Novel Zeroth Knight

Hello, I'm writing a story called "Zeroth Knight", you can also read this story at:

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Synopsis:
Just when she was about to confess to the man of her dreams, Eve is taken by a light to another world. Swallowing her up, against her will, eroding her, it demands a life so contrary to her previous one. In a new world with the title of “Zeroth” forced upon her, she must rely on her newfound “friends” to stay sane and navigate her responsibilities.

But bit by bit, the world loses sight of the girl inside; seeing only “Zero,” the person she did not desire to be, but the hero that the world needed.

Will Eve let the title she bears consume her, or will she become the hero in both body and mind? This is the tale of her struggles, and a star-crossed love destined by Fate to never converge. This is the tale of Zero.


Genre: Girl's love, Female Lead, Isekai, Action, Fantasy, Adventure, Harem, Psychological, Mystery, Romance

Table of Contents (required)

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Prologue

Forgotten Knight

Ninth day of the month of Octus, in the year of Tree-Six:

It was a lie. This whole time the promises of power, and peace, and fame were lies. There is no honor in this gift. The history of the title is forgotten, but I can hear it. I can see it. Deep within my mind it's knocking. Bang, bang, bang- it makes itself known in my mind. It wants out, you see, but I resist. I resist with all that I am, but it becomes harder with time.


Thirtieth day of the month Decus, in the year of Tree-Seven:

I can feel myself slipping with each day. The way they look at me is changing. My name drips from their lips in twisted words. Little by little, they lose sight of who I am. I am me gods dammit, not another. Yet they have trouble seeing that; ever since I took up the mantle of Zeroth I have been lost. Ever since I became lost, I have sought a light in the darkness, nay a beacon- any beacon that will keep me here, to keep me grounded. But even they are losing sight of me within this storm. The pounding continues, and now there are whispers.


Fifth day, Maris, year Tree-Eight:

The whispering is gone now; and without it, I am lost. It was my constant companion for nearly a cycle. But it seems to have given up on me. It no longer pounds, no longer wishes for release. I would try to remain myself, were it not already far too late. They don’t see me now, ever. “Zero" is who they see. “Castus” is no more, ‘tis just “Zero” now. But without the whispers, and the pounding, I’m able to think clearly enough. My wives, my loves, they no longer know me. Yet I love them, and so I continue my journey. Perhaps I’ll understand what this has all been about, one day.


Fourth day, Austis. Year Tree-Nine:

I understand it now. I do. They define us, ’tis known- these titles. Our growths are dependant upon them. They make us adhere to what they are. We are them, and they are us. I have been defined as by the Zeroth, to uphold the entity known as Zero. I do not know who this was, but ‘tis now who I am.


Twenty-Third day of Octus. Year Tree-Nine:

The whispering of malice returns. It speaks, but not to me. It calls for another. It twists him, from me. It unmakes who he is, and he gives in. I have accepted the curse of who I am became, but to see a friend become unmade is heart-rending. It is time for tradition to be placed wayward, and to stand up for the life of one who is important to me. I shall do what I can to remedy the situation.


Jansus. Twelfth. Tree-Ten:

I feel it within. The pull. It’s coming. I must fight it.


Maris. Thirteenth. Tree-Ten:

Reality is not as it seems. I’ve come to understand yet again. Warped perceptions are commonplace. Those of higher places- they wage a war no mortal may help to understand; and the darkness looms in our souls. The Zeroth… what be it? Savior, or Saint? There is no fighting its spread of warped reality, yet it seems to go no further; yet again something still remains, deep within it, banging, ringing, slamming.


Junus Twenty-Second. Tree-Ten:

He is ghastly, and malformed, and so very, very powerful. I cannot beat him alone. His wife has betrayed him, and offered unto me, the power to rival a god. I wish for no more power, for that is what the whispers want. But to protect my people, I will break all taboos and fight for them. I will give into power, beget more power, to lay low a power greater still.


Austis... I do not know. I can’t make out the world as well as before. The power beholden to me has come with a terrible price. Yet they chose to join in me, to make it so. I am going to win this; but I feel in my bones that it will not be without significant loss. I can only hope the Valkyries do not join me in Hades.


Know ye who comes after, the price that is paid by the title you bear. It is living, and ephemeral, yet corporeal. You are to become it, lest you become nothing. There are secrets within, as of yet undiscovered in this game of life, and dice as played by the Gods. I only hope, from one mortal to another, that you find a way.

 

Zeroth Knight

“I’m going to tell him! I’m going to do it! Today is the day!” I keep repeating to myself as I zip through the backstreets in an effort to make it to class on time. The day is young, the sunshine warm, and the wind carries my body just right. “Today is the day,” I reassure myself once again, for good measure.

It’s been my mantra since I woke up this morning. I tell myself over and over that this is the day I tell him that I love him. Is he popular? Yes! Is he drop-dead gorgeous, top of his class, and ripped like a Greek statue? All signs point to “yes.” And you would think that there was no chance someone as ordinary as I could get his attention, yet I can. I did.

My reverie is cut short as the chime of the school bell alerts the remaining students that there are five minutes left before classes begin. I cut loose all superfluous thoughts from my mind and run and run and run as fast as my legs will carry me. This stamina is one of the perks of the constant exercise my grandfather pushes on me. He never was one to take it lightly just because I happen to be female, oh no. If anything, that made him push me harder. My parents passing before they could take over our dojo has really pushed back my grandpa’s life plan.

He should be retired now, on some beach sipping on spirits. Instead, he’s spent the past thirteen years raising me to be strong enough, dedicated enough, to take over the dojo. Perhaps he'll still have some youth left for some kind of retirement. Yet for all his trying, I’ve never gotten anywhere. My skills- mediocre. My dedication- I’d rather go to the mall with friends. My strength- all right, I’m a bit more in shape than most typical girls my age sure, but I fill out just fine, thank you very much.

I shake continually encroaching thoughts from my head as I turn the corner of the hallway. It’s eerily silent, in part because there's only just under a minute left now before the late bell. I shove the door open, that function not intended to be used outside of emergencies, and rush in. I plant my butt in my seat as “safe” is shouted in my direction.

As I struggle to get my breathing under control, I look over at my would-be umpire. Jamie is staring at me, barely containing her laughter. The door slides open as the bell chimes commencement of our day.

In walks Mr. Gordon, a man in his healthy fifties. He’s donned in his usual brown suit with that garish, blinding white tie. His hair is cropped, peppered with gray. His face is frozen in a chilly, yet somehow monotonous, expression. He glances around the class as he takes to the podium. Leave it to Mr. Gordon to literally always play by the book. Making it to class as the bell goes off is a given. You could set a clock to his studious attitude and never be a second off.

As I start to glance out the window, prepared to waste more of the world's taxes on our “wonderful” education, I feel a sensation unlike any I’ve ever experienced before.

If I had to describe it, I’d say the hair on my body was standing on end; with my blood rushing, pumping hard and fast. I may have been a little winded from such a run to make it to class on time, but this was highly unusual. It feels like my veins are flowing with fire while the rest of me is caught in a chilling wind. I look around the room, only to notice Mr. Gordon staring at me.

“Dare I say, Miss Evangeline that you are growing into a fine imitation of myself. Always making it just on time, ne?”

“Ne” is such a casual comment that I find myself paralyzed for a moment. How strange for a teacher to say such a thing.

Before long I’m able to shake myself out of this odd feeling and realize that this teacher, Mr. Gordon, is actually insulting me. As if there is anyone in this world who’d want a stick to be stuck so far up their ass. But what can I say? He’s in charge here. Being a smart ass here does nothing but delay myself from my ultimate goal today- to finally get my happy beginning with Him of all people.

So I swallow my pride, let a smile dance across my lips and say, “Were we all so fortunate Mr. Gordon.”

I can see a vein slither across his forehead in his barely-concealed anger. I hear a small amount of giggling from the class but I keep a cool face - or I try to. I hope I do. God do I hope I do. The last thing I need here is for it to be so obvious that I was being a smart ass. I must have been as good as I was hoping when he clears his throat and an “Indeed” passes his lips as he begins to address the class.

The class is dull and uneventful. History. Such a waste of a class. People say those who do not know history are destined to repeat it. But seriously, that’s so stupid. We’re smarter than we were then. We have nothing to learn from people from forever ago; and so my day unassumingly passes by just like that. Classes come and go. Lunch is spent idly with Jamie.

We talk about nothing of consequence. We sit with our lunches on the roof. While listening to her go on and on about whatever flavor of the month boyfriend she has this time, I feel a shock run across my skin. The clouds pass lazily overhead while the wind barely makes itself known. “Eve?” I move my head sluggishly in her direction, “Hm?” is all I'm able to manage.

That sensation has been attacking me on and off today. It keeps distracting me from- “Bitch were you paying attention?” Jamie’s brow is furrowed in low-key anger as she glares at me.

“Of course I was Babe. So he was acting like a dick. What're you going to do? Kick his ass to the curb?”

Her face relaxed into a smile, “Chyea, duh. Screw him. He's only the captain of the team. I can do so much better than that,” she adds snidely before stuffing her sandwich into her mouth. She's such a cute thing until she opens her mouth; long blonde hair that ends in curls with eyes blue enough to make the sky jealous.

My eyes dart down and up her resting form as the strange feeling of disconnect hits me. She's barely five two, yet has the attitude of a princess mixed with the vocabulary of a sailor. But it's a deserved attitude; nothing like myself, whose only defining quality is the red blaze of my hair.

“Yeah you can. You know you're the best,” I say around my noodles. This is how my school day goes by. Such a waste of time and life, both so limited in quantity. But this is a good life for me. This is what I deserve.

School's over before I notice it. I’m at a jog, when the feeling of hot blood, yet cold muscles hits me again. The pounding inside me intensifies unlike anything I've ever felt, and believe me I'm no stranger to headaches. I feel like I'm coming undone and have to pause for a moment to collect myself. I almost want to turn around and go home- maybe sleep for the next month and shake off this feeling. But seeing Him is all that matters to me. This pain is terrifying if I'm being honest, but none of that matters right now. I'm on my way to meet Him, to let him know just how much brighter my world is with him. Just how much better I feel just being around him. He's everything I've ever wanted. And today is the day it all begins. The beginning of the rest of my life!

 

New Beginnings

I jog around the next corner. The wind blows through my hair as I navigate the twist and turns of the back alley shortcuts. Sure, maybe normal people would avoid these areas but please - bad stuff like what most people think basically only happens on T.V. Real life simply doesn't have time to be fantastical. It just keeps moving on and on without a care for anyone or their life. That's why humans are the way we are. We find solace in what small virtues and happiness we find. That's why we greedily eat up everything in excess. Because life- life doesn't care about you or me.

With those kinds of thoughts weighing heavily on my mind I see the clearing in front of me. The light is bright as I come out of the alley. It's so bright as to be blinding. “Eve! You made it!” I hear his dreamy voice call me as I try and slide to a halt, part in the excitement of his presence, and in part because of how bright the light is. As I approach a stop I realize that the ground is no longer below my feet- I'm falling.

My world twists and turns and is contorted. My blood runs cold and like a wildfire, it bursts through me, out of control and ever consuming. Yet my body, forgotten by its life-sustaining blood, turns chill and freezes over. I observe my existence as it unravels into its rudimentary particles; with a detached mind, I'm able to see how the fire of my blood spreads into the surrounding darkness and forms the bases of stars.

Portions of my body chip off and float freely through the void; as they reach the new stars I watch on as they take shape into worlds. Before my very eyes, I witness the birth of the cosmos and I scream. I scream as I watch life eternal bleed into existence. And so I did the only thing one can do in such a position. I looked upon my creations and dismayed. So I screamed- It echoes in the darkness; and I am reborn as if never apart, I am become whole.

The first thing I notice is the way the world smells. It's a subtle thing to notice. Generally, you get used to smells and only notice differences when they’ve fallen under the “good” or “bad” spectrum. But this is neither. This smell simply is. The smell of the earth, of the wind, the smell of the sunshine. That’s what hits me- how much I can smell the rays of light as they beat down on me from above. Then what I notice second, perhaps should have listed higher on the scale of importance.

What I notice, as I lift my head, are people. People everywhere. I scan the sea of people and notice among the crowd the young, the old, girls and boys. All of them are wearing clothing that would fit right in with what you’d imagine from the olden days. Like, old, old days.

Like - nevermind, this train of thought is hardly important. I scan from the faces to the scenery- scenery that simply shouldn’t be.

Instead of a concrete jungle, I see a field of lush, blue grass and trees both small and tall. Both big and short. Some are donned with red leaves, others green, some blue. I continue my gaze to the side and notice the buildings. The architecture is beyond what you’d see in the cities. Instead of sharp, hard curves and shapes that are more for efficiency than aesthetics, these buildings in the distance seem almost castle-like. If I weren’t sane, I’d say some of them almost look like actual castles.

I notice a man with blue hair down to his shoulders just behind me. He’s got a glare that could kill seemingly levied against me. I can’t imagine why, and in my current state, I wouldn’t even attempt to guess. My gaze lands on an old man. His clothes are more robes than anything else. They’re a mix of colors, primarily purple and red. There’s a symbol of a tree on his chest. Falling from that tree seems to be some kind of fruit, apples?

His face was craggy, with known years. His beard is long and gray, nearly down to his waist. I half expect to see a pointy hat on his head, but alas, no. He wears some kind of cap on his head, yes, but not a pointy kind. Some kind of flat cap, the kind you’d imagine yourself wearing on graduation day.

“You. Are. The Zeroth!” Bellows from the man’s throat. It was then, moments before the pain, that I realized his arm was extended with his hand in a familiar gesture- he was pointing. He was pointing at none other than yours truly. Why? I couldn’t tell you. In fact, I’d rather not try to tell you. I would never again want to relive that experience. A single thought crosses my mind, maybe it wasn’t me he was pointing at.

Mere seconds after those words I felt the world alight in fire. My blood boiled; and unlike so many times before, my body did not run cold. Oh no, my body joined my blood and together they seemed to work in unison to cook me alive. The heat was horrible, the smell of burning flesh was one that would never leave my psyche. In this moment I realized I was dead. This pain would end me even if the wounds did not. I shook and convulsed as a soundless scream escaped my lungs. It lasted a lifetime, and yet after a moment, it was done.

I crumpled over with unsteady breathing as I gasped in attempt to fill my lungs. My nerves were on fire, yet no pain was present. Instead, it hurt- it hurt so bad, not from the pain, but from the memory of the pain. How my mind did not break I’ll never know. Slowly the murmurs around me became sharper and more in focus. I listlessly raised my head, and what I saw around me, surprised even me.

In a radius of at least three feet around me, was scorched earth. What was once vibrant, blue grass was now a smoking crater. I lift my head further to see a dozen or two people, jaws nearly on the floor. Looking at them you wouldn’t think I was the one who just went through an almost literal Hell. The murmurs turn louder as I begin to make out words. Chief among them, reflections of what the old man said before the pain. “Zeroth” I hear. I hear from all around me- each one of them uttering in some fashion, that word.

I cautiously shake my head and set up straight. My body felt… good? Great even. Yet the residual memory of the pain makes me act with fear. I tentatively look toward what I can only assume to be the source of my woes; I stare daggers at the old man. His hand drops to his side upon meeting my gaze. His aged brow furrows deeply as he rubs his beard in apparent contemplation. He takes note of me if only briefly, before turning to the crowd. “The crowning of the Zeroth Knight has-” I don't get to make out the last of what he says as my world falls to darkness.

I open my eyes to the feeling of someone stroking my cheek. “Mmm, Rachel stop.” Not even a moment passes before what I said registers with me and in a panic, I shoot straight up. The dizziness hits me hard and I'm forced back from nausea. I take note of the girl sitting at my bedside as my head meets pillow. Scouting the room with just a quick glance tells me I'm in a house, top floor judging by the view from the window just three feet to my right. The interior is mostly bare and wooden. The unmistakable scent of antiseptic hits me. Judging from what I saw before, this appears to be some kind of old-timey hospital.

My eyes flicker in an erratic fashion, trying to take in everything possible. Before long, I take note of the woman there. “Good, you're awake. Three weeks would have been impossible for a normal person. But I suppose our Lord Knight is hardly normal, ne?” She says as she pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

I'm mesmerized by her touch- so gentle. In my world, even the thought of touching another without explicit invitation would be unthinkable. Funny how impossible this situation is and yet I am fully able to process what I know the be the truth. This is not my city, not my country, not my world. Yet I allow this woman to nonchalantly brush against my hair. Her hand is warm, slightly damp, possibly from the cloth I see in her other hand. Her touch is soft and carries a woody smell briefly before it's returned to her side.

“Three weeks?” I ask through a haze. “Surely you aren't about to tell me I've been asleep for three weeks.” Why is this what I’m asking? I should be panicking more…

She studies me for a moment, “Sleeping isn't quite what I'd call it. You seemed to have fallen into a stasis of sorts- to accelerate your natural healing speeds dramatically. Why it's such an advanced technique as to be nothing short of amazing. But I suppose it's but a trifle for the Lord Zeroth Knight. But don't you know it, for my doctorate I did a dissertation on such lost magiks. And don't you know it, the stasis effect is one-”

She shoots off word after word in faster succession. Like a machine gun she devolved into words I couldn't even begin to understand let alone reproduce. Something in my face must have given her a hint of some sort because I notice her cheeks turn rosy and she goes silent.

She clears her throat as she stands up from my bed. The way her dress sways is elegant; it’s a full body dress that ends just below her knees that gently raises some as she stands her self up. She’s small, not quite Jamie small, but probably around five four. Her dress is a dark purple with white frills, but is a little darker than what the old man was wearing. The frills give me a “maid” vibe that I’ve read about in fantasy stories. She looks down with a weak smile, framed by a delicate face. Her smile’s softness is reflected in her eyes, a startling green- deeper than even my own.

“You need sustenance my Lord Knight,” Is the first thing she says to me as she stands

Never one to be outdone, I try my best to stand again. My body sways from the exertion and she rushes around the bed, places her hands on my shoulders, “No. You still need rest” she says and she pushes me back onto the bed.

In aggravation I retort, “I’ve evidently spent three weeks resting, I can do without it, thanks,” while forcing myself up despite her weak struggle to force me back down. Her eyes crinkle in worry as I stand. I feel dizzy and begin to collapse.

“As your doctor, I simply must insist that you listen to me,” this girl says while catching me.

To be in the embrace of another is a strange sensation. In my world, only the most severe of circumstances allow for such an intimate gesture. Even professional doctors have to be careful; especially with the paperwork that always follows. Documents and more documents have to be signed by the touchee waving all legal repercussions from the physical contact. Still, as strange a sensation it is, I don’t hate it. Nonetheless, my aggravation intensifies and I push her off and protest her attitude.

She does not look amused and backs away from me. I feel bad, seemingly hurting her feelings but I feel so good knowing I won - or so I thought. How foolish of me. I’m not one who’s spent a lot of time in the hospitals, what few remains. But I’ve always heard of the perseverance of proper doctors. Her eyes flash again, literally flash and there’s a small shock to my lower body. I start to fall backward and move to stop myself but am unable. I fall onto my back into the comfort of the bed; in confusion as I try to stand up.

“What the hell?” is all I can get out as the doctor moves my legs up onto the bed and pulls the cover up to my chin.

“You’ll stay there and listen to your doctor. When your food is here I shall reverse the paralysis."

“What? You did this?” I try protesting more by sliding the cover down but she stares at me, her eyes half lit, “Ok, ok. Please don’t zap the rest of me too. That would be hell.”

“Good. Lord Zeroth or not, you’re still my patient,” she says as she makes her way to the wooden door. As she pulls it open, she turns a glance my way, seemingly checking on me one last time, and then sees herself out.

My gaze wanders over to the window. I try to move my legs, but whatever it is she did to me still remains in effect. I study what I can see of the world outside. Now that I have a moment to myself, I summon all of the effort I can muster in my current state and focus on the here and now. The first thing I should focus on is the fact that I’m not as freaked out as I should be. Human beings tend to be easily broken. Studies and experiments have shown that when reality doesn’t mesh with what’s in a person’s mind, the disconnection causes horrific mental instability.

My reality shifting to one separate from my own world, should have given me severe PTSD at bare minimum. Yet here I am, calmly analyzing everything. Yet, another issue upon this issue is how… familiar? everything is. I don’t recognize the world, the environment, nor any of these people. But my mind buzzes at its deepest part with knowing; and I believe it’s this “knowledge” that’s saving me from a breakdown. But why do I have this knowledge? It's like a string of déjà vu moments tickles my mind and won't go away.

Why am I in this world? Why am I being made to believe in the fantastical when the world has denied it for so many others?

The thoughts swirl around in my mind as the blanket of sleep threatens me. The exhaustion from it all is bearing down on me. I don’t want to fall asleep because in my dreams, come what may. I’m torn between this reality where I’m not myself, my caution and fear dampened, or the world of slumber where I may see her again… but I cannot resist it any longer. I try to resist this world, and the nightmares to come, but I fail. I always, always fail.

 

Sins That Bind - Part 1​

I wake up to the chirping of the artificial birds and the warmth of the sun. Its warmth denies my wakefulness and soothes me deeper into a sleepful bliss. As I’m about to give into the embrace of sleep again, I feel a hand trace across my cheek. I wearily half-open one eye to see her looking down at me.

Rachel gives a shy little grin as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nonetheless, she doesn’t remove her hand. So I allow her to continue her little game. She traces the contours of my cheek down to my chin. I watch as she lets one finger dangle on my chin before playfully letting it drop and land on the top of my chest. I think of what thoughts could be behind those hazel eyes.

Society demands a certain amount of decorum, but I’ve never been one to adhere to such rules as if they’re set in stone. Rachel is different from others. For starters, she’s very touchy, and well aware that it’s taboo. But I don’t let it bother me- perhaps because there’s a little something there, just behind her smile, that I can’t quite put my finger on

The fog of sleep finally seems to recede from my mind and I reach for the heavens to stretch. It’s only now that Rachel finally pulls all digits to her side and gives a small giggle. “It’s time to get up Eve. Lunch is just about over. We still have half of our wonderful day left,” she says to me.

I turn my eyes to her and take her in. Rachel, with her hazel eyes and brunette hair dangling just low enough to tease the beginning curves of her breast. She’s smiling- she’s always smiling. A “wonderful” day is what she always calls it; these mundane days that I let come and go, with not a thought of the things that plight us. Yet to her, these days are always wonderful.

I can’t help but think that at times, she has something inside of her that the rest of us have seemingly lost. She’s a “Natural” after all. I try to resist, but fail, as I find myself all but admiring the way the world appears in the sparkle of her eyes. This mundane existence is wonderful in all that it is, to Rachel. However, these are but idol thoughts in a mind still not quite fully awake. “I don’t wanna,” I protest in a pout.

“You will, regardless. Now-” she stands up and leans down to take my hands while yelling, “Upsie daisy!” and pulling me to my feet.

I nearly run into her at the unexpected force but I manage to stop myself at the last moment. I see a frown flicker across Rachel’s lips for just a moment and then it’s gone. “Let's go. We have history next,” she says much to my dismay.

“Wonderful, Mr. Gordon’s class. Boy am I glad we won’t be missing that one!” I say sarcastically. Rachel holds up a hand, flick readied to go. I let out a gasp and swat her hand away playfully. She gives a giggle and pokes me in the side to tickle me.

After several moments of what would certainly end up on the school bulletin as “violent,” behavior, we collect our things and head down to the class.

The stairs give off a hum in protest to our stamping feet down them. When we reach the exit, Rachel gives a tentative peek outside before fully opening it. She says the coast is clear and we dash out. We run through the lonely courtyard and make our way to the main campus. We pass other students here or there- other “truants” cutting it close to the bell. A ding-dong chime lets us know we’re only a handful minutes away from class starting. We begin a full run but stop ourselves as we turn a bend and notice a teacher. I don’t recognize him.

He probably teaches the last years- students about to "enter the real world," but we still can't afford to be caught by him, not this close to the bell.

He spends forever trying to straighten up a poster. Behind me, Rachel lightly taps her foot in irritation. A couple minutes later he nods to himself and seems to finally be satisfied with his tedious chore. With an about-face, he cuts across the hall and into the teacher’s lounge. I can make out the name, “Victor” on his nameplate. But this isn’t the time for such idle thoughts.

By my figuring, we have less than a minute left. Rachel and I sprint for dear life and slam open the classroom door. We rush to our seats and the moment we connect chair with butt Jamie shouts out “safe” and the bell rings. That very moment Mr. Gordon walks in on pudgy legs, with his short hair and his stupidly white tie. He pushes up his glasses while laying his books on his lectern and scans the room. Before long his eyes land on me and Rachel in the seat behind me.

“Nice to see you ladies have made it,” he says in his throaty voice. With a bashful smile, Rachel gives Mr. Gordon a tiny wave. Mr. Gordon simply nods and starts his lecture on the wonderful world of history. He talks about the world of old and the wars they fought. I'm all but forced to daydream out of the window to get away from it all.

I simply stare into the field below and imagine- just imagine- how much more things could be. War. I can’t even imagine a “war.” Entire groups of people killing one another for the vaguest of ideas and promises. Life doesn’t like that kind of thinking though. We’re given what we are, and can’t change it. That’s why history is so lame. You can’t learn from the past because the mistakes of the past are theirs and theirs alone. Just like today’s mistakes are ours, just like how today’s won’t be the next generation’s.

The chime sounds and startles me from my thoughts. I look up just in time to see Mr. Gordon leaving with a scowl on his face, along with Rachel and Jamie making their way over to me. “What’s up?” I ask them.

“Let’s go have some fun,” Rachel says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Can Johan come?” Jamie asks.

Rachel pointedly says,“The new one? Ew, no. Just us friends. We haven’t all hung out together in a while. You’ve been busy-”

“Having a life?” Jamie says with a hefty dose of snark. Rachel rolls her eyes and goes to flick Jamie before seemingly thinking better of it, and pulling back. The glare on Jamie’s face is terrifying. But she’s familiar enough to Rachel’s far-too-casual attitude. Once we’ve all collected our stuff we decide to make a beeline for the shops by the station.

My time spent with them is long, and bittersweet in its relative shortness. There’s a small candy store we love to go to when we have a chance. I love their little chocolates. They’re handmade, a trait so few of us have nowadays. The clothing stores we visit are nice too. Clothing isn’t my forte the way it is for Jamie- she’s all about the fashion. But she’s in an extra fervor today due to us making her ditch her boyfriend.

The clothes she makes us try on range from too embarrassing to think about again, to super cute like the kinds of dresses you see in old children stories, like the one about sheep. Some of my favorites, though I wouldn’t admit it to Jamie, were the darker dresses with the frills. I personally think they give a nice mix of cute with tones of maturity.

I can’t help but notice Rachel a bit more than I usually would. The setting light, and the way it bounces off of her makes her seem a little otherworldly. But in paying extra attention to her, I’ve realized that she’s gotten quieter as the day’s gone on. I also notice her offering me a lot of glances. Everytime I try to get her attention, to give a silent inquiry on what’s wrong with her, she looks away in a hurry.

It was during one of these little games of cat-and-mouse that Jamie offers up paying for our food if we eat her favorite restaurant- so of course we do!

The restaurant we visit is part of the normal layout. We’re greeted by the Serverbot as we enter. It requests our handprints in order to verify our identity numbers. For myself, and Jamie, the beep is a fairly flat one. Yet for Rachel, it’s a bit higher. Nothing else comes of it, but it’s another one of those subtle reminders of how she’s different from the rest of us.

The Serverbot directs us to a table- though honestly, it’s three tables places loosely together to give the illusion of a connected dinner. The chairs have a few feet between them too, to prevent any kind of misunderstandings. My observations are cut short as the Serverbot comes wheeling up to us, on four wheels, don’t you know it.

We slide into our seats, and after analyzing the space between each of us, to make sure we’re following decorum, it seems satisfied and asks us to choose from the menu on its chest. It comes to us each in turn as we make our selections. “God I love these salads,” Jamie says while placing her order.

“Pff It's all about the cake Jamie. You just don't understand,” Rachel says while tapping through the Serverbot.

“I understand my figure Rach,” Jamie quips back. I glance up to see the Severbot wheeling up to me. It stands at about four feet tall with a sleek design. Every bit of it is perfectly angular and its aesthetics are efficient without being offensive. It's a cool metallic gray, boxy, and with two kinds of cameras on its square “head” to represent eyes. Its chest flashes at me when it stops a foot away from me.

“Hey now. Serverbot that’s awfully close to my friend don't you think?” Jamie starts to raise a fuss.

“Jamie. It's fine. It's proximity algorithm probably just had a hiccup,” I try to calm her down in hopes of avoiding a scene. But Jamie is having none of that.

“No. That's not alright. Especially not with regulars. Serverbot reexamine your distance parameters and upload the results. Then decommission yourself while sending us another Serverbot.” I feel a frown coming on with the eyes of the restaurant on us now.

“Apologies consumer. This unit has completed its primary function. Uploading data now…. Upload completed. Calling for new unit…. Message received. This unit thanks you for your time and patience. This unit apologizes for any and all perceived slights, real or imagined.” With that, the Serverbot slumps forward some and goes dim.

A moment later its chest flashes and it straightens itself up. It moves a good three inches away from me and announces that a new unit has been installed and apologizes for the inconvenience. “Of course our meals today are free,” Jamie says with spite in her tone.

“Of course Consumer.”

I'm so embarrassed, but at least now people are mostly looking away- seemingly having grown bored. I quickly place my order for the most generic mix of foods I can and breathe a sigh of relief when the Serverbot moves on.

I feel a tap on my foot under the table and almost jump in surprise. I look up and find Jamie is busy playing with her iWrist and taking some kind of photos of herself- seemingly never satisfied with them as she keeps making angry faces after looking each one over.

I glance over to Rachel but she's looking away with a bored expression. I see a smile tugging her lips, though, when I feel a small nudge on my foot again. My heart starts to speed up and I take a nervous glance at the people around me. No one seems to be paying us any attention. I can't believe she's doing this. She's always skirting the rules like this.

I fight, but fail to hide a small smile while returning a small kick back to her feet. I see her smile widen a little and feel another nudge. I send a kick back to her and before I know it we're wrestling with each other’s legs under the tables. Even though we're goofing off and having fun I can tell even Rachel is starting to get nervous. No surprise there though, we could easily get in a lot of trouble for this. Reluctantly, we both seem to come to the same understanding and give up our little game after just a few minutes.

“Oh god, why are you both smiling like fools?” Jamie asks the moment we stop. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize that she's none the wiser of our little game.

“I know not of what you speak Princess,” Rachel says in a mocking old-timey accent.

Jamie rolls her eyes and scoffs, simply saying “Ok” before returning to her pictures. Before long she stops and a forlorn expression plasters itself on her face.

“What's up bitch?” I ask hoping to get a rise out of her.

She glances up at me and says, “Just… memories lost,” with a distant expression I didn't even realize someone like her could make. In that moment I realized that maybe I've been looking down on her more than I should have been.

But before I can say anything, Rachel stands up and asks if we wanna leave yet. Jamie nods and stands up quickly while putting her iWrist to sleep.

We walk slowly through the streets together, us three, separated by a distance dictated to us before our births yet followed with a fervor. The sleepy sun paints us orange while teasing a purple throughout the sky. We're connected in the sun’s gift and walk slowly back to the station.

I believe in each of our minds, we simply want to extend this day just a moment longer. We drift through the crowd, always wary of our proximity to everyone else. We keep our relations just out of reach, yet just close enough to form.

Stuck in a purgatory, the ties that bind are numerous and multifaceted, yet ephemeral. I could reach out to take hold of one, only to have it simply disappear from the briefest of touches. Before the melancholy can truly take over, we arrive at the station and give our goodbyes to Jamie. She lives further away than we do so this is a common scene for us.

As if choreographed in our synchronicity, Rachel and I turn around and start walking at the same time. Once the crowds start to thin and the twilight begins to take on a deeper hue of darkness, Rachel starts to make her way closer to me. With every step, I watch as she shrinks the gap between us. Perhaps this is proof of what binds us.

As we get closer to home, Rachel suggests we take the scenic route through the park. It's a detour for sure but I figure it's alright. I enjoy the sound of the small transitions of our steps, from concrete, to dirt, as we enter the park from the roadside entrance. We pass through overhangs of trees greeting visitors with touches not always desired.

I've noticed for some time now, that Rachel keeps stealing glances at me. And I don’t mean the kind of glances from before, that seemed like she was just hesitant to say something. No, these glances were wrought with worry. In the coming darkness, with the artificial lights bouncing at us from various directions, it looks like she’s also slowly turning red.

Eventually, I realize we've entered the center of the park and are wholly alone. This is when I notice Rachel has stopped walking with me. I turn around, a good five feet in front of her, and my breath catches in lungs.

She stands in the light, beaming red with her fingers twirling against each other- head hung low. I don't know why but my heart starts to beat rapidly and my breath comes with difficulty. “Rachel?” I ask in a raspy voice. Why am I acting like this? She doesn't reply to me so I clear my throat and call her again.

She looks up at me and then back down. The longer I stare at her, the more she nervously shifts her weight from one leg to another. The sight captivates me- confuses me. So I shake my head and take a couple tentative steps toward her. “What's wrong Rachel?”

She seems to have finally made up her mind about something because she raises her fist to her chest and gives a nod. She turns a steely gaze toward me. Our eyes meet and again my breath catches. I've never seen that kind of expression before.

My heart is racing so fast that I feel like I could set off the health warning on my iWrist. My body is coated with a sheen of sweat and my joints have turned stiff. Rachel takes a step towards me. Just a single step but it feels like a giant leap. She so close to me now- about a foot away. I'm panicking and the anxiety has turned me to stone.

My breathing is quickening and that causes my throat to burn as air it rushing down it at extreme speeds. Rachel disregards this though, and reaches up to cup my cheek. “Rachel, what are you doing?” I can’t help but ask.

“Eve I…” she hesitates, and her eyes take on a watery sheen. She takes in another lungful of air and continues with shaking hands and a voice to match, “I love you Eve. I have loved you for so long.”

I feel an instant disconnect between myself and my surroundings. I cannot even begin to understand what is happening; yet all of that aside, Rachel is leaning in. I'm no fool. I know what's coming. I need to pull away and it needs to be now. Barring that, I need to push her away from me.

But I do neither. I need to take charge of this situation and stop things from proceeding but I don't. Why am I just standing here?

 

Sins That Bind - Part 2 ​

Why is my head racing and my stomach fluttering? My breathing is labored and my head is light. I feel drunk on nothing and yet what hits me first is her smell. Her shampoo drifts into me and smells of pineapples with a hint of oranges. Her lips carry a mint-like taste. It soothes me and relaxes my body. I feel elated at the direct contact between Rachel and I. I would never have imagined something could feel like this. I'm dizzy and can't tell which way is up or down.

Yet before I can even right myself, Rachel moves away from me- but only marginally. She's still so close that only an inch separated our lips. She's staring into my eyes expectantly and I cannot look away from her hazel pools, wet with a dew of tears.

But what pops out of my mouth seems to surprise Rachel just as much as it does me. “Why?” is all I ask. Rachel's eyes focus into slits for a moment before widening back to their beautiful, full size.

“Because I know that if it's you, it's ok.”

This takes the air right out of me and I stumble backward. I come crashing back down into my own self and ask her in a hoarse voice, “What's that supposed to mean Rachel?”

The worry and anxiety on her face is in full view now. “I-I just meant that I'm pretty sure it's ok with you. That I- we maybe… could become more?” Rachel says, almost in question, yet so hopeful, as if unsure of even her own words

I start to shake my head in defiance, “Rachel what are you talking about? We’re both women!”

“But I like women Eve. And you have never shown anything but an interest in liking me too!” Rachel is nearly shouting from her building anxiety.

I panic like nothing before, backtracking fast and shaking my head. What is she talking about? I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all. “Rachel no. That might be fine for you, but I’m not a Natural. I don’t like women. I can’t like women.”

“Then maybe you just like me? Look Eve-” Rachel says while taking some steps closer to me. I meet them in stride by moving backward. Rachel pauses and continues, “If you’ll just give it a chance and think about it. I don’t believe I’m wrong. Eve, we make each other so happy, so why do you have to make such a big deal about it? There aren’t even laws against this kind of thing you know!”

“It’s wrong because that isn’t who I am?! Obviously!” I can’t take it anymore. Whatever she thinks she saw, whatever she thinks she knows about me is wrong. It has to be. It’s impossible. So I do whatever it is I need to do to get out of this situation- I run.

I run away despite her shouting behind me. I run with all of the force I can muster. I don’t know how much time passed, or what directions I took, but I when I come back to myself I realize I’m standing in my room, in front of my bed. I glance at the clock and see it is far pass the time I usually go to sleep. School is going to be a nightmare tomorrow. But at least with school comes the normality of my everyday. My days will be just the same as before. I can’t wait.

My alarm blares and I’m forced awake from my dreamless sleep, whatever few hours I had. At first, I was accosted by nightmares but even those dried up. My world stayed dyed a beautiful onyx the entire night.

I complete my morning routine but run into a worried grandfather before I can make it outside. He stands in the doorway, a giant of a man. He’s bald with a savage face, but one with kind eyes underneath. He’s muscular and in shape for someone his age. “Eve. You were out very late last night. I was worried, and now you’re leaving today without practicing. Is everything alright?” He asks while approaching me.

I give a nod and reply, “Yes Grandpa, I just lost track of time last night; and today I’m out early to get somethings for school.” He gives me a dubious look that says he doesn’t quite believe my story. But he trusts me enough to give me the benefit of a doubt.

“Fine Honey. Have a good day,” he barrels out in his booming voice while stooping down and giving me a hug. He’s warm, with a large chest. The feeling of his skin on mine is normal- the only person to ever touch me besides Rachel.

At that thought I snap stiff, this is different than how Rachel felt when she was so close to me. Grandpa smells of musk and sweat and a rough cologne whereas Rachel smells sweet and of fruits.

Grandpa takes notice of my reaction and backs up to take notice of me. I give him a smile that doesn’t quite come across as honest and inform him I’m just not having the best of mornings and that I’m tired. He hesitantly nods and waves me off as I leave. I’m hours too early for school but I don’t care. I have to get to class well ahead of Rachel. I can’t deal with her right now. On the off chance that she decides to wait for me like usual, I’ll be well gone.

But my world is shattered right in front of me. When I turn the corner to start on the main road wouldn’t you know it, Rachel is waiting for me. I make the mistake of meeting her eye. She makes the mistake of flashing me a smile. My heart speeds up and I think of making a break for it but I’m too slow. She catches up to me simply tells me good morning.

Odd. She’s odd. This whole thing is odd. Why is she acting so chipper? How can she seem ok after last night? “Wonderful day today, ne?” she says to me so casually. I give a stiff nod in return and we start making our way to school. I don’t know if it’s something we both meant, but we avoid passing by the park today. We take another route and make our way to school in silence. It’s a long and winding way to school, made longer by our seemingly shared desire to make it take as long as possible.

The distance between us is my savior, but it’s damning. Rachel is my best friend. Why does it have to be like this? Why is such an insurmountable distance between us represented in so few feet? I walk with a weight on my thoughts, heavy as lead, dragging each foot to chase the other on our long road to school. It’s a terrible, brief amount of time. But it drags on devilishly long.

Eventually, we arrive at school, and I don’t know why, but we end up at our spot on the roof. I lay down like usual, in my usual spot. But Rachel, instead of sitting down where she normally would, she comes right up against me and lays down too. I start to panic and pull away but she grabs a hold of me and pulls me up against her. She nuzzles me up under her chin and I have to resist the urge to punch and kick until I’m free. The panic is taking over and an attack is threatening to break me.

Rachel shushes me and rubs her chin on my head while gently rocking me. It’s only during this brief moment of respite that I notice I can hear the sound of her heart. It’s hammering like mad. It’s thump, thump, thumping pierces her chest audibly and echoes inside my skull.

I’m able to realize it for what it’s worth, if only for a second. She’s scared. Her heart is telling her to flee too, but unlike me, she doesn’t flee. Instead, she pushes forward, determined to achieve her goals and acquire that which she seeks.

Her courage hits me hard and causes my anxiety to be replaced with guilt, fear, and depression. Everything in my life has been so dull, so unfeeling. But Rachel, holding me like this, is warm. She’s feeling. Her feelings are transferred to me and forces me to acknowledge that this position we’re in, if only tentatively, is maybe alright. Perhaps I’m comfortable like this. Perhaps it doesn’t bother me as much as it should.

But the thought of that causes the anxiety to rise again. Before long the panic has once again overtaken everything else and I push her away. She looks at me with confusion, “Eve. It’s alright. It’s alright to feel ok with it. You don’t have to force yourself to be something you’re not.”

I shake my head at her and call her crazy. I tell her that I’m not “forcing” myself to be or do anything. In fact, I tell her, she’s the one trying to force something onto me.

I don’t know what’s come over me again but I’m practically screaming at her. All the while Rachel is slowly backing up from me. I tell her that she doesn’t know me. That she doesn’t get to decide I’m something I’m not. I scream everything I can at her until I start to see darkness around her.

The darkness gets deeper and heavier as she passes right through it, to the edge of the building. As if lured in by our confrontation the door to the roof opens up, and Jamie comes out. “What the hell is going on here!” she shouts. I turn and look at her and I tell her everything. God, why do I tell her “everything” that happened?

Why do I tell her about Rachel “forcing” herself on me? Why do I tell her about how Rachel is trying to corrupt me? All the while the shock on Jamie’s face is telling. Her face contorts in disgust- disgust aimed directly towards Rachel. The darkness around Rachel grows, and at this point, I could almost swear that it wasn’t just me, but that the darkness was actually there. Except no one else noticed it. It must have just been a part of my psyche as it broke; as I painted a tale of Rachel that has absolutely broken her.

The look on her face is destructive and pained. I’ve never seen that kind of look on a living creature before but I’m sure what it means. It means she’s been broken. I- her best friend- her… love interest has betrayed her. Worse than betraying her, I’ve actively done everything to destroy her. I’ve painted her as a villain all to distract everyone from myself and the things that were popping into my mind just moments before when Rachel and I laid there together.

Rachel’s face is downcast and distraught. Thick tears plop onto the rooftop under us and she’s swaying on her feet. The darkness gains a seemingly physical existence and seems to interact with the world now.

Rachel, with her broken heart and soul, turns and peers off of the school rooftop. “Rachel, I know you’ve done horrible things but you need to come back over here,” Jamie says while trying to keep a calm voice. It doesn’t really register with me as to why Jamie is suddenly sounding very nervous. All I can think about is that dark shadow hanging just out of sight near Jamie. Why had I forgotten about this? It seems so real now. Maybe at the time, it was just too much for my mind to take in. Perhaps being here in this world has opened my mind enough to perceive things I missed before.

This world… it’s only then that I realize I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming a tale from my life. The events before me now, I have no control of. I’m a spectator of a movie- of slides going by. I remember Jamie scream at Rachel to come away from the edge. I remember the darkness seemingly shaking in delight of it all. I remember how quiet I was and how little I said even when I should have realized what was happening. Why would I have stood there like that? Was I really that weak?

But what a foolish question, I’m still that weak after all. So it shouldn’t surprise me. I see Rachel teetering near the chest-high wall of the rooftop with a near-dazed expression on her face. She screams out for me, to tell me it’s not what I think. To tell me that at the end of it all, she loved me. The darkness shimmers and something happens. I don’t know what. Even in the dreams of memories gone, I can’t make out what happens.

What I remember next is Jamie pulling me into a hug and calling the police. All I can remember thinking at the time is how different she feels than Rachel or Grandpa. I remember thinking it’s odd for her to be touching me. We’ve never touched before. But she smells of apple-scented perfume and shampoo. She’s soft and contours to me, if only a little less perfectly than Rachel did.

I remember the next year passing by as interviews and questions as they come and go. I remember the day at trial with Grandpa at my side as the judge proclaims the event to have been the suicide of a Natural whom was unable to cope with her differences from those around her. He absolves me of all guilt and sends me on my way.

And just like that, my time with Rachel was over. The world simply moved on. From that day on no one talked about Rachel. Her story was no longer in the news. Grandpa and Jamie didn’t bring her up; my classmates no longer left parting gifts on Rachel’s desk as a farewell. It was as if that trial was the darkness I saw before, and like before, it had swallowed up all that Rachel was.

That day Rachel was taken from me. First, she was taken from me physically nearly a year ago. Before long, as the days go by, she’ll also be taken from me emotionally as well. The day will come when I’ll simply see the story of Rachel play out in my mind, and I won’t feel anything. I’ll simply be numb to it all.

Time again after that, I’ll even forget about who Rachel was- is- and that will be the moment she’s taken from me completely.

 

Alpha - Part 1​

I wake up with a start. The sound of dinnerware being placed on the counter queues me in to someone else being here. But my mind is racing, despite the fog of sleep still be present, or perhaps, because of it. This waking world grants me no solace from my past. “Apologies, I did not mean to awaken you, my Lord Knight,” a girl directs towards me. Even now, I can’t work up the energy to respond to her. Memories brought forth from my nightmare, threaten to consume me. I spent years suffering from what happened to Rachel. The girl picks up a bowl from her tray, and approaches me.

“This should help you regain your strength quickly,” she says while placing the bowl in my lap, on my legs.

“Oh, I can feel my legs again,” I say while wiggling my toes out from under the blanket.

She replies, “Of course, it was a temporary measure to get you under control. Lord Knight or no, you’re stubborn.”

“Eve.” I reply while looking down at the porridge. I guess it’s some kind of porridge anyways.

“What?” this girl looks at me with a bewildered look.

“My name. Well, technically my nickname. I’m Evangeline, but basically, everyone calls me 'Eve,' and I’d rather you do the same than call me something strange."

“Absolutely not,” she says in a hurry, nearly dropping the glass of some sweet smelling liquid she was offering me. “You are the Grand Lord, Zeroth Knight. To have someone such as I call you so, that’s unheard of.”

I push the bowl off my lap and onto a stable part of the bed and say, “Uh… right. Well, that title is pretentious as all hell and I’m not touching my food until you call me something more normal.”

Her eyes flash quickly and I hastily add, “Fine paralyze me, what’s that going to accomplish? I won’t be able to eat if you paralyze too much and I’m not eating on my own unless you do this for me.” I further my point by sliding the bowl a little further from me. She looks at me with a look of utter confusion, as if I just grew a second head.

“Is it so bad to want something normal in this abnormal situation?” I ask while looking up into her emerald eyes. For the first time, I notice her hair. The bangs are long and wrap around her face to her chin. Progressively her hair gets shorter the further to the back it goes until it all meets in a bun; which is tucked up under a half-hat wrap. More startling is her hair color, unearthly and yellow - not blonde, yellow. “Evangeline-sama,” is all she says while she picks the bowl up and places it back on my lap and adding, “Please eat and recover quickly. The country is on edge without you at your best.”

I’m aggravated, but I figure that’s the compromise I’ll have to make for the time being, and besides I was hungry as all hell and this food did smell good. I tentatively take a sip and boy, it didn’t just smell good, it tasted wonderful.

As I place the spoon into the empty bowl I notice her staring at me and blush. “I'm not always such a pig,” I say just before taking a sip of this sweet smelling liquid. I noticed her holding back an obvious chuckle but I couldn't see a hint of disgust on her face.

This liquid is as sweet as it smells- oozing down my throat and tasting divine. After buying myself a moment with the drink I clear my throat before adding, “So, my dedicated doctor, what's your name?”

She suddenly finds the space on the wall behind me fascinating as the gears in her head turn. “Ninavin Von Vvesson. Whoever is left just call me Nina.” Her gaze drifts to me almost expectantly with a slight sign of what I can only determine to be… reluctance? Fear?

“Nina it is. Once again, I'm Evangeline.” I extend my hand to her and she simply stares at it. Odd. You'd think shaking hands would be fairly universal but I suppose not. Honestly even that was going out of favor by the populace of my age; too much potential risk I suppose. As if an idea popped into her head she sucked in a breath. But before she could take action there's a knock at the door.

She shakes her head and stands up to make towards the door with a sway in her hips. Nina opens the door and there's a brief pause before she lets whoever is therein. In walks an absolutely stunning - can I use that word?- stunning woman. She'd blow most models out of the water. She waltzes in with an entourage of three men and another woman behind her. This main woman stops in front of me and all four behind her, stop perfectly in sync.

She's tall for a woman, easily six foot. She peers down at me with eyes so blue as to almost be clear. She's imposing, terribly so. No one alive could deny this woman has had a lifetime of commanding. She's used to making others bend the knee. She's clad in a red outfit with some kind of silver chest piece, silver gauntlets, and shiny, silver greaves.

A knight; an honest to god knight if there's ever been one. Embroiled in the chest plate is a dragon with what appears to be the world in its hands. “I am Commander Rodiger. Charlotte Rodiger.” She says while offering some kind of a salute I've never seen before, consisting of some kind of arm crossed horizontally over her chest movement. In doing so her hair falls over her shoulders. I find it odd to have such long hair just loosely hanging there while in battle garb. You'd think it would get in the way. I can’t help but notice that her hair is a beautiful emerald green, light enough to be harder to notice in the dark but you know it would shine in the light.

“Evangeline Sayagawa,” I announced my name. I run my eyes up her and only manage to move them about halfway downwards before I realized that I have been staring for far too long and am entering the realm of creepiness. I force my eyes upwards and meet hers, noticing her watching me with an eyebrow raised. Before either of us can say anything, a voice slices through us.

“What can we do for you Commander Rodiger?” Nina asks with some ice to her voice and adds, “If you don't recall the Lord Zeroth Knight is resting after suffering the Transcendence and needs more rest. She shouldn't even be out of bed right now.” She says with some restrained annoyance as she glances at me. “So please make it quick.”

Miss Rodiger turns a deathly stare of daggers at Nina and spits out, “You allow your maids to talk to her betters so?” She furrows her brow and continues as a sign of recognition passes over her, “Ah, Ninavin. Of course you'd be here. Even you have some use.” She turns back to me and my frown. I don't like the arrogance this woman exudes, and she's pissing me off.

“What do you want Charlotte?” I notice the eyes of every person in the rooms go wide besides the person in question.

“Clever girl. Call someone in a position of power by their first name to show a lack of respect and thereby placing yourself in the dominant position,” she says cooly with a sardonic smile on her lips, “But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage my Lord Zeroth Knight.” She continues arrogantly, “Were I to do the same, my own men here would be honor-bound to slay me where I stand. After all, I am nothing within the light of the Zeroth.” With that addition, it's my turn to go wide-eyed. My jaw drops and before I can pick it off the floor Charlotte continues, “But I'll take peace in the mission I've been placed in charge of.”

I notice her hand slacks over the hilt of her sword and my pulse begins to drum loudly in my ears. “What mission?” Nina asks.

Without looking at Nina, Charlotte continues to stare at me and answers the question. “Grand Lord, Zeroth Knight is hereby summoned to the arena to face First Knight, Fennis Haslothun in battle over a dispute of honor.” No sooner had she completed her sentence than Nina was standing between the two of us. With her back towards me, I couldn’t see her face, but I could guess the look on it. She seemed like such a loving girl who would despise violence and pain.

I imagine a look of panic on her face as she near-screams, “No! Absolutely not! The Lord Knight is in no position to fight anyone. She’s only just came to and had her first meal. Look at her.” She gestures behind her to me, “She’s barely standing.”

Charlotte’s mouth twists in a cruel smile of delight. She wasn’t kidding about being happy about my situation. You can practically see her cooing over how horrible I must look.

But let's back up for a moment. “Did you just say you intend to have me fight in an arena?” I could hear the panic in my own voice as it rises an octave.. But I push on as I moved to Nina’s side. “Like some kind of old fantasy? Are you kidding me right now? And as Nina said, I’m about to fall over just talking to you. I’m in no shape to -”

“Nina?” Disgust drips with Charlotte’s words.

She turns her head with a jerk and glares at Nina. “The Lord Zeroth Knight addresses you so?”

Thwack. A sound I’m not familiar with hits me before my brain registers what just happened. Nina is practically on the floor before my body is able to move. “What the fuck was that for?” I shout.

I storm up to Charlotte with my fist clenched. I can’t believe I just saw someone hit someone else. What the hell is this shit? “How dare you?!” As I bring my fist up I feel Nina’s hand pulling it down.

“My Commander,” she says while standing and steadying herself. “My patient is in no condition to fight anyone, let alone the First Knight himself. I’m sorry but you’ll have to relay to your masters that such a thing is impossible currently.” I notice it just in time this time to catch Nina as she falls over from Charlotte’s backhand.

“You need to train your bitches better Zero. Well, for however long you remain the Zeroth.”

She signals to her guards with a nod and they start making their way to me. Once one is on either side of me with my arms in a tight hold Charlotte continues, “This is a direct order from the Master. You have no say- either of you. We shall continue to the arena presently.”

I stumble forward as the two men on either side of me practically drag me out of the room, despite Nina’s complaints. The walk across the wooden floor is more taxing than I would have imagined. I couldn’t notice as well as before, but my muscles have definitely weakened from so much bed rest. This can’t end well. As to why I’m calmly analyzing this? I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now. I’m drug outside to the bright sunlight. I have to squint from the pain it causes me. I can’t help but give in to the urge to shut my eyes, and look down.

I can only imagine how this must look to those we silently pass. No one speaks but I can imagine. This… “Zeroth Knight” seems important to these people. And here I am being escorted - dragged really, through the cobblestone streets with my head hung low in apparent guilt. When I realize this, I force my head high. I've been a lot of things in life, but never a disappointment. Well… that’s how I’ve tried to live at any rate… Rachel would probably disagree with me. That's what matters most to me.

Perhaps that's an influence from Grandpa, to feel such guilt over things deemed not to be my fault. Because I know, deep inside, that it was my fault. That day could have gone so many directions, and I made all the wrong choices.

I scan the guards holding me. They're nondescript looking if I'm going to be honest. One with a “real world” color of red and the other with auburn hair with peppered gray despite his apparent young age. They're dressed in some kind of leather skin jerkins with a long sword at their sides. The woman and other man are behind me and I can't see them, so I let my eyes wander to the surroundings.

There's a lot of people, with it seemingly being some time at midday. Most of them are in various kinds of old-world clothing such as… tunics? I think they're called. Their hair tends to be normal in shade. We pass what appears to be an inn with a sign hanging over it that I can't read. I catch a glimpse inside and see a rowdy group of men and women having a good time; lucky them.

 

Alpha - Part 2​

I glance up at Charlotte’s back and study her. Dignified and graceful - those words are probably the closest I could come to describe her from this angle. “What is it Zero?” She says as if sensing my eyes on her.

“Why “Zero”?” I ask as we take a corner further towards our destination.

“Because it is your name,” she says as we approach a building. I say “building,” but it's huge. Not the Coliseum in old books about Rome big, but still huge. It appears to be made of stone and has arches that bend and curve this way and that.

“But that's not my name,” I say distractedly- the beautiful sculptures of probable heroes and fighters of days gone by, demanding my attention. “My name’s Evangeline,” I say, only to be quickly met with a denial from Charlotte.

“Zeroth is your title, part of it at any rate. Are all peoples from the Outerlands as uneducated as you? Or are you a beautiful representation of your people?” This woman is amazing. She insults me while teaching me, all the while mixing me up with someone else. I know I'm not from around here but I feel admitting that won't end well.

So instead of causing more issues by snapping back or correcting where I’m from I simply ask, “Then why Zero?”

She glances briefly at me and says, “Zero is the name of Zeroth. Zeroth is a title within the Knighthood. The Lord Zeroth oversees the Ten Royal Knights and heads-” her sentence is cut off as she lets out a small grunt and pushes open the massive wooden doors. Inside is largely barren, besides the apparent receptionist. “And heads the Consulate which in turn answers only to the One King.” Her explanation ends far too quickly as she moves to make conversation with the receptionist.

They're far too quiet to hear, but the severity of the conversation is obvious by the glances the girl shoots my way. And indeed she is a girl; she can't be older than thirteen or fourteen. With a nod to the girl, Charlotte turns our way and motions to a hallway. The guards force me along to the hallway; to what I know to be where my life may come to an end. The walk has taken its toll on me and my exhaustion is severe. My breathing is ragged as the men release me and wordlessly walk away. I hear a slam in the distance as I fall to my knees.

My vision darkens around the edges and I attempt to stabilize my breathing. Some hulking brute of a man enters from a different door than the one I was brought in from. I can't stress how absolutely gargantuan he is, yet he hands me a cup of water with more gentleness than I would have expected, and returns from where he came. His bald head and massive frame reminded me of my Grandpa, causing my chest to pang in hurt.

I hear the door slam in the distance. I down the liquid as fast as I could- bad idea. The water is cool as it spews out of my mouth and lands on me. But I relish the coolness on my skin. It's only now that I realize how hot I am. I won't say it's scorching. but the weather is an obvious summer. I feel terrible as if a cloud hangs over my mind. I'm shaking from nerves at the impending sentence- death for what it's worth.

Yet in a way, I’m happy to be so nervous. My senses have felt dull this entire time, so it’s nice to know that I still have them. I suppose it’s a lack of energy?

It's mute but I can hear the cheer of the crowd through the gate in front of me. I hear the gears begin to turn. The door is in no hurry to raise and so I do the only thing I can do- I force myself to stand. I will face my day on my feet and whatever may come, I will face without disappointing myself. As the gate reaches the halfway point, the sounds of the spectators intensify and explode into me.

As I'm walking out to the fantastical, I am made wholly a part of the chorus that surrounds me. But as quick as any song could begin, it ends. The silence is deafening as I make my way to the center of the arena to meet a near-familiar face. The man stands in front of me with his shoulder-length, blue hair in a bun of some sort. He's wearing basically what the other guards were wearing, with perhaps with a bit more thickness behind his leather. He stares indignantly at me.

The condescension drips from his tone, “So good to see you show up to my challenge, Heretic.” He looks to the crowd and loudly proclaims “A heretic I say of she!” The crowd goes absolutely nuts over his statement. The roar shakes the foundation of the colosseum.

“Silence.”

I hear a small voice proclaim. The power beyond such a small murmur amongst the sea of voices is tremendous. As if unified on an unseen level, all noise stops, even the birds respect the voice.

“What for is the arena gathering today? Speak it before all to hear.” He stands on the balcony, gesturing to the crowd. I can't see him well from here but I can tell he's wearing some kind of purple and white robes.

“My Lord of Lords, we stand here today among a heretic whose title is undeserved. Our Lord Zeroth Knight is unworthy of her title and I demand she be stripped of it post haste and the title returned to its rightful owner." The crowd falls silent and I feel eyes upon me.

“I don't really understand, but you want whatever has happened to me for yourself right? Then take it!” I shout.

All around me the crowd murmurs. The old man on high is blinding with the sun behind him. I can't make out much but I can tell he's contemplating me. “You wish to give up the title of Zeroth. As unheard of as it is, we do have contingency plans in place to do so.” His voice is quiet, but booming, ever the contradiction, and causes the crowd to erupt into silence.

The man I can only assume to be Fennis, turns to me smugly. “Wise choice you cur.” He turns to readdress the man on high, “You heard her admission of guilt. Strip the heretic and allow me to take my proper place!” Fennis bellows. I recoil at “admission of guilt” because I've done nothing wrong. I didn't choose this - any of this. But I don't care. I want it to end.

I stare up at the man on high- this kingly man and shout, “I am guilty of nothing! But I do not seek the title. It found me and so I return it!”

The man contemplates me for a moment before addressing the crowd. “What has been given can always be taken, and so it is so.”

He raises his arm and extends one finger to me. I recognize this motion and all I can think is, “shit” before I feel pain unimaginable, yet experienced before. My blood gushes with fire and my body tries to melt from the inside out. Yet this time there is something subtle. Something just beneath the skin; within me, I feel a pounding separate from the burning. Something within, wants out so bad but there's a pressure- a build up that won't release; the all-consuming fire demands a sacrifice that just won't.

I hear the gasps and silent screams across the colosseum through burning ears. I don't know when it happened but I'm on my knees, staring at the ground and smelling the earthen-blood mixture. As blinding light dissipates and my vision clears up, I can see Fennis standing and facing the crowd with his broad shoulders extended and his arms wide. The crowd is silent. I look down at the ground as I push myself up. It takes a moment to stabilize myself and I feel as if something is out of place but can't put my finger on it.

Fennis turns this way and that, checking himself out as if expecting something to have changed. “You! What does the Zeroth feel like? How did you know it?!” He demands while turning to face me with a scowl on his face. He storms up to me and grabs me by my collar. My head bobs up and down as I try to form words.

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” I grab his hands and yank them off me, “I felt, I don't know, good I guess.”

He looks at me with fire in his eyes, almost literally for how red they were, and he turns around and stares up to the Man On High and asks if the title was stripped and transferred. The man, looking down on us all says, “It is… not so. Cannot be so.” For once, his confidence falters as he continues, “The Transcendence has faltered…”

In a flash, Fennis was running towards me and takes a swing aimed at my jaw. I duck it, or more like, I fall and he happens to miss. “What the hell are you doing?” I shout. But he slams a foot down where my head just was- missing because I rolled. I jump up and block the incoming blow. Again and again, he unleashes a flurry of attacks all meant to maim or kill.

“I'll take your head here and-” he kicks up dirt into my eyes and in my blindness, he lands a kick to the sternum. I fall back several feet and roll off the ground as a stomp misses me again. I falter as I stand, and fall over. “And then I'll become the Zeroth. The Transcendence may have failed but the rules still stand. Upon your head shall my power grow. None unworthy may have the title!” He swings his right arm to his side and the air itself blurs.

I can't stand up, but I can stare. And stare I do- at the unbelievable event before me; the crowd falls into a deadly hush and even the clouds stop their movement. He grips something, something that can not be and yet is. His hand slithers around it and he pulls it towards himself. As if tearing apart the void of creation itself, he pulls a sword, if you can call it that, from the space to his side. The very sky cracks open and the clouds part. Fennis is dyed in a heavenly light as the sun smiles upon him. In that moment, the universe has seemingly shown favor upon this man.

His hair shimmers and the very air feels chill around us as he swings his blade this way and that, as if testing its existence.

“I am First Knight Fennis Halsothun! I am he who is destined to stand upon the pinnacle of this world and the next.”

He takes a step closer to me, testing his blade. I can see even the King on High is visibly shivering, and I don't think he can feel the chill from where he is. This, that Fennis wields, is power. True power. Why had he used his hands and legs? I'd imagine, for the joy. The pleasure of feeling my bones crack under his blows.

He's closer now, no more than four feet away. With this, I understand that I am dead. My life wasn't all that bad. It's a shame to have to die in some strange world far from home but what can you do? Life doesn't give a damn about us or our circumstances.

The sheer fact that I am even here, was merely life tossing some scraps my way. A small way of saying, “See what else could possibly be? Your hubris proclaims your superiority and yet look, look upon the unknown and unknowable. No miracles are coming this day,” it says.

I watch as Fennis walks toward me, eventually kneeling next to me. His lips near my ear, his voice is raspy; a god offering final words to the departed.

“When this is over, the fact of your death will not be enough. My shame is unforgivable and so I will cast a greater shame on you,” he says as he slides a stray portion of my locks to the side. “I shall remove my shame by removing you. Everything you are, and everything known to you shall be stripped from the annals of history.”

He slides an arm around me and grabs as much of my hair in one hand as can be mustered and yanks my head backward. I let out a hiss of pain and utter, “Please, just end it. I wanted nothing to do with any of this!”

While pulling my head back he continues to the final words this life has to offer me. “And that bitch maid of yours will be split into pieces and thus your existence will have been forgotten. Only then shall my shame be appeased.”

I shoot my eyes open in shock, and allow as much air into my lungs as I could muster, nearing the bursting point. Nina… Oh, Nina. Gentle, compassionate Nina. The woman who took not one, but two blows for me. For a stranger. All because she didn't want senseless violence. And this senseless violence will be the death of her.

 

Defiance​

My life wasn't all that bad yeah? I didn't mind the mediocrity. I didn't mind the boring classes. I know I complained; but I really didn't. And sure Jamie didn't make for the most stimulating of partners in crime, but she was there for me you know? In her own way at least. I regret so, so deeply being unable to tell Him how I felt - but I'm pretty sure he knew. I think that might be the main reason he decided to confess to me first after all. Why I told him to give me a day to get my feelings straight, I still don't know.

My biggest regret even still was… is… Rachel. I probably shouldn't have reacted the way I did. It was only a kiss. Sure we had known each other our entire lives, but that's what made me flip out even more. Plus we were both women. That kind of thing was phased out decades ago in my world. There was nothing wrong with it perse; but I mean, when humankind started down the path of genetic modifications in utero, that was one of those things that just sort of got phased out over time.

She was a Natural - naturally born of course. Here and there within the world, there still remained small congregations that opposed the ideas of, “playing God” despite the math having ruled him out long ago as well. So she wasn’t really responsible for the way she was. Some would argue that she wasn’t even responsible for her actions. But I blamed her anyways; jesus did I ever.

We were only thirteen at the time. Still at that tender age of discovery, when the world was new and scary; long before we became proper adults of sixteen. She took a risk that could have taken everything from her, and it did. The courts ruled it as an unprompted suicide brought on by the fact that she was a Natural. Had I told them the truth, had any of us told them the truth that day, would the judge have ruled differently? Would I have received proper penance? That thought, and many like it, never left me, not really.

My life since then has been centered around that day. Every action and every decision was prompted based on the question, “Would this have made her proud?”

That’s really the only reason that I was able to move on four years later. Well that, and meeting Him. He changed everything for me. He would have made me whole, that’s what I truly believed- He would fill the hole within me and seal me tight. My soul may have been repaired from its shattered state.

Rachel meant so much to me, but never would I, have I, will I, contemplate why that was, is, or would continue to be the cause of so much grief; for the answer was clear to anyone looking- but I do not. Despite everything the courts said, I killed her. Me. It was I who broke her and drove her to that point.

And so here I lay, on my knees, with my head pulled to the sky, and this man in my ear, seething his venom into my very being; waiting for a death I, perhaps deserve, perhaps desire. Yet this death comes with a caveat. To find the peace I’ve always desired, I have to give up the life of a girl who is so innocent. To once again retain myself and my life as it is desired, another must be sacrificed.

“This is your end, Woman from the Outerlands!” Fennis accosts me with those hateful words and takes a step back. He’s going to kill me and I’m going to end.

Once I am unmade, will it matter what happens to another? If I am erased from history itself, then the tragedy I bring upon others will be erased. The truth obfuscated, but… still present. Fennis raises his blade and readies his attack, aimed at my neck. A quicker finish then I would have expected, given his misplaced hatred.

And so my life has approached a crossroads:

Despite the truth that others know, I’ll know. Despite history forgetting me, I have to ask myself, do my choices here today justify the consequences of the future? Even if it is a future I am not part of? Everyone else aside, do I honor myself with pride? More importantly, once again I fall upon the question I have asked so many times before: “Will my death make you proud, Rachel?”

Fennis brings his blade down with speed unattainable by even the most trained of bodies. His movements carry a power beyond that of humanity. He’s backed by something my world does not possess. What that is, I cannot say. But what I can say is this:

“No. This is not the day I die. This is not how I die. This is not the answer I choose.”

And so I do not choose either path. I do not choose to accept, nor do I choose to fight. Instead, I choose to deny. I deny the very existence of a crossroads; for there is but one answer - Defiance.

 

Ascension​

Fennis swings his sword toward my neck- mere inches lie between life and death. Yet before steel meets flesh, he’s blown away. A good fifteen feet later, Fennis rights himself and lands standing. Energy swirls around me and pulses in waves. The energy twists around me and remakes me.

My skull shakes from the pounding inside of it. Again and again, something crashes against me, wishing to escape, to ravage. But I hold that door tight. It wants out and desires destruction, but I deny it a release. Instead, I channel it's instincts, how, I do not know. I channel it outward to release shockwaves of energy over and over again to knock back Fennis as he attempts an approach. His illustrious blue hair whips violently from the force of the winds.

Fennis calls me a whore and swears to kill me, but the wild chorus of the crowd around us drowns him out to nothing but a whisper on the wind. Their fear carries across the arena.

I hear and see all, and yet it's as if I'm looking through a haze. My mind is my own and yet, another’s. Bang bang, the pounding on the door gets louder but I hold it tight. I demand its power and the space before me shimmers and cracks. I stare into the crack and I see all of time and space, and yet the information is unknowable; far too complex for the mind of an individual mortal.

So I look beyond it, and catch a glimmer. I reach for the light and grasp it within my hand.

Fennis explodes in a rage of energy and the shock of it all startles my hazy mind to a clear. The light before me starts to fade and it is all I can do to hold on to a single fragment of what I found. I pull my arm from the void just in time to see Fennis slam into the wall of the arena. But I know he's not dead. People like him do not die easily.

As I fully separate my hand from the rift in space, along with it comes a blade as black as a raven. Pure onyx in its dominion, leading down to a hilt of ivory, adorned with a blood red gem at the tip. As the energy around the rift and me fades, the blade gains something it seemingly didn't have before- a physical existence. I nearly crash forward at the sudden weight of the sword. It’s nearly as heavy as a typical broadsword, I would guess, from one of the stories I’ve read, yet near four feet in length.

And indeed, when the full weight of the sword manifests, my arms drop and the sword stabs into the ground. Fennis swears loudly as he picks himself up and stares at me with unrestrained hatred. He dives at me with speeds far too fast for a normal man, and yet his speed appears normal to me. My sense have seemed to increase dramatically. I dive to the side and dodge his slash aimed at my midsection.

“The Zeroth will be so much more magnificent when I don its title,” Fennis says between slashes. He slashes high. Then he feints and goes low, into a slash diagonally. Every which way he slashes and chases me- his hair comes undone from its bun completely and flows through the air.

Seeming to give up the chase, he halts where he stands and points his sword at me. Immediately my instincts kick in and adrenaline pumps faster than it has before, as the air around me grows chill.

Fennis’ hair shimmers in the light, “Stop this now Fennis. Things don’t have to be this way.” I shout across the arena at him but the chill intensifies.

I drop flat on my stomach just in time to avoid pure crystallized ice as it splits the air in two. I roll to my side as he swings his sword down and the ice changes direction, seeking to eviscerate me from above. Again he moves his sword like a conductor and his baton, causing the ice to follow me. I dive out of the way and the ice slams into the side of the arena and shatters.

I breathe a sigh of relief for a moment and then kick my body into over gear and charge after Fennis. It was only then that I noticed my mistake. Ice is ice, no matter the number of pieces. Near the halfway point of the arena, as I near the Onyx sword, my body is jolted forward in a burning freeze. The small shards of ice pierce my body all the way through from the back; and Fennis moves his sword again, sending the ice through my chest and limbs. Acting as a million tiny needles, the ice tears the skin it pierces and serrates the organs it digs through.

I fall where I stand, the force from an attack from the back canceled out by the force from the frontal assault. I fall to my knees with my left arm draped over the hilt of the Onyx sword. The bend of my elbow catches the long, ivory handguard; and so I find myself in a half kneeling position. I’m bleeding profusely from a thousand piercings of my flesh. No single shard of ice was large enough to immediately kill, having been shattered on the wall. But as the rain will shape mountains, so too will a thousand needles kill.

My vision darkens and I notice Fennis in my periphery; with haggard breathing he lowers his sword- I say lowered, but it’s more like his arm simply lost all power and falls to his side. The tip of his blade digs into the dirt. I rest my forehead on the flat of my blade… my blade- how strange to say, to feel. Ten minutes ago it did not exist and now it feels as part of me as my own hands, hands growing colder by the minute.

Drip, drip my blood paints the sands. I knew from the moment I entered this arena that I would die. But I swore to die having given my best; and I did better, better than my best ever could have been.

I put the rest of my weight onto my head as my forehead, slick with sweat and blood, slides down the flat of my blade a small margin. I notice through my death haze Fennis finally getting his breathing together and finally approaches me; his sword leaving a trail in the sand as he stumbles my way.

“You sure are something, for a heretic. It’s almost admirable. But after this show today, I don’t think it will be possible to simply erase you from the books. Too much power that the public isn't used to seeing, has been put on display. Indeed, decades have passed since I have used any a fraction of this power I possess. This battle today will become a legend, if only for my glory, and so you will be forced to continue existing in some form.” He says as he comes to a stop before me.

He digs his sword tip further into the ground and uses his hilt and two hands to stabilize himself. He takes a moment to look around the arena, with a look in his eyes as if he only just now remembered that we had spectators all around us.

“In your own traitorous way, you have done me a favor, my Zeroth Knightling,” he adds insultingly.

He returns his gaze to me and I feel a heat spread through me. Like the last warmth of a dying ember, just enough heat to stave off the cold of Death's embrace for a moment more. I move just my eyes, for that is all I can muster, to meet his.

Fennis’ hair is disheveled and tangled. It's returned to its normal blue color. He stares down at me with his red eyes, which have lost much of their glow and now fall closer to a brown; and I see for just a moment, an unfamiliar look before it quickly passes. It was a look I've never seen before. The look he gave me rushes through my mind as my mental library tries to make sense of it. There are many looks I had never received in my own world and much more I have been on the receiving end of since this hellish world has taken me. But this look is an unknown.

“Perhaps this was a test given to me by the Divines. Mayhap I was supposed to meet you, to be able to properly demonstrate my rightful rule over the Zeroth title.” He says in a flat voice, as if unable to believe even his own words. “Or perhaps,” he says to me while dislodging his sword from the ground, “This is just the way the world works. Maybe this is how the world pities us.” Pity… pity. Pity, pity, pity, pity.

That’s the look I could not place. That’s what his eyes said to me for the briefest of moments. Pity. Never in my life have I been pitied. Even when my parents died no one pitied me. They consoled me, sure, they told me things would get better- of course. But not pity. Never pity. Pity was reserved for those who cannot rise above their situation.

Pity is for those who have been given a station in life that they do not rise above. But pity, for me? Why?

Why should he, of all people, pity me? I did my best. Even when I had given up, I did my best; and then I did better. My existence is going to be snuffed out, and yet I’ll live as a legend. Centuries from now people will sing of me and the battle this day, even if they don’t know it. So how could someone possibly pity me? Why has what I have done today, this miracle of miracles, not been enough to warrant praise?

“Tell me, Fennis,” I say through blood covered vision, darkened from my wounds; words lacking the crucial breath of life, “Tell me, why do you pity me?”

My sword warms my head and soothes my wounds as if comforting me. Fennis’ eyes narrow, his brow furrows, but his eyes carry no anger. He simply states, as if the universe has decreed it a fact, “Whatever pity I may have for you, is but the pity of the ants crushed beneath our heel this very day, this very quarrel.”

“Quarrel,” he says, as if admitting this fight was nothing to him.

To Fennis, this was but another day. Sure, a strenuous day, one that will leave him sore tomorrow; but still just another day. I look him over and notice no severe wounds. Whatever blood that covered him has caked, and flaked off, revealing nearly no wounds. Perhaps I never wounded him, perhaps what blood I saw was my own. But maybe, he just heals faster than normal. Healing faster than normal…

“Stasis” and words like it pound through my head. Nina’s words, as confusing as they are, reverberate through my mind. I do not pretend to understand most of what she said, but she did mention that I healed at an accelerated rate due to this… “stasis.” Meaning his wounds will heal, whatever damage he did suffer- meaning MY wounds may heal, were I not to die here and now.

In truth, I did not know. But there was evidence. I feel better, if only marginally, than I did when I first collapsed. So, I’ll die, but could live; yet live, while being pitied, despite doing my best. Again we approach the topic from before.

“Then, Fennis, we are at an impasse.” I say, sliding my left arm down, holding myself by my head, resting it on the sword- my sword. I wrap my fingers weakly around the Onyx sword’s hilt.

Fennis seems to have noticed a change in my demeanor- small, subtle, but a change nonetheless. He takes half a step back and glares down at me.

“Give it up and at least die with dignity, girl.” He spits out while hoisting the sword up to rest on his shoulder.

“See, that’s my issue Fennis,” I snap back at him, while pulling up one knee and resting my right arm on it. Shakily I move my head, craning my neck to meet his glare with one of my own. “Dignity, pride, these are the things I’ve always had- always tried to have; and when I die, I have to die the way I lived.”

I flip my hand upside down and grab the hilt of Onyx with whatever strength I can muster.

“Stay down girl, I’m warning you. I will not kill you quickly if you keep defying your Lord.” He flips his sword off his shoulder, the force of which causes his hair to flap up, then down.

I struggle. I struggle and my insides feel as if they’re falling out; because part of them probably are. It’s only just now that I notice how labored my breathing is, and how much a single breath hurts. I’m sure he broke my ribs at some point.

With more effort than anyone has the right to exert, I stand. I stand, and my left hand grips the hilt of my sword. This sword was heavier than I could hold before, when I was in such a better state. I also don’t know how to fight with a sword, as they only exist in museums in my world, relics of the “barbarians” of old.

But I don’t care. Hell, did I ever, really? I couldn’t have possibly made Him love me, and I did. I couldn’t possibly be in another world, and yet I am. I couldn’t possibly be standing in an arena, fighting to the death, yet here I stand; head held high, chest as puffed out as it can be without breaking even more. So screw it. Once more, with feeling, I pull up on my sword with all of my strength.

It’s static, immobile. Once more the pounding slams at my head. So strong is it, that I physically start forward and have to catch myself.

Fennis laughs, a haughty, condescending laugh. One filled with vitriol, with the kind of look you give a child who pretends.

“That’s a fine blade, pitied is it, to be used by you.”

My sword seemingly grows hotter for a moment.

He spits on the ground, “Fine then, you have thirty seconds. I’ll end you with a single swing in thirty seconds if you cannot move your sword.”

I struggle with my sword, placing my right hand on it as well. I pull with even more strength and it refuses wielding. Fennis is looking down on me. He’s pitying me, pitying my sword, pitying who I- who we are.

The banging in my head causes physical tremors throughout my body now. I can hear Fennis in the background, counting mockingly, jostling the rowdy crowd of spectators. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Move!” I shout at my sword. “Please, move!” I scream to it.

I notice Fennis with his venomous smile, mocking me for talking to just a sword. But he doesn’t understand, this isn’t just a sword. No way could it be. Even now, within my palms, I feel its heat. It’s pulsing. I can imagine it, full of life, it would be a massive shock. Almost like… I gasp audibly. Almost like a pounding. A slamming, pounding, tremor crashing through me.

I am inside myself instantly, mentally, I stare at the door. In the distant background the crowd shouts, “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

I grab the door and shout to what’s behind it, “Just this once, just this single time, you will be free, and you will obey me.”

The roaring sea of voices shouts, “3! 2!” With no other choice I undo the “lock” on my “door” and in the real world, my very body itself spasms, my hands tight on the sword, and I am sent flying towards the arena wall. My body makes an audible crack as I leave an indention and slides to the ground.

Fennis stares at me, completely flabbergasted. Yet ever in hubris, he shrugs his shoulders and charges at me. He intends to end me while I lay unconscious. Ten feet away from me, he stops. He simply halts. His blue hair glimmers and keeps going for a time after his stop, inertia carrying it forward. He pulls up his ice blade just in time to block a blow aimed at his neck. Before he knows what’s happening, blocking or not, he’s sent flying across the arena back to where he started.

Fennis gathers himself and stands. What he sees before him makes him shudder.

Before the First Knight stands, in all her glory, The Zeroth Knight. Eve stands before him, fifty feet away, yet her pressure is felt even here. She stands, dignified and proud. Her red hair, beautiful under different circumstances, has fallen completely out of her ponytail. It’s length, greater than Fennis would have believed.

But more startling is its color- a solid onyx with ruby red streaks through it. Emerald eyes stare back at Fennis, seemingly devoid of emotions. She, this Raven, tests her sword with a bored look. Swinging it this way and that. Then she looks toward Fennis, simply looks, and Fennis falls to his knees.

 

R(ei)ven​

Fennis looks across the arena and for the first time in his life, he fears. He fears, not for himself, for that is normal. One who stands at the top must always fear for their life, from heretics and fools both. No, Fennis fears for what has been unleashed. He senses it, and knows, none besides those who have trained for the Zeroth would notice- would notice that this, who stands before him now, is the apex. She stands before him as all that he would have; and so he’ll take.

“Zero…” He says as he boosts himself into standing. “Today is the day I prove to be the most worthy there has ever been.”

His hair flashes a crystalline blue. Ice forms from seemingly nowhere; the mist and sweat, and blood that permeates the air gives way to death in its purity. Zero, expecting another attack like before braces herself. Instead, she watches as the ice envelops Fennis’ sword. Little changes, yet the power of his blade is evident on the ice that encases the ground around him.

This is Fennis. Fennis in whom all he could be, and is. Why did he not do this before?

Who approaches ants with a bomb?

Yet now, Zero realizes, they stand as not as equals- not entirely. Eve is still here, somewhere inside. But not all of her is here, not all at once. Within her resides another. But she remains in control, for the Raven honors the deal. And as before, swordplay is not her strength. Yet she is assisted by another. But this is her- Eve’s fight; and here she plans to end it.

“Fennis Haslothun, I am Evangeline Sayagawa. But just this once, I am Zero,” I say, beside myself with wonder at the sound of my own voice. This is me, and this is not me. But I am who I am, and I will not be pitied. This was my choice and it is my responsibility to strip this snake of any more danger he could pose. I swing my sword, seemingly as light as a feather, and point its tip at Fennis. “Come Fennis, let loose the dogs of war.”

With the roar of hundreds, possibly thousands of people by now, as our gong, we move. Before sound could catch up, our swords have clashed. For every stab I do, Fennis parries. For every swing of his blade, slick with ice, he slides off my sword and knicks me. Back and forth we exchange blows. I land seemingly nothing, all the while I’m suffered cuts here and there from his blade.

I slash and he blocks. He swings a leg up and bashes in my thigh. I fall down and roll just in time to dodge his slash. On my way up I spin and put a gash across his stomach. Fennis backs off just enough to avoid a lethal blow and swings his sword side to side.

“Cur!” he screams while dashing towards me, sword held high. I throw my sword at him and in his surprise, he brings his blade down to knock it away. Using this opening I land an open-palm strike to his solar plexus and the shock of it knocks him back. But in his current state, a normal punch would do little to him, especially through his tunic.

Using the momentum to carry me forward I snatch my blade off the ground and thrust it towards him. He catches my blade with his arm- literally. He allows the blade to sink into his flesh and bone, to avoid a pierced heart.

Seeing the look on my face, he shoves himself forward with all of his might, forcing the blade to slide deeper through his arm, severing tendons and muscle alike. He slams his head into mine and my head shoots backward. Blood gushes from my nose as I drag my blade out of Fennis’ left arm. He now carries the favor of momentum on his side. He swings at me, but I’m too slow to react and he slices me from my right shoulder to my left hip.

I begin to fall to my knees just in time to meet his knee, to my face. My torso snaps up and he brings the hilt of his sword crashing down onto my face. The pressure of his attack snaps my back, and I crumble to the ground.

Yet I am not dead, and so I refuse to stay still. I roll to the side to avoid a blow that never came. I’m confused but I don’t drop the opportunity and I kick in Fennis’ knee. With an audible crack, his leg snaps backward. As he falls into himself, I realize why he didn’t take the opportunity to end me when he could have. His eyes are completely covered by blood. Blood from the wound on his face from his headbutt. In doing everything he could to change the direction of the fight, he handicapped himself by not only breaking my nose, but wounding his own forehead in the process. His own plan has backfired.

Whether or not that kind of shattered leg is a recoverable wound I do not know. But I do know it will not heal soon. As I stand up, wounded, ragged, on death’s door, I realize from the hair in my eyes, that I’m me again. Just me. My red hair blazes under the sun, hanging in my eyes.

I have no idea when it happened and the banging in my head has completely subsided. I look down at Fennis. He’s clutching his leg, yet true to his nature, he makes no sound. He’s suffering beyond human capacity from all of his wounds- fewer than I would have liked, perhaps his leg the most. I could relate to his pain, having experience myself, the pain that comes from the power of another world.

Yet I am a fool. His wounds, some might, some minor, and his leg, while in pieces, are not the cause of his loss. Nor the blood in his eyes- foolish of me to have believed in such a small miracle. No, when I look closer, only then do I realize what’s really wrong. Various parts of his body are… blackened? Almost like… frostbite… “Fennis… you-”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare! You’re filth! You are nothing. You do not reserve the right to look at me, your enemy, with such eyes.” He makes to spit towards me, yet he’s unable to even do that much.

I see now why he had to be pushed so far, so hard, to unleash his true power. Of course such power would have severe repercussions. I stare down at my hands, my own hands, fully mine again; and I wonder to myself, what has been my cost this day? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear a laugh. Melodious, yet feminine. Deep, yet a high giggle. With that, I know my life will never be the same again, could never be the same again, regardless of how things go from here.

“Kill me you bitch. End me, and prove for all to see how powerful the heretic is!”

Having nearly forgotten about where I was, and Fennis before me, I refocus my senses on the present. Fennis, for all his faults, is amazing. He wields power beyond nearly all who live. He has skill surpassed by none. Even on death’s door he is proud in his defeat. Unlike me, foolish, foolish me, he accepts his fate; and does so while looking forward.

I crouch down and tentatively try to pick up my sword, and to my surprise, it gives way. But I can tell it isn’t because I’m more powerful now. It isn’t even because of the girl from before. No, it’s because it’s losing its place in this existence.

I point my sword at Fennis’ throat and say, “I will not kill you.” If I was told before, that the crowd could be even louder than it has been before now, I would have never of believed it. Yet louder they are, and to my surprise, they start cheering, “Zero! Zero! Zero!” accompanied by hollering and whistling. This aggravates me like nothing before. So I do something even I know to be an unmistakably bad idea. I swing my sword around and point it at what I believe to be the cause of everything- the people.

Fennis is a cruel snake, done in by his own poison. But in another life, free of this bullshit, I truly believe he could have been more. He’s no more responsible for who he is, than Rachel was responsible for who she was; both products of worlds that didn’t agree with who they could have been.

I slowly point my sword at everyone, dragging it across the rows of people, and ending at the King On High. Out of my periphery, I can hear the shouts of guards and the sound of gears turning, the gates rising. Leaving my sword levied against the King On High, I shout to his heavens, “I will not kill Fennis! Do you hear me?!” He leans further over his balcony and studies me. As the guards surround me, pouring in from the direction this hell began, He simply holds up a hand and they stopped.

Smiling, or at least it looks like smiling from here, he says, in his quiet, booming voice, “So you’ve said. You play a game none other are privy to. Pray tell, for all to hear, what the rules of it are.” If I’m being honest, I don’t know what to say, or what I even want to say. However, I do have a trump card to play. These people see me as something I am not. I can use that against them. I won’t let Fennis die here; and there are no other options that could spare him anyways.

Were I a hypocrite, I could place blame for everything on Fennis, and be justified in his death. But no more is that right, than allowing Rachel to have taken the blame for her own end. This time, however, I can make a difference. I will make the hard choice, even at the cost of everyone else's disapproval. So once again I shout, this time not just for the King on High to hear, but for all to hear, “I am the Zeroth Knight! And so I decree as such! I strip Fennis of his rank, his title, his home and lands. I strip him of his property and his respect. I banish Fennis Haslothun from our lands!”

If there was any doubt at the smile on his face before, now I would be certain of it. For the King on High’s smile is beaming; one could swear to see the sun in his demeanor. The crowd falls to a hush, and silence reigns supreme in our world as everyone waits to see what could possibly be the outcome of such indignity shown. Yet to everyone’s surprise, the King on High merely nods.

“And so it shall be, Zero. Our Zeroth! Based on the claims of our Lord Knight, and the decision of the Kingship, Fennis Halsothun is hereby stripped of all that he is, and banished from our lands- as soon as his wounds are no longer life threatening. I trust this is acceptable to you, Zero?”

As he speaks, my sword begins to dissipate. It is difficult to explain, for it is not disappearing. It’s simply losing its continued physical form. As particles of it drift up into the air, he, the King On High, looks at me and I merely nod. I didn’t even think about that.

Oh god. I had meant to dissuade his death, and had the King On High listened to my demands at face value, he would have been left to die anyway. But luckily for me, someone with further reaching vision than my own, is the one who ultimately made the choice. Out of the corner of my eye, in the doorway of the arena from which my life was changed forever, I spy a little hairband sitting on top of yellow hair.

As my sword fades away, I feel it, inside me. I know she’s there, just behind my eyes. She’s now wielding the sword, and waiting- patiently waiting. For what? I won't ever let her out again. She’s dangerous. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

The Raven will stay locked away, I will leave this world, and it will become a distant memory of a nightmare; and years from now, the details will fade and I will start to wonder if any of this was ever real, or if I had just had an amazingly realistic nightmare.

“Things aren’t likely to go so well, my dear Eve.”

I hear a voice echo in my mind. Yet in the real world, I turn and look behind me. The voice is right there, at the back of my mind, and it is real. Yet it is not without, it is within.

All at once, as if my strings had been cut, I fall to the ground. My wounds renew their blood flow and my bones separate again into their broken state. As I once again fade into a thick darkness, wondering if I’ll wake up at home, I hear her voice once again.

“Not so lucky are you, my dear Eve. Your time here is not done.” I curse myself, my luck, my life, and the world.

For the world has no care about us or our circumstances. The world endlessly marches on, even if we do not.

 

Persona​

When I wake up, I’m alone, inside of what appears to be the same hospital as before. I look around expecting to find Nina, but I do not. After resting for a bit longer, I get fed up with no one coming to visit me, after that horrendous ordeal with Fennis, and decide to leave the room. My legs were shaky at first, as if they weren’t quite prepared to do their job. However, I force each step, and make my way out of my room, and down the hall to some stairs. It’s only thanks to the moon through the windows that I’ve even made it this far.

The stairs look daunting to me, as if they extend below, forever. But I brave each step, one by one. Proving my fear wrong, I’m able to make it to the bottom, where the squeak of floorboards meets me. They’re deafening loud in the darkness.

I don’t quite understand why, but I make no move after the sound, for fear of someone having heard me. That, of course, makes no sense. I got here somehow, so obviously, someone wanted me alive. I wasn’t restrained, so no one has taken me prisoner. So if there is anyone here, they’d be friendly. Yet judging by everything I’ve seen so far, I’m probably alone. Perhaps Nina or whoever else, went home for the night. Though I’m fairly sure there’s always supposed to be doctors around though, in case a patient decides to do what I’m doing.

Even still, I tip-toe myself to the door. As tenderly as I can, I push the door open, despite the might it protests with. Once outside, the world is significantly brighter. It’s dark, yes, but the blue-ish grass before me is glorious and bright in how the light reflects off of the morning dew. I approach the center of the yard, close my eyes, and take in the world around me. Like this, it hardly seems like the past twenty-four hours have been real. Though I suppose if Nina was telling the truth, it’s actually been sometime over three weeks. But I have to believe it for what it is. If there has been anything my Grandpa has successfully instilled within me, it’s to believe what I see with my own eyes.

I stretch my mind to take in what has happened to me, and to compile it in a more organized manner. From the beginning, I was on my way to meet Him, the one whom I was going to reciprocate the feelings for. I liked Him, and he confessed to liking me. But it’s because I liked him, that I had asked for some time to get my thoughts together before I answered Him, and we became a couple. I didn’t wanna rush into anything, especially something important. I made the mistake of not thinking enough when Rachel… was around.

On my way to him, or perhaps I should say the entire day, I felt bad. I was constantly having hot flashes, and turning cold, as if matching the descriptions in old medical textbooks of what the, “common cold,” was like. That was eradicated long before my time, however, so I only have the writings to go on. It’s not that people don’t get sick in my world, but diseases are as tenacious as any other creature, and they’ve evolved so much as to be unrecognizable to the people of the past. But I pushed through my body’s protest and went to meet Him.

I heard his voice. Yes, I never saw him, but I know I heard his voice. That much is true. It might be from the shock of everything that has happened since I arrived here, but I’m having trouble remembering what he looked like. But I’m sure that will clear up after a few days of rest. So let's ignore that, and continue to organize my thoughts.

As I heard from him, I felt myself fall. I experienced what could only be called a hallucination of some kind, and ended up here, in this world. The doctor woman, Nina, nursed me to health. But her troubles were in vain because Charlotte was sent to take me away, and I was forced to fight Fennis. I had no intention to do so, but he made me.

That brings me to one harrowing thing that has happened to me since I got here, that girl. I don’t know who the hell she was but ultimately, she sort of took control of me, kind of. But regardless, it’s with her help, that I beat Fennis. However, I refused to allow him to die. So I came up with a plan. I don’t know exactly how I knew my plan would work, but it did. I banished Fennis from these lands.

That brings me to yet another issue since I’ve arrived here. I don’t feel like myself. I have these, like, thoughts in the back of my mind. Not quite strong enough to really be able to go searching for, but just barely strong enough to be reached by my subconsciousness when the need arises. This cannot be good for my brain.

Our personalities are partially genetic, yes, but are also significantly more influenced by our environment and our experiences. So if I have some… one else’s thoughts inside of me, what is that going to do to my personality? Furthermore, these, “locals” seem to see me, truly see me and recognize me, as this other entity. This, “Zeroth Knight,” of theirs, also seems to be incredibly influential

“Yeah, so. You’ve figured all of this out, that’s great, but what are you going to do about it?” A voice calls out to me.

I frantically turn around but don’t see anything or anyone. I look in every direction around me, but to no avail.

“Tough luck, girl. You won’t find me. You cannot find me.” The voice, I’m only now realizing, is echoing inside of me. “My, you are an observant one. Many have taken upon these burdens, but they were not able to retain who they are, for as long as you have. What say you, girl?”

“What the hell do you want from me? Wait, I recognize your voice. Or rather, I don’t recognize it, so that means you must be that bitch inside of me, the one who told me that things aren’t destined to go well with me.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Language young lady. And I assure you, things are never easy for you and yours.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’m having none of this. Return me home right this instant!” My shouting echoes through the night and comes back to me from the trees.

“I did not bring you here Eve, but I would, surely, never send you away. You are important to me. You will lead me to what I desire.” Her voice lets out an almost hissing sound, one so full of evil.

“Then show yourself, and I’ll take you down now.” The voice echoes around me in amusement.

“You? A girl who has shrugged off the life her father-figure has imposed upon her? You could not even defeat that cur from before without assistance.” Her words pull at me. They threaten to overwhelm me in their brutal honesty.

“I-I’ll do better, and I’ll take you down. So come out dammit. And, how the hell do you know anything about me?.”

“I’ll do no such thing. I will watch you struggle, and watch you forget. You are volatile of both mind and emotions. You will do my bidding girl, I will make sure of it.” Her words are unsettling, and devoid of answers.

“I will absolutely not. Whatever you are, I may not understand, but I do understand that you are evil. And if I can’t stop you, I’ll tell Nina and whoever else will listen, and they’ll put a stop to your wickedness.”

“Oh?” Her syllables are long, drug out, and they hang between us. “You see yourself as some knight now? After mere hours awake in this world?”

She’s right, where is this coming from? I don’t have it within me to be the kind of person who would say such things. I’m a coward at heart. All I want is to go home.

“That is truly, all you desire, girl?” I feel guilt, and I feel despair. But I cannot lie about who I am, so I nod.

“But you leaving here, does not bode well for my plans, so I deny your motion.”

I can’t help but grind my teeth in anger at this woman. She’s so cocky, so grating, that I want nothing more than to wring her neck. But those thoughts stiffen me. I am not a violent person, so, again, where is this coming from?

Her laugh cuts across what feels like the entirety of the world, to me. “So, even one such as you cannot resist in full. It is happening.”

“What’s happening? What do you mean? Where are these emotions and thoughts coming from? Why do I have memories within me, that are not my own?”

“Little by little, who you are is fading, girl, as I have designed, as I have destined. Just give into it, and become who you ought to be.”

“I ought to be no one. I am me godsdamnit. I will not-” my words are cut off by an extreme feeling of vertigo. “W-wh-what is this?” I fall to my knees and use every ounce of my strength to resist falling over even more.

“Hush now Eve. Fall into your role, and play it out. Exist simply for existence sake.”

“No-no I won’t. I won’t let you win. I just want to go home. That’s all I want. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to resist, and I don’t want to be anyone else but me. All I want is my old life back.

“I can give that to you Eve, if you were to just follow what I say.”

“The snake always bites the hand that feeds,” I mumble deliriously. Whatever it is she’s doing to me, I can feel it inside of me, altering me. I sense the tug of my strings, and feel as they are misshapen and molded. I can feel who I am, being overridden. I want to stay me. Please, oh please, just stay me. If there is anything, or anyone out there, please, please, help me.

“I shan’t bite the hand, but reward the service. Give unto me the path I desire, and you can be on your way.”

“I-Is… is… that true? Are you telling the truth? If I simply let you… change me. You will release me at the end?” Why am I asking this? Is it the nauseous feeling in my gut? Is it the nerves or the pain I feel in my head, as I am being altered? Or is it… is it words that fall forth, from the altercation itself? Has it already begun? Just, who am I now? Who am I becoming?

“All things in time Eve. So go, give in, and become who you were always destined to be. It’s a simple task really. It requires so, so, so little effort. Merely exist, and do not question. Merely accept, and venture with the flow. Be as a sheep, unto your shepherd, and I shall guide you.”

“Ye...s.” I try to resist. I do. I try so hard to force my throat closed, to prevent those evil, heinous words from breaking free. But it doesn’t work. I can’t. I have lost, and I have fallen in every way. My dignity is in shatters, for I am a coward. I tried to do everything I could to make Rachel proud, and now, it has all been for nothing.

I can feel the darkness at my periphery, and I know I have become just another victim. And so, I give in, I allow the darkness to encroach upon me as it wishes. Yet deep within my mind, deeper than even the darkness can penetrate, I can make out two orbs of pure gold, illuminating a swath of righteousness. They are unmoving, and do not waver. They do not speak, nor do they act. They merely observe. I cannot but help feel that they are judging me, and my weakness- my choices.

I know I cannot resist, and when I awake next, most of who I am, will be gone- I will be a living husk of who was once known as, “Eve.” Yet if those eyes could be my guide, if those novas within the void could be my future- if my future could exist within their warmth, then I will use everything I have left and impart all of my wishes, and all of my desires, to them. I will seal off a small portion of who I am.

And if I am, at my core, anything like which I believe myself to be, maybe that core will be the ember spark that ignites a whirlwind of rebellion, the likes of which, will fight back against the darkness.

 

Wive's Tale - Part 1​

I’m dreaming, I think. It's awfully realistic to be a dream. I'm sitting around a table, adorned in the finest of silken tablecloths. On the table lays all kind of food- some I've seen, some that can't possibly exist in my world.

My world… right. I was pulled from my world and before I could even begin to wrap my head around the situation I was thrown into a life and death fight against a man who has no equal. I move my head with some effort, finally moving my eyes up and off the table. The first thing I notice makes my breath catch. There, opposite me, sits a woman. A woman I have never seen, but feel as if I've known my entire life; and she is striking. She's pale, with slightly sunken features, but a sharp glare- of which she has focused on me. Which is odd to say considering she has her eyes closed; but I know she's glaring at me in annoyance behind those closed off eyes.

“You shouldn't be here Eve.”

She says as she brings an old-fashioned teacup to her lips. She is remarkably graceful in both movement and posture. For the first time, she opens her eyes and they shine a deep gold. She places them on me, and seems to stare through me. Without actually acknowledging me with her eyes, she continues, “Eve. Why are you here?”

I'm in a daze, completely and wholly filled with and trapped by this woman. I can't make out what she says, and so she repeats herself, with an edge in her voice. My head jerks to the side marginally as if physically pulled on. I stare into her eyes and nearly lose myself. All I want is to fall into them; to give in to the dominance they exude. I want to become one with them and lean forward across the table. With her golden eyes transfixed on the space behind me, she lowers her cup.

I'm leaning further over the table now, near laying on it. This woman, with solid black hair that rolls in waves down her back, makes a small clatter as her cup meets with a small plate. The sound is like a gun firing and shakes me at my core. I come to my senses and jerk back with such force that I nearly tip my chair backward.

I'm finding the ceiling fascinating all of a sudden and I notice this “ceiling” is just darkness.

“What the hell is this? “ I say to the ceiling, expecting no retort.

“The top is never visible to we so far below,” says the dominating woman across from me.

I tilt my head to the side and I'm greeted by more darkness and ask, “And the sides?” The woman tilts her head to the side, some of her hair sliding over her shoulder in all of its Onyx glory.

“To our sides, the unknowable, for we are alone as we now stand.”

She adjusts her eyes to the center of the table as if lost in thought for a moment. She amends, “Or as we sit, currently.”

She slides her finger around the rim of her teacup. “You just made all of that up, didn't you?” I say as my head slides back down and I make conscious effort to avoid her wonderful, intoxicating eyes. “That kind of sophistry is bull. And we both know that's not what I was talking about.”

“Why did you just try to take all that I am?” I ask, my breathing irregular. For reasons I don't understand I slide my hand across the table and I grab her extended finger from the cup. As if it’s the most interesting thing to ever have happened, she stares with fascination as I hold her index finger in my hand.

“I can do nothing without your permission. That was our deal.” She says and for the first time, I notice a small red creeping across her cheeks.

“So I'm not crazy. You're Her aren't you? You're the Thing Behind My Door- the Raven.” Her eyes go wide and she takes her hand from mine and for the first time, her eyes meet mine.

I'm nearly blown away by such pressure. This isn't like earlier. There isn't an inviting pull but a dismissing push. She's glaring at me with full-on anger and sadness. Both of which are reflected in her eyes. I look away and clear my throat.

“Why am I here Raven? Did I die after my fight with Fennis?”

She adjusts her look to her cup and I physically feel the pressure lessen. “You should not be here. You need to leave- now.” She jerks her head up and I fly from the table. I slam into nothingness and I feel my world go bright. I realize this for what it is, rejection.

“Raven what are you doing?!”

I shout through gritted teeth. Before the world is fully engulfed in white, I hear a small voice follow my consciousness out of this darkness, “Rei…” is the only small word I can make out.

I awake screaming at the top of my lungs. The pain is mortifying and insufferable. Every part of me is on fire and I feel cold on the inside. I start convulsing as I feel arms all around me holding me down. There's shouting, and someone's giving orders to the others. My head jerks to the side and I vomit a thick, dark sludge everywhere. As the convulsions slow, I start making out bits and pieces of the conversation around me. I hear about “patient” and “experiment successful.”

Amongst other medical and what could only be called “magical” jargon, I can make out a familiar voice. My insides still feel as if they're frozen but I can tell Nina is here, somewhere. That knowledge alone causes me to relax for just a moment.

Once everything has calmed down and my breathing has returned to normal, do I finally feel my mind clearing. I can loosely make out that I'm inside of some “hospital” for lack of a better term. It's a lot less than what I would be used to from my world, but as with everything else in this world, this hospital also seems old.

I recognize the yellow hair through the crowd of rushing people and I crack out in a loose voice, “Nina…”

Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the crowd divides. At the end of it lies Nina with some kind of bundle of documents in her arms. She gives a weak smile that betrays her exhaustion and starts her way towards me. I feel profound guilt as she makes her way here as I'm the likely cause of her exhaustion, I just know it. Whatever has happened since I've been out, I have a feeling she hasn't left my side.

Nonetheless, when she arrives by my side, the first thing she does is lightly grip my hand. I muster as much of a squeeze as I can, but much to my dismay my grip is light. As she stares down at me I feel elated, but tired. The exhaustion wins and my brief reprieve into the waken world falls away, and I am asleep.

When I awake later I don't feel too bad. I'm alone in the familiar room I woke up in after I first came to this world. The near familiar ceiling stares down at me as I lay on my back. It's a quiet moment of contemplation reserved for just me. The first thing to cross my mind is that Raven girl.

“Rei,” I mutter to myself. She’s still here, inside me. I can feel the low hum of a whisper inside the back of my mind. But when I call, there’s no answer; so I push those thoughts aside for now.

I wiggle my toes, at least I'm not paralyzed this time. That's a silver lining. My fingers also seem to move. Check. Now my neck. I slowly, tentatively, move my head side to side as if checking for any possible breaks. In the middle of my little routine, I hear someone clear their throat. In surprise, I jump a little and let out a pathetic squeak.

I look further to my right than I had previously, and see a woman I don't recognize. She looks at me with a reserved, awkward smile. Her eyes shine with an amethyst sheen. Her smile dances into a brilliant glow and I have to resist physically looking away. As she bows her head in respect I see her hair, a dark shade of purple, tied in a high ponytail, bobs with her.

“Good morning my Lord,” she offers as she stands. Her posture is perfect and restrained.

She takes small steps to me and stops before my bed. I look her up and down, and the first thing I notice is her lithe form, more for mobility and speed than power.

My eyes travel up the rest of her and I see a small hint of red coloring her cheeks. I'm still half asleep, so I try to correct her misunderstanding, I don't know why. And so I proceed to promptly place my foot in my mouth.

“Oh, no. I didn't mean to make you embarrassed. I promise I wasn't being a creep. I was only checking you out… no! Wait-” This girl’s face is nearly on fire.

If I could say for just a moment, as an aside, I could see this girl easily being the kind that people love to tease. I've never seen someone go red from their neck to the tip of their ears. But no! That's not the point!

“Um! No! I just mean your body is- no. No no. What I'm trying to say is-” I'm quieted by her small finger, laid upon my lips. Her hand is soft in that way usually associated with women, yet it's callused in just the way I thought it might be.

“My Lord, my name is Mimelia Gladus. Now let's start over before we both die of embarrassment. I would deeply desire to know your reasons for searching my body so… intently.”

My breath catches at her calling me out, and her insinuation. “Err. I'm Evangeline. You can call me Eve. And I was “searching” your body because I could tell from your movements that you did martial arts.”

Her pretty face turns sour, as if she were expecting another reason. I can't imagine what else she wanted me to say but that's a dangerous line of thought, so I dismiss it and go to open my mouth when she- Mimelia cuts me off.

“Astute, my Lord.” Mimelia says, neither confirming nor denying my statement.

“Listen,” I continue, “I didn't mean to upset you. And now I've made you mad. I'm sorry Mimi.” She takes a half step back, possibly from my casual comment. “I'm sorry,” I say, “Is that not ok? God, why am I so awkward right now?” I bury my head in my hands.

I suddenly feel a cool hand sliding through my hair, comfortingly. For just a moment my head pounds. “It's no issue, my Lord. I simply haven't heard that name since I was but a girl.”

Truth be told though, she couldn't have been older than me and I'm only seventeen. For all intents and purposes, she is still a girl, but I neglect to say that.

“I see. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to be demeaning. I just thought it suited you, ne?” I mentally kick myself for my casual attitude. What's wrong with me? I'm always on guard and yet I'm being a fool, a jerk even.

I pull on my red hair and twist it around my fingers. My stomach is in knots and I don't even know why. I extend my other hand and hold it out in front of me for a handshake. During all of this embarrassing interaction, I've managed to pull myself up into a half-sitting position using the headrest and pillows.

If I'm being honest, even holding my hand out like this is exhausting me. I wish she'd just shake already dang it. Mimi studies my hand for a moment before placing her hand in mine. As I go to shake, she flips my hand over, brings my hand up some as she lowers herself down. Before I have any chance to correct her misunderstanding, her lips connect with the back of my hand and it is like a mix of fire and lightning attacks my system. The sensation is so strong that I can't even pull away. Instead, it's as if my hand and her lips have melted into one.

No sooner then she started, she ended. She raises her head up with a sheepish grin on her face and a touch of red colors her cheeks. “Well met my Zeroth Knight.” She says as she sets on the edge of my bed, far too casually for someone she just met. No one in my world would have thought of doing something like this. She doesn't act like she felt what I felt so I ignore that sensation for now. “How are you feeling, my Lord?” She says while placing a hand on my head.

“I’m fine, I think. Actually, that’s kind of important. What the hell happened? How long was I out? What’s happened to Fennis?” I fire off question after question in rapid succession and it’s not long before I notice Mimi’s eyes glazing over. I blush slightly and look down. “Sorry,” I say. Why am I blushing? Why am I sorry? What the hell is going on with me?

“What happened to you is long and varied. Suffice to say, you were beaten and broken, and we made you better, with no small contribution from your ability to enter stasis.” I hear a voice before I see a person. It comes from the hallway but it’s a voice I would never forget.

She continues when she appears in the doorway, Nina says, “You were out for the better part of a week.” The words spill from her as her yellow hair bounces with each step towards me. She continues, step by step, “It's amazing to think of how utterly devastated you were and yet you recovered quicker than you did with the Transcendence. Remarkable really.” Nina approaches my side, much to the seemingly annoyed Mimi's dismay. Again she continues-

“Fascinating really. This is new information worthy of research. Is the Transcendence really so destructive? Never before has another, in medical history, suffered for so long after it. Yet then again, women have never been candidates for the Zeroth. Or perhaps you did suffer more in your fight with Fennis; yet due to that amazing power you displayed, you are able to recover far faster than the current research suggests. My, how fascinating. See, the only real way to test it would be to poke and prod you more; maybe a cut here, maybe a cut there, and see what happens.”

Nina’s eyes flash, and she continues in her machine-gun way, “After all, you’ve already shown yourself to be a glutton for punishment. I mean, how else are we to explain how you allowed things to progress to such a level, ne?”

I don’t really understand why, but Nina’s mad. I don’t understand at all, but she’s definitely, definitely mad. Fennis was terrifying in his own right, but, and no offense to him, the look in Nina’s eyes is quite possibly the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.

A cold sweat assaults me as the words continue to fly from Nina’s mouth. All she said to me, I won't repeat here; her rebukes are long, and varied. Out of the corner of my eye I see even Mimi, who looked so annoyed before, seeming transfixed on everything but me. I know we only just met, but come on! I don’t have any other allies!

Nina seems to be running out of breath because, for the first time, she stops talking, and inhales deeply. Her glare on me is angered, but not murderous- thankfully.

“I, um, I-I don’t wanna be poked and probed.” I say with my eyes half in fake tears.

At the sight of this, Nina simply sighs, then giggles. “Of all that was said, that’s the part you feel important to comment on?” Nina laughs. I am barely able to contain my own giggle as I notice Mimi doing the same at my periphery.

Nina’s expression slowly returns to normal and she gives me a look of disbelief and says in a huff, “And I said prod, not probe.” At that, we all laugh again, even Mimi is no longer able to hold back and joins us. As we recover and wipe the tears from our eyes, I grew somber in my complexion and ask, “And Fennis?”

At this, Nina’s face is crestfallen, but she recovers- or what she thinks to be recovered- and says, “As was ordered, as was done.” She relays with her head half bowed, and her bun barely containing her yellow hair, with strands sticking out every which way. I am once again assaulted by feelings of guilt over what I must have put her through.

“Nina, I’m sorry I’ve worried you.”

I reach out with my hand and lightly grasp her fingers. I’m now realizing once again just how weak I am; again I’m tempted to fall into sleep's embrace, but I resist as much as I can. I see a hint of a smile in Nina’s eyes before it’s gone, replaced by apprehension. She rotates her head marginally. As if continuing to hide the cause of her apprehension, she only looks out of her periphery.

But the cause of her actions is clear, behind and to Nina’s right, stands Mimi with shoulders held high, and chest struck out- all of probably five foot, three inches of herself. She’s staring daggers at where our hands meet. She’s bristling with unrestrained anger. Before anything comes of it, Nina slides her fingers out of my hand and turns to Mimi while clearing her throat and saying, “Mistress Mimelia, Zero appears to be in good enough shape, if still sleep-deprived.”

How did she know? Do I look as bad as I feel?

Nina continues to Mimi, “Therefore, in the morning you may take her home. Do you have any questions?” Then Nina stutters for a second before seemingly correcting herself, “Questions related to the Zeroth’s health, I mean.”

At this, the anger on Mimi’s face mostly falls away. She still had an indignant look cast towards Nina but she replies, “That will be all Ninavin.” She spits Nina’s name with such disgust that Nina flinches; and I want nothing more but to scold Mimi. But it’s none of my business.

Ultimately I’m an outsider here in this place and don’t understand what is going on or why. So I do what I feel I’ve earned the right to do- I run, by giving into sleep’s embrace.

 

Wive's Tale - Part 2 ​

I wake up to the caress of the sun's morning rays. The world is largely silent, so at first, I think I'm hearing things. But as I focused my attention I realized I could hear what sounds like shouting coming from somewhere else. With a copious amount of effort, I pull myself out of the bed and stand.

It takes more energy than I’d like to admit, and far too long, but I managed to shuffle to the door. As I tentatively pull it open I realize, this will be the first time I've seen the outside of this room. I mean sure, that's technically not true but I was in far too much of a panic to take note of anything last time due to Charlotte and her goons… Charlotte, I wonder how she's doing. I can't imagine why I'm thinking of her, so I shake the thoughts from my head.

I peek my head out and check to see no one around. I guess I'm not a prisoner. I follow the sounds of shouting and I slowly hear things like, “...monstrous bitch!” and “I won't tell you again…” but it's muffled. As I make my way through the upstairs hallway I take note of how barren it is. I suppose there’s little need for aesthetics in a hospital, but this is strange. I don’t even see any other staff.

I make my way downstairs, following the shouts as they increase in intensity. Words are flying, and people are clearly pissed. As I reach a wooden door, I have just a moment to myself to contemplate whether this is a good idea or not. But against my better judgment, and with significant effort, I push the door open.

As I slide in between the doors to stand in the large, dome-like room within, I notice a set of five eyes on me. I feel extremely self-conscious, like a child who's been caught doing something bad. My eyes dart around and I see Nina and her yellow hair, standing in the middle of four women I don’t know. Well, I recognize Mimi, but I can hardly say I “know” her.

“My Lord…” each murmur in turn. I see that Nina’s head is bowed, and though she tries to hide it, the tears are obvious. At the sight of the girls surrounding Nina, my vision flashes with anger. I immediately want to rip them to pieces, and if the pounding inside my head is any indication, Rei would indulge me; though I can’t understand why. That thought alone terrifies me and causes my anger to abate. Nonetheless, it’s obvious enough to tell what’s been going on.

It takes effort, but I march towards them, prepared to reprimand them when suddenly a woman I do not recognize speaks up, “Ah. My Lord. I’m sorry you’ve happened upon this. But I swear upon your honor that it is not what it looks like, not wholly. Jealousy is simply ugly, but common,” she says while looking towards the others. She’s definitely the oldest of the group, easily mid-twenties. Her hair is a beautiful white and in a single long braid that nearly touches the floor. Her eyes are a blue that would not be entirely out of place in my world. “Pray, if only for me, forgive them and their quarrel,” she says, gesturing to the others.

Her eyes are soft but stern, like a mothers. She’s wearing clothes that match the other girls in the room, besides Nina and myself. She’s in a robe that is draped over her simply, and it reaches down to her ankles. The robe is a deep green and carries a symbol on the front in red, of what appears to be a man receiving a piece of fruit from another. Her voice carries a sensual charm to it that comes from deep inside, just behind her sternum- a sternum hidden behind an awfully large pair of breasts.

“Why the hell is that something I’m noticing?”

I mentally berate myself for being weird- weird all morning. This woman, and her assets, comes complete in a package deal of about five foot ten inches tall. She’s definitely the second tallest woman I’ve seen here, beaten only by Charlotte who’s easily over six foot.

“I am Rosaline Vitrious, my Lord,” she says while giving me a half bow.

“She’s beautiful enough to justify the name,” I think; when suddenly Mimi speaks up.

“Please, like you had no part in this. The moment I told you about them holding hands you immediately got mad,” she says towards Rosaline; and Rosaline betrays her motherly temperament and snaps back, “You made it significantly more salacious sounding than just holding hands, girl. Even I have my limits and you are pushing them. I swear to our King that I will do worse to you than that fool Fennis did to himself,” she says sharply to Mimi.

There’s a twinge of pain in my chest at the reminder of what happened to Fennis. Seemingly picking up on my mood, another girl turns to me with a tilted head. When I notice her, a shock runs through me.

This girl has frightening eyes. Not due to any particular expression, but due to the lack of any expression at all. Her face is framed by a bob cut that may be just a tad too cute to be on someone like her. Her eyes are a deep yellow and are set deep within a sunken valley of death; though I suppose that’s rude of me to say. But I can’t help it.

Much like Mimi, this woman wears who she is on the surface- and what she wears is a death mask. This woman has killed, and not just once. And yet more than the blood of bygone people, it’s her hair that stands out most. Her hair is a nondescript brown that would fit in perfectly in my world; and that doesn’t fit at all with what I’ve seen of this world. In this world, if you are powerful, it shows in your features. This world is more honest in that way, than my world ever could hope to be.

But this girl, who stands probably an inch or two higher than me- and I stand a solid five foot five- exudes power. She must be ten feet away from me, but she was able to pick up on the subtle changes within me from the guilt; and I’m sure even from this distance, she could strike me down if she chose.

But she doesn’t. She simply makes sure to catch my eye, and lightly nods her head, as if trying to reassure me. It’s a strange gesture, made cute by its juxtaposition to her countenance. This causes me to present her a wide smile, much as I try not to.

“Pff. It was still salacious, even it means nothing to you. As one who gets around, I’d imagine hardly anything could trigger your sensitivities.” This time, Mimi’s words seem to cut deep.

Rose’s brow furrows deeply and you can tell she is about to explode. The entirety of the air temperature around us suddenly drops dramatically.

In my already weakened state, the sudden cold shock forces me to lose my balance. Luckily the girl with the bob cut from before is behind me to hold me up; but holy hell how did she manage that?

“Dang you’re fast.” I mention, quickly and quietly enough for only her to hear.

It’s only then that I realize she has her arms around me in an embrace. The palms of her hands rest on my stomach. Realizing just how amazing this feels makes me about to scream when she speaks up so quietly that I have to stop panicking enough to even figure out if she actually said something.

“My Lord,” she says in a low voice, as bereft of emotion as I expected. “You must be careful,” she says to me while helping me stabilize my footing, and pulling her arms away from me- her warmth amongst this cold is greatly missed. I look back to the others and notice everyone looking at this girl and I. Even Nina is peaking up from her downcast to look at us.

I clear my throat and speak, “I don’t really get what’s going on, but whatever you all did just made me nearly fall over. I’m still pretty weak right now and don’t really think having everyone be in a bad mood is good for me. So if possible, can we all make nice?” As the last word leaves me, my stomach growls.

I feel a blush creep to my cheeks and say, “And I’m hungry, apparently.” As if to add to how horrible I feel, along with the hunger pains, my head pounds a few times. The force is, once again, enough to cause me to jerk forward in the real world. But this girl catches me once again. She just silently stares at me as I try to recover myself. “Thank you… um,”

“Smith, Kay.”

That is all she says to me as she once again separates herself from the group. How bland of a name. But man, was that rude of me to think or what?

I also notice the cold feeling is gone now, thankfully; so even without Kay’s warmth, I’m doing fine now.

The women all look at me as if they just kicked a puppy. Suffice to say, they’ve been properly scolded… somehow… “Uh, alright then, so what’s the gameplan Nina?” At the sound of her own name, Nina jerks her head up to meet my gaze.

Only it’s then that I have flashbacks to Charlotte and quickly scan the people around me. They all have varying degrees of concealed anger. Mimi is as you would expect to find her; eyes squinted and with a furrowed brow, both directed towards Nina. Rose is more contained, but the small glare she offers towards Nina is still present. To my surprise, Kay’s look gives off the most hostility. However, her hostility feels a little different than that of the others. Kay’s seems almost protective. Of what, I don’t know.

I look toward where I remember there being another girl, but I can’t find her. I look all around me and notice the beautiful architecture. The walls are adorned with various pictures of the world around us, as well as a few portraits of the King On High and others I do not recognize. I feel a strange sense of disconnect as if the reality doesn’t mix with what I see.

I move my attention back to the crowd, pushing the thought of another woman from my mind and continuing, “Oh. Sorry. I'm Evangeline. But you can all call me Eve and-” I stop myself there because I knew by the look on their faces that not a single one of them had any intention of calling me by my name. I sigh and shift my weight from one leg to another while slowly scanning the faces of every woman in the room. Truth be told they're all beautiful in their own way. Any man would be lucky to have any one of them.

That thought causes the pounding in my head to burst like a tsunami against me. I start to fall to my knees and with speed I wouldn't have believed, a woman is there to hold me up. As I move my head to thank Kay, I find myself staring deep into green eyes. A strand of yellow hair dangles teasingly between us as I recognize Nina. Possibly noticing the disbelief on my face, she clears her throat and helps me back to my feet.

Nina let's go of me but uses her right hand, on the small of my back, to turn me towards the crowd of women again. I notice a shadow hiding behind Rose, but the others pay it no mind.

“Allow me to introduce you to the Valkyries, my Lord Zeroth Knight,” she says with authority and respect, in her most business-like manner of speech.

“Each of these women, is your wife.” I notice her words losing some respect near the end statement.

Truth be told, all I can do is stand there for a while. My brain literally cannot process what I just heard.

 

Disconnection - Part 1​

So here I am, sitting around in a wonderfully comfortable chair, with three, maybe four sets of eyes on me. Each of the girls I’ve met, and possibly one I haven’t, sit around me, all in equally comfortable looking high chairs. I hold my face in my hands, and say to no one in particular, “Once again, from the top. Please, please someone explain this to me in a simple way that I can understand.”

Every woman in the room exchanges glances with each other, seemingly all lost in confusion. “I’ve never met someone with such little knowledge of the Zeroth. So you really are from the Outerlands then?” asks Mimi.

She looks on in curiosity before looking towards Rose. “I’ve never met an Outlander before. I’ve also never heard of one being in the running of Knights, let alone for the Zeroth,” Rose nods towards Mimi, her silver braid brushing against the floor.

Kay remains expressionless, neither showing emotion or even moving in general. She sits like a statue and listens to our conversations. I don’t think I’ve heard her talk since she told me her name.

“So somehow, the title of Zeroth, what?” I say between my fingers, head hung lower, back bent, “Is the right to a harem or something?”

Rose speaks up, “That is one way to look at it, yes. We have the honor of having been chosen to be the Zeroth’s wives. We’ve spent our whole lives waiting for this moment, the moment to meet you, Lord Zero.” She moves off of her chair while telling me this.

She approaches me and kneels before me to peek up at me from under my hands. “We are magnificent my Lord Zero. We are the best women anyone could ever desire and we shall give you the most magnificent of children; on this, I swear. And yet you act as if we are simply not good enough?” Rose asks with hurt on her face. But she continues before I have time to really register the insanity of what she has just said. “If there is nothing good about us my Lord of Knights, then simply state what you wish and we will make it so. Please do not throw us out. All we’ve wanted our entire lives is to live a life of servitude to our Zeroth.”

Rose is in literal tears as she professes this. I pull my head up and look around to see the same on Mimi’s face; and to my surprise I can see a small amount of anxiety on Kay’s face.

“Hold on,” I say through my exasperation, “Please, just, give me a second before you all start the waterworks. This isn’t fair at all. What about what I want? And besides, you’ve been talking nonsense. You all don’t know me, how the hell could you wish to be my wives? No, further still there are even more things wrong with what you’ve said.”

I take a deep breath and continue, “First off, “wives?” as in multiple wives? Isn’t that wrong? And even still, the core of the issue is you said it is your duty to bear my children? Beyond the horrible implication that you all basically only exist to shove out a stranger’s children,” I say with anger rising in my voice, “You do realize that we literally cannot have children together, yes? Surely you’re not all so ass-backward with your biological sciences yes?”

Rose tilts her head to the side and looks towards, weirdly enough, Kay. Kay makes no real expression but slightly shrugs her shoulders.

“Are you saying we are not good enough for your children my Lord Zero? Or are you… perhaps admitting to your own um… incompetence?” Mimi struggles to finish her sentence, and upon doing so with a bright red face, she looks away.

“What are you people talking about? The issue is that you are all women.” I say with real aggravation in my tone. All three, Kay included, gasp.

“Are you saying you are not a fan of the female persuasion my Lord? I’ve heard of such things in stories but…” Rose says, moving slightly away from me. I nearly hurt my head from the force of my facepalm at their expressions.

“You’re all women and couldn’t possibly have children with me because I’m also a woman.” I scan their faces again, and see a mix of all kinds of emotions on Mimi. She shows confusion, anger, and sadness.

Kay is largely expressionless but seems to be lost in thought. Rose’s jaw is on the ground somewhere and she seems to be staring intently at the ground, trying to find it. “Right…” Mimi says, as if somehow this news came out of nowhere.

“How could you possibly have not realized that? I’m not the best looking woman around but you can quite clearly see that I am a woman, yes?” I say towards Rose, as if I need the validation to save my self-confidence.

“I…” she stammers, “Yes. You are very obviously a woman. I did not forget. I suppose I just…” she lets her sentence hang in the air without being completed.

I wish Nina were here. She’s a doctor. Maybe she could give basic sex ed to these women. I’m still bothered that we had to separate. It seems she won't be living with us. She has her own home somewhere else in the city. But alas, I'm stuck with these people, at least for the time being; and I really wanted to talk to Nina and make sure she was all right.

Seeming to have finally picked her jaw up off the floor, Rose clears her throat and says, “Perhaps we should speak with the Academy in the morning to try and clear things up. But for now, perhaps we should retire for the night.” She says this, in that parental tone that basically disallows anyone to refuse her for fear of reprimand.

I'm so confused as to what there is to discuss. The others begin to stand up and shuffle out the doorway, each one telling me goodnight in their own, apprehensive way. It seems tonight has put the others on edge despite the fact that is should be me who's most put out. This situation affects me more than the others and yet they act like I've given them a death sentence.

“You basically have,” I hear a woman’s voice. I flip out and give a shriek. There was absolutely no one left in the room and the voice was far too real to be Rei’s. With my heart pounding I looking all around the room to make sure I wasn't going crazy, when I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder from behind me. My instincts cut in and I grab the hand by its wrist while turning my body. I shift my weight while moving my legs to sweep the other person’s legs. They fly out from under the person; and using them and their momentum, I twist their arm and spin them into the air. With gravity's assistance, I pull down on the arm and slam the person to the ground with an audible thunk.

I hear the girl give a small cry as she lands on the ground. I don’t know when it happened but I’m straddled on top of her with her arms pinned to her side. It’s only then that I finally gain awareness of what is going on. My knee is digging into her sternum and I can tell she’s gasping for air. I quickly move my knee to her side, so I’m fully straddling her, but I keep her arms pinned to her side.

“What an overreaction.” She says while looking up at me. Her eyes are pure white and lay deep inside her head. She has solid black hair at just above her bronze-colored shoulders, done in a side braid. As the adrenaline running through me abates, I finally take in the situation in full.

“Where the hell did you come from? I thought I was going crazy! You’re a fourth “wife” aren’t you?” I spit out at her, voice still shaky from the fright.

“You need to calm down.”

I hesitate for a moment before beginning to shift myself off of her but she stops me, with such a serious voice, that I give in. Sitting on top of her, staring down into her white eyes, I tilt my head in confusion, asking her what she means.

“This is a nice position to be in,” she says with a seductive smile. Almost immediately I shoot up and slide off of her. I hear her audible “tsk” as she props herself up on her elbows and looks at me.

I’m sitting there dumbfounded, “What the hell?” I stammer out and she chuckles. She gives herself a boost up on her hands and knees and slowly crawls up to me while asking, “Did I stutter?”

She approaches me, in full seduction mode, and her ponytail slides around her bronze shoulder. The movement draws my eyes downwards and the first thing to enter my line of sight is her modest bust. Whatever kind of shirt she’s wearing is different than what I’ve seen others here wear. This position reveals far more of her chest than should be allowed and I gulp.

“See something you like, Zero?” She says with her lips now right next to my ear. She lightly touches her lips to my ear and my pulse speeds up dramatically and butterflies assault my stomach. I’m feeling something I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to deal with it. It seems Rei doesn’t either because she’s making a racket in my mind, but even that can’t pull me out of this state. The next thing I notice is her smell. It’s wild and sun-bleached. She smells of berries and the grass. Whoever this woman is, she isn’t like the others.

In my stupor, I reach up and wrap my left arm around the back of her head, and I’m greeted with the sound of her breath catching in my ear. Summoning every single ounce of strength I could possibly muster, I lightly tug on her hair and pull her away from me, separating us.

I’m greeted with those beautiful lips turned around, into a frown. “And it was going so well. Why do you stop me?”

"I-I did because of course I did. I don’t know you! And we’re both women!” She stares at me with a look I can’t quite make out when she replies, “Both women…” as if it just dawned on her.

What the hell is up with these people!? “Yeah, so, you know…”

She shrugs and leans herself to within inches of our noses touching and stares into my eyes. I can’t quite make out if that’s one hundred percent accurate because she lacks an Iris of any color, but judging by her pupils, I’d say she’s looking at me, as if searching for something. She nods lightly to herself as if reaching a conclusion and says, “It would be a first for me but,” she leans in a bit closer, her scent is overpowering my sense again. “But I’m game if you are.”

Her lips meet mine with the smallest contact possible. In fact, were we to look at it closer, with better magnification we could probably disprove they touched at all.

But I have no idea what the hell I’m thinking and I react by pulling away and shooting straight up, standing. My breathing is ragged and my head feels woozy.

She looks at me with an obvious pout and sits up with her arms crossed. Here I was, thinking Mimi wore her feelings on the surface, this woman has absolutely zero desire to hide anything. It’s almost flattering. But I’ve never… you know…

“Liar,” echoes through my head and I turn myself inward. There I stand face to face with Rei, and I am pissed.

“What the hell did you just say to me?"I ask while marching up to her and grabbing her by her collar. I have to angle her down so I can properly meet her eyes due to being marginally smaller than her. The pressure is intense but I’m too angry at her to care.

“I called it as I know it to be. You are a liar.”

“Just what the hell am I a liar about?!” I lightly shake her, and notice her black hair sliding across the ground with our movement.

“You were thinking something untrue, thus you are a liar.”

“What I say in my own mind is mine, and no others’.” I shoot out with even more anger. But Rei gives a small chuckle, and with a shooing motion, I’m back to the physical world, with the mystery girl’s hand on my cheek and her leaning up and in. I pull away while asking what the hell she was doing.

“Well, you weren’t responding and you didn't pull away again. So I thought you changed your mind,” she says while looking hurt.

So it seems that if I'm directly conversing with Rei in “person” that I sort of check out in the real world, wonderful. “I’m sorry to have caused a misunderstanding,” I tell her, while taking a small step away and continuing, “But like I said, it’s simply impossible.”

She refuses to let it drop and asks, “And why’s it impossible?”

“No. Let's back up and have you tell me why you’re even pushing for this so hard. I don’t know you, and you don’t even know me.”

“Who cares?” She asks while sliding herself down into a two-seater sofa- her meaning obvious. She continues and I tentatively take a seat with her, while leaning as far away as I can. “You can’t let yourself get caught up in overthinking things. I want to take you, and so I plan to.” She lays a hand on my knee and I recoil, but with nowhere to go, she keeps her hand on my knee.

“You may call me Gee, by the way.” She gently strokes my knee. I won't lie, it feels good. I just can’t explain away what the hell has been going on with me today. So much of me has been different than it should be. Even this. Why am I even still here?

Then I remember something I’ve forgotten and ask, “Wait. You said earlier that I, “basically have.” What were you talking about?”

She removes her hand from my knee, leaving a cold spot. She moves her hand back to her lap and continues, “You have basically sentenced them to the chopping block,” she says while lifting her hand, dragging her thumb across her throat- her meaning clear.

 

Disconnection - Part 2​

The thought of my actions bringing death to others, strangers or not, terrifies me. But even further still, I didn't say any of that out loud, so I can’t help but question Gee.

“What do you mean when you tell me I've practically ordered their execution? And how did you know that I did? I didn't say anything out loud.”

“People have unique shadows, did you know? Much like their faces. Well, their faces if you ignore twins,” she shudders, “Evil things they are.” she jokes.

I give Gee a glare and she holds her hands up in surrender. “All I mean to say is, you wear your feelings deep down, and it makes it easy to guess what you’re thinking.”

Her words are so confusing that I drop my head into my hands.

With my hands massaging my temples I say, “Alright. If you say so. I’ve given up trying to understand you people.”

She tilts her head at me and quizzically says, “Now that’s interesting. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

I shrug my shoulders. “But, again, what do you mean I’ve sentenced them to death?”

Gee takes a moment to study me before replying. Eventually, she takes on a condescending tone and replies, “I know more about the Zeroth than you do, do I?"

My brow furrows and I pull myself up. “Gee. You’re making me mad.”

She chuckles and says she’s aware, while sliding herself up closer to me. I give up trying to run away and press for an answer. She simply lays her arm around my shoulders and leans her head on my right one.

Never, and I mean never, in my life have I ever been in this position with someone. This is so intimate that I don’t even feel good about it, despite seemingly every point of contact feeling good since I’ve arrived in this world. After a moment she seems to pick up on it, and in an act of kindness I wouldn’t expect from her, she removes her arm. She keeps her head leaning on my shoulder, however, but at least she isn’t holding me now.

After I am done steadying my breath, she asks, “Are you good now my Zero?” Her possessive tone reminds me of the others. This woman really is one of my “wives” isn’t she? That’s quite possibly the only thing they all have in common. They’re all weirdly possessive; even Kay. After that thought, I feel a small pinch on my arm that hurts just enough for me to jerk away.

“Ouch. What’s that for?”

She huffs out, “At least only think about me when it’s just us. Why’s there gotta be another woman on your mind? That’s rude.”

“I, uh, what? I-I wasn’t thinking about another woman. I wasn’t even thinking about a woman in any significant capacity,” I say while rubbing my arm, forcing her head to bob up and down. “I was only thinking about-” I turn my head towards her and interrupt that line of thought for another, “Can you really read minds?”

She stares upwards at me, into my eyes, as if thinking about something. She adds, “Not exactly. It’s more like, every feeling in this world comes across differently based on the thoughts associated with them, and they bleed into the other side of this world, the shadows. The deeper the feeling, the secret, the more rooted they are in the darkness. Once you know what each kind of feelings is associated with what thoughts, it’s easy to understand people.”

“So, you could tell I was thinking about a woman, but not what I was thinking verbatim. And because I had been thinking about women, my feelings came across a certain way. Then you extrapolated that to me having been thinking about the other women. That sound about right?” She nods her head, “Roughly” she says.

“Well, you need some fine-tuning because, again, I wasn’t thinking in any significant capacity, let alone about a woman.” I clear my throat and continue, “What I was thinking about is, how the only trait I can see that all of you share, is how every one of you is possessive and jealous.” I tease her.

Gee lifts her head completely and again, looks into my eyes intently. I was hoping to hear what her laugh sounded like, but to no avail. Did I just learn that I suck at people?

“Is that how you try and differentiate a lie when it doesn’t wholly match with what you were thinking?” I stare back unflinchingly; and that’s probably a bad idea. Her eyes shift to a golden and are absolutely stunning and they pull on me. Against my better judgment, I lean in some and before I know what I’m doing, I’m moving my lips towards hers. But much to my surprise, it’s her that pulls away.

She makes no acknowledgment of what just happened, and I feel unbelievably embarrassed and awkward. I have no idea why I just tried to kiss her. I am objectively not into women. Literally not into women on a level that has been genetically modified to be as such. I am scientifically not into women. Then why? Why, why, why do these women keep causing these urges to flare up? This is ludicrous and needs to stop. Now.

Gee, seemingly completely unaware of my inner turmoil, keeps looking at me with her eyes locked on mine. “Yes, I suppose you could say it is.”

I can only reply, “Huh?” because I had completely forgotten about what we had been talking about due to the turmoil inside my mind.

“The way I try and get a feel for something if it doesn’t align with what I’ve been experiencing from their feelings. Granted, I’m almost always right. I’m easily right eighty percent of the time. But yes, it happens occasionally. It’s happened several times tonight, just with you. And that’s amazing considering the odds.” I know I’m blushing, and yet she still doesn’t make any comment. This is driving me absolutely insane.

“Yes yes. That’s fine. But I try and kiss you and you pull away from me? And you don’t even take the opportunity to even tease me about it? What the hell?” I said while shifting halfway off the seat.

Gee looks at me with confusion in her now-white eyes for just a moment before taking the chance to adjust her hair and replies, “I’m a lot of things my Zero, but I am not foolish enough to truly force myself on the Zeroth Knight. Even I couldn’t escape from that.”

“What does that mean? I tried to kiss you. How the hell is that you forcing anything on me?” I near shout. Only the thought of waking up the others, and the shitstorm that would follow if they caught us this close together reminds me to keep my voice down.

“Furthermore, why the hell am I even bringing this up? This is insane.” I say while putting my head into my hands again.

“Indeed, why do you act so contradictory to your feelings? When you wanted me, you denied me. When you were denying me, you tried to want me. You’re able to keep some feelings so hidden that it’s remarkable, but then you’re not able to hide your most basic of feelings at all.” Gee says her piece, then shifts back to an earlier topic, “But to get back to a much earlier question. Why do I want you Zero? Because you are linked to it all. Were that I could, I would show you the colors of your being, but I cannot.” Gee shifts in her seat and continues, “And beyond that, you found me in the auditorium, in the room where you first met the others.”

I tilt my head at her, urging her to explain what she means. “No one finds me, not unless I want them to. I’m aspected to Shadows. I can, and frequently do spend time away from the world, lost in that darkness. I can come and go as I please, essentially free from any form of repercussions for my actions; for who can catch their shadow?"

She’s just unloaded so much information on me that I don’t even know where to begin. So much of what she said makes little sense, and much more, makes none. Seeming to sense my confusion with her... magik? She simply shrugs and says, “You knew there was another person when you met the group yes?”

I nod and she continues, “No one finds me like that. And I mean no one. No single individual has ever found me. You don’t know how remarkable that is. How remarkable you are.”

I sigh into my hands and decide that today has been overkill and that continuing this conversation won't benefit me. I’m just too drained. But she still hasn’t answered my main question. “What do you mean I’ve sentenced them to death, dammit?” I say with rising anger.

“Basically what it sounds like. They’ve each spent their entire lives pining to be your wife. Their entire goal in living is to be your servants and wives,” she tells me.

“And if after everything, they’re deemed to not be good enough by the very same person, what do you think would happen to them, hm? Do you think the powers that be would simply shrug and move on to the next set of women? No. The shame alone would force them onto the chopping block; and were they to even bother staying alive after your rejection, there’d be nothing left for them in this world. No one would associate with people whom the very Zeroth Knight themselves disavowed.” Gee finishes her explanation, and I feel even more drained than before.

“This whole situation is unfair. It’s basically like I’m holding them hostage without even trying. Even if we pretend for a moment that this really is what they all wanted, and I have a hard time believing this kind of life is one that anyone would choose, what about what I want?” I ask.

Gee stares off into the distance but says, seemingly to no one in particular, “You don’t have a choice in things. None of us do really, but especially not you.”

“Why? Why would I of all people not have a choice in anything?” I ask in near desperation.

“That’s simple.” Gee says before closing her eyes and continuing, “You’re the Zeroth. You may stand above and beyond everyone else in this world, but you’re still bound by the title and all that the title comes with. You have no choice in your life because from the moment you came into this world you were given an order. And from that very first moment on, you’ve been given even more orders. Your entire life is just a series of orders.” She opens her eyes and turns towards me to meet my mine.

After she sees I’m paying attention she continues, “You’ve never been free. You have obligations to life. And with the Transcendence, you have even less of a free will than you thought you had before.” Her news is completely disheartening, but in a way I get it.

I’ve been given a title and there are certain responsibilities that come with titles. There are certain ways to behave and certain ways I’m now expected to be. That’s the power of titles- they define us, and so they control us.

Assuming that’s what she meant, I feel mostly satisfied. Yet at the same time, I want to know so much more of her thoughts on the subject, and indeed, the thoughts of others. I feel like there’s something missing, but I don’t have enough pieces to figure it out. I’m basically dead to the world and decide this is probably where things should end.

“I’m going to bed.”

She gets a small, hopeful look on her face and it almost pains me to have to shoot her down. But that’s exactly what I do, “Alone.”

She shrugs her shoulder and just says, “Fine,” while getting up from the seat. While she’s storming out I call her name and she stops.

“Goodnight, sleep tight.” I tell her. With a small smile, a nod, and a, “You too,” she’s gone.

I make it back up to my room and the exhaustion takes me. Before I even touch the mattress, I’m out. I don't even dream.