The Great Beyond- the Vile Fate

by K M McGuire

  “I…I am so sorry,” she croaked weakly, eyes still unwilling to look at him.

  “What do you mean?” Voden asked, kneeling next to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, offering her comfort. The world shook under their feet. Flashes lit her dark hair, like a specter’s glittering crown.

  “I see you,” she said, hand propping her heavy head with the struggle to hold up the world. “I know everything about you!” Her voice rang with a dripping conviction, and her head finally lifted. Her eyes met his.

  Moments crashed through moments, and he was unable to slow the speed at which they attacked him. All of them seemed to be trapped in her eyes. He felt them come like a tempest. Visions of fire, of blood, of stammering gloom tied the pictures together. He could see terrible throngs of beings, separating their organic bodies with brazen limbs. They had eyes that fiercely glowed, marching in persistent unison. Disks of the same brazen material drifted above the mass of sentients, with some that had spidery legs stretching well above the procession. Purple beams rippling along mesmerizing lines and projected out of a glass sphere mounted to the front.

  But the vision was gone too quickly to observe more. It was replaced by a cube, black as dreamless sleep rotated on its center axis. It spun around and around, revealing the diamond shape inside with edges centered to the middle of each face. It smoked in brilliant vermillion, filling the blackness with a vile, scorching snare. The diamond filled with the smoke and instantly burst white, flattening its perspective. There, in the middle of the diamond-shaped doorway, gazed a single eye.

  And in that moment that it opened, it knew him.

  It drove into Voden and sent him into a cringing state of mental agony. The mouth it should have had was sundered by the dimensional rhombus, yet Voden knew it smiled curtly. Voden now believed it had an esoteric understanding of his character.

  The fear grew forests of discomfort in him, becoming so unruly that he only felt reprisal when he no longer sensed the eye boring into him. He took comfort in the great depths of the sea. The shifting water suspended him again. He reveled in the peace his mind now possessed, hidden away from the gaze of the girl, allowing the current to carry him as mother would a child. He accepted its cradle and let the bubbles lull his emotions into calmness. The silence was a just king. He barely took notice when the white textures of air fluttered past him, and the red eye appeared again, cruelly rising beyond. The sable mountain drove next to him, rushing through the liquid, rising to the distant, shimmering light that rippled at the surface, leagues above him. The leviathan left Voden trapped at the bottom, abandoning its slumbering dust to settle on Voden’s cheek. If the red in its eye was any sign of an omen, the world above was in great danger.

  Voden awoke and stared at the canvas above him, more confused than he had felt in some time. Sleep had left with little comfort for him to return to it. So, he laid next to Yael, watching a delicate smile curl at her cheeks. She tucked her head underneath his chin, quietly drifting through the lands he wished he could fall back into. Yet the places his dreams had taken him had forced his eyes to stay wide. He continued to stare, trying to ignore the thoughts he seemed unable to wrestle with. But there was one that remained overly persistent, butting against his head over and over. He couldn’t help thinking of whether the Great Beyond had seen him trapped inside the dream, reminiscing over the blur he still remembered. He wasn’t even entirely sure if the Beyond cared enough to pay any attention to him.

  He pressed the thought into the sky, making it known he wanted What Lies Beyond to acknowledge him. He wanted for his thoughts to be heard by whatever omnipotent being sat just outside the sphere Voden knew as reality, his angst always buried by his dormant loneliness. He wanted to understand what was hidden from him, the reason for the strange visions. Perhaps the silence grew answers better than a sign. Voden couldn’t be sure, and really, he didn’t think he could handle the responsibility of what that proof would mean. Maybe it was just echoes crying back from a void that always hungered, one that was lost before answers had a chance to return.

  He stared into his honesty, wishing he would rid himself of that shrinking tomb, cold against his mind. The depression draped his thoughts like a hood placed over his head, sentenced to die. Though he lay silent next to whom he loved, the whispers spoke more fluently to him. Further it began to push, when he realized he was still alone, and all Yael would know would be the smile that created the mask. The smile slovenly painted on the hood. If prayers had solutions, he sought any for this feeling to pass.

  His nose breathed subtle aromas of kindled wood, slipping through the hair-thin slit of the tent. It seemed a perfect alibi to repress his descending thoughts. He had to justify pushing that pain away. Why should love hurt so profoundly? He pulled his body from under Yael, careful not to wake her. She mumbled incoherent garbles and rolled beneath the fur. Voden couldn’t help but watch her for a moment. Tragedy would be the future if he neglected to show her all of himself, to share the trenches he sealed off. Fear took honesty captive and hung it in the gallows where hesitation and consideration shared acknowledging glances. It was in this moment—small compared to many of the other events that had happened to him previously—he couldn’t help feeling unsettled by what it was meant to be, carved into the stone of the future, knowing its shape was based wholly on what was rejected from it now. He had been given choice and knew little of how to use such a gift.

  He sat unable to decide, begging for movement in the right direction. His thoughts became stifled by shifting sheets and messy hair. Yael turned to meet his distant gaze. Voden felt his heart pounding as her eyes sparked awake, the center of which lay the crux of his future. “Good morning,” Yael mumbled dispelling his inner debate as she smiled back at him. There would be time to discuss it in the future. “You look refreshed.”

  Yael propped herself up and placed a genial kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her and touched her satin hair. Her eyes filled with a wonder she seamlessly enveloped him in.

  “I did sleep well,” he responded. He felt himself fluttering inside and knew that this sensation was drawn out only by her. She could take away any sense of self-doubt he had for himself. “We need to get going,” he said, knowing he would rather stay snuggled in comfort with her, but he had destiny to contend with. It was hardly worth making that wait more than it was supposed to.

  She gave him a pouty look, trying to convince him to stay longer, but he kissed her forehead and began to dress. She soon followed his lead, not without a small display of dramatics, preparing for the chilly weather barricaded by the tent flaps. They finally exited their tent to see Andar and Vec around the fire, talking heatedly with one another, mouths stuffed with food.

  “I’m telling you, Andar, you missed a huge opportunity! The way it sounds, that woman wanted to crown you her trophy,” Vec said through a mouth of mush. “Women kill each other for a hint of something like that.” He paused and looked at Yael and Voden.

  Yael was already busy disenchanting the tent, the contents shrinking and drifting into a bag she had pulled out of her cloak. Vec stared at Voden, scanning his face as a curious expression lingered in his eyes. His lips broke into a smug smile.

  “How are you two?” he said rather loudly, obviously trying to catch Voden and Yael off guard.

  It worked, causing Yael to lose her concentration. Several articles missed her bag. They zipped past Voden and smacked Vec across the head, causing stifled snickers to bubble up from Voden, Yael, and Andar.

  Vec cast them all severe glares as he rubbed the red lump now present on his forehead. Yael walked over to the fallen items and placed her hand on Vec’s shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she laughed. She enchanted the remaining objects again which compressed and floated happily into her bag. “But don’t surprise someone who’s manipulating energy. Be glad that’s as bad as it gets for distracting me.”

  Vec mumbled under his breath. Yael shook her head and began the same process on the other te
nt. The snow melted in the clearing and turned much of the area brown. Several pine needles began to fall from the branches of nearby trees, decaying as they fell. Andar grimaced watching her but quickly turned away without saying a word. Voden sat next to Andar, who offered him some breakfast sausage.

  “Thanks,” Voden said and looked at his friend.

  Andar said nothing though he gave him a queer expression. His stomach lurched. He decided to ignore it and began eating his breakfast, munching diligently on the sustenance. Vec had pulled out another jug from somewhere behind him. He shot a quick glance at Andar, and he started to babble an excuse that it soothed his pain, though Voden thought the headache was more from the lack of alcohol rather than getting cracked on his forehead. Yael joined Voden, and Andar quietly handed her some breakfast as well. For a while all that was heard was the yawning of the surrounding woods and the sounds of winter beginning to collapse under the pressure of the rising sun. Dawn always seemed to herald the strange power of new beginnings.

  “It’s time,” Vec breathed, piling snow on the embers. It hissed like a pit of angered snakes, and they were soon mounting their horses.

  Vec and Andar must have gotten their horses earlier, which Voden was rather thankful for. Vec breathed, looking up at the ice-blue sky above them. He exhaled thoughtfully as condensation streamed out from his lungs. He spurred his horse, sending his steed south, with the rest following close behind.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  They had been travelling for some time now, heading as straight as they could south towards Adetia. Voden and Yael lingered a bit behind the other two. It seemed Andar and Vec were constantly at arms with each other.

  “You really think they like each other?” Yael asked Voden.

  “In their way,” he guessed, cantering close enough that Vec and Andar would not notice them lagging. But they had their own conversation, testing each other’s wit, drawing out quick quips at the other’s expense. It seemed, from the little they could hear, Vec was still berating Andar about Blossum’s affection for him. “Vec, he just can’t come to terms with his self-deprecation. I guess Andar’s strange.” He considered a minute, staring at the two through the dark silhouettes of barren trees. “They could never be more different, and I doubt they will ever be the same.”

  “It makes it better when we are not,” Yael said. She began to liven her pace to catch up, Voden keeping pace with her. “When things are different, beauty has a way to bridge irreconcilable gaps, showing how things really aren’t that black or white or even grey. They just wish to be whole.”

  Yael gave him a shrug and drove her horse ahead. Voden watched her catch up to the others, and she instantly engaged in their banter. He followed silently behind them, contemplation rendering him incapable of listening to what was being said.

  “Ow!” Andar slapped his hand against his arm.

  “You alright?” Yael asked from behind him.

  “Yeah,” he said dryly. He looked at the ground, face screwed up with confusion. “Felt like I got bit by a bug.”

  Vec rolled his eyes. “More like you were bit with imagination.”

  Andar sighed. “I don’t think so. I know what I felt.”

  Vec shook his head and continued along the trail. It had been over a month of venturing through the calm melting snows of winter. It had become warmer over the past few days, the weather caught between spring and winter, unable to decide what season it wanted to be. They had spent a lonely amount of time marching their mounts through the woods, encountering hardly anyone in that time. It wasn’t all that surprising, considering Vec had made painful efforts to travel under cover of the forest as much as they possibly could, only entering villages when the night was too unbearable to make camp. Fortunately, that was the worst of their problems. In fact, this was the first bit of drama they had encountered since being reunited.

  “Did you see it fly away?” Vec asked, scanning the landscape.

  “No,” Andar confessed, rubbing his arm where it had bit him.

  Voden glanced at his limb and saw a small, red area that had begun to swell.

  “I…” Andar paused and became quiet, still looking around as though evidence would soon emerge from the woods.

  “Forget it,” Vec said, still marching on. The sun floated above them, peaking the parabola between night and day. “We’re near where we need to be.”

  Voden looked at Yael, and she shrugged. Carry on, then. They walked through a thicker part of the woods, dismounting to help their horses over fallen trees and guiding them through the thickets. They made steady progress on foot, even with the occasional tangent taking them around stony mounds their horses couldn’t handle. Vec was strapped with determination today. His lips were pressed hard, concentrating on moving forward. This was a bit of a blessing. It meant the others could be free to chat and embrace the world, while he focused on leading them. Andar engaged in deep conversation with Yael, discussing the legends from Septium.

  “AD was what Pylea controlled when she and Zagala ruled together,” said Yael, answering Andar’s question about why Syphon was so important to Septium. Voden listened as well but held his thoughts to himself. “But when Pylea began to rebel against her sister, Zagala took her abilities and imprisoned her for her crimes. What Zagala didn’t realize was the powers needed to be used or they would slowly return to Pylea, and she would then be able to break from her prison. Zagala found if she could divide the power to the sentients and balance it with her laws, she could ensure Pylea’s powers would not return to her. The only other way Pylea can be freed is if the locks to her prison are broken. The Eternal Tree is the first. But the rest are just hearsay and murmurs of legends.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Andar said, nodding his head slowly with thought. Yael smiled, guiding her horse over a fallen tree. They continued to converse, but Voden tuned them out. He pet his mare’s snout, trying to relax the anxious beast.

  Voden became frustrated and started to think the horse did not want to cross over the mossy log. But there was something wild about the way it protested. Its eyes were wide and almost confused, as though it could see something that should not be there. Voden looked around, trying to identify what had spooked his horse. There were only pillars of bark and random patches of grass, the rest of which was covered by small mounds of vanishing winter. He rubbed the horse’s nose again.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, holding its head.

  And then, his heart skipped. He saw a tiny flicker through the woods, a sparkle flashing a bright gold. He blinked and looked back to where he thought he had seen the flash, but now there was nothing. He stared at the spot for a while, debating what his next move was to be.

  “Voden?” Yael called. He snapped his attention quickly towards her.

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking off the thoughts. His horse seemed fine now and finally stepped over the log. Imagination runs wild in the mundane. He looked back through the forest one last time, just to be sure he could rest his concerns. “I-I thought I saw something. There are more shadows in the woods during the day than at night.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Andar said, putting his arm around his friend. “After all we’ve been through, every shadow feels dangerous. But it’ll be fine. We can put all of this to rest soon.”

  Voden nodded and tried to smile at Yael. She turned her attention to a patch of ferns, pretending to be interested in them. He knew she was disheartened, though he wasn’t sure why. They walked a bit further in silence when finally, she spoke, “Voden, I need some kind of answer. You never really said what you plan to do. Are you going to stay in Adetia when this is over?”

  “Wha-what do you mean?” he asked, choking on his words. He could see everything rested on how he responded, noting the emotions held back behind her eyes. He had neglected the thought. “Are you not coming to Adetia with me?”

  She looked away, trying to disguise her melancholy. “Adetia is not my home,” she whispered. “I wanted to help it, b
ut I cannot live there, Voden. You must have known that.”

  “Why?” Voden asked, rather hurt by her response. He was half expecting that she would come with him. It was all he had wanted. But he knew deep down how much he would be asking her. It was his selfishness that had convinced him she would come. His appetite for glory had blinded him to what his friends wanted. No, they were more than just friends. They had become his family.

  “I love being out here,” she cried, close to tears. Her arms flung open to show the expanse of the world. “I love this big place I’m in, the people. Sometimes even the struggle is worth it to me. I know it’s not a utopia like Adetia, but there is something out here that seems real to me! I don’t know how to live in dreams! You can’t change the world from inside a glass dome! Wake up, Voden! I’m better out here!”

  Voden felt every word. She was right. Andar turned his head somberly. “I had no plan to stay,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “No,” Andar confirmed. “I want to return to Blossum. I want to get this done. Not that I don’t care for those in Adetia, but there is much to learn in the real world. Blossum was a miracle to me! I would have stayed with her if it hadn’t been for our obligation to the people who raised us. We can be okay, Voden, once they are protected, we can protect those who lack what people have in Adetia.”

  It was then that Vec came up to them. “We’re here,” he said, putting a finger to his mouth. He beckoned them forward.

  They entered a clearing, where the ground had been matted down with crumbled masses of charcoal, breaking under their boots. They walked across a rectangular section that was blackened with powdered soot, sending soft, quiet plumes of dust shifting through the air with each step. It was familiar. Voden noticed a thin, crisped spindle from a rocking chair. A thick support from a dingy shack, and the air blew as if the spirit of the old cannibal woman brushed his shoulders to confirm his suspicions.