The Forgotten X

I’m dying.

Part of me welcomes it. The freedom of my last breath, my escape from this Realm … robbing Oscurita of more chances to torture me … it would be enough.

But.

Part of me wants to fight. The part that rebelled against Father still burns inside me, and I want my chance to stand and raise my sword one more time –

Sword?

I don’t remember ever having a sword. Not like Michael or even Ariel. I stop, wondering where that thought came from. These names mean nothing to me … at least, I don’t think they do.

I’m cold. I can feel the ground beneath me. It’s wet and soft – did it rain? Would Oscurita allow it to rain here? I stop, think, and wish I had the strength to laugh at my own foolishness. This tree, it’s important enough to him to keep alive. Of course he’d allow it to rain.

<Zacky boy…>

Tharon. I cringe at the familiar hiss in my mind. I knew he could reach my thoughts, but for some reason, he never resorted to tormenting me that way. He sounded different now, distant, almost in pain.

<Miss me yet?>

I feel my lips twitch in an almost-smile. Pained, distant, but still a bastard.

(Would you die already, idiota?)

<You first…>

I think I groan, but I still can’t hear anything. In my head, it almost sounds like Tharon is coughing. I remember the night I was brought to the Darkness, the night he bound me to Tharon for eternity. “All that you feel, he will feel.” Oscurita told me. “All he feels, you will feel.” I could not be separated from him or it would … kill us both.

By banishing me here, deep in the Realm, the Darkness was killing its most loyal slave.

(He’s abandoned you, Tharon … he’s going to let you die because of me.) And then I thought the words I never dreamed I’d say to him. (Mi dispiace, demone.)

<You think you’re sorry? I’ll find you in our next lives, Zacky boy. Maybe this time I’ll be the pretty one and you’ll be … like me.>

(Non contare su di esso. I’m not done fighting … not yet…)

His presence fades, and I feel weaker for our brief conversation. He would have denied it had I said anything, but what I felt from Tharon in those last seconds is something I’ve never felt from him before.

Regret.

I have to get up. I can’t let it end like this. All the souls trapped here … if I die, there will be no one left who can reach the outside, who can tell someone, anyone that we need help. I have to get up and find that miserable demon because for the first time in thousands of years, I don’t want that horned bastard to die.

Apri gli occhi, maledizione! think in sheer frustration. I edge one eye open, force myself to take a deep breath even though the mist is choking me, and struggle to push myself up on one elbow. I will not die here!

I look up at the tree, squinting against the light from the fire. It’s brighter than I remembered. And…

A woman?

She’s there, sitting close to the tree. Her head is down, and I wonder if she’s sleeping. As close as I am to final death, I wonder if this is the dark angel come to take me from here once and for all. Then I see her shoulders are shaking.

Tears? Why would an angel of death cry?

She looks up to find me watching her. The anguish in her eyes diminishes, and she slowly gets to her feet and walks toward me. Even if I had the strength to run, I wouldn’t. She means me no harm. There’s … something about her…

Please, let her hear me. I swallow hard, hoping my silence has ended. When she kneels next to me and takes my hand, I summon what courage I have left, and speak.

“Who … are you?”