Redemption

 “I trusted you and you used it! You cannot just show up for apology! I hate you now, and I want you get lost!”

“Rexom, calm down. It’s not like you. You have never shouted.”

“And what?! You thought I don’t feel anything?! Just a stupid piece of things?! Would I had given my everything had I felt nothing?!” 

“I made a mistake, look, I am here to compensate, I cannot even sleep. You have changed... so much...”

“Bye Maklevien, get the damn out of here. It’s over.”

Waking up in his chamber again, on the same old pallet, with the same hearth burning in a deep ruby colour; sooner than he was wholly transferred from the dream to reality, his eyes were looking for Rexom on her now empty chair next to the fireplace. 

“Idiot,” he mumbled with a hand covering his face. “How many times till I learn that she is gone?” 

He peeked outside through the corner of the curtain beside his bed, there was nothing to see but darkness further the window; he tried to bury the subtle fear crawling deep in his guts. Pathetic emotions were better while ignored. 

He got off the bed and walked to sit on the mahogany chair; her memories rushed in again. She never ate, never slept. Every time he had woken up, her grey eyes sparkling under the influence of fire shifted on him, and a smile engraved on her face in slow motion, he could see and feel the muscles moving, dry enough, but then deep emotions flowed out like a cloudy day suddenly exposing the sun. She was odd, abnormal, often plain as a rock but with as many layers as he could not fully discover in his lifetime, at the same time. 

A memory drowned him in.

“What was it?” She once had asked him, from the same chair, after his disturbed slumber. 

“Not the usual,” he said sitting on the pallet. “A new one.”

“What was it, then?” 

How can a tone so warm be so dead, he reflected. “You were gone, you were dead.” 

She snickered. “Are you expecting that?”

He took a while to contemplate. “I might be afraid of it.” 

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything while I was here.” Her facial gesture was serious, almost worried. 

“Is that even a good thing?” 

“I don’t want you weak, Maklevien.” She looked back at the fire. “I am nothing but a tool for you to be greater than you already are. You do not depend on me, people see you as opaque, eerie; let your legacy survive.” 

“What if they are wrong? What if my turn has passed?” 

She didn’t flinch as he had expected. “Yesterday’s mission great accomplishment thought it was, has impacted you. I should not forget that you are mortal after all, you bend to emotions.” She paused, still gazing the fire. “Go back to sleep now. We need you sober tomorrow.”

How bittersweet. She had had little to no self worth, meanwhile putting him on a pedestal. On the flipside of that, he felt less than her, even when it came to humbleness. He felt unsafe. He had given up on the dream of removal of Valashi since she had left off. Technically, he had left her first, and he had beaten himself up for that maybe more than necessary if he consulted with someone rational. Because more than anything, he felt guilt. 

***

Darkness always had a terror about it. He couldn’t exactly come up with ‘why’, maybe for mere reason that he couldn’t see in it; it was unknown. Anything could be out there. But more likely, it was his own imagination creating the exact things he feared. When there was nothing to see, different ideas spread out of his head. But the reason those horrifying ideas took place in his mind in the first place was the things he had witnessed; how could he forget the hanging portraits on the walls of underground. There were the most ferocious creatures in the heart of utter blackness, things he could not even imagine.

A breeze caused his hair to annoy his eyes, he was on the main deck of a ship, hand gripped at the taff-rail. A cruiser big enough to survive these tides. He could only hear the waves, the keel splashing the water, but didn’t have the pleasure of watching them. The weather was a good kind of cold, and besides the hull of the ship struggling with the ocean there was nothing else audible.

“You might think I am superstitious,” a thick voice declared, “but you can freeze watching that nothingness, forever.” 

Maklevien looked at his right, through the dim red light of kerosenes  attached at various parts of the ship, he could recognize the captain of the cruiser standing on the corner of quarterdeck, right at the top of the stairs.

“I have seen it happening,” the captain whispered. 

“I am sure you have seen many things captain,” Maklevien replied. “But the nature of us mortals should be quite refreshing for you.” His voice came out so clean in this environment. 

“Besides me and Loopy, you are the only one daring to stand outside.” He groaned as he stepped down the stairs, it was annoying. “Last one who asked me to get him there, was 300 years ago, and he never returned. You are a brave one.” 

“Or maybe just out of my mind,” Mak replied. 

“What are you looking for anyways, Maklevien the Shadow?” He asked while getting closer.

“It’s not professional of you to ask.”

“But what if you never return?” He was standing next to him at this moment. 

“Then my secrets die with me, as the Shadow I am.”

The captain chuckled in a way like it bothered his body to. He had a dead vibe to himself, but his movements showed off energy. “Is this about love?” 

Maklevien stared at him. 

“Not so secret after all.”

“Who knows?” Maklevien’s tone definitely conveyed anxiety.  

“No one, but I want to know.”

“It’s about guilt.” A brief moment to ponder. “Darkest hair you can imagine, grey sparkly eyes, pale face, slim tall figure, black clothes. You get confused between evil and innocence by looking at her. Immortal. Have you seen her?” 

“Fortunately, no.” 

“She is there,” Maklevien looked left, where the ship was supposedly moving. “Hurt. Isolated at the edge of the word, locking herself up to avoid potential hurting of people. I want to fix her.” 

“What is your plan for fixing an immortal? ” Captain sounded cautious, “if she is corrupted to the point that she can hurt people?” 

"She is capable of anything,” Mak said. “And I corrupted her.” 

Five red dots appeared at the dark sky of the horizon, ahead of the ship. They had a shimmering effect, torches most probably. Big ones. The third one was at the top of the other four, the first and the fifth were at the middle, and the second and fourth at the bottom of their linear shape. 

“That’s the farthest we can take you, Shadow.” 

The boat settled down the ship on the water by two ropes at the ends of it. Maklevien’s mission was clear, paddle for the torches. To his luck, the water was calm. Or maybe the waves were never high around the island. The Dark island it was called. Maklevien had heard a lot of stories about it, but he was old enough now to not believe his ears. Shadow, as they called him, was afraid of darkness itself. How pathetic. Paddle coward, you can’t see anything but maybe that’s good for you. Maybe there are things around you that you better off not knowing about. His fear could make him overthink such things, or make his ears delusional on few occasions. He paddled though. And once he was close to land, he could see it, he could finally see something after that never-ending darkness in the boat. 

He stepped on the shore, a visible environment without a specific source of light, it wasn’t really light but like a reflection of moon at midnight; nevertheless right in front was the huge castle, its peak hidden in the sky, with stairs leading to the gate, so large like they were built by giants. The gate was open, maybe waiting for him. There was nothing around but bare land, it wasn’t cold, wasn’t warm. Nothing audible again, besides the waves washing the edge of the island. 

The castle, as he stepped up the stairs, had shorter rectangular towers on both sides, and the walls were black with no gaps or lines on them. The stairs were big for his size, thus a struggle for his legs with every step. After a long physical journey of going up, there was a stone surface leading to the huge gate.  The other side of the gate became more and more visible the further he went. It was a corridor with torches burning on both sides, leading to a hall. The hall as everything else, was huge, with a carpet between columns leading to a sheen throne, intricate murals around it. Inside was dim, cold, and silent like a grave. 

Rexom’s voice echoed. “You broke my expectations, twice now.” 

He flinched, exploring around. When he eyed back the throne, she was there, one knee on another, eyes down on her nails. 

But she wasn’t there right now. Make mumbled. 

“I know I shouldn’t have come here.” He said. ”But I am here to...”

“Not for apology,” Rexom interrupted, “again. Keep your dignity.” 

“No,” he said. “Not this time.”

“What for, then? I am going to kill you this time.” 

“Kill me.”

Rexom finally deemed to look at him. He looked back at her eyes, which were sparkly even from the distance. 

“If you want to I will go on missions by myself,” he said. “That’s the same as this, suicide.”

“You are seeking my attention, you manipulator.” Rexom groaned. “You think I will pity you.”

“Killing myself in my own hands would have left you feeling empty. I used you and hurt you, have your revenge.” 

Rexom grimaced. 

“I feel your anger.” He said. “Unleash your inner monster.” 

A muffled howl. The floor trembled. He didn’t break the eye contact. 

The sound of the creature was getting louder, until it thumped outside the hall behind him, and shrilled raucously. 

“Take your last breaths,” said Rexom. “The Shadow.”

 He looked behind, a monstrous creature outside was coming to him, barely fitting the corridor. It walked on two short legs with wings, had a long face and teeth. The creature was dark like it absorbed the light around and radiated shadow instead, like a black aura. Mak stood still while it stepped into the hall, and increased its pace. He closed his eyes as the creature pounded his body. A burning sensation raided his skin; no gravity, darkness. Utter darkness. Trying was in vain, everything was forgotten. 

When he opened his eyes, his vision was blur. He didn’t feel any pain, he didn’t feel anything. Tried to move his hand, but it felt like there wasn’t any hand. The room was shiny and lavish compared to the chamber he had. He tried to look around, but he could somehow see every part of the room without moving his head. And then, he could see himself, laying on a fancy bed. Rexom’s face popped up in front of him and disrupted the out of body experience he had. Her face looked majestic, unlike the near-death vibe she always had. Her face moved a lot. She caressed on his vision, and whispered, “sleep darling. No need to wake up again."

He didn’t wake up again.