Returning to No Applause, Only More of the Same

Before even a single person in the room could react, he reached out and grabbed a firm hold of Frank’s neck. The frog-man was then lifted up, and as his mind and heart raced, trying desperately to figure out some sort of spell that could save him, Kreig eliminated the need for it by forcing eye-contact with him.

Slumber (X)

Frank slumped over. If it hadn’t been for his soft snoring, all members present would have assumed that he had perished.

“Imate Wiedemann, what the hell did you do to him?!” Even then, a certain observer did need his answers. Though he was thoroughly ignored. Instead of answering the scientist, Kreig turned to his brother and sister and took a step towards them. He let go of Frank’s windpipe, letting the small man clatter to the floor. In this moment, the fire of fight was extinguished in Sam’s eyes. Her adrenaline could not override her terror, and any thoughts of trying to fight Kreig were gone.

Kreig stood before them. “It isn’t true.” The mere act of denial.

It wasn’t because he missed his parents. It wasn’t because he knew he would grieve them if he did remember them. No, in every sense of the world, it was a childish, selfish deed. When he had returned, when he had found out that his family lived, he assumed the best: that all his family members were safe and sound. After all, hadn’t he earned it? It had been 130 years. It would’ve been unfair for him to lose people again, when he had already lost everything and everyone.

Terribly unfair. So unfair that even a man of 147 could break down into a childish tantrum.

Sam shook like an aspen leaf. She was the strongest of the two, and yet, right now, she was weak. Utterly and completely incapable of whatever needed to be done to stop or quell the force before her.

As much as she hated to admit it, she had never been the adult of the family. Always been the little sister who cried and dreamt big.

The one who always seemed to know what to say had always been George. “...It’s true, and I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do anymore.” But even his words could only move so many hearts. And even then, that was only the hearts that wanted to be moved. “You’re acting up, and-, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do at all, but it’s true. It’s true, and I’m sorry.”

Kreig just stood there in front of them. So close he was almost suffocating them. His large hands clenched and unclenched, his stony face seemed pained with its own lack of expression.

He fell to his knees. “...It isn’t true…” Now, it was only a mumble. A weak, disbelieving mumble like an engine that burnt up all its fuel. Pathetic, if it hadn’t been him. Even on his knees, Kreig was still much larger than the two of them. Large and imposing and so, so small. He was tiny where he stood. Tiny and childish and inconsolable.

George placed a hand on Kreig’s shoulder. “...But at least you’ve got us, huh?”

Such simple words. Barely even condolence. It shouldn’t have had the effect that it did. It shouldn’t have made him feel the way he did.

His mood flipped. Although a sorrow-filled frown was on the cusp of possessing his face, it changed. The sorrows he felt became a sort of joy for what he had. He didn’t have his entire family, but he had enough. Enough to be happy, enough to forgive himself, enough to protect. Dry tears, carrying joys and sorrows of years past, pooled in his dark eyes. With the tears, they lit up. “You… yes, I do have you, I…” A tear fell and he buckled over, going down on all fours, his long hair falling at his sides, obscuring his siblings from his view.

A pair of warm hands fell on his back. He tilted his face up. Now, they were looking down at him. Now, they were equal.

He stretched out his right hand towards George, saw how the man flinched, and let his hand stall mid-air. But he didn’t give up. “...May I touch you, brother?” George glanced at Sam, both their faces filled with apprehension and uncertainty. Still, he nodded. Still, he approved of the touch. Kreig merely touched his hand. Held it in his own. Such a small hand, like the hand of a child. Naked and uncalloused. He loved this hand. In his heart, he pledged an allegiance. The very same he had given his lord all those years ago. He still remembered the words.

‘My life is yours, my heart is yours. In my hand, I grasp your life. In my soul, I grasp your heart. May my sword never betray you.’ He released George’s hand. “Sister?” Sam gave a shaky nod. Hers was more like his own. Muscular, hard, well-worn by fighting and working. Not the hand of a girl; the hand of a woman. He repeated his words and released her hand.

In his heart, a contract had been signed. In his heart, he had accepted these two.

With his hands now freed, with his heart now filled with gratitude so deep and so extensive, he remained on the floor as his hands clasped together. “Thank God, thank God…” Tears streamed down his eyes anew. He leaned down, further and further, until his forehead tapped the floor, until he was bowed down before the Lord. He hadn’t prayed since his escape from the last prison he’d been in. He didn’t want to escape, that wasn’t why he smiled. He simply knew that now, this very second, was when he needed to break his vow of silence.

“Oh enduring Lord whose forgiveness permeates the worlds that believe…” The words flowed from his lips like nectar, true and old and never forgotten.

Shine of Divine Light (X)