"The Lighthouse."
ANOTHER PAGE TURNED, and the next chapter began; perhaps it would end with nobody getting upset and losing their head. With Mairyell and Aeris Kasio fleeing to safer heights and then taking a dabble into crime fighting, the House of Grim's occupants was now reduced to two: ITZAL SLYRE and Solus Grim. The former's highly antagonistic nature and light-hearted scheme had been too much for the young ones, but the latter was hardly fazed. Which was to be expected, for the stitch-lipped chimera had much experience with the notorious Reaper and knew how to tread lightly around him. Indeed, for his wizened experience and fearlessness (or alternatively, jaded indifference) had been the very thing that kept Slyre from truly tearing into him. For the man's earlier dismal company lacked it, and now they were quite motherless.
But not being one for social niceties, Solus prompted him to get on with it.
"Yes, very well then. I can see you're desperate to know what this is all about," the Reaper crowed loudly, stretching his gray-skinned mouth and flashing his red teeth.
His eyelids narrowed over his black pupils. "But first, let's make sure that nothing here is conducted in vain," he added cryptically.
He then paused deliberately, as if trying to squeeze in one more opportunity to frustrate the Necromaster. But after a moment, he hunched over slightly, his unhooded head tilting as his voice sunk to a lower volume than before. As if he was about to reveal a secret. Bringing his right hand to his chin inquisitively, his white pupils rotated on the outer rim of his eyes like little moons orbiting dark earths.
"Be careful with how you answer, Solus Grim," Slyre asked with unusual care. "Do you love Rina Alice Genno ... or do you not?"
Solus squinted his eyes slightly as he listened to the Reaper. When he received the final question, his shoulders untensed, slumped down a little, relaxed. "I think you already know the answer, but..." He stopped for a moment to decide what he was about to say next. "Yes... I do."
"And do you actually want her back? Even if she's all shriveled up and weak from age?" Slyre continued, tilting his head the other way.
"I doubt you need another skeleton in your closet, Solus," he jested with a sneer.
"An extra skeleton wouldn't hurt..." Solus glumly jested back.
"Why?" Slyre asked simply.
That was when Solus looked down at the ground, at his own feet. Why did he still want her back after all these years? What if she was a shriveled up old bag plugged into a life support machine? But then again, Solus already had a solution for the latter. And having dealt with this individual before him in many of his lifetimes, as well as today while the Kasios were here, he realized that he shouldn't listen to what he says, those extra words he adds to taunt you, make you doubt what you believe. Instead, he chose to look beyond them, straight at the point of his questions, and the true meaning of his answers.
"I... I don't know. I guess... I guess I just want to see her again. I did train her after all. Her not being here feels..." He stopped. He found his answer, and he didn't like it either, just because how pathetic it sounded in his head. "I want her back because I'm lonely..."
The Reaper's anticipating smile slowly faded. Lonely? He stood up straighter, his hands retreating behind his back. His black pupils still trained on Solus's skull, his white pupil came dangerously close to aligning with them. His voice became bereft of silly or teasing tones, which was highly unlike his usual demeanor.
"So is she," Slyre said, almost as if he was struggling to confess that.
Solus noted Slyre's change of tone. He was strangely sincere. It seemed so unnatural and wrong, that Solus wasn't really sure if he could truely believe him, not like he could before. But despite his doubts, the chemicals in his brain forced his face to finally express emotion. His eyes widened in surprise. "Is she really...?" His face showed guilt, and a tinge of sadness.
"Yes," he lied, still not grinning.
Now I've got him. The Reaper was jubilant inside, but he dared not let such mortal feelings surface. Slyre cleared his throat, looking thoughtful for a moment as his right thumb and pointer finger traced the white patch of skin around his mouth, as though he was stroking a full goatee. He didn't actually have facial hair, but it seemed that he liked to play as though he did. His eyes fully turned from Solus, scrying through the ceiling at some unforeseen feature. In actuality, the Reaper was glancing at the immaterial information sinking below the town of Thorpe from a distance. Some demons had been killed by the Kasios.
His smirk returned. "Like I said earlier, you've merited my mercy these past two centuries, Solus," he remarked, glancing at him sideways with his black pupils.
"So I kept the girl alive, even though I was going to utterly destroy her for what she had become," he hinted darkly, his voice sounding almost sickened with the thought.
"Layna had one hour..." Solus said, looking at the body of the dead mother. "I guess Rina gets one too, right?"
The reaper followed the hunter's gaze. A smooth, silky chuckle rasped from his throat. "No, not quite, but that is a good guess," he lied, then glancing back at him.
"I'll give you a free question, I suppose. Layna attempted to cheat me. She wanted one hour to see her children, but oh, Mairyell certainly shortchanged her, now didn't he?" Slyre explained with a nod.
"Do you feel the soul memories seeping in? 'An hour for an hour', hmm?" the reaper asked him, his black pupils glaring at him whilst the white ones looked at ExMortis, so dormant and sleepy.
"I'll owe you an hour of my time, for anything imaginable I'm guessing?" Solus replied.
Slyre cocked his head, his rictus grin conveying his condescension. "Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves," he stated with a chuckle.
"I'm going to let you visit her for two full hours... in exchange for one hour of your time. It'll start from the moment she lays her eyes on you," he continued.
"Don't forget, though: I have a job for you. And the Kasios, but we'll get to that later," he explained deceptively.
"Because first, I will answer three questions. About anything you'd like. And I will give three straight answers. For free," Slyre beamed, concluding his strange offer.
Crossing his arms, the reaper stood back, looking down at Solus over his nose. What could this strange Reaper be thinking?
"All I ask is that you convey them all in one go," he added cryptically, then pausing, "and do you want to ask them before or after you visit the girl?"
At that point, the pupils of Slyre's eyes aligned: white over black, tiny dot over the large saucers. He peered into Solus's soul with his Abstract Gaze. He wasn't attempting to reap him, but to shake his soul for good measure. After all, if something is too good to be true, is it true? Or is it false? What if it was true, but cast away, being deemed false?
Such trivialities would not be allowed to mess up his grand ascendancy. Not this time.
Solus felt a sudden, deep coldness within him as he stared into Slyre's eyes. Fear swelled within him. He hadn't felt fear in so long, it was like a new emotion that he discovered. It was invigorating, but also terrifying, in all kinds of ways. His mental defenses buckled under Slyre's gaze. His heart was in his throat, and his legs felt light. But Solus pushed on. Attempting to think clearly, and choosing his questions quickly.
"Before." Solus said quickly. Clearly he was struggling. "Who are you? What are you? And... What do you want with me...?"
Slyre loosed a throaty chuckle as Solus aired his last question, and then promptly stepped forward and seized the little god by the throat. The speed of his hand was so fast, it was almost as though it was already there, curling around Solus. Maintaining eye contact the whole time, the Reaper lifted the Necromaster a good 4-feet off the dirty floor. His feet dangling, it almost seemed like being choked to death was about to become a reality. However, his grip was strong, yet surprisingly comfortable; only a feeling of complete numbness beneath his neck seemed to be the most threatening aspect of this intimate contact.
Solus was literally in the palm of Slyre's hand, and the latter brought the former very close, nose to nose.
"To make you better in every way possible," Slyre stated deceptively, but truthfully. "I am the Avatar of the Abstract and current caretaker of the Void..."
Solus's past lives began flashing before his eyes--from every breath he took, every move he made, every word he uttered... all from the beginning, to the end, to now, in a single heart beat. But memories would be fleeting.
"I am Itzal Slyre... the Terminus," the Reaper continued, his voice shaking, "and your wish is granted."
At that moment, Solus's body would become completely numb as he became 1-dimensional in nature. His body and soul compressed into an infinitely small line and entered into Slyre's right eye. The Necromaster would still sense everything around him, but it all zipped by at an impossible speed. Images were blurred, but some were clearer than others as his "travel route" took minor turns into the two-dimensional plane.
He saw Szayeis in the Western Realm.
He glimpsed Lazarus and Mary on the floor.
Mairyell and Aeris during their fine dining.
A man with an orange mask blasting a strange creature in the head with a gun.
Zi in Emmet's apartment.
Hazumi and several blurred figures on a dance floor.
He saw Loom, crumbling, then whole. Then desecrated. In the middle were black figures chasing Lucien.
Then, nothingness came and blackness consumed Solus. Time seemed to have passed in a mere moment. His body uncompressed, his soul wriggled into it. The sound of water rushing, then retreating could be heard. Standing up, looking down, sand wrapped around his boots. A salty breeze tickled his sides, drawing his nose to bear the scent. A crab scurried past him, frightened by his sudden appearance on the beach. And then Slyre released his hold on Solus, letting him be in full control of his body. If he looked up, he would see a single, solitary building a few hundred yards before him.
A red-bricked lighthouse that seemed impossibly tall and pierced the sky.
Its brilliant light sliced through the darkness of the night with every rotation, and the stars above lit a well-trodden path up to the building. But even from this distance, one could hear a distinct but haunting voice, echoing down through the trees and grass. The natural sounds of the water and wind seemed quelled and hushed under the musical tones.
Rina's voice, steadfast and gentle, was singing in an unknown, yet beautiful language: with every lyrical syllable, Solus would feel his heartstrings tugged.
COLLAB POST: Synthorian, Mikael
