The couch is comfortable and familiar. The sounds coming from the television are loud yet soothing. It’s all what he knows and wants to hold close— these little moments that break up his normal days. More than that is the teen next to him. Zye sits there, watching the character maneuver across the screen only to fall into the pit after missing a jump.
For a second he feels just like that. He can’t seem to get over the gap in his mind. There are too many thoughts swirling around. Too many emotions that choke him up and put pressure on his chest.
“Zye?”
He turns his head. The sight of a pouting Xerxes has Zye letting out a small laugh. “What’s wrong?”
“I…can you do it?” he asks softly while holding out the controller for Zye to take.
But he only shakes his head. “I can tell you how. I know you can do it and better than I did. It took me forever to get the hang of it and you almost had it that last time.”
Slender fingers grip hard at the controller as he holds it back in his hands, letting it rest on his lap. It prompts Zye to reach over, tussling Xerxes’s hair.
“Don’t worry. If you can’t, I got your back.”
There’s a small moment of silence as the continue screen remains on the television. Xerxes’s voice is small as he stares down at his hands. “I…I wish you were my brother instead.”
“H-hey! Don’t say that.” Zye lets his hand slip down to land on Xerxes’s shoulder. “Aisa really cares about you. Besides, I can still be there for you and be a brother to you. Right?”
“Yeah…Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Having someone younger around gives me energy anyway. But next time just come over and I’ll help you study for that math test. Used to be my best subject.”
Xerxes nods. A smile lights up his face as he focuses back on the game. All the while Zye watches him. The youth nails the mechanics on the next try and turns to Zye with a grin. “I-I did it!”
“Of course you did!” Zye claps him on the back with a laugh. “See? I told you, you could do it.”
Yet even as he does this, his vision is growing fuzzy. The surroundings drain of their color and grow dark. A blink of an eye and it’s all gone. Replacing it is a dark red rug that’s seen better years. To the side is a thick glass table held up with scoffed wrought iron legs.
Zye looks up as a rolled-up paper ball hits him on the forehead. For a moment he holds it, staring at it. There’s a piece in the back of his mind that’s confused. To go from Xerxes to so far back in time. To be thirteen again with little care in the world. To a time he thought he was invincible.
“Hey…” Zye starts slowly while flicking the ball back toward Shae. The words tumble from his lips despite knowing he’s asked it before. “Do you ever…see things? In the dark?”
Shae raises a brow. He rolls the ball beneath his palm, squishing it against the carpet as he thinks. “Uh…I can’t see in the dark. So, no?”
“N-no I mean…It’s darker than the dark.”
A rich, vibrant laugh echoes around Zye. It’s not cruel. A laugh that’s trying to ease down the subject and give some warmth to it. “You don’t even like scary movies but you say that?” Shae smiles up at Zye while he lies on his stomach. “How about I just hide in the darkness? That way when something pops out at you it’s just me. Then you won’t be afraid.”
“I never said I was afraid!”
“Sounded like it to me, scaredy cat.” Shae sticks out his tongue at Zye.
“You’re such an idiot.”
Shae angles another ball of paper on his palm and flicks it back toward Zye. As it gets close, he can’t help but close his eyes. The instinct has him regretting he did so. The fuzzy memories are replaced with nothing but pitch blackness all around him.
Looking down, he finds himself standing atop the water. Ripples splay out over the surface without him moving. Each ripple is like a pulse, mimicking the dimmed light that’s just beneath the surface. It reminds him of a heartbeat. One that grows stronger with each thump in his ears.
The bright orange glow shines more and more as he takes a step forward. He doesn’t know where he’s going. He has the urge to move. He feels as though if he doesn’t he’ll lose whatever is so close beneath the surface.
There are whispers all around him. They’re too faint to make out. Much like the images that dance through his mind; shattered, frayed, and faded.
He can see long hair and soft laughter as a hand brushes against his back. It urges him on yet he can’t find the strength to take another step. Not when he hears it, a soft chuckle and words that resonate so deeply in his soul.
“Even if you stop feeling for me…there’s always going to be a piece of me that’s going to love you— love you for forever and more.”
Zye’s knees buckle. Ripples turn to small waves as he crashes against the water’s surface, yet not through it. He clutches at his chest, fingers digging hard against the material of his shirt. Air won’t go in and for a moment it feels as though his heart is going to burst.
Tears stream down his cheeks. Each droplet that falls from his jaw hits the water at his knees. It draws his attention and hooks him so deeply that suddenly breathing isn’t his biggest worry. The concern goes to the fact he can’t reach the light.
His right hand pushes against the water. It resists him, repels him, and tries to make him stop. Not that he will. Little by little it gives way until he submerges his arm up to his elbow.
Warmth.
No.
Heat surges up through his arm. It’s not uncomfortable like boiling water. It’s like soaking in water that’s been warmed so perfectly by the sun.
Needy fingers try to grasp for the orange glow. The closer he gets to it, the sharper the feeling in his chest becomes. For a moment it feels like he’s grabbing onto someone’s hand. Calloused fingers push against his and hold on tight. Even so, there’s a gentle squeeze over his knuckles that turn white from how he clutches onto this memory.
“Zye…look at me, it’ll be okay. I’m here.”
He can’t stop himself. He has to tilt his head up in a desperate desire to know the source of this voice. Except, the second he does he’s blinded with a flash of gray and white that rips it all out of his grasp.
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34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmrl4MBouCV
Jolting up out of bed, there’s only fear and anger that comes to mind first. His eyes are open wide and there’s a heaviness in his chest.
Why couldn’t he hold on tighter?
Why couldn’t he cling to that memory and stay there?
The frustration only wells up further when he realizes he’s not in his room. There’s nothing about it that’s similar to his own save for the simple bed he sits on being a bed. He kicks back the white blanket over his legs, looking—inspecting— every part of his body.
Nothing seems broken or missing.
At least, not physically.
Zye doesn’t know how he got here or why. All he does know is this place reminds him so much of a hospital. Sterile walls and ceilings with nothing in the room but him. That is until he looks at the floor to see dark blue tile with white and yellow specks peppered throughout.
Everything else feels so empty. Another glance down shows he’s not much different in that regard. White shorts that reach past his knees and a sleeveless top to match. It’s like a fresh start…
A clean slate.
Dragging a hand up over his face, Zye slicks his hair back. There’s irritation settling in again. It stabs at the walls of his mind and reminds him that something is wrong. This isn’t home and it’s not anywhere he can remember going. Besides, if he was somewhere then surely that person would be here. Shae would be, too. There’s no way either man would have left him alone if he had gotten hurt.
The resounding of that deep voice is all he can cling onto as he tries to stand. When his legs don’t give out and no alarms go off, he feels a bit bolder. After all, there’s no sense in sitting around and waiting for things. He doesn’t have time for that— never has.
Zye goes straight for the only door in the room. If anything, he just wants to get out of such a suffocating place to start. What he doesn’t expect is to leave one plain room to come into another, albeit the fact that it’s larger. There’s a half-circle bed pressed up against the wall in the corner if he looks to his right. There’s a plethora of pillows sat atop it and pushed against the walls.
To match the eggshell-colored bedding is a rather plush white rug at his left. The oval-shaped material sits beneath thin curtains of the deepest navy blue attached to a large archway. If he looks close enough they appear to be semi-transparent.
What concerns him the most is the thing standing in front of his, seemingly, only way out. It’s a door out versus a curtain. The only problem is the thing in front of him being so…off-putting. To Zye, it’s about the size of a teenager. An average one at that, not like how he was— shooting through growth spurts like it was a competition.
There are two beady black eyes, so small and close together, despite no nose or mouth in sight. It’s pure white at that save for the black infinity symbol on its neck.
He doesn’t feel threatened by it in the slightest, just unnerved.
It doesn’t blink let alone move. It just stands there before the door as if it’s guarding it.
“Hey, you there.”
No reaction whatsoever.
Zye huffs, “Seriously? What are you a mannequin?”
Two steps away from the door he came out of and the thing copies him. Grimacing at that, he moves forward again. Except this time it steps to the side and narrowly dodges away from getting hit by the door opening.
The man that enters is strangely human. Considering Zye was expecting something freaky, this is a breath of fresh air. The second the door shuts behind him, the man turns his attention to Zye.
His eyes are such a soft shade of green, yet they burn so brightly. They’re familiar to say the least without Zye quite knowing why. A tickle of a memory at the sight of pale, almost white, blue hair that’s cut short around a slender face.
A green jacket, with a white fluff around the hems and hood, is draped over the man’s arm. His clothes are simple; a black t-shirt, matching pants held up by a belt, and boots that match it while reaching up to his mid-thighs. The only odd thing is his black gloves. The right stops at his wrist. The left goes to his elbow.
“So, are you in charge of that thing? ‘Cause, they’re a little…strange.”
“That’s a Mark and until you’re settled in, it’ll be here in case you need me.”
Zye narrows his eyes at the shorter man. He watches him step forward, to which Zye stands still. Refusing to budge or back down without answers. Otherwise, he knows he can run. Right?
“And why would I need you?”
“Because you are under my protection now. Until you can call for me yourself—”
“Who are you? And where are we?”
“Haa…right. My name is Orion. We’re in Noctis and until you’ve recovered—”
“I don’t know any place like that. Try again.”
“If you’d quit interrupting me and calm down, I’d be able to tell you I’ll explain things later. For now, relax and I’ll be back after I take care of something.”
Zye marches forward until his bare feet are touching up against the toes of Orion’s boots. He’s surprised when Orion doesn’t move out of the way. Most people would— not wanting to cross paths with him. “I’m fine, now move.”
Orion lifts a hand, pressing his palm against Zye’s stomach. “You really should—”
Irritated as it is, Zye swats the arm away and shoulders past him. It’s not hard. The man sways as he’s shoved to the side only to spin around. The second Zye’s hand touches the handle, he can’t move. Fingers twitch but he can’t make himself press down on the silver metal without pain burning through him.
The faintest, almost transparent, strings wrap around his wrist. Trying to move his legs proves they’re around his ankles as well. Slowly, his wrist is tugged away from the door until it’s back at his side.
There’s a level of panic that’s thrumming in his chest.
This isn’t normal. Nothing about it is and he doesn’t know what to do. Punching and bullshitting his way through life was easy compared to whatever he’s got on his plate now.
Zye glances up and down, looking for anything that the strings could be coming from. Perhaps he stepped into a trap?
“I assure you this is all real. Try and tell me what you remember last before you woke up? What happened?”
“The hell does that have to do with anything? Let me go or I’ll—”
“You have no power here in my domain. You’ll listen and be compliant. When I return later, I’ll walk you through the rest of what you need to know. Now, answer my question.”
“I was home waiting for…dammit…what was his name?”
Orion moves around to where he leans against the wall next to the door. One of his hands is clenched into a fist. He gives a flick of his other wrist and it has strings appearing from around his fingers. They snap out and curl around Zye’s free hand as he tries to lift it.
It only pisses him off more to be restrained and unable to remember everything. It’s foggy, unclear, and disoriented. Still, despite not caring for this man’s methods, he tries to recall. A glance down to his toes and it hits him.
Being outside…trying so hard to get back in…and that thing that hovered over him.
He meets Orion’s eyes and the man holds his gaze. It’s clear yet guarded, giving nothing away as he begins to speak so matter-of-factly.
“You died to a Nether. After I cleansed it, you asked to live and I granted your wish.”
Zye can feel it in his gut. Something is off, he just doesn’t know what. There are so many holes in what he can only assume is the last year that he wants to scream. The worst part of it all is…he’s dead?
“Then where am I?”
“Noctis. Ah, it’s what you mortals call an in-between realm. Not quite life. Not quite death.”
“Purgatory? The hell…what…am I stuck here? Do I go back? I have friends and family!”
Orion shakes his head. “Everyone does. That doesn’t make you special. What does is that you’re here for now. If you’ll relax until I return, I’ll explain things further.”
Zye tugs against the restraints. No matter how he tugs or pulls, he can’t make any part of his body budge. It’s frustrating. Even more so when they don’t even hurt. It’s just tight and uncomfortable.
“And I just stay here like this? How do I know you didn’t kidnap me, huh?”
“You’re already such a handful.” Orion relaxes his hands and the strings all vanish. To the point where Zye stumbles back a couple of steps. “I have an emergency to attend to. Be good and stay here.”
He doesn’t fight it— doesn’t argue or try to start anything. He’s not stupid. Let the strange man slip back out the door. All he has to do is wait long enough for him to have gone away.
This time when Zye grabs the handle he’s relieved nothing happens. A nervous laugh to himself, he glances over at the Mark. It stands there, ominously so.
“Maybe you should run away, too.”
Opening the door and stepping outside of the room is far less dramatic than he expects. No sound goes off or traps to ensnare him. There’s only quiet and emptiness. Not a person is in sight, at least not yet. He takes small strides down this short hallway until he’s at the mouth of it, back to the wall and a quiet panic surges through him.
The room he’s met with is gorgeous.
It’s as if the floor is made from gold with how the light makes it sparkle. Then again, it’s even brighter with the dark blue of the walls. It looks like someone took pictures of space and made the walls out of it; galaxies, planets, clusters of stars, and everything in between.
The hallway he’s in is to one point of the large room. From there he can see three others much like this one— each one in a different cardinal direction. What truly catches his eye is the large staircase in the middle of it all. Not only do the ornate silver stairs wind up into the ceiling, but it also appears to go down.
Next to the opening of this staircase is a mirror. It captures his attention immediately from how it seems to float above the ground. It doesn’t fall or turn— it’s simply there. The frame mimics the metal of the stairs.
Not that he has time for that. His only goal is to get out of here— to get home to Shae and…and whoever else he can’t remember. The memories are slipping through his fingers each time he tries to grasp onto them. It only gives him more reason to step out of the corridor.
There’s no one around that he can see and no sure-fire way out. Yet, he has a sinking feeling about that staircase. Going down or up surely would do him in. Then again…what if he’s underground?
Zye sets his teeth, nearly grinding them as he slowly moves forward. He decides to move around the right side of the staircase. It’s best to keep his distance from that freaky mirror. When he reaches it, he places his hand on the railing and peers over it. The steps descend down into a dimly lit spiral.
“Well, not going down there.”
“As you shouldn’t.”
He spins around, hands clutching onto the rail behind him as he keeps his back to it. The last thing he expects is to see two young women. They hardly look threatening, but he also knows looks are deceiving. The shorter of the two smiles and steps forward, holding out her hand to him.
It’s not that he thinks she’d do anything. Although, part of him wouldn’t put it past anyone here at this rate. It’s the fact that she’s nothing like he’s seen before. She seems to be wearing a sundress of sorts. A simple, blue material that flutters about her as she comes to a stop before him.
Something his mother would have worn if it had come in pink.
The most distracting part is the ears atop her head. Almost like a cat’s ears with short curly hair that they peak out of. They match the shade; pink that fades down into blonde. Not to mention the tail that gently sweeps from side to side behind her legs.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Iris.”
Extending his hand, he takes hers in his. A gentle shake before he straightens back up. “Zye.”
“Iris, we don’t have time for this. You can get acquainted later.”
The cold, almost empty sounding, voice turns his attention to the other woman. She wears a purple gown that fades into the pink his mother would love. Little stars hang from the bottom and jingle with each step, much like the silver anklet on her left.
Much like Iris, her hair is dual-toned as well. The strands that fall to her shoulders, including the small braid next to her right eye, are pale blonde. The longer hair that’s tied into a braid going past her knees is a pastel blue. A blue that matches her right eye while the other eye, a light orange, matches the shirt beneath her dress and the band around her waist.
“But, shouldn’t he be with Orion?” Iris turns her gaze from the other woman to Zye. “Do you know where he is?”
“I…he, uh, said to look around until he got back.”
“Not a very good liar are you?”
Iris’s smile never fades, “Vespera, shouldn’t we help first?”
Lips, painted in a soft pink color, quirk down into a frown. If one looks closer they’d see a light dusting of freckles as well as a blush over her cheeks. “No, we don’t have time. And you,” she turns to Zye but it’s as if she’s looking through him, “don’t think of entering any of these hallways. The rooms are off-limits to you.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Without permission, you can’t enter any of our rooms. Upstairs is one of them as well. Downstairs, once more, isn’t for you either.” She turns away, the dress blossoming around her as she moves. “Iris, come.”
He wants to ask how she plans to leave if there’s no exit and just rooms. Except he doesn’t have to. From the floor before her springs forth a surge of energy in the shape of an oval doorway. If doors were made of the night sky, anyway. The edges let off little wisps of what he’d say is smoke if he had to give it a term. In the next instance, they’re stepping into it and they’re gone. Before he can even think of hurrying after them, this “doorway” dissipates.
“What the hell is going on…” he wonders to himself.
A girl with mix-matched eyes that has such an unnatural color. Another with animal ears and a tail. Not to mention the man with that strange power.
Zye doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what anyone would tell him to do either. Not when there’s so much he doesn’t remember. The gaps are painful when there’s a feeling of guilt settling in above all the other conflicting emotions. Specifically the one of heartbreak that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
He walks around the staircase. A glance to the landing that leads down and he moves on. There’s no sense in bothering with that yet. The mirror, however, is what pulls him past the stairs leading up. He can’t deny that there’s something about it. Something that draws him in and tells him to touch it despite trying to steer clear of it in the first place.
Fingers twitch at his sides.
He wants to give in to that unknown desire. Even more so when he sees the murky surface of the mirror.
There’s no reflection.
In fact, it looks like it’s displaying a night sky much like the walls around him. The only thing that has it resembling a mirror is the glint off the surface if he tilts his head. It’s reason enough to follow that want and press his palm flush up against the surface.
Zye almost flinches away from how cold it is. To the point where he swears he has goosebumps peppering his arms. However, the longer he keeps his hand there the warmer it gets. It spreads from his palm and up each finger. Almost as if he could sink it into sand that’s been warmed all morning by an eager sun.
“I’d be careful with that.”
Snapping his hand away and spinning around, he comes face to face with another woman. Although, she’s much different than the other two between her height and build alone. She looks fit with ample cleavage viewable from the diamond-shaped cutout in the center of her top. A top that has no sleeves and ends just above her belly button with the back going down in two twin tails.
She’s practically naked compared to the other two between the shorts that hug the tops of her thighs and the heels with their little straps around her ankles. Bangs frame her face with the much longer strands held up in a ponytail behind her. It’s a beautiful color, he can’t tell if it’s a blue, purple, or just a mix between the two.
“What?” he asks while trying to level his gaze with her amber eyes.
“I said, I’d be careful. That’s a little dangerous to touch. Even the rest of us Keepers don’t unless we need to get to a place we haven’t been to. Only the Celestials do since they’re the ones that can hear the orders that come through it, not us lower…you have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”
“I could lie and say yes.”
She laughs and gives a wave of her hand. A hand that ends up on her hip, purple nails brushing over the even darker purple material they’re against. “Good answer. You’ll be more fun than the rest of these stuck-ups. Have you met anyone else? Oh, right. My name’s Ilista.”
“Zye and yes? There was the guy, Orion, and then the two girls—”
“Vespera and Iris?” she cuts in to which he nods. “Lucky you. I’m sure they weren’t helpful. Iris is sweet but Ves is…well she does her own thing. Better to run into them than stupid Aster and his obnoxious ass.”
“Not to be mean, but I really don’t care. I just want to go home.”
The smile on her countenance falls at that. “He really hasn’t told you anything? You do know you’ve died, right?”
“And if I’m still, well, this,” he gestures to himself, “then I should be able to go home.”
“That’s…not how this works. Your soul comes here and you can either stay or move on. There’s no going back.”
Glaring at the floor is better than doing it at her. He hates the yellow color and how his toes curl against the cold tiles. He hates everything about this— not being in control is agonizing. Not having whoever that person is at his side is only making this worse.
It makes him feel like a little kid that just wants to sit down and scream for their mother.
“I can’t go home, ever?”
Ilista steps forward and presses a hand to his shoulder. “Yes and no. It’s complicated. But it’s also easier to show than try to explain all of this. And I’m sure he will once he gets back. He’ll break it down and take you out to train.”
It’s all so much at once.
“And, hey, if you ever need to get away. You can come see me, okay?”
He looks up at that and follows where she points, straight down the hallway opposite of the mirror.
“I’ll have it where you can come in any time, alright? The only catch is you have to tell me all about where you came from. Now I’d love to stick around, but I have to run.”
“Sure.”
“Maybe go back and wait for him in the meantime?”
Zye doesn’t trust himself to speak. His throat feels like it’s burning and itching from the way he pushes more of his feelings down. Shedding anything in front of this strange woman will get him nowhere. So he nods and turns away, stepping away from the friendly hand that had been on his shoulder.
There’s no sense in checking to see if she’s still there or gone on to whatever she’s doing. He simply does as he’s told and goes back to Orion’s room. The door opens with ease. The Mark is still standing in the corner where he left it.
As he lets the door swing shut behind him, it sinks in.
There are no doors out. He’s been told he’s dead and he has no idea what’s really going on. Worse yet is when he thinks of Shae there seems to be two others that he should recall. It’s as if someone took a marker to his memories, blacking out and cutting away anything that had them in it. Whole days to weeks to months are just missing.
His feet can only take him so far. At the bed, he doesn’t even sit down on it. Instead, he sinks to the floor and draws his knees up. Wrapping his arms around them, he holds on tight as the thoughts rush through him.
Zye wants so bad to know if Shae and Kass are okay. He’s sure Xerxes will be devastated and disappointed that he doesn’t show up. Is everyone going to forget him? Are they worried? Do they miss him as much as he misses them right now?
Whatever part of his heart that wasn’t lonely before he closed his eyes that night certainly is now. He doesn’t know anyone here. He doesn’t trust anyone here. Not like how he did them. And they’re not here. Probably won’t ever be and two of them he can’t remember to begin with.
Tears well up but he refuses to let them leave. He keeps them locked behind watery eyes and gritted teeth. All he can think about is the fact that there has to be a way out of this. There’s no way he’s been chosen for anything, not someone that’s only been on his way to nowhere. He’s a nobody. No one special with nothing special about him.
Leaning his head on his knees, he pauses only for a moment.
Moments like these were always accompanied by the painful beat of his heart in his ears. It would thud so loud that it would help deter him from thinking about how he’s drowning in his mind.
But there’s no sound now.
There’s no comforting pulse beneath his skin that only gets worse as the feelings get stronger.
It’s silent and still…
…like the dead.
ns 15.158.61.7da2
