When Heroes Die

Ingress 4.05

“Note: replacing the tower’s cliffs with slippery slopes can be considered a partial success. The number of meddling heroes has declined, but there has been a steep increase in villainous rivals.”

— Extract from the journal of Dread Emperor Malignant II

“You coming?” Cat whispered from the bed across from me.

“Course I’m coming, when have I ever not followed you on your late night trips. Besides, I wanted to talk to you about a boy I saw down at the docks once we’re away from the others. He looked like your type. He wasn’t too tall, and he had a nice tan. I talked to him, and he said he would be there tomorrow. I think he was interested in me, but he doesn’t really catch my eye, so I thought that I’d see if I could arrange something.” I whispered back.

My eyes needed a moment to adjust as she snuffed out our stolen candle, then stowed it away under her straw mattress. The two of us climbed out of bed and slipped on our shoes, then sneaked our way through the orphanage. I made my way confidently into the kitchen and grabbed myself a bite to eat. It wasn’t as if anyone would notice me, after all. They never did. I looked down at her as Cat forced the orphanage door open, then both of us climbed up onto the roof.

She went and stood by the edge.

“Thanks for coming, Tay,” she trembled as she spoke.

Cat looked out over the edge. I walked and stood beside her. I didn’t share her fear of heights, but I’d help her to overcome it.

It’s what sisters did for each other.

“It’s not a problem. You should come to the House of Light more often. I know you don’t find it as comforting as I do and would rather spend time anywhere else, but the Legions aren’t the only ones who can make a difference. Think about how many people would die without the Priests, they help just as much.”

“Don’t see why I should. The priests ignore you.”

“Everybody ignores me. I thought you were used to that by now, Cat. I have to steal my own food from the kitchen, sort out my own bedding, find my own clothes too. It’s not like the priests are special because of it. You’re the only one who ever helps me out or even talks to me. That doesn’t mean that none of them are good people.”

She said nothing, but her shoulders stiffened.

We had been inseparable ever since arriving at the orphanage on the same day. She had a habit of getting into trouble. I was always the one who dragged her out of it. Nobody ever seemed to pay attention to me. The only person who ever truly saw me was her. It was lonely, but at least there was one person who I could count on to always be there for me.

“Just think about it. The sisters always say that Evil fi-”

“Evil fighting Evil doesn’t make more good. I know. You love to quote that,” she growled. “How come you sound just like the nuns and then follow along with all my pranks?”

“There's a difference between malice and harmless mischief,” I replied, grinning at her. “Everyone gets a laugh. It doesn’t matter if you sneak out late at night or filch a few coins from one of those rich Praesi pricks. Your pranks are fun and nobody gets hurt.”

The idea of people actually hurting each other upset me. I saw it happen, but there was nothing I could do about it. It made me feel so helpless.

“Only because you’d disapprove,” she muttered.

“Keep telling yourself that. One day, both of us will be heroes, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming all the way into the Light with me.”

I pushed the nightmare aside.

The hallucinations I was experiencing had changed. At this point, they were hardly tied to my life at all. That made them easier to endure. I knew that they weren’t a part of who I was. They weren’t me. That didn’t stop them from feeling real. It felt like I was experiencing the memories of many hypothetical manifestations of myself. The only real difference being that they had all been born in Creation.

But that was the important difference.

It wasn’t my life, and I knew that.

So I lived through one scene after another. The visions were vivid. Not all of them were horrors. Some of them were dreams as well. That didn’t make it pleasant. It didn’t make this an experience I ever wanted to repeat. However, between support from the angels and Yvette… I was managing. At least, that was what I was telling myself.

Years had passed.

The first time she had involved herself in those horrid pit matches, she had invited me to watch. I had been unable to hold back my disgust and needed to leave the audience. She had forfeited the match to comfort me. She knew that I hated violence. I didn’t understand how she was able to hurt others. It was a rift that had begun to form between the two of us. I still trusted her despite that. She was my sister, she would never turn on me.

That didn’t take away the sting I felt every time she fought in the ring.

It felt like she was forgetting me. Forgetting the bond between us.

“I keep telling you to stop fighting in those underground rings,” I groused at my sister. “Every time you come back with bruises or broken bones. I hope that a black eye is the worst you have this time. Why can’t you do something other than join the Legions. I know you believe it’s the best way to temper the Praesi influence, but I keep telling you that-”

“-all I’m doing is carving up my own soul. I know, I know,” she winced. “Wiggle your holy fingers and fix me up already.”

“Fine,” I glared at her.

I had already made my way over to the table she was hunched over at the Rat’s Nest. I muttered a prayer and reached towards the warmth. The Light answered. It rushed through her body, mending the injuries that she had incurred. I didn’t understand how it was healing her, but I could see what was being healed.

“Two fractured bones, one black eye, plenty of bruising. Weeping Heavens, how are you even walking? How would you even live past a week if you didn’t have me to save your hide?” I poked her in the chest as I spoke. “What makes you think you will survive in the Legions? I looked up the statistics. It’s not like they aren’t public. One in ten people don’t survive officer training, and I know that you’re ambitious. You’re reckless too. If you injure yourself while serving in the Legions, I can’t be there to heal you.”

“Leyron,” she averted her eyes and greeted the man as he walked into the room. “My apron is still under the counter?”

I stifled the rest of my rant. Later, it could wait until later. Right when I told her the good news. I hadn’t told anyone yet, not that I could. Spreading the word would be a bad idea. She was the only person that I trusted enough. It was convenient that she was also the only person able to remember me. I’d sworn off violence. To my surprise, my oath had been accepted. Even now, I could feel my choosing. It was hard for me not to feel reverence whenever I thought of the angels. Reverence and melancholy. They had seen fit to bless me with their favour.

I was the Forgotten Priestess.

As the vision faded, I frowned. Why was the name Catherine familiar? I swept over the dusty cobwebs of my mind, trying to recall where I had heard the name before. It took me a few moments before I realized why the girl seemed so familiar. I had encountered a girl named Catherine back in Laure who looked just like her. Did she really make that much of an impression on me?

I doubted it.

A pit of snakes started to writhe in my phantom belly.

“Do you want me to try to pull you out of there with magic, ma? I know it’s risky, but I don’t want you to be hurt. The place you’re stuck in sounds real bad. We’ve reached an oddity in the landscape. There’s this large area where nothing is growing. The ground is scarred as far as the eye can see. Laurence said she’s never been here before. It looks like the result of a magical cataclysm of some kind.” Her words were slurred. I didn’t think that she was getting enough sleep.

It was tempting to give her permission. The false promise of freedom called to me. It sang honeyed words laced with a poison so sweet that I wanted to drink it.

Leave me. It’s not worth the risk.

I denied my daughter’s request. It was more for her safety than my own. I didn’t think that she could hurt me, but she could hurt Laurence or herself. She was far too fatigued to attempt anything complicated.

I was no longer drifting about the dream world and exploring on my own. I had anchored myself to my daughter instead. When she moved, I moved with her. It helped to retain my hold on reality.

Today would be my last day among the living.

But that was okay.

I stood on the Gallows, beside my fellow victims. There must have been around fifty of us together. Thirty feet away from us stood the Black Knight and my sister. In other circumstances, he would never make a mistake like this. Never dare to make his apprentice stand witness to the murder of her own sister. It was unfortunate for him that I was different. I was the one who was always forgotten, always looked over.

It was ironic. I could have just walked off the gallows. Walked away and almost nobody would see me. I wasn’t willing to do that. My sister was falling. Falling, and she didn’t even see it happening. She had been there for me all those years. She had been my lighthouse out on a stormy sea. So I would be her light, just this once. I’d drag her kicking and screaming out of the darkness.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

“It will be over quick, lass,” one of my compatriots consoled.

I hadn’t been talking to him. It was funny. Now that I was at the end of my rope, those who stood beside me saw me just fine.

The angels blanketed me.

It was a kindness of sorts. A last moment’s reprieve before my thread was cut loose.

Cat had never come back to the orphanage that day. When I went looking and found out that she was seen in the presence of the Black Knight, I knew that something was wrong. If there was an easier way of doing this, a better way, I would have taken it. There wasn’t. I knew Cat. I knew her better than anyone else. She was content to carve up her own soul one piece at a time, so long as the slivers were small enough. If I wanted to save her, then I’d need to make the price so long that she wouldn’t ever be able to pay back the cost.

The green-eyed monster and my sister turned my way. Her eyes widened when they met my own. She tried to do something, to speak out against him.

“Stop,” the word rang out across the Court of Swords.

My feet dropped. Something snapped.

I couldn’t speak my last words, couldn’t say what it was that I needed to say. Instead, they rang out within the confines of my own mind. I hoped that this would be enough, that this would expunge the poison that had taken root so deeply within her. That she would go on to be the hero that I knew she should be.

Remember.

A knife came up and plunged towards the Black Knight’s neck. It was the last thing that I saw, before being swallowed by darkness.

It was Catherine, I was certain of it. Was this her future? Was she destined to become a villain? No, these visions weren’t real. That series of events couldn’t possibly play out, because I had never been Taylor Foundling to begin with. I hoped that I hadn’t failed Catherine by turning away from her. If I had run into her today, I would have taken her with me instead. I felt more confident in myself.

While quests into the wilderness like this one would not make for a good home life, I felt they were the exception and not something to be expected. My Name wasn’t one that answered the call to adventure. Most of my time would be spent labouring on reforming nations. Ideally, the process would be peaceful, but I wasn’t that naive. That didn’t change the fact that as far as heroic stories went, it was still one where I could afford to raise children. I could even avoid an early grave if I was able to thread the needle.

Was there anything else to be learned from that vision?

Yes. I could recall what holding the Light felt like. I could remember what it was like to truly have faith. It… wasn’t that different to what I felt already. Was I truly religious? I didn’t feel that way, but maybe… maybe I was. If I wasn’t, then I was certainly close to finding faith. I definitely didn’t share my alternate self’s thoughts on violence or self-sacrifice. Violence was necessary sometimes, and I was done with throwing away my life. It was something that a child thought would fix problems, when it only created new ones. But faith? Maybe I did have room for it in my life after all.

I’d need to think over the idea more, when I wasn’t being constantly assailed by new illusory horrors.

Without much else to do, I had taken to personifying different slivers of hunger that wormed their way through my presence. I took the time to imagine what their lives had been like, living out on this broken plain. It might have just been the early onset of insanity, but I liked to think that they were starting to become distinct to me. It was almost as if I could reach out and wave ephemeral fingers through the smoke of their story.

Day six came, and the dreams that swallowed me no longer featured alternate versions of me in them at all. That didn’t mean there were no inferences that could be drawn. They were all stories that shared some of the same themes as the tale of my life. Many of them featured one sister being betrayed by another. Visions of someone called Alexis were particularly unpleasant in their familiarity. I didn’t know if she was a real person or not. I didn’t know if anything I saw was more than just the fabrications of a now deranged mind. That didn’t stop the glass slivers of her memories from cutting me up inside as they made their way down my throat.

“Finish your drink, Zain,” Tasia Sahelian admonished.

I looked up at her unblinking golden eyes. I was full, but I didn’t dare to question her about this. Much like when my cradle-sister used to get into trouble before she grew older, it would only see me switched. Finishing my meal, I left the room. I started to make my way to my cot. My sister followed beside me. I was not normally allowed to visit. Akua had earned permission by excelling in her lessons.

“Where are you heading, Zain?” my sister tugged at my arm. “You promised you would watch the theatre troupe staging Tyranny of the Sun with me.”

“Sleep, Akua.” I mumbled to her, my eyes half lidded as I walked. “Tired.”

“Fine, but I expect you to keep up with my lessons.” she gave me the pout that only I ever got to see.

That wouldn’t be happening, as much as she wished it.

I smiled in as I said goodnight. I trailed my hands along the wall as I stumbled my way towards sleep.

The room I stayed in wasn’t anything special. I had earned more than my rivals on account of my wits. I wouldn’t be sacrificed for grain rituals this year. Not that I felt clever next to my sister. She was the real genius and she knew it. I was feeling drowsier than expected. My eyes closed almost as soon as I finished lying down.

Crack!

“-purs of greatness are never gentle,” a voice murmured.

It sounded like I was trying to listen to a conversation taking place on the other side of the Wolof markets.

My eyes opened slowly. The room I was in was dark. The stone ceiling was spinning. Why were all the colours changing? Something was wrong. Two golden orbs moved in. They blocked off my view.

I shivered.

The face in front of me resolved itself into my sister. Akua? I tried to open my mouth. My lips wouldn’t move. I tried lifting my hands. They crept upwards. I reached towards her for reassurance.

Another cracking noise resounded.

What was happening?

My sister reached towards me. She was shaking as much as I was. I felt something wet fall on my cheeks, then a sharp stinging in my neck. I tried to speak again, but gurgled instead. Cold, everything was so cold.

The hallucination vanished. It had been far more unpleasant than many of the others. I knew how awful Praesi culture was from second-hand accounts, I didn’t need experience with it myself.

There was plenty that I did not need to experience.

Was there a lesson to be drawn from these dreams? Was there some secret to be learned? There must be. I didn’t believe that Creation would throw visions at me without some purpose behind them.

These weren’t the same as the dreams that plagued me on my travels. That didn’t mean that they were entirely meaningless, even if none of them were recollections of real events.

If it wasn’t from the themes repeating, then maybe it was from the actors themselves? I didn’t know any of the people involved, but I did know the name Sahelian. They were one of the more important factions in Praes.

I turned my attention back to my surroundings.

When I looked at the Ratlings moving within my range, it felt as if I could reach out and see their dreams formed into the shape of trees. The inky blackness seemed to resolve into the branches of trees, infinitely dividing upwards into eternity. I tried to follow them, to see where the limbs led to.

Hunger. Hunger stretching forward and backward, repeating over and over again. No end in sight, and a beginning far beyond my capacity to find. But what did the Ratlings want, bereft of their curse? Was there an answer?

The smoke figures disappeared on me once more.

“The Ratlings have been relentless without the grass to hide in,” Yvette rasped. “I think coming further into the Chain of Hunger was a mistake. We should have waited until you were back.”

Don’t talk. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.

I hated that there wasn’t more I could do to comfort her.

I was starting to worry more about Laurence and my daughter than I was worrying about myself.

The claustrophobia was starting to fade. Not because the situation was pleasant, but because I knew now that I would never fall victim to the same tragedy. This wasn’t the same as the locker. I had friends and family. There were people who were with me who wouldn’t abandon me. People that I could draw strength from.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t believed that before, but having it proven to me counted for more.

There was no doubt in my mind that I would never have to face my demons alone again.

“Come sister, come look!” my brother tugged at my worn cotton tunic.

“What is it?” I turned his way. The little brat only came up to my chest, but he was growing fast. It wouldn’t be long until he had surpassed my height. I was sure of it.

“Something out on the horizon. The whole village is gathering.”

I finished washing the tunic I was holding and hanged it up to dry. Then I followed behind him. We followed the path just outside our hut and down the trail towards the sea shore. The sting of salt water on my face was bracing. I stomped my way across the beach, and then spat when loose sand was blown into my face by the wind. My brother led me further, pointing towards the small crowd that was gathering on the rocks at the waterline. The rocks were slick. I chose my footing with care as I followed behind him.

I couldn’t afford to fall and slip.

We stopped beside the others. It was not long until the shapes resolved into masts. Ships were arriving.

The chief started to issue orders. We would prepare gifts and songs for their arrival. It was the only appropriate way to greet guests.

The vision faded. It felt different to the others, although it was hard to articulate exactly why. The people in it were almost tribal. Was this a dream of a society on a foreign shore, one even less developed than Calernia?

Day seven had led my thoughts even further astray. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing memories of a time long past, or dreams of a distant land. What I did know is that none of them were pleasant. The world I saw was brutal, untamed. It had a wildness to it far beyond that which currently existed.

“There are large stone statues of trees everywhere. It’s weird, it’s like they are all frozen in time.” There was a long silence before she next spoke. Her next words were quiet, almost pleading. “I hope you can come out to save me soon, ma. The Saint will be fine. Nothing ever seems to worry her, but I can barely stay awake. There’s never time to rest. The Ratlings are always chasing us. I thought that this would be fast. This isn’t like adventures in stories.”

It never is. There’s always problems. Complications. That’s just how things are. But we will make it through. I promise.

I ran, ran through the forest as I made my escape. Tripping against a root, I scrambled to my feet and let out a choked sob as I sprinted further into the foliage. Why were they like this? They had met our gifts and song with the fall of arrows and the ringing of blades. My brother, my father, was anyone even left? My tunic got caught in a thorn bush. Panicking, I pulled it off. Pulled it off and exposed the bruises. No, don’t think about that. I looked away from myself. Looked back towards the path ahead.

Time passed.

I had no home. There was no place for me to call my own. I merely travelled from one land to another, sharing the story of my people. A people now broken by the tyrants from across the sea. I didn’t know how long it had been. I’d spent so many seasons lost in the woods that even the passage of the sun had become meaningless to me. It hadn’t taken me long to discover that I was alone. I was the only one of my people left. They had killed them. They had killed all of them. It was only me. I was the only one who had survived.

I would outlast the tyrants, I would surpass all of them. So long as I lived, I carried the story of my people with me. Never forgotten, never dying. They were a tale that would be told long after even the memories of our conquerors had faded from the whispers of the bitter sea breeze.

My people would be remembered, so long as I remain to Wander.

That… was bleak.

I was about to spend time contemplating the vision’s contents when I felt a ravening maw enter into my range once more as my delusion died. The source was easy for me to identify. The Tumult. Unless it was a different Horned Lord, it could be nothing else. The others needed to know that it was there. I started to shape myself into a warning.

Tell Laurence the Tumult is near.

The figures conjured by my imagination manifested themselves once more. They appeared around that empty stomach like smoke drifting in the wind. The clouds of fog harmonized all of a sudden. In a moment of complete clarity, it crystallized like a snowflake.

I knew what the Tumult wanted. I understood the Dream that motivated it. I examined everyone. All the figures within my range. I was confronted with a dizzying amount of information. I knew all of their deepest desires with just the briefest of glances.

This…

Without a doubt it was useful. If I had possessed this Grace in Aisne I would have had a far easier time. It was also extremely invasive.

“We both know it's coming fast. Laurence just started fighting it and-”

Her narration of events cut off. My tension began to mount. I didn’t know what was happening, and I was helpless to help out. She was still there, definitely still alive. I could hear the dry rasping of her voice as she started to cast a spell.

It was tense. I worried about both of them. Why couldn’t they have waited without moving closer?

I felt the timer tick over to a new day. My shackles vanished. With the assistance of the angels, I immediately started the process of forming a new body.

“Laurence, no!” my daughter called out.

I opened my new eyes under the gentle light of the moon to see Laurence hurtling through the air.

Before I could react, her body slammed into the fossilized remains of a tree not even a heartbeat later.