* * *
Elete
* * *
This is admittedly difficult for me. I probably shouldn't be here. I should be at rest in my quarters, especially after participating in the ceremony to restore the Treaty. But here I am in my usual place in the observation seats overlooking the Trial, dodging glares from the Jhe o'Radia. Really, I should be ashamed of myself, but he hasn't ordered me to bedrest yet and 'Sy hasn't bothered to back his own orders that I rest with any real power.
It's only my body that's tired now. My mind is clear and alert. I feel better between the ears than I have in quite some time. Possibly better than I have since Ivae died. That's something I try not to think back on, but they say it all comes back to you right before you die.
I have at least a week. I can see it very clearly. So, knowing that my body's the only thing affected adversely by my impending death, and knowing that my mind's probably in the best state it ever has been, how can I not try to witness as many things as I can before I die? Especially while 'Sy's busy and can't give me an earful about it in the process. Yes, I'm a conniving, scheming, underhanded wretch of a Poet, and I know it, so don't hassle a man who's a pace or two away from his death-bed.
I have two Poets on the floor, so I already have eyes and ears up at the front, and I can review what's happening at any time. I don't even need to be here, with that logic. That said, I am thinking about Ebrelle right now and not so much the events occurring on the floor beneath me. Other than witnessing his Trial, I have not seen Ebrelle nor spoken with him yet. While I've attended resurrection ceremonies in my time, it has usually been in my office as Poet King, to reclaim one of my lost pupils. Standing as Regent of Audiva Rocale this morning was quite a reviving slap in the face of just what a plight my brother is in, and may have been in all this time.
I don't think much of my brother. That reads as a layered statement, and it's intended as one. He has plagued me since my youth and, at many times, I was absolutely convinced he wanted to kill me. He has been so dangerous for me to be around that 'Sy appoints shadow guards to me any time I'm to have an audience with my brother. He is maddeningly condescending, juvenile, and entirely too possessive of any one person under his height (ie: everyone). He is also my brother, and he is hurt.
Someone needs to be watching him. Of course, as soon as I think of that, I feel 'Sy bump against my mind--
It's taken care of.
And then of course he must follow that up with--
Why are you in the stands? You should be in bed.
Silly me, as if being fully involved with a Trial would keep 'Sy from mothering me. I feel a warmth inside my chest and smile in spite of the henpecking, or maybe because of it.
Nevertheless, I need to see my brother now.
'Sy pauses before his reply. I'm not surprised, considering how busy he is right now. He's likely trying to think of an Akribastes child that could keep an eye on me while I'm out. We're starting to run out of those. Please allow Gerude to accompany you, Jhe h'Logos. The others I would prefer remain here to witness the Trial. Feel free to bring along any Poets that you feel would be appropriate to accompany you in such a place. Which of course means that he's just given me permission to take along Jhe Blackirons, who I'm sure would live inside Jhe Gerude's shadow if he wasn't afraid that 'Sy would interpret that as some sort of marriage proposal. I'm sort of impressed with Gerude, he's managed to keep a boyfriend safe from his Father far longer than Stevane ever has.
Jokes aside, it's interesting to consider taking along Gerude, who did go to the recent mission in Audiva Rocale, but did not finish up in such a grandiose manner as Gerald. Of course, a rare few ever manage to live up to Gerald's grandiosity, but that's just the boy's way. Gerude is easygoing, notoriously coolheaded, and hasn't any real issues with Ebrelle as far as I recall. That puts him ahead of Gerald and Jenny, one who was captured by the King and the other being his granddaughter. It's a wise choice, all told. I'm sadly not as familiar with Gerude as I could be, as he is one of the Armed that keeps avoiding the Poet Hall due to the prevailing fear among many non-Mixed Armed that prolonged exposure to Poets may make you become one. Of course, the logic of that breaks down when you consider his association with Erynn, who is about as Armed as your common rutabaga.
Gerude and Erynn are conveniently placed together amongst a group of Armed and Poets in the stands that also includes a few more familiar faces. The pervading aura of a group hangover hovers over them all. I'm certainly glad that someone managed to have fun last night, during all that tragedy and mayhem. The two boys accompany me with a bit of alarm - certainly a lot of unusual things are happening these days.
I note Jhe Gerald's attitude before I leave. He doesn't even notice me approach the group, nor does he notice my departure. He only has eyes for the Trial below, and he's much more alert and intent than his friends, despite the hangover. He's completely fixated on Katherine. I can think of a number of explanations for that, but I'll leave the boy to keep them in the privacy of his own heart.
* * *
Cade
* * *
I'm in their lands now, after weeks of careful and slow travel. I thought I would feel better now that I've run so far from the Beast. But I still feel sick, as if something's welling up inside me. When I sleep, I see an oily blackness ebbing around me, rippling. I'm laying on top of it, floating, curled and calm. I'm not even touching it, I'm sort of hovering over it. I don't know what the dream means. It sets me on edge. Everything sets me on edge.
I keep thinking about what will happen when I die. I know it won't matter where I am or where I run from here - the Beast will eat me. I feel its breath at my back in the silent moments, and I know I am a marked man. Whatever the regents did to me, it may be permanent. What if I live another fifty years? A hundred? It won't matter if I'll still go to the same place when I die. I won't join my honored ancestors, see my gods, be reunited with my lost family. I will be reunited with the Beast. I'm starting to wonder what's the point of living, then, if I'll fetch up there regardless. It's only putting off the inevitable.
...I've got to keep on going. The inevitable is worth putting off.
* * *
The memory stops, and I'm waiting in the black void once more. I can sense the four around me - Judge, Trident, Peacekeeper, Advocate - but I can't see them.
I can't get the rest. It breaks off here. The Advocate sounds confused. I know I am. I never thought I had these memories in the first place - but that's the point of forgetting, isn't it?
Hrm. Is it in the diary? Or are there pages missing? Camden pauses for a moment. No, even with the pages gone, you have enough power to be able to read the spirit of the diary, if not the words. He's frustrated. Why so excited to pry into my damn memories? It's like I'm a roast that everyone's taking their turn to carve into.
Nul does hide things. There's the grumbling voice of the Judge. You told me that Ebrellin-i had to clean himself of Nul's filth. I don't see how Cade-Patrick should be different.
Nul didn't keep my memories. The entire point was that I hide them from him so that he wouldn't know that killing me off would be a prudent move. I'm surprised to hear myself speak up. Why should I be helping them? But then, what else is there to do but die? I'm still not very keen on the death thing.
How do you know? The Judge's voice cuts through me and my self-assuredness. Nul has already tried to kill you several times during your incarceration here. How do you know that you hid those memories from him, considering that you waded in his very energy for most of your blighted life?
My silence gives away more than I'd like it to. I can't give an answer. I honestly thought Nul didn't know.
What if he was just biding his time until you were no longer useful, and then planned to kill you off so that the Beast could rise?
Not true. Couldn't be. Damnit, it's so hard to lie to myself in here.
If that's the case, then there must be something about you that makes you very useful, says the Advocate. We were trying to get to the part when you agreed to work for Nul, so that we could find out more. So that we could see clearly whether you committed crimes of your own free will. Nul is obscuring whatever we're trying to find out, so it's likely that your importance to him will give us information Nul doesn't want us to know.
I'm still silent.
You're a political prisoner. We have no desire to raise a Beast from behind its seal. We can give you safe harbor, Patrick. But you have to help me. You have to help me see what your past was if you want me to help you live.
The Judge snorts. It's always bribery with you.
The Advocate laughs. And I could say that it's always intimidation with you, but don't we switch our roles often enough when there's no one to notice? Now, let's get cracking. My concentration can only hold for so long. Can we have nap-time soon? Camden lets out a weary sigh.
I don't know how to help you. I can't get back memories I don't remember. I might as well not have them.
I can help. I can clean you. You just have to be aware enough to swear an oath.
A cold hand crawls down my spine. Swear an oath?
People can't just be absolved just like that. There's an exchange. A payment, if you will. Without it, I'm powerless in my most important function as Advocate. I can stay 'Sy's hand, but I can't place my own upon you unless you accept it.
That doesn't seem like such a high payment. So what? I'll accept, then.
There's the tiniest inkling of a smile from her, but I don't wonder if I've made the wrong choice. It'll hurt. You do realize that? She sounds concerned for me, which is the real shocker. Nobody's ever been concerned for me. Maybe for Patrick, back when he had his original life, but not for Cade.
Pain doesn't matter to me. It's just another thing to wait through.
What if it kills you? In her whispered inquiry I can't tell if she's concerned or excited. What if it hurts so much that you die from shock? What if your last thoughts are the most painful ones of your life before you wriggle into the maw of the Beast and dissolve into dripping saliva?
That still won't be as excruciating as what I'd do to him, intones the Judge.
I mull that through. There's not enough time to decide. It's not fair. I've never had a shot at a real life, a real Will, a real self, and there's no time left for me now. Out of all my options, I'm left to choose the least repulsive. But Nul doesn't kill that painfully, does he? His servants do, yes, but that's only because we think it's fun. Nul isn't even cold. Nul is numbness. Oblivion. The best way to go - maybe I'll be so oblivious that I won't feel the Beast eat me.
The Advocate has presented a new option in life, though, and I'm intrigued by it: a way out. Nul was my refuge from the inevitable, but the inevitable was still lingering in the back of my mind. It's why I kept a diary, after all. To remind myself not to die, not to give myself away and let Nul kill me. But Nul's known all along, hasn't he? Nul's been using me all along, and he always meant to kill me off and feed me to that terrible thing once I stopped being someone he could use. I thought I was special, damnit! I was! I was special, so how dare that fucker trick me? He's going to finally get his from the Radians, though. He's made a big mistake, using me like that. I just know it.
I'll do it your way then, Advocate.
A hand extends. It's the first thing I've been able to see since my vision was first filled with inky blackness. It's a woman's hand, not a baby's. Eyes are gazing at me from beyond where the hand fades into the darkness. They are a bright blue, almost white, with golden pupils.
I take the hand.
I regret it.
* * *
I don't so much feel myself being jerked down as I remember it happening a few moments ago. The action was so quick that it was barely notable, save for its speed. I am in a new place now, a new world, and it is very white. It is a large room, possibly with a domed ceiling. Things are looking at me from what could be balconies or stands along the high walls. She's standing beside me, the Advocate, dressed all in white robes that I've never seen the like of. It's too ornate and flowy for Radian clothing, too structured and severe for Aurocan wear. There are so many details, beads, glints of embroidery and trim, knots and sigils and strange writings... I'm lost in the details.
The Advocate takes my chin and lifts it so that I am looking her in the eyes. Fear stabs through my chest with the realization that I can't look away from them. I think this'll be the end of me. Not really a bad way to go, staring into a girl's eyes. They're terrible, but they're kind.
I see that creepy smile on her face now. My guts are turning ice cold. I'm glad I'm watching her, though - it keeps my focus away from the rest of this place. I think there are others watching here. I don't want to pay attention to them. I don't want to feel them.
"Don't mind them. They're just friends. Others who perform my same function. We all have our different territories, but we share this place."
Of course, now I want to look around, as much as this place makes my skin crawl. Still, her eyes keep my gaze locked to hers.
"Not that I would ever intrude on your work, madam, but I wanted to note how impressed I am by your acquisition of such a rare specimen. It's not often that I see one so direly condemned accept the oath." The comment comes from one of the figures watching. While I can't see him, from the corner of my eye I can tell they all have similar robes to the Advocate's. Direly condemned? Does that mean I'm more special than the average wretch who ends up in this terrifying place?
The Advocate raises an eyebrow, her smile pleased and pitying at once. "Oh? Really? I don't play collecting games with Mercy, you know. You were always one to keep count, though, weren't you, Ed-huar-teo'sisthi?" The word comes out strange. It doesn't even sound like a word at all, the language is so foreign to me.
"Shh. He's afraid enough as it is." A calmer voice, female this time, quiets the discussion. She's serene enough that she quells even my fears. "You don't have the most room to talk, Dharahni-seohs. Always making it into a game or a contest for them." Dharahni-seohs? But I thought the Advocate's name was Katherine. Katherine Cruxradia with a bunch of Radian titles attached if you want to be picky about it. Wait, is this girl Katherine? Does she really look like Katherine did? She is most definitely the Advocate, but can I really call this creature a girl or a person at all? In this place she's more a force of nature than anything lesser. All of the figures here are like that. Too much power, too much importance. Where the fuck am I?
The Advocate snorts, her lip making a weird upwards quirk with the utterance. "This is no mere game. I see it as a sacred hunt, as does my partner. I am always serious about my hunts, as you know, Ja-hovatro-eohi." The figure only sighs in response and gives no further objection. Wait, she's been hunting me?
"It's too late to back out, now that you've entered this space." Her voice is calm and even, and bears no judgement in it. "Everyone asks if they can, at this part, so I've grown used to telling them no." She sounds sad at that last bit. Well, I am too. I want to get out of this creepy place. Nul wasn't as creepy as this. "It won't take long. All I really had to do was take you here, and all you really had to do was agree to be brought. Understand?"
No, I don't.
She holds my chin more firmly. She takes her other hand and raises it to my cheek. My nerves tremble. It's a comforting gesture, yes - right up until her fingers curl around the back of my head. With her first hand on my chin, she has the proper grip to--
"It's all a matter of getting the proper leverage," she says, "so that I can show you from the proper angle." With a quick push of her hand and deft twist of her wrists, she turns my head and snaps my neck.
* * *
