Redemption Songs

[Nayt]

On the boat, he said not a word. He watched the horizon with a pair of scarlet eyes, watched the sun as it steadily gave way to nightfall, and hummed a tune that no one recognized. The sailors asked him where they were going, where the black feather was taking them and what song he kept humming, but he didn't know the answer to any of them. He only had a gut feeling.

---

Uninvited, he strode into the Palace, paid no mind to the vice dens, and sent echoes through the halls with each forward step. In the distance behind him, sailors awaited a return he couldn't promise. All he'd left them was the knowledge that if he wasn't reporting to them by sunrise, that he was most certainly dead in one way or another, and they were suggested to leave without second thought. They already had their payment, after all. They'd no more reason to stick around. They had only a promise of a bonus if they stuck around to get him back to the mainland, but no bonus could justify experiencing needless hostility.

He was tall and gaunt, scrawny and scarred up all over his chest and back. He had short, wild blond hair, a moderate series of piercings all across his face, and fairly tanned skin. He looked like the ideal tourist, with a red hounds-tooth button down shirt, top two buttons undone, loose tan slacks, and sandals.

Tourism was not why this man had come, though. Today was an off day within the Palace; the dens were all but empty and the islanders were mostly attending to their necessities. It was a day of rest, perhaps, for their king. An uneventful day. Or at least, it should have been perfectly uneventful . . .

[Mandaz]

The grand hall, usually so filled with life and exuberance, held an air of uneasiness as the king sat perched in its heart. He leaned back in his grand throne, feet teetering on the edge whilst his knees acted as tables to his wringing hands. The attendants to the king felt a restless nervousness in their hearts, and knew the other denizens of the island to be feeling it as well. This collective unease even mirrored itself in the weather, as the sun seemed to turn its head from the rift to hide behind grey clouds. Similar to how the king shaded his eyes with his hands. No music was played, barely anyone moved. If a pin were to fall, the entire castle would echo with the din. With a heavy sigh a brave attendant kneeled at her ruler’s side and carefully questioned in a tone not above a whisper,

“What has you so troubled, my lord?”

The Rift king tapped his fingers anxiously, as if counting out his heart’s rhythm beat by beat. He did not bless his subject with a glace of his eyes. Rather, he kept them forward, unwavering, to the entrance of the grand hall. A large set of heavy wooden doors intricately carved and heavily guarded. Guards who, today, actually stood at their posts, rather than sleeping along the floor.

“Something isn’t as it should be.” He mouthed out first, and then repeated with sound. “Something is off. There is a feeling here. I am not sure how it came to be. But something has forced itself into my heart. Like a hammer driving a nail into my chest. I believe…”

He stopped, placing his feet on the ground while leaning forward, his eyes nearly stared holes into the thick doors. The feeling approached, and the tapping of his fingers increased.

“Someone’s come to crash the party.”

[Nayt]

There was, indeed, an echo throughout the palace. Each footfall broke the silence ravenously, moving at a steady progression, calm, collected, and casual. It was so natural for him to adopt a smile or a grin. Habit commanded his lips to curl into a smirk, but better thought commanded them to halt. In the median, his smile was noncommittal, neither happy, confident, nor sad. He dipped his head low, shoved his hands into his pockets, all the way down to the pinkish-red scars upon his wrists.

Even he didn't know how to feel about this. In fact, as he stopped at the end of the great hall, where towering, closed doors led straight to the king's court and throne, he was tempted to turn back. Each second was another torrent of heartbeats, each one pumping a new doubt through his veins.

But there was no turning back. He'd stalked down the feather, raised the money, got the ship, and made it this far. He couldn't turn back. The last few months would have been wasted if he did. He might never be able to come back here again, after all. And so, with a breath from his nose, he withdrew his hands from his pockets, set his wrists upon the doors before them, and pushed forward with all the strength he could muster. They were large and heavy; he had to walk into them to even open them slowly, but he would casually push through, step foot into the court of the Rift King, and pause long enough to look upon the distant throne. And all the man said at that moment was thus:

"Evenin'."

[Mandaz]

His subjects had never seen the look that plastered itself upon their king’s face. He stood as the figure pushed through the doors, causing every attendant in the throne room to shift away from him, as if King Edric’s apprehension forcibly pushed them all. Not even his guards shifted to subdue the man, too stunned with their lord’s uncharacteristic reaction. Usually guests, invited or no, were welcomed liked royalty from the instant they set foot upon the sands of Persistencia. But this one has caused Edric to clench his fists and stare down the tall man as if he were a poison.

“You.” He coughed out. Edric’s head had never been one for keeping up with memories, but the king had broken into a nervous anger upon one glimpse of the visitor. A flood of images whirl pooled in the King’s mind, all centered on this man. Persistencia reacted with its ruler’s displeasure, blotting out the sun with a storm of clouds that rolled from every surrounding direction. Visibly shaken attendants drew the curtains of the great hall and lit enough candles to mimic the lost sun. All this movement while Edric stood, unwavering, staring into the red eyes of this visitor.

“Yours isnt a face I thought I’d ever see again, brother.” Edric’s tone was unlike anyone had heard him speak before. His childish wonder had been completely eclipsed by a seriousness that did not fit his bird-like voice. Not a word was uttered by a single subject, but each of their curiosities peeked at the word ’brother’.

“But in all my dreams and scraps of memories you seem to show up. Uninvited.”

[Nayt]

The court was unnerved. The palace became a hiding place for the meek-- people reduced to a mouse-like state, subdued and afraid. The man passed a glance to his left and to his right, observing the shaken movements and stares. It was as if Edric had total command over them.

But more importantly, the Rift King recognized him. That alone told the man great deals. Edric's memory was a fickle thing. Before, it changed with each day, as if his mind were simply starting anew each time he awoke. He thus failed to remember anyone. If he could remember him, recognize their relation, however loose it may have been, then that spoke worlds. Edric could remember everything.

Suddenly, this task became exponentially harder.

"Guess oI'm tough t'forge', huh?" He said, his lips now finally curling into a sad smile.

Beyond anyone else in the world, the King of the Rift had more reasons to remember-- and hate --this man. The deception of lucidity, after all, was one of the worst personal crimes in history . . .

[Mandaz]

“You are not welcome here.” The divine king stamped his foot like a child in tantrum. “This place is a sanctuary. You…You have no right to interfere with it!” Edric stepped forward to face his brother, removing his crown. “I don’t care why you came or how you got here. Just leave without any incident and I’ll forget about you again. Hah.”

The last words he said seemed to amuse the king enough to bring a smile to his anger wrinkled face. Little bursts of laughter flew from his mouth, easing the subjects around him. Soon, the entire throne room was beginning to fill with nervous giggles, all following the sudden burst of elation Edric had given off.

“I’ll forget you! If it were that easy haha! Do you dream anymore, brother? Hmm?”

Edric looked up to him, blue eyes wide and intense, swirling with a clarity no ocean in the created universe could rival. The laughing died down significantly as the winds of the island storm pushed the curtains into slowly swaying along the floor.

“I dream. Every night! I dream of the sky and paradise. And I dream of the fires of the under earth. I dream of happiness and health, then of pain and loss. I created this paradise to escape my nightmares. To forget, like the forgetfulness I’d been blessed with for all that time. And like my dreams, that bliss was taken away. Ripped out of me like the limbs I had ripped from my back. Remember, brother? You remember, right? I didn’t. Hahhaha. I didn’t know. Until I started dreaming. Then I’d see everything. Every night. And you know one of the faces that I see most often in those dreams? The eyes I can’t shake? The person staring at me through all of it? I bet you know! You always had the answers to everything!”

[Nayt]

The man's sad smile did not fade. This was a deserved response. From anyone else, maybe he'd have been put off and fought back, if only by a little, but he had no right to snap at Edric. He had no right to snap at anyone, actually. Not after what the world had gone through . . .

"Th'wrong answers," he replied, "Always th'wrong answers."

He could probably count the times he'd told the truth to someone on one hand. Then again, isn't that what he was supposed to be? Deceit personified? No, that wasn't it. That was just an excuse. He was chaos personified and nothing more. He'd merely become the grand deceiver of the world through practice alone.

The man withdrew his hands from his pockets. "Kick me ou', then. If tha's wha' y'wanna do. Deck me an' 'ave your men throw me ou'."

He raised his right hand and tapped his fingers against the right side of his jaw, all while making sure his face was clear and accessibly enough to the Rift King that, provided the want and will, he could punch the man in the face with all the vim, vigor, and righteousness he deserved.

"Y'go' more righ' to than anyone else in th'worl'."

[Mandaz]

“Hit you?”

Edric’s brow turned inward and his clenched hands eased. He brought them to his brother’s face and pulled his fingers down, holding the taller man’s chin. But his touch was not filled with malice or hatred. Edrics fingers were as gentle with his brothers face as they would be holding a newborn dove.

“Brother. Nothing I could do to you would ever amount to what your actions have done to me. I do not have lifetime’s worth of hatred in my hands. Hitting you would be useless. An empty gesture. And if you came seeking forgiveness by the sting of my hand then again, you are not welcome. I have hated you in my dreams. Your face was once the symbol of ruin. Not just for me, I think.”

He removed his hands and stood back. Rain could be heard pounding against the strong stone of the palace. The clouds had cut themselves open and poured an endless flood onto the island below. In the grand room, a woman servant in a far corner began to gasp and choke, weeping despite how hard she tried to hold herself back. Another joined her. Soon the room was filled with soft echoes of whimpering and sniffling, all while the King stared at his brother.

“And you ask me to hit you. Brother, pain begets pain. And I think we both have had enough of it.”

[Nayt]

He actually felt a slight sting of disappointment when Edric didn't throw a punch. He even felt a little uneasy when Edric proceeded to chastise him for the offer. The man dropped his hand away from his face, set his arms by his side again, and averted his eyes from Edric. For the first time in a long time, he chewed upon a ring on his lower lip. It was an old habit of nervousness he had back when he wasn't quite confident with his talents and job. Now, he wasn't quite confident in the task ahead of him.

"Then wha' migh' i'be tha' y'wan'?" asked the brother of Lucidity.

But even that might not have seemed sincere enough. That was the hard part. He was never an angel of sincerity. Quite the opposite, even. He could tell a lie with the utmost sincerity, but actually looking a man he'd hurt for years in the face and offering up his good will felt so foreign. It was, however, something he needed to do-- something he needed to get used to, even. All the people of this planet, whether they knew it or not, were affected by him. He couldn't look any of them in the face without acknowledging that.

So he reiterated, hoping to sound a bit more sincere:

"Wha' goo' will can I offer ya?"

[Mandaz]

Edric’s shoulders dropped a bit, the storm outside continuing to rage. This man had come before him seeking forgiveness for a crime the King believed to be unforgivable. The word ‘crime’ was barely uttered in his paradise, let alone committed. And yet he was asked to pass judgment on the very man that drove him to his madness. Despite the endless torment he suffered, despite being wrongly punished and driven to near death time and time again, despite the constant tearing of his body, mind and soul all brought forth by the very man before him--

“Edii”

--Edric could not turn away his brother. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The King of the Rift was a fidgety mess when being so serious and upset. He wasn’t used to wearing such emotions. Edric was a creature who relied on sensations to communicate, considering most of the time he or any of his subjects were too far gone to communicate with rational words. His emotional connection was laced through everyone in the Rift, creating an entire community of shared expression. But outsiders who were strong enough to resist were not a part of this connection. Despite Edric’s desire to feel his brother’s sincerity, he just couldn’t pass the millennia thick wall that was built between them. A wall built brick by brick with horrific memories.

“It’s hard for me to believe that you’re even capable of good will. You aren’t…a being that can bring good will to anyone. You never were.”

[Nayt]

Edii Terkins was sincerely surprised by Edric. Even a little hurt-- but Edric was not without the right to do that. Edii had left himself open, after all. Edric of all people deserved the right to do whatever damage to his brother as he may have liked, and if it was verbally, then so be it. It was just surprising that Edric was so damn good at it. Edii wished now that Edric had simply decked him in the face and called it good.

"Whew," Edii sighed and scratched the side of his face.

Were he a younger, less experienced man, he might have been a bit flushed right now. It'd been a long time since he'd taken a blow that harsh . . .

"Remin' m'no' t'leave m'self open li'e tha' 'roun' you again," he joked awkwardly.

It was a bad habit, cracking jokes whenever he felt particularly uncomfortable. It was supposed to lighten the mood. At least his own mood. But right now, he lightened up nothing up. Not himself, nor the world around him. Edric was probably right, after all. Edii Terkins may very well have been incapable of doing good will for anyone other than himself-- and even then, he did himself more disservices than anything else.

Adopting a more serious tone, Edii lifted his eyes to Edric's. "I done a lo'a bad things, yeah. An' I always sai' t'm'self, 'Edii, y'doin' th'righ' thing.' 'Cause I always 'ad th'bes' inten'." Edii opened his arms and projected his voice as if announcing some grand plan, "Save th' 'eavens! Assassina'e 'Zekiel an' preven' th'divine sepulcher!" He dropped his arms a few inches and lowered his voice some. "Free m'trapped brothers an' sisters! Organized th'worl' 'gainst the 'eavens!" He dropped his arms even lower, in turn losing the vibrancy in his voice, "See tha' I got nothin' t'offer the worl' an' anyone in it. Set'le down with a girl an' try t'live 'appy an' far from all th'shit I've fucked up." And then he dropped his arms to his sides as his voice fell nearly to a whisper, "An' then at las'-- try'an' save th'worl' from a god bent on layin' it t'waste."

Edii released a deep sigh. The way he frowned, sulked his shoulders, and tried to keep his head from dipping low would have said much to one versed in body language-- that Edii Terkins could acknowledge his colossal failures, and most of all, looked back on them with a guilty heart.

"So, yeah. Yer prolly righ'."

[Mandaz]

The storm raged. A distant thunderclap echoed over the ever growing waves of the sea. And Edric’s eyes, as things known to reflect his heart’s actions, nearly glowed with intensity as fierce as the clear waters that now raged around his island.

“They used to say the road to hell was paved with good intentions.” His words reverberated in his throat, and Edric could taste the echo on his tongue. “And you’ve placed every cobblestone on that road.”

He was crying. Edric’s emotions had twisted his reality. As he internally struggled with what to do about the hated man before him, his power upset the delicate hold he had on the region and all it’s people. His subjects had never seen their king so upset, not even when he suffered from his night terrors. They were filled with fear, confusion, and an unshakeable sadness. From the king’s swirling eyes flowed his sadness, dripping to the castle floor as the rain pounded its exterior.

“What do you want, brother? You come here asking what it is I want, but I’m…I’m more than curious to your dangerous intentions. Are you here to uproot the peace I’ve bestowed here? Or are you here to finish off what is left of Lucidity? Or…are you seeking forgiveness?”

[Nayt]

Edii furrowed his brow and checked once behind him--but alas, the doors to Lucidity's throne room were long since closed. He couldn't exactly see the storm outside, but he could certainly hear it. It was the sound of his route back to the mainland becoming extinct. Hopefully the sailors weren't in the ship. If they were . . .

Thousands of years of living had taught Edii much. One such lesson was to never take coincidence for granted. Edric was upset, his subjects were paralyzed with fear, and the island was hastily becoming the target of an otherwise unforeseen hurricane. Lucidity's emotions were bleeding out, infecting his subjects, infecting the castle, the land, and even the sea. This was more dangerous than Edii thought. He expected danger on his end. The Angel of Lucidity was a dangerous man. All the Fallen were. But he didn't think others would be endangered.

Edii Terkins was prepared only for his own death, not for the deaths of others.

"Brother," announced Deceit, his tone sullen and serious.

It was high time for some tranquility. If Edric kept this up-- kept going deeper and deeper into the pits of ill emotions --he was going to have everyone on this island killed. That wasn't something Edii could let happen. He already had enough blood on his hands--he didn't need the destruction of Persistencia added to that.

"Y'got t'calm down," he locked eyes with Lucidity, "Y'gonna tear this 'ole islan' t'hell if y'don't."

[Mandaz]

“You’ll answer me, brother!”

Edric swallowed the building vile taste in his mouth. He was losing his senses quickly to his boiling emotions, the strength of which the island relied upon. He could feel an awful headache throbbing in his skull, pushing more tears through his eyes.

“What are your intentions? Why did you come? How are you still alive?”

A rush of wind swirled through the main hall, removing the flames from the candles and chilling every inhabitant inside. The sound of distant toppling vases and flags being ripped by the wind grew in a chorus to mimic Edric’s demands. The king threw his hands to his head, clawing through his hair, hoping to rip out the source of his pain.

These memories.

Edric could no longer blink his tears away. His entire head felt paralyzed under the pressure losing his grip on the island. The old angel’s teeth clenched tight as he pushed air through them, trying to regain control. Control over his sanity, over the land, and over the constant replay of every painful memory involving Edii.

“Ezekiel will help her don’t don’t don’t don’t don’t let him brother. Help me..please…please brother. Don’t let him kill me. St-stop edii stop. No no no I wont give you more. Let go. LET GO.”

[Nayt]

Accentuating his shout with a whip of his arms out to his sides, Edii shouted loud enough for Lucidity to hear over the ensuing madness. "You're right, Edric!"

Edii's accent all but going to the wayside in a flash. With the sound of a the howling wind outside, he had to raise his voice to be heard. He had to do something. He had to say something. But he couldn't lie about it. He'd spent so long lying, it still felt like second nature to him--but he couldn't do that, not anymore. He resigned himself to deceive no more, and in the presence of the truth, express it . . . No matter how awful that truth might feel. And this one felt awful to him. It was what Edric may have wanted to hear and it was the honest to Gaia truth, but . . . just the very fact that he was here doing this twisted Edii's stomach into knots.

"You're right!" he reiterated.

He dropped his arms to his sides and hung his head and shoulders. There was now nothing he could do. He could have perhaps tried to physically stop Edric from tearing this island to pieces, but he knew it would've have worked. All he could do was issue that truth, no matter how badly he may have wanted to rephrase it earlier:

"I'm 'ere askin' for forgiveness," he finally said, his voice strained as though he were on the precipice of a sigh.