Sam didn't know what to say. None of us did.
"They're all dead."
Circe was gone. I let her go. She needed time to process. All of us did.
"The claw marks," he said. "The ones who chased us, they had-"
"I remember."
An awkward silence passed over us all.
"What are they?" I asked. Sam pursed his lips.
"Jari, the camp director, always said they were a cult of sorts. Sometimes, monsters aren't the only things that come out of Chaos. You get supernatural creatures, like Jari, and then you get-", he gulped, "-...them."
"Them?"
"I guess the closest approximation would be gods."
We know of them, the shadows said.
Sam winced.
They are the oldest and greatest amongst the beings that reside in Chaos. Kings of kings.
You're telling me that a cult did this? A cult that follows gods that live in Chaos? I asked.
The shadows didn't respond. I took that as a yes. I thought back to the name they'd mentioned.
"Abaddon?"
Sam pursed his lips again. He did that often. I wondered if every child of Chaos had habits like these two. Circe with her eyerolling and Sam with those lips of his (and before we go there, no. This is not a love story. Sort of).
"They call themselves the Zealots of Abaddon. It's said that he's the god of the wilds. You know, nature and all that?" He grimaced. "They're desperate to bring him out of Chaos into the human world. Not that Chaos would ever allow that. Not when it can draw on his power to sustain itself."
I nodded, calling upon a decade of horror movie-watching to come to my next conclusion.
"They sacrifice children of chaos to do that?"
"That's the gist of it. They were the first witch-hunters. Used it as a cover for their activities." Sam explained, pursing his lips (how many times do I have to type that?). "Abaddon hates humans and what they've done to the natural order. If he gets free-"
"But that won't happen, right? You said it yourself, Chaos won't let it happen."
He shook his head.
"Chaos won't let it happen because the payoff of keeping him there is better than letting him loose. That was when Nature had a stronger presence. Abaddon being out there now, in a world where Nature isn't as powerful? Imagine the anarchy Wanda."
I was imagining it alright.
"Chaos feeds on darkness. On despair and fear. Letting a nature god into the modern world is the equivalent of a thunderstorm with blood instead of water. It just makes Chaos stronger. And then you have the sacrifices."
I was beginning to catch on. "The sacrifices. They make him stronger. Strong enough to break out of Chaos himself?"
"Not even Chaos will be able to stop him then. He'll destroy civilization and return humanity to when we were nothing more than animals."
"So he won't change much?" I joked. He glared.
"This isn't something to joke about Wanda."
"Just trying to lighten the mood." I said, already wishing Circe was here. He sighed.
"This is serious, okay? Imagine being thrust back into a time before peace and prosperity. Imagine us all, throwing human compassion out the window and fighting it out. Imagine war. Imagine famine and suffering. Then multiply it tenfold.
"That is the world that awaits us if Abaddon gets free. We need to stop him."
That caught my attention.
"I'm sorry, we? You can't possibly be thinking-"
"It's exactly what I'm thinking," Sam stated. "We need to destroy the Zealots, before the Zealots destroy us."
***
What was it with these guys and overdramatic final sentences?
I suppose it was effective, considering the fact that the moment he said it I walked away. The lake stood before me, the surface calm and unyielding. I hated the ease with which it lay there, as if loudly proclaiming: "My Zen is infinite and absolute."
Sometimes I wished I could turn into a lake too. Just for a few minutes.
I regarded the perfection of its surface with unguarded envy. Anger swelled in my heart as I dived through, breaking past the fragility of calm to reveal the true chaos underneath.
What do I do?
I felt the shadows weave around me, forming a protective barrier that I didn't want. It felt too much like a cage. Too much like the cage I already had. The cage that had formed around me the moment Sam had said "we".
If Abaddon gets free, all of us will be at risk.
I knew that. That didn't mean I was willing to fight a war!
A war needs an army. It needs fighters. We had nothing.
They killed your father.
And I wanted revenge more than anything. But that didn't mean fighting a losing battle.
What makes you think you'll lose?
My lack of power, for instance? Or maybe the fact that the power I had was something I couldn't control?
Can't you?
"I can't," I whispered. "I'm not strong enough."
Who said that? You, or your mother?
"My mother was a great woman!"
A woman who made you hate yourself. A woman who taught her daughter to hide rather than to seek her power. A woman who raised a daughter unwilling to hurt those who hurt her.
"A woman who raised her daughter to be good," I muttered. "A woman who taught her daughter to hide the darkest parts of herself."
A woman who forced you into submission.
"No...you're wrong."
Then prove it.
"I-"
I couldn't.
We thought as much.
"I can't fight this war." I told them.
We don't expect you to do anything you don't want to. We only expect you to make choices out of strength, not fear.
"And yet the choice of strength is obvious."
Is it? It takes strength to know when to fight, but also when to retreat. A commander who never backs down, who is never willing to stop and think, is weak. A commander who runs from every battle, and yet wins the war, is strong.
"But what if I can't win the battle or the war?"
Then you'll die trying. You'll die a hero.
"I don't want to be a hero."
Then don't be. Just be strong. Be smart. And above all, never be afraid.
With that, they left. The shadows continued to turn and twist around me as I kicked my legs up.
I surfaced to find Circe standing on the shore, eyes prowling the waters until they landed on me. She didn't get up. She just watched, waiting. Waiting for me to choose. The whole world seemed to be standing still at that moment.
I took a deep breath, and made my choice.
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