Demon Seer 2

by Kurtis Eckstein

  We were both silent for a few minutes before she openly sobbed.

  “But is this situation really so bad?” she asked seriously. Desperately. “Can’t we just keep doing this forever?”

  “It would only be forever for me,” I replied gently. “Every time, it’s a brand-new you.” I grimaced at my own words, trying to push aside the gravity of the situation. “No matter what, you still only get these last few hours with me. Maybe an extra day, but that’s it.”

  “But at least it’s forever for you,” she pressed. “Even if it’s a new me every time, at least you get to live. Even if this is the last time I’ll ever see you – even if the next time you meet me, it’s not the same me – I can live with that, so long as you’re getting to live.”

  I sighed, gently kissing her on the neck again, before pulling away to meet her somber crimson gaze. “But that’s the same as you being dead in my perspective. Except that I have to watch you die over and over again. Sounds more like a living hell to me. And now that I know – now that I’ll probably remember the next time too – I’m not sure I can handle knowing that the next you won’t be the same you. It’s already horrible to think that all the past versions of you, that I recall, aren’t the same person I’m holding now.”

  She mimicked my grimace. “I’m sorry, love. But at least this is certain. You know what to expect now. But if you choose to die, then there’s no guarantee anything else will get fixed. For all we know, this might be the only possible reality left. You dying might just make everything end.”

  I considered that, as well as what the Dragon had told me about the primary timeline. Between that knowledge, and the fact that the alternative was essentially watching Miriam die over and over again, I knew I couldn’t handle going through that forever.

  And a part of me wanted to try a few more times – a few more cycles – but what honestly would that change? I didn’t have the power to alter time. All I could do was warp away, and whenever I did – whenever I went far enough – I uncontrollably returned to my sister. And I already knew she was at a loss too.

  So, in the end, there was really only the one option. Only one hope to fix this for everyone else.

  I was the anomaly. I was the mistake.

  I was the person who needed to stop existing.

  As I returned my face to Miriam’s neck, we were both silent while we held each other tightly, both of us continuing to process the situation in hopes that some third option would present itself.

  But it didn’t.

  There was no third option.

  And that truth felt like the crushing weight of the entire world resting on our shoulders.

  After another long few hours, Miriam finally spoke up again. “I can’t accept this. I just can’t.” She paused. “But if you really don’t have much longer, then you should just do whatever you want. Say goodbye to your friends, say goodbye to your parents, say goodbye to your sister. Damn the rules.” She stopped as another wave of agony crossed her expression, her voice coming out more strained. “It won’t matter anyways if…” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, forcing more tears out.

  We were both quiet for a long few moments, before I responded.

  “As much as I’d love to say goodbye to them, I had already made peace with the fact that I might not see any of them again.” I paused when she opened her eyes. “So, no. If I only have less than a day left, then there’s only one person I want to spend it with.”

  Her eyes instantly shut again while she nodded, attempting to hide her grief as more tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Me too, love,” she whispered almost inaudibly, resting her lips against my forehead. “Me too.”

  Chapter 22: Last Wish

  The scariest thing about the void of nothingness was that it defied all logic. Because, if it were instead a black hole, then I’d still see the sun even after it had been swallowed up.

  It took approximately eight minutes for sunlight to reach the Earth, which meant if the sun disappeared unexpectedly, then no one on the planet would know it was gone for a solid eight minutes.

  But that wasn’t the case with this horrifying cataclysm.

  The stars vanished in the blink of an eye, only for the sun to disappear mere seconds later, an invisible wall rapidly approaching life, ready to swallow it up.

  Which meant, it was truly erasing things from reality, because the moment the sun was gone, the light it had originally produced was vanishing as well, as if it never existed in the first place. So this wasn’t some gravitational pull that was destroying matter, but rather more like an onslaught of antimatter destroying everything in its path.

  The fact that it even existed made me wonder where it came from, or if it was less ‘something’ and more the ‘absence of something,’ like how darkness was really just the absence of light, or how cold was really just the absence of heat.

  Or really, it could just be this unstable dimension collapsing on itself, ceasing to exist at a certain point in time. If it truly was a finite dimension, unlike the infinite universe, then that might also explain why I returned to my sister whenever I warped far enough – because the edge of this dimension led to hers.

  Not that knowing what the void was, or wasn’t, would make any difference.

  All that mattered at this point was that it meant my death, and that my death would hopefully result in the primary dimension continuing on finally. Although, as more and more confusing memories filled my thoughts, I began wondering if there was any hope even for the main timeline.

  Because I vaguely recalled seeing a bleak future, almost like a dream I could barely remember, one in which there were only two living creatures on the entire planet Earth – a guy and a girl, like Adam and Eve.

  Noah…

  That had been his name.

  And hers was Madison. She especially had looked familiar, although I couldn’t figure out why.

  I had no idea what could have possibly resulted in such a horrible future – such an absolute destruction of all life on Earth, but even those two individuals wouldn’t have a future if I remained alive, nor would any of the demons on Venus. But at least now I could understand why my sister had risked it. If there was nothing left in her version of reality, then why not screw up the whole universe? Why not screw up time itself? It’s not like she could make it much worse.

  Except, of course, she had by preventing anyone from having a future.

  The humans and demons alike didn’t have a future. They existed for a couple of days, and then ceased to exist, over and over again, with me being the only person who had any sort of perception that life was moving forward.

  But it wasn’t.

  Not for anyone, except myself, and even then it wasn’t really moving for me either.

  It was all just an illusion. One in which I was leaving behind my love, only to reunite with a new version of her – one who didn’t know or recall anything, other than the fact that I’d just recently disappeared in a blinding light.

  And there was no way to save her. No way to save the previous version of her either, who I most recently left. Or the previous one before that.

  Or the original Miriam.

  She might as well already be dead, and those depressing thoughts were all I had left to occupy my mind the last few hours of my existence.

  I would have liked to think that Miriam and I were wrapped around each other just as intimately in our heads as we were with our bodies. But, as the end neared, we both became more and more absorbed with our own agonizing thoughts – or at least, I was, lingering on my slowly solidifying memories.

  Unexpectedly, Miriam gasped, pulling away to meet my gaze.

  “The girl,” she whispered. “I know where you recognize her from. The plane. She was the girl on the plane – the one whose phone you broke. The one who was practically sitting over the nuclear bomb.”

  My brow furrowed as I considered that, only to realize the girl even had a nametag I previousl
y assumed was from a youth event. Sure enough, her name had been Madison too.

  It really was the same person.

  My eyes widened in shock, only for my expression to instantly transition to horror, when I considered that stopping the terrorist attack might have actually set the world on its apocalyptic course.

  Had that been a mistake? Had I altered the entire future by saving that one person?

  Surely not!

  Though, as I focused on the memory of the girl hanging on the makeshift cross, I couldn’t deny that it was the same person. But then, the Dragon believed that the future couldn’t be changed – that what I’d done was what I would have done either way. Instead, the vision I saw was more like the kinetic energy of life itself, and similar to how someone could predict the future location of an object in motion, likewise I was seeing the future course of events, based on the current momentum of life itself.

  Which meant I hadn’t actually changed the future, but instead only saw the potential course it might take, and intercepted it before that course occurred. Overall, that certainly made sense from the perspective of the future being now – or rather, from the viewpoint that the future hadn’t happened yet.

  But the problem was that the future had happened already, with my sister being evidence of that. So then, were the consequences of my decisions set in stone or not?

  I mean, I supposed they were, since I certainly couldn’t change what I’d done. I couldn’t go back and let the bomb explode. And if I tried warping, the only place I’d end up was with the future version of my sister.

  That at least appeared to be a guarantee, although I was reluctant to try warping since I’d probably forget again as well. Not to mention, my sister had seemed exceptionally stressed when trying to put me back in the timeline, due to me being ‘too early,’ and I wasn’t confident she could do it again.

  But the biggest issue was the amnesia, causing me to get thrown into this loop all over again, with no end in sight.

  So I couldn’t visit her, even to say goodbye. Not the future version, or the present.

  I couldn’t risk forgetting for what felt like the thousandth time.

  Miriam was still focused on my memories of the future, since she hadn’t seen them until now, but she finally pushed it aside when I began wondering how long we had left, and how I should face it. Would it be better to just stay here and close my eyes? I’d still know it was coming though, because the sun was up right now, after having set and risen once already. And, when it vanished, we would instantly be plunged into darkness.

  I could also just travel to the other side of the planet and hope that I didn’t notice the light from the moon disappearing.

  I knew I probably wouldn’t do that though. Because, from what I recalled of all the other time loops, I would feel right before it was going to happen and I always looked.

  Granted, in the other loops, I hadn’t known exactly what I was feeling, but even now that I did know, I still would rather see it coming, as opposed to not knowing the exact point when I was going to stop existing.

  Unexpectedly, Miriam sobbed again, prompting me to focus on her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered sincerely, reaching up to rest my hand on her cheek.

  She leaned into my hand and covered it with hers. “I feel selfish for even asking this,” she finally admitted after a moment. “But if it’s really almost the end, then can I request a favor?”

  “Yes,” I said simply, wondering why I couldn’t see where her mind was going…only to realize the reason why.

  The knowledge that she might not be the original Miriam, or the Miriam who I just recently left, had caused me to keep her at a distance. A gesture that she’d been aware of…and one that had only worsened her torment, which she suffered with silently, both because I was keeping her pushed away, but also because she didn’t want to make me more distressed when I was facing my own death.

  And so she asked for a favor, even though I was ignoring her. Tormenting her. Rejecting her.

  Instantly apologetic, I opened my mind and let us fully merge, wrapping my thoughts around hers as she did mine. “I’m so sorry, my love,” I whispered with tears springing to my eyes. “Please forgive me. I’ll never reject you. I’m yours forever, even if forever doesn’t exist anymore.”

  In response to my words, agony leaked into her expression as she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as she curled into me. I hadn’t realized just how much I was hurting her, but she finally snapped when I fully opened my mind back up.

  “I’m so sorry,” I repeated quietly, holding her even more tightly with my thoughts than with my arms and wings.

  She collected herself faster than I anticipated though, knowing our time was limited. “I wanted…I wanted to show you the home I built for us,” she admitted in a strained voice.

  “Oh,” I said in surprise, seeing glimpses of it in her mind, knowing she’d occupied much of her time for the last eighteen years building it, fantasizing that she could have me even though she believed she couldn’t at the time. Still, it gave her something to do – something to help her stay away, to keep me safe, even as my presence continued to shine in her thoughts brighter than the unseen sun.

  Even though my existence pulled on her a thousand times stronger than gravity.

  Selfish.

  She wasn’t being selfish – I was.

  It was her death too, and losing me was definitely more difficult for her than it was for me. I’d only been obsessed with her for a week – a year at most, if I included all the time loops – whereas she’d been fixated on me for almost two decades.

  Two decades, where her primary activity had been building us a home, all of her efforts focused on me.

  I gently kissed her on the temple. “Of course, love. Whatever you want.”

  She gave me a weak smile in response, prompting me to readjust her in my lap and stand with her in my arms. As we rose above the canopy of trees and continued on past the clouds, I allowed her thoughts to lead the way, the world around me bending to my will, aiming for our home.

  We arrived not even a full second later, exploding through the glowing canopy of crimson clouds, lowering towards a massive midnight castle, south of us, that was almost on the opposite side of the planet from the Ryujin city, Uruk-Verum. It was situated on raised ground to the west of a massive lake of lava in the middle of an open plain, with a makeshift cliff separating the fiery sea from the building. The lake of fire itself was supplied with fresh molten rock by a gurgling orange fountain in the center, with mountains in the distance on all sides.

  It looked like a scene from a fantasy world, the lake slowly flowing on one end to form a river that pooled off in the distance around a black hill – unlike much of the terrain I’d seen elsewhere, almost all of it was pitch-black in this plain.

  The behemoth castle itself was impressive, having several towers and courtyards filled with intricate designs carved into everything, as if it was sculpted from the lava itself, rather than being made from massive pre-sculpted bricks. And with a sea of fire so close, I wasn’t surprised when Miriam confirmed that my assumption was the case.

  But that wasn’t the most beautiful sight.

  On the end facing the lake of fire, coming from the eastern side of the primary building making up the castle, was a waterfall of lava slowly pouring into the massive pool below, the sound like someone smashing a thousand glass vases on a floor, though the shattering was actually somehow delicate instead of abrasive, giving it a peaceful chime.

  Confused by the sight, Miriam gave me a somber smile, directing me with her thoughts to one of the northern entrances to the main building. I landed on a balcony on the opposite side of the lavafall and set her down so we could walk hand-in-hand as she led me within.

  The immediate antechamber was empty, with there being something beautiful about the bareness, but just through the next open doorway was a massive room that was illuminated with a stream of orange lava gurgling ou
t of an opening on one side, and slowly undulating through the middle towards another small exit.

  She wrapped both of her arms around mine as I examined it, seeming apprehensive.

  Were it not for the coarsely shaped structure on the other side, massive and overly elaborate…and possibly unnecessary…then I wouldn’t have realized the purpose of the room.

  “Our bedroom?” I said in surprise, wondering why she even bothered making a bed when we didn’t sleep. I then paused when I realized I was focusing on the wrong thing. “There’s a stream of lava in our bedroom,” I restated, the uniqueness of what she’d accomplished finally hitting me.

  As far as I knew, there was nothing else like this in all the universe, not even in the castles created by Gilgamesh and the others.

  She gave me another somber smile, not motioning to go further into the room. “Yes,” she admitted quietly. “Two decades ago, this lake was supplied by two fountains of lava, the ground slowly rising as the molten rock cooled and was overrun with more. I built this castle around one of those fountains, and dug a trench to drain the previous lake, so that I could create this room for you.” She half laughed, half scoffed, then – a sad and uneasy sound. “I have to scrape out the cooled lava left behind about twice a Cycle, but it’s hot enough in here that most of it exits the building, through a couple of rooms, and returns to the lake before it has a chance to harden. But this room – our bedroom – has been waiting for you to see it for over a decade.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I replied sincerely, mesmerized by the sight, with the tink-tink-tink sound created by the stream echoing off the walls like a chime.

  However, when she didn’t respond and made no motion to move further into the room, holding onto my arm tightly, I realized there was more.

  I focused on her again, urging her to continue.

  “Right now,” she whispered, tears reappearing in the corners of her crimson eyes. “We’re standing on almost the exact spot where I first sensed you. I built our room on top of that location.” Her expression pained, her voice becoming more strained. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever, so I found a way to keep it. Pointless now, I know, but…” Her voice trailed off as she choked up more from the emotions plaguing her heart.