? Traitor to Cquerria?” they hissed, hoping the Overseer could hear them. “Well, then… don’t think I’ll forget it.”

 

 

 

With that, Kestrel found herself surfacing from the god’s mind as if she were erupting from the water, everything she had ever thought to be true about the Garden and Vox themselves changed. Her head spinning, she looked over at Vox, who was still seated on the white floor, staring numbly at their hands. “I… I…” she stammered, unsure of what to say.

“You understand?” Vox whispered, their voice hoarse and cracked. “Each second I spend here, each moment is another stabbing pain. I never did anything wrong… I never did… but yet somehow I still recieved the blame.” Then their eyes turned a hard, cold, and dull red, burning with anger. “Iiari. If I’d never stepped in Nadav’s way, I’d still be in Cquerria, overseeing the stars as I should be. As I should be…” Kestrel watched them for a moment, almost feeling as if her own eyes would turn blue with regret and sadness.

“But you didn’t,” she said quietly, sitting down next to Vox—Azraell. “If… if you had let Iiari go, if you had let her be—slashed—then how would you feel?” She turned her head and found her eyes meeting Vox’s, one slitted and catlike and their other mirroring her own. “I think… i-imagine it. All these years, decades you spent alone in the Garden… wouldn’t it feel like that in Cquerria? If you had let your friend be slashed by Nadav…”  

Vox was silent for a moment. “All this time I spent in the Garden, punishing myself and everyone I ever knew within my mind, it… I’m not who I used to be. Insanity is such a human affliction… perhaps it's because I’ve looked like one for so long. It hurts, it hurts so badly. But, Kestrel… I never thought of it, never that way… I… it…” For a second their whole frame was still, their quick breaths the only sound in the white oblivion. “It’s all gone now.” Kestrel noticed the oblivion beginning to fade around them and the Garden replacing it, Vox’s eyes returned to a cool, clear turquoise shade and the tattoo sky blue beneath the scar. “Everything I needed to feel and everything that hurt me.”

Kestrel sucked in a shocked gasp as Vox took the charm in one of their hands and, in one quick movement, crushed the chain to nothing more than sand. The traitor charm fell to the ground with a dull thunk, sitting pitifully in between the hay grasses. "Well done, Nadav. I'd never have figured out what you put on it otherwise. Rather weak spell for such an occasion, but I suppose it's rare enough to keep me here for thousands of years..." Vox chuckled under their breath, and suddenly Kestrel remembered their return of power in the Garden. She tensed herself for attack, but Vox grinned and shook their head. “Oh, come now, don’t be like that. Didn’t I tell you it was all gone?” Kestrel’s eyes flicked down to their ankle and saw that along with the charm, the silver chain had vanished as well. "I don't believe I'd injure you now even if I desired to. You've helped me too much for that."

“Of course, I don’t believe I’ll be returning to Cquerria,” they told her, voice hardening for a moment. “I don’t think I ever really can see Nadav again, come back to the place that hurt me so. But, perhaps, Earth has something more to offer than a superficial prison in the shape of a Garden… and maybe one day… who knows?... we’ll meet again.”

Kestrel watched, her friends beginning to moan and shift around her, as Azraell spun on their heel and their entire body shattered into miniscule specks of light, each swirling upwards until they vanished from sight.

Part 18

~~

Scylla’s eyes snapped open with a start as a tiny fleck of pinkish light drifted down in front of her, settling on the ground and immediately vanishing. Letting out an enormous sneeze, she sat up with a throbbing temple, spotting her friends just now waking up around her. “Guys!” Scylla called out, her voice hoarse with relief. Only a moment later, though, fury shot through her at the thought of Vox, insanity bright in their rage-red eyes as they fought with her.

Scylla scrambled to her feet, her fingertips sharpening into eagle-like talons, until she saw Kestrel standing numbly the in the middle of the field, surroundings by specks of floating light. “Kestrel!” Scylla called, racing towards her friend. “Are you okay? Where’d Vox go—wait, did you manage to kill them or something?” Kestrel turned towards Scylla in surprise, and she spotted tears glistening in the falcon-girl’s eyes.

“Oh—no, Azrae—Vox isn’t dead. They… they’re not here anymore,” she said slowly, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Where’d they run off to, then?” Scylla growled, her fingers clenching. Kestrel looked uncomfortable and slightly miserable, as if she’d just gone through something heavily emotional.

“They… it’s not…” But just then she jerked away as the rest of her friends staggered upwards, all muttering in annoyance.

“Kestrel?” Joan said, crouching down to pick up her sword, which had been lying abandoned on the ground. “Do you know what happened? All of a sudden I just… blacked out, I guess.”

“And where the heck is Vox?” Claaws snapped. “We were just now fighting them.” Kestrel let out a massive sigh, then collapsed on the ground.

“It’s a long story,” she murmured, staring at the sky. “But… I’ll tell it to you.” Intrigued though still suspicious, Scylla sank down next to Kestrel and listened as she began to tell what she knew.

As Scylla listened to the tale, regret and sadness began to wash over her body, building a pit in her stomach where she felt everything she’d ever said and done in the Garden felt made-up, and worst of all, she did what she never thought she would; feel… pity for Vox and everything that they had suffrered through.

When Kestrel was done, an awful silence hung in the air for a few moments, letting the sick feeling in Scylla deepen. To her, it felt like nothing had been right since Ember died, nothing had been real. Vox’s sad story only made it sharper, and if it hadn’t been for Booksy she might have thought it had really been a dream all along.

“But… what we have isn’t just made-up,” the owlgirl said, drawing all attention to her. For once, Booksy didn’t look awkward under many eyes, only quietly proud. “All this time I spent in here… I don’t know if I’ve ever felt closer to a group of people by the end. At this point, each and every one of you are my best friends in the world.”

“I agree,” Claaws said forcefully, her red-dyed blonde hair swinging as she gestured with her hands. “Even though it’s been so, so hard it’s been amazing at the same time. It sounds so cliché, but I feel like a changed person. Changed by… all of you.”

Suddenly Scylla felt choked, unable to get any words out. Gulping in a quick breath, she was about to speak when mist began to wreathe around her ankles, so thick she couldn’t see through it.

“What the heck?” St Owl exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Scylla tried to wave the mist away but already the Garden was vanishing, whitening and paling and disappearing from view—she tried to run to her friends but it was too late—and then it was all gone—

 

 

 

Soft sheets covered Scylla’s face, smothering her in warmth. With a gasp she flailed upwards, clawing at the blankets to pull them off of her. Sitting up, her lanky black hair askew, Scylla glanced around her room, cold sweat still glistening on her face. Her heart was fluttering like a bird, and her breath came out in short gasps. Shivering, she pulled her pillow up behind her head and pressed it flat again, smoothing out the crease her head had left. For some reason she couldn’t shake the feelings of terror from a dream she’d just had, though she couldn’t remember any specific details.

Sighing and shaking her head, she rolled over and slouched out of bed, her eyes sticky with sleep. A little twinge of excitement struck her as she remembered it was Saturday as well as the day she and her friends were finally going to the fair at the amusement park. Quickly dressing, Scylla was just slipping on socks when she heard her mom call her downstairs. Though she couldn’t fully hear what her mom had said, she did pull on her shoes and sprint down the stairs, nearly tripping over the last step. Skidding around the corner into the kitchen, Scylla came out as her mom was turning back around to the stove. “What is it, mom?” Scylla asked, sliding into her chair at the breakfast table.

“Oh! Scylla! Good, you’re down,” her mom replied, moving to her daughter with a small brown box in her hand. “Here, this came in for you today. It’s from someone named ‘Az’. Do you know them from school?”

“I guess,” Scylla murmured as she took the box, though privately she couldn’t recall anyone with the name or nickname ‘Az’ from anywhere. Tearing open the cardboard package, she peeled away the tape to reveal a small black case with a note stuck onto the back. Scanning the note, Scylla saw that it said simply ‘It’s yours now.’ Curious, she snapped open the box to reveal a small necklace, curled into a thin loop of silver with an eagle charm attached to the end. “Huh,” Scylla said, closing the box and putting it down. It was pretty, for sure, but she had no idea where it came from. Turning the package over, she read the address again, even more perplexed at the lack of address.

A loud ringing yanked her away from the mystery, and Scylla leapt for the phone, but her mom was right next to it, and with a stern glare snatched it away from Scylla. “Hello?” her mom said into the phone, then paused for a moment to listen. Removing her hand and covering the speaker, she glanced over at Scylla. “It’s just Ember calling to remind you about the theme park today. As if you’d forget—I’ve never known you to be more excited for something!”

“Ember?” Scylla said, gasping slightly. Her mom raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly.

“...yes, Ember. Your friend? Long brown hair? Remember?” she said. Scylla nodded in puzzlement, unsure of what she could be forgetting.

“I know, I know. But I thought something bad had happened to her…” she responded.

“Something bad?” her mom asked, surprised. “No, no, Ember is fine. In fact, she’s never sounded better! What on earth made you think that?”

Scylla narrowed her eyes, staring down at the small black box. “I don’t know…”

 

 

 

Whistling under her breath, Ember sat in front of the entrance to the amusement park, her legs folded over one another as she waited for the rest of her friends to arrive. She was about to pull out her phone when the screeching of a car jolted her, and Ember looked up to see three girls tumbling out of a gray Sedan, all laughing like mad with each other. “Nebula! Scylla! Icy!” Ember exclaimed, scrambling to her feet to meet them. “You made it!”

“Of course we did, Ember,” Icy said, grinning madly. “You don’t think we’d miss this, did you? Jeez, we’ve been planning this day for weeks! It’s the best time to go, when they’ve got all their stalls set up and stuff!” Ember nodded happily, glancing over Nebula’s shoulder.

“Do you know when Little Reader’s supposed to get here?” she asked nervously, not wanting to start without her other friends. “She said she’d take Claaws, Danie, and Joan; Booksy’s bringing, Eria, St Owl, and Kestrel.”

“Carpool of the century,” Scylla murmured, sparking another chorus of giggles from Nebula and Icy, but just then the other two mentioned chauffeurs pulled up, and the crowd of friends grew substantially larger. Ember could barely see the others’ parents waving them goodbye over the excited talking, but she did manage to flail her hand at them before the girls rushed into the amusement park.

Once inside, Ember had to stop for a moment to take it all in. At the height of summer, the sun glaring overhead, it really was the best day to come. Roller coasters blotted out the sun as they flashed over the tracks, excited screams following them. Countless stalls and vendors were set up alongside each other, selling food and games and souvenirs of anyone’s imagination. “Where should we go first?” Ember asked, her mouth gaping slightly open.

“I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving,” St Owl moaned, rubbing her stomach. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

“Alright, sounds good!” Ember said, peering out over the mass of people to try and find a lunch place. Finally she spotted a booth selling soft pretzels and hamburgers and managed to help all her friends through the crowd to it. Fishing in her wallet for money, Ember squeezed in line behind Eria as the line crept forwards at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually, though, Ember found herself at the front of the line, hurriedly ordered her food and stepped out to wait besides Little Reader.

“Euugh, it’s way too crowded over here,” Scylla complained as man’s elbow jostled into her ribs. “If we’re going to eat, I want to be able to do it without someone stepping on my toes.”

“Whatever you want,” Eria yawned, seeming more exhausted than anyone else. “You lead on.” Scylla tossed her black braid over her shoulder and marched off through the crowd, everyone else falling into a familiar line as they wound through the throng.

Just as Ember was about to settle down on a park bench, a stall across the path caught her eye, sticking out from the others. Instead of being gaudy and flashy, littered with blinking lights and neon colors like the rest of them, its walls were nothing more than a plain black with a few stars stuck onto the sides, a bluish-violet curtain pulled to each side. It was too far for Ember to make out the wares, but if she squinted she could see tiny flecks of silver against velvet black cases.

What was most odd, though, was the vendor leaned back against their chair, a dying cigarette in their mouth. Their head was almost completely shaved save the thinnest layer of fuzz against their dark skin, easy and casual clothes draped over their body. Tattoos wound up and down their arms, but the brightest of all was an Egyptian-looking blue eye in the middle of their forehead with a thin line slashed across it. Strangely enough, no one else appeared to be noticing the vendor’s stall, all the whining little kids and haggard mothers and chattering teens blithely walking past it as if it didn’t exist.

Confused at why she felt something right on the tip of her mind, Ember hesitantly turned to the rest of her friends to point the booth out. “Hey, guys,” she said, catching their attention. “Have you seen that person before?” Claaws swallowed down a massive bite of a hot dog and shook her head no, and to Ember’s disappointment no one else could seem to recognize the mysterious salesman.

But then Ember looked over at Kestrel, who was surprisingly wearing a smile on her face. She let out a quick yell and waved at the vendor, whose head jerked up. More shockingly, the vendor flashed a grin back, and even laughed out loud when Kestrel hollered, “Now that’s what a human looks like!”

Perplexed, Ember nudged Kestrel’s shoulder and whispered, “Do you know them?” Kestrel shook her head and turned away with an easygoing ‘nahh’, but Ember was still suspicious. Finally deciding to take it into her own hands, she set aside her finished meal and got up, dodging around the theme park commuters to reach the booth.

“Excuse me?” she asked, grasping around for her money, to which the vendor sat up and leaned forwards. “What are you selling?”

“Oh, not much,” they said, their voice surprisingly airy and sharp, unlike what Ember had expected. “But here’s something you might like…” With deft fingers they hooked a silver charm off the velvet case and handed it to Ember, the fine silver chain crinkling in her hand. Lying on the flat surface of her palm, elongated and stretched as if in motion, was a silvery charm carved in the shape of a fox.

In an instant everything came rushing back to her mind, so powerful she staggered backwards. Spinning around, she saw a knowing smirk on the vendor’s face and realized with a gasp who it was. “You?... it was…” To this the vendor only shrugged their shoulders, but for a moment their eyes flashed bright pink. Her hands on her head, Ember frantically danced in a circle, desperately trying to keep any memories from slipping out of her mind. Knowing everything, all of it had been real… I… I can’t forget any of this! she thought. What if I do? What would happen if I—

Then she froze in place, her hands falling to her sides. Hastily, Ember scrambled for the bag she’d brought and dragged out a spiral-bound notebook. Clicking the tip of a pen open, Ember leaned back against the booth with the vendor watching with interest over her shoulder and began to write in neat, small print.

 

‘Tiny flecks of red and yellow glowed in the coals as a lone figure sat around them, relishing in the warmth emanating from the embers. Pausing for a second to poke the fire with a stick, blackening the end of the wood, the figure leaned back and breathed in deeply…’

END

 

~~

This is it.

Wow.

That's all I can say. This story has been so much incredible fun to write, and I absolutely adore it at this point. The doc I've been writing it on is now officially 115 pages long, one of the longest stories I've ever written. 

Thank you all for coming along with me on this adventure. Keep an eye out for something in the future...

~Clouded Leopard 

Why does the 2nd rule seem like it is pointing right in my face?

Anyway, can I reserve a spot?  I really don't have the time right now, sorry. 

Speachless. Im. Still. Speechless.

Alright, now im not. THAT WAS AMAZING CL OMK WHY DID IT HAVE TO END MY FACE IS EXPLODING THAT WAS AMAZING OMK....

Ill stop now.

Wait, wait, wait, one unanswered question.....why did Kestrel see Icy when she went up there?