When Heroes Die

“Everything that can be imagined can be made real. To strive for greatness is to understand this. The fetters without are only as strong as the chains within. Transgressing past that which stays your thoughts is a pivotal step to escape the confines of mortality.”

– Translation of the Kabbalis Book of Darkness, widely attributed to the young Dead King

It had taken longer than any of us had expected to finish transcribing copies of everything at the site of the ritual. The maw of darkness had swallowed the sun by the time we had finished. We had decided to camp for the night once more on the outskirts of the city. For now, none of us were willing to risk sleeping inside one of the buildings in the derelict city. We weren’t sure of how safe it would be.

There was no telling what kinds of defences the Titan’s houses had.

We had considered staying on the streets, but decided against it.

There wasn’t a good reason to inconvenience ourselves.

Twenty-five soft balls of light hovered above us in a grid. I used them both as a measuring tool and to see by. The Chain of Hunger was overcast for once.

The salted plains slowly flowed upward and began to reshape themselves into our stay house for the night. We had time and I wanted to touch base with my waning humanity. Art was the most human activity I could undertake. The foundations came first. They bubbled out of the ground and smoothed over like cooling wax.

“You’re letting Yvette grow soft,” Laurence criticized from her wheelchair beside me.

Yvette looked up at the mention of her name and bit her lip, before turning back to the thick pile of transcribed papers on her lap. She was sitting on a chair beside us as I worked.

“This is for me, but all of us deserve something nice.”

What did I feel for tonight? A homely wooden cottage appealed to my desire for a proper residence. A petrified tree vanished from outside the city’s bounds. Stone brick walls grew out of the ground, demarcating an entrance hall, a lounge and three bedrooms. It was like watching cheese melt in reverse. Waterproofed logs covered the bricks over a few moments later. I wasn’t actually concerned about the possibility of rain, but there was no reason for me not to put in the effort.

“I’ve never met a hero who travels the way you do.”

“I doubt villains travel like this either.”

“There is truth in that.”

I filled in the varnished wooden floors next, before establishing the skeleton of the roof and then topping it all off with a tiled sloped rooftop.

“There isn’t a door,” Laurence commented drily.

“I know.”

It was time to start work on the finer details. It didn’t take long for me to modify one of the walls, inserting a heavyset oak door. The door had been painted over in a shade of white that was pleasing to my eye. Parts of the outside facing walls for each room vanished, and glass windows filled in the gaps. Brass curtain railings appeared in the inside, with cream curtains draping themselves from them not long afterwards. Anything else?

Yes. How about a chimney?

My addition filled itself in almost as soon as I thought of it.

“Come on. I’m done with the basics.”

“I can move fine on my own, kid.”

“It helps me as well. You know how I’m struggling with my own senses.”

Laurence gave her assent.

I moved behind her chair and started to give it a push. Yvette and our luggage followed behind me. The rickety wooden chair remained outside. We made it through the front door into the lounge. The room was unfurnished. It took only a heartbeat to change that. A soft velvet carpet appeared underfoot, with three leather couches arranged in a triangle on top of it. A polished mahogany coffee table popped into existence not long afterwards.

Anything else?

“Wow ma you really put a lot of effort into this we usually don’t stay in places this nice can you do this more often?”

The walls needed some life. I started to add some drapes, then candles as mood lighting scattered throughout the room. How about a chandelier as well?

“I can, but fine details like this take a lot of time.” I had been working on this one building for over an hour. “I don’t want to make something like this if I am expecting to fight.”

Making the equivalent of an office building with no character was easy. Actually adding life to the structure in the form of decorative furniture and ornamentation was far more time-consuming.

It wasn’t much longer until I’d lit a roaring fire in the fireplace and everyone was seated in their chair of choice. I’d made us all what food and drinks I could. It wasn’t much in the way of a meal, but it was better than the roast rat they had been eating while I had been trapped in the void.

“What you do reminds me of the Fae.” Laurence stated in a tone that made it sound more like a question.

“I’m not one of them.”

“Ma’s definitely not one of the Fae I’ve had plenty of time to look at what she does she changes the world by putting some of herself into it I’ve tried to figure out where she is from but the best I’ve come up with is outside of Creation entirely she’s not from Arcadia either.”

Yvette looked like she was about to try balancing her cup of tea on the arm of the chair.

“Don’t. You will spill on the papers on your lap. The table is right there.” she pouted at me, then did as I said.

Laurence’s eyes did not move off of me.

“I’m from outside Creation. That doesn’t mean I’m ev-”

“I know, Taylor.” Laurence cut me off. “I haven’t removed your head. You have the blessing of our Gods. That says enough. It’s hard for me to accept, but you’re not the only ascended mortal who holds to Above.”

“I’m not?”

“There’s something like you living in Ashur. Don’t expect to meet them. They keep to themselves.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not from any of the hells. I saw them once by accident. They are… unpleasant.”

“You don’t look like a malformed wretch.” her fingers dug into the side of the sofa she was on.

I’d take that as a compliment.

“Explain how you saw the hells. No pussyfooting.”

“I don’t just exist here. I’m in a lot of other places at the same time. With effort, I can look into them. I usually don’t, because it's a bad idea.”

“Hold to that wisdom.”

“I understand if you don’t trust me in light of this.”

“I don’t like it, but nothing has changed,” she denied.

That was more accommodating than I had expected of her.

“The heavens have seen fit to consider you my successor. I failed against the Horned Lord. You didn’t. Both of us need to face some hard truths.”

The way she said that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Like what?”

“I went after the Tumult while you were indisposed on purpose. It was the right thing to do. You will need to make similar choices in the future.”

I froze.

“Why?” The word came out forced.

“The hero rises from their defeat in their darkest hour and offers up salvation. It’s a story and it worked.”

“But what about Yvette?”

“You don’t lean into stories. They’re always your last resort. We need to beat that out of you. Stories are your sharpest blade against Evil.”

“This isn’t okay. I’m not willing to sacrifice people I care about like that. I don’t use stories as a first resort when fighting because every villain familiarizes themselves with them, and I’m terrifying even without the help of a story. It puts them on the back foot because they need to fight the type of fight they aren’t used to.”

“That sentiment will cost you someday.”

“I’m not dismissing stories as useless. I still use them when the situation calls for one.”

And I had thought that she would be the one that had a hard time listening to what the other person had to say.

“Victory takes sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice should never be our first resort. If we can win without giving anything up, then why pay the cost? It's unnecessary and wasteful. You wouldn’t be crippled if you had waited for me.”

The wrinkles on Laurence’s face softened as she looked at me. “For something better to rise from the ashes, there needs to be a fire first.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Pray that time doesn’t take that belief away from you.”

We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

I was upset. It angered me that she had risked everything that way. The fact that it worked didn’t really matter when she had done it without asking for anyone else’s opinion.

It was Yvette who eventually spoke up.

“I hate this it's not fair there isn’t even anyone who I can hold responsible over this the titans are all dead.” She pushed the stack of pages away from her onto the coffee table with more force than necessary.

“I’m sorry. It’s never easy.”

She must have finally realized that there was no way for her to get the revenge she wanted.

“You always say that ma but that doesn’t make it right this is all so pointless how can I get back at the Ratlings for killing my family if I can’t even kill them back?”

“What’s the kid talking about?” Laurence interjected.

“The spell we found. The Titans made the Ratlings. They did it to trap an older, more powerful evil and strip it of its power. One that could kill all of us with ease if it was still alive. The trap will just find new rats and empower them in the same way if you kill all the Ratlings.”

“So just break the trap and keep killing them.”

How could I convince her to leave this be? Triumphant had seemingly left the spell alone, but I doubted that would do anything except convince Laurence that breaking it would be the right choice.

“No!” Yvette shouted before I could speak. “Breaking the trap is a terrible idea that will kill all of us we need to find some way to change the nature of their curse maybe give them the essence of suffering instead of hunger-”

“Yvette,” I cut into her diatribe.

“Don’t tell me they don’t deserve to be punished every older Ratling is evil they have to be because being good doesn’t keep them alive.”

“They have suffered enough already.”

“Break the spell.” Laurence rapped her knuckles on the table. “Even if we die, someone else will rise to bring about its end.”

“How can they be good if they don’t have a choice?” I shouted over both of them. “That’s what Creation is about, right? The only choice that matters? They don’t have one.”

“Death is a kindness to them.”

“I want them to pay and making them suffer is only fair if we can’t kill them.”

“Listen to what you're saying,” I hissed at Yvette. “It’s not a good thing to do.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t tell me you don’t care,” I interjected. “Does none of the time you spent with me mean anything?”

She flinched.

“I’m not a hero like you are why can’t I have this ma they took everything from me and I can’t have anything back.”

“Because it won’t fix anything. All it will do is give you something to regret in thirty years.”

“Taylor’s right. Making a new kind of evil is a mistake.”

Yvette’s eyes darted between both of us. Her hands clenched and tears ran down her cheeks. She looked like a cornered animal.

“Fine. I’m going to sleep,” she stormed off. The door to the furthest bedroom on the left opened and slammed shut.

I was about to follow behind her when Laurence spoke up.

“Leave her.”

“But-”

“She needs time and space. Give it to her.”

“I disagree.”

A sigh echoed from behind me as I made my way after Yvette. I opened the door and padded my way towards the bed. She had buried her head under one of the navy blue pillows. I could hear choked sobs from beneath.

“Hey,” the bed creaked as I sat down beside her.

“Go away it’s not fair!” she shrieked.

I muffled the sound in the room.

I sat down beside her.

“It never is.”

I nudged her gently with my left hand.

“Come on. Sit up.”

“What for you are just going to give me a hug that isn’t going to make anything better.”

She still did what I said.

“That’s a lie. Hugs help when nothing else does. There were plenty of times I wished I had someone to hug me when I was all alone. I was just too scared to say it.”

I hugged her tightly. Snot smeared itself on my right shoulder, but that was okay. It was for a good cause. My daughter leaned into it.

I wasn’t sure how I would have responded if she had shied away.

“You want me to forget what the Ratlings make me feel and focus on trying to help them even if they killed my family don’t you?”

“I’d be okay with you not doing anything at all.”

“Wait what?” Yvette stiffened in surprise.

“You aren’t the only wizard in the world. Neither of us know enough to solve this problem. We will need to consult with the Gigantes before we even have a hope of starting on this. I’m not about to experiment with the Titan’s magic without an expert that I can call upon for help. Doing so is a recipe for disaster. I care about you. If this hurts you too much to work on, then you can leave it to someone else.”

“I don’t want to leave this to someone else.” she shout-whispered.

“Then don’t. But could you live with yourself if you made a new evil race just to get revenge? Imagine if you actually solved their problem. There is no way they would ever be able to pay you back. Isn’t that a better kind of revenge?”

It was still the wrong way of thinking about it, but the idea seemed to mollify her for now.

We sat in silence for a while. Yvette calmed down, then eventually dozed off to sleep. I gently pushed her under the duvet, then tiptoed out of her room.

Laurence was no longer in the lounge.

With nobody else around, I made my way outdoors.

It was time for me to begin my first attempt at communications with the Horned Lord. I ended up transmuting some of the plain into a colossal boulder that towered at roughly two thirds of the Horned Lord’s height. A list of questions was chiselled repeatedly onto one side, with space on the other for the Ratling to carve with its claws.

I already knew those were sharp.

We are limited to one exchange of messages per day.

What is your name and the name of your people?

What would it take for you to stop sending your people south permanently?

Why don’t you send your people into the Kingdom of the Dead?

What would you trade for a ten, twenty, thirty, fifty and one hundred year reprieve to the spring raids respectively.

You have seen what I can do. I am able to offer much myself. That includes trading for information.

I have some measure of authority to negotiate for the Lycaonese.

I can take anything else to the First Prince.

Do you have any proposals of your own?

I am willing to act as guarantor for any agreement reached between your people and the Principate.

The first message on my part was unfortunately very brief. The main problem I was faced with is the amount of time between messages. I didn’t exactly know which languages the Tumult could read and write in, so I had engraved the same message repeatedly in every language I spoke. It felt like trying to negotiate a peace treaty by mail, but it was the best that I could do.

We didn’t have years to negotiate this, which meant that both of us were going to have to be economical with words. It meant being clever in how we phrased our questions to each other.

I needed to think carefully about what questions I sent the Tumult, as we were rate limited to one transfer of materials per day. The limitation was unfortunately something that I couldn’t avoid disclosing given the circumstances, but I hoped that it didn’t spell trouble for me later on.

Dawn arrived and with it, we made our way deeper into the Titan’s city. It was finally time to see what had been calling me in my dreams ever since waking up in the Principate. The three of us arrived at the intersection once more.

“We should hurry. Hesitating here will have a cost.”

“I know,” I agreed.

This time, we took the path on the right.

We began to make our way up a ramp that sloped gently around the hill. There was a truly gigantic metal railing running around the edge. It was likely there to prevent people substantially larger than us from falling off. At our size, it was possible to fit through the gaps. All the railing was engraved with highly detailed images of leaves.

“I feel like a grave robber or an invader walking around this place it’s so quiet that it's uncanny theres no animals or merchants hawking their wares even the absence of birds singing is creepy.”

“Time cuts down all of us, kid.”

We reached the top of the ramp, arriving at a flattened out section of the hilltop. There were fewer buildings, but all of them were far more extravagant. The wind whistled above us, dancing between the mirrors meandering high above us.

“Wow,” I said. My voice was tinged with just a hint of awe.

Even from high above, the Titan’s city towered tall.

Despite its age, everything still stood untouched by the ravages of time. The floating mirrors rotated at a height currently level with the horizon. The harsh, reflective rays meant that I needed to shade my eyes to observe them properly. It was hard to even conceptualize something like this city, especially considering how fragile many features looked.

I led on. We passed a bubbling fountain, then came to a stop outside an amphitheatre with an open domed rooftop. Finally, we had arrived.

“I’ll stay here and keep watch,” Laurence stated.

“Are you sure?”

I didn’t bother to suggest that it might not be safe for her. Even injured as she was, I didn’t doubt she was one of the most dangerous people alive.

“I am.”

Yvette had come to a stop as well. She looked torn between deciding whether to follow along behind me.

“Yvie, come with me,” I encouraged.

“But Laurence is staying outside doesn’t that mean I should wait with her?”

“You’re my daughter. I promised I’d take care of you. Whatever this is, is as much yours as it is mine.”

Her disagreement faded away. The two of us started to ascend the stairs.

The deserted room was exactly the way I had dreamed it to be.

It was empty, save for bits of rubble strewn liberally across the floor. Those were the shattered remains of the stele I needed to reconstruct. I climbed up onto the raised platform in the middle, looking at what I had to work with.

“This is what you insisted we come back into the city for it looks like a pile of broken rocks what makes it so special?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Come on. Let’s do this together.”

She grumbled for a while, but helped out regardless.

It didn’t take long for us to lapse into a comfortable silence.

It was quiet, peaceful.

I could have gathered the remains of the stele using either magic or even the force of my own will, but… the idea of doing either seemed wrong to me.

This was a task that should be performed by hand.

The routine was simple. Pick up a puzzle piece, then carry it back to the centre of the room just short of the podium where they all belonged. We organized them at the base. It was best to arrange them into groups before we began the task of reconstructing the stele itself.

Time passed. The floor under the soles of my boots first heated and then cooled with the rising and falling of the sun. We stopped outside briefly by Laurence for lunch. Even that didn’t break the tranquillity of the task.

Walk, pick up, put down.

Repeat.

Both of us fell into a trance.

It almost felt like a ritual.

Eventually we had gathered all the pieces. The process of reconstruction began.

It was slow and laborious. Figuring out what went where was hard enough on a two-dimensional puzzle. This puzzle occupied a third dimension. We started from the base and worked our way up. I was exceedingly careful in only fusing chunks of rock together once I was certain that the pieces I had found belonged with each other.

It grew dark. We debated returning to our cabin outside the city. Laurence suggested that we stay.

Dinner came and went. I considered suspending orbs of light inside the interior, but decided against it. The light from the moon and stars would be enough. I paused for a while and watched them, reminiscing.

The sky was different from Earth Bet. New stars set in their own constellations, with a similar, but not the same moon. Despite that, one thing remained constant.

When you looked up and stopped to really think about it all, we were all so very, very small.

That didn’t mean small things couldn’t matter.

I started up on my task again. Yvette had fallen asleep at the base of the monolith. The moon was overhead by the time I had finished piecing together the puzzle.

What now?

Nothing appeared to have changed.

There were still thousands of pieces left over. It confused me. The puzzle was complete. I was certain of it, but it felt like there were enough pieces left over to assemble a second one.

Maybe if I examined the engravings on the stele further?

I stepped in closer. There were a lot of details written in the titan’s script, but most of them were lost on me. What I could make out were the larger structures. The sphere inside a sphere, with two smaller spheres on either side of it.

It was a map of Creation.

A map that had been carved down to even the smallest of details.

The Hells on the Platonic left, the Heavens on the Platonic right, the world in the middle and Arcadia around it. I may have been uneducated on magical theory compared to the wizards of Praes, but the basics of the image did not go over my head.

Unfortunately, everything beyond the basics was far beyond what I could hope to understand.

I just didn’t have the right perspective to make sense of it.

I felt like I was supposed to learn something here. It frustrated me. I felt stupid. As if I was failing a test that had been set.

Parched, I removed the flask from my hip and drank deep while I dwelled on the issue.

I decided to take a brief rest. I sat down for a moment near where Yvette slept on pillows that I had provided her with.

Focus Taylor.

I turned back to the monument.

It was missing.

I blinked, then rubbed my eyes.

Nothing changed.

“I’ll help.” A voice called out. It sounded familiar, as if I should know it from somewhere. I couldn’t place where.

I looked up in surprise.

A figure was standing to the left of where the stele should be. She stood only a little shorter than me, wearing a black and grey silk outfit. Her face was clad with a mask sporting mandibles, and her eyes were covered in yellow lenses. The figure stood unnaturally still. She didn’t move at all, she just stared at me.

It was me.

More specifically, it was me when I had still been Skitter.

I must have fallen asleep. I looked around the place wearily, not being able to see the difference between where I was now and reality before.

“Just like the waking world,” Skitter said. “Ready for me to help?”

It sounded more like she was stating she would be helping me regardless of my wishes, despite phrasing the words as a request. So I was in a dream then. An exceptionally vivid dream, but still a dream. I already knew that dreams had power here, though.

I was about to reject the offer on impulse alone when I thought better of it. She was a part of me. If I rejected help from her, how could I accept help from anyone else? It struck me then. She looked so alone. It was as if she had nobody in her corner. I knew that I wasn’t alone anymore and I didn’t like it. So I stood up and hugged her. She stiffened. It was as if friendly human interaction was foreign to her. The thought left me with a feeling of nostalgic melancholy that I hadn’t expected to have.

I had been like that as well years ago.

“Sure. What am I supposed to do?”

“Build it a second time.” She pulled away, her eyes avoiding my own.

“Okay.”

It was tiring work, but I needed to go on. I considered the remaining pieces carefully, trying to work out how to fit them all together. I hadn’t expected being in a position where I had to build this structure more than once.

It was harder than I thought.

The second structure wasn’t the same as the first one. It wasn’t just the shape of the pieces that were different. The image that was building up on the face of the stele told a different story to the one that I had already seen.

For a while, the two of us worked together in relative silence. It was comforting, as odd as it was.

“You should do it again.”

“Oh?” I replied, confused. “Do what?”

“Nobody here can be trusted with power, so you should take charge,” she explained.

“That didn’t work out so well for me the first time,” I countered.

“But it did!” she argued. “Sure, you died at the end, but the world got to go on.”

“I think if I had trusted others more, we could have come up with a better solution,” I evaded. The response felt weak, but I was trying to be better.

“Sure,” Skitter sounded doubtful. “It doesn’t matter, though. In this world, you actually do know better than everyone else. It isn’t hypocrisy if it’s true. You should try to take over. Not doing it is just irresponsible. Just look at the mess in the Principate!”

“No one person can fix everything. It doesn’t matter how strong they are. Everybody needs guidance. Everybody needs help from somebody else.”

“How about Triumphant?”

“Neither of us know her life story. It doesn’t matter. She still relied on others. Even if it was just from existing academic knowledge and written texts.”

“We could. She was just a human. We’re better than that.”

There was so much wrong with that statement.

“She’s lying, you know,” another voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned.

This figure wore a copy of the robes I wore. I felt a kinship with her. It was almost as if the two of us were nearly one and the same. She didn’t look like she needed a hug, but I gave her one anyway. She returned the gesture warmly.

“You’re making me proud, Taylor,” She said softly. “Do you mind if I help?”

“Of course not,” I smiled back and tapped against the broken base of the plinth.

I took the time to consider the two of them while we worked. A suspicion was beginning to gnaw away at the back of my mind.

I turned to face Skitter. No, not Skitter. She was me, but a version of me who had chosen to side with Below. That made the other one a version of me who also stood with Above.

Each of them was an eidolon standing in to represent their respective sides.

“Is this a test?”

I directed the question towards the version of me that I trusted more.

“If you want it to be.”

“I don’t need to kill my Evil self?”

“Some people test themselves like that. We’re not a brute.” Evil me snorted.

“We like ourselves as we are. You’ve moved past self flagellation.” The Good version of me translated.

“Then what’s the test?”

“Me first,” Evil me said, fitting another piece into the monument.

“Tell me why I should embrace Evil.”

I didn’t see myself changing my mind, but I would at least hear what she had to say.

“Good is ineffective. It’s reactionary. Slavery was ended by Evil. You know that deep down. Good doesn’t improve the world, it only keeps it locked in place.”

I turned towards my Good self. She was continuing to build up the stele while the two of us debated on the side.

“Not going to contest that?”

“You’re not going to fall, Taylor.” She smiled at me. “You’re almost a saint. It isn’t moral guidance that you need. Just a little help and support. A nudge every now and again. I trust you to stand on your own two feet.”

Evil me snorted. “Saint? No she isn’t. How many people suffer because she doesn’t take charge.”

“It’s true that Good is largely reactionary,” I agreed. “It doesn’t need to be that way. Change can be guided. I have no way of measuring how many people suffer because I’m not in charge. It’s entirely hypothetical. What isn’t hypothetical is the thousands that would need to die for me to take over, or the thousands more that would die once I was there.”

“You could just kill or mind control all the leaders. Don’t pretend you don’t think they’re awful. Nobody can fight you.”

“Laurence could.”

I doubted anyone would allow a villain to remain in charge of a Good nation.

“She really couldn’t. You know that. Open a few permanent gateways to the hells and hide out somewhere else. Take some refugees with you.”

That was a big step up from taking over by removing the leaders.

“How does genocide make people’s lives better?”

“Social engineering. Laurence would tell you that you could build something better from the ashes.” Evil me grinned. It wasn’t pleasant to look at.

I turned towards Good me. A sad smile adorned her face. The expression alone communicated all that I needed to know.

“I don’t feel like you’re trying very hard to sway me.” I told my Evil copy.

“I don’t need to.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ll fail her test. I want you to know what you’re signing up for once the blinders have been ripped off.”

I felt like it was supposed to be ominous, but if anything I felt more reassured.

“Anything else?”

“Evil is more open-minded. It’s easier to reform.”

“Really?”

“Just need to convince people with logic, rather than emotion. Prove your system of morality serves their best interest better than being selfish.”

That was a more persuasive argument than her last one, but it still wasn’t good enough for me. For one, I doubted that it was true. The vision of life in Wolof had given me a better understanding of Evil, even if I now appreciated it less.

Evil was unfortunately ideological.

“I’d run the risk of coming to like mass murderers. Then I’d start to think like them. Better to surround myself with good people.”

“Mass murderers like Laurence?”

“All the people she killed deserved it,” I defended.

She gave me a flat stare.

… Point. I had no way of knowing that for sure.

“Evil isn’t asking you to follow anyone. Just do what you believe in.”

“I need to work with others to make the changes I want. I couldn’t just live alone in the middle of nowhere. It would be lonely, and I would hate it.”

“Make friends with others who worship below.”

“An appeal to faith won’t work. Above and Below aren’t morally equivalent. Above has angels that truly represent virtues. Below has devils that bargain for people’s souls.”

“Don’t worship Below. They don’t ask you to.”

“The idea that there is a third side here is a lie. Everything in Creation is a form of worship for one side or the other. Choosing to try to sit out of the fight is just one of the least offensive ways to side with Below. I’m not a coward, and I’m only a fool sometimes. I’ve chosen the side that I believe in, rather than being stupid and believing that by declaring myself neutral it makes it any more true. Everything Good has done shows them in a better light than Evil. Actions matter. I’m not going to consider switching sides.”

The argument ended there.

All three of us continued with our task in silence.

One last piece slotted into place. The stele was not complete, there was still a coin shaped hole in it.

Apparently, it didn’t need to be.

Blue lines burst out of the image carved into the surface of the monument. They enveloped the room. We were swallowed by a huge virtual three-dimensional map that stretched from one side of the stadium to the other.

Planets, stars, constellations, galaxies. All were laid out in exacting detail. I turned my thoughts towards the idea of Calernia and the focus of the map narrowed in on a single speck. It was almost as if it knew what I wanted.

What about Earth?

The map expanded once more to its full size.

The focus did not switch to anything else.

It was a disappointing but expected result.

It was only then that I noticed the two emissaries were holding scintillating pieces in their hands. They were blinding in their incandescence. I shaded my eyes, then conceded even that was not enough and squinted away.

“I thought this was supposed to be your test?” I asked my Good counterpart.

“In the time that you’ve spent in Creation, you’ve told the world two stories.” She began.

“The story of who you were before.” Evil me held out her piece towards me.

I looked towards Good me. She would tell me if this was a trap.

“It’s safe to take. This isn’t a test, despite what she says.”

Evil me cackled in a way that reminded me of Aisha. I ignored her.

I reached towards the glowing chunk of rock now that I had been reassured. It was the size of my palm and shaped like a coin. The light faded from it as it came to rest in my hand. The token had an engraving carved onto it. A golden crown ornamented with a set of silver scales. There was a spider on the left of the scales, balanced by a butterfly on the right.

“That isn’t the only story you told Creation,” Good me held out her piece.

I reached out to it. It was identical in size and shape to the other one, but the engraving on it was different. This one I was already familiar with. It was the image of a golden staircase that I had created for myself.

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Your choice,” Evil me said.

I turned my attention back to the Stele. There was a hole there. A hole that either of them could fit into.

“What happens if I put one of these in there?” I asked.

“You give up that story and everything that comes along with it.” My Good simulacrum answered.

“That means?”

“If you choose to give up the stories of your past, then you will no longer be a demon. If you choose to give up the stories of the present, then you will no longer be on the path to redemption.”

“Why would I give up either?”

“Exactly!” Evil me smiled to emphasize her point. Weeping heavens, that smile was creepy.

“It’s not a sacrifice, it's a trade. If you put in the stories of your past, then they will apply to everyone everywhere in Creation.”

“And if I give up the redemption story?”

“Then everyone except you could follow through with it as well.”

“See. You should do it. Give up on being Good. It’s better for everyone else.”

This… was a lot to spring on me.

“Do I need to give up on either?”

“You don’t,” Evil me answered. “Keep both. It’s smarter.”

And here is the real test.

“You want me to give up on one of them?” I directed the question to my mirror image.

“Your past stories,” she agreed.

“Why?”

“You carry with you the stories of an entire world. A world that is in many ways closer to what you and I want for Creation. Giving up your stories won’t get it there, but it will put the grooves of those stories into place. You know those stories better than anyone else. You can help guide everyone. It’s a new battlefield skewed in favour of Good.”

“Not all of my stories were good.”

“There’s a reason she carried that token,” Good me acknowledged.

“Your story was the strongest on Earth Bet.” The version of me in the Skitter costume explained. “You carry enough stories with you to form a new Fae court, and your story will be the crown to it.”

“And you still want me to give those stories up?” I asked my right half.

The thought made me incredulous.

“I do.”

“Keep them. It’s the right thing to do. You can’t trust anyone with that kind of power.” Villainous Taylor countered.

I looked at both of them closer. I realized that they weren’t just emissaries. They were also both part of me. My doubts and fears. The little voices urging me to do one thing or the other.

“Is there anything else I’d be giving up while you’re at it?”

“There is, but I can’t tell you what,” Good me winced.

Oh.

So that was what this was. I had claimed that I was faithful. This was a test of faith.

“How am I supposed to do anything? Without immortality or power to influence the world, you’re asking me to give up on my dreams.”

“I’m not,” her voice raised in pitch. “Your dreams are good. I want them to happen. The Angels want them to happen. Our Gods want them to happen. If you win, they win. We are all fully behind you.”

“Then why are you asking me to discard both my powers and my past? It’s part of what makes me who I am.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Think about how much good your stories could do if they applied to everyone. You know how hard it's going to be to change societies. How much blood will be shed to get there? Even the most peaceful path is going to see millions or perhaps billions die. How much has Aisne really changed now that the revolution is over?”

So this was the other side of the coin.

“This is why she thought I’d fall.”

I’d be weakening my story if I kept both coins. My Gods were offering me guidance. They were suggesting that this was a better way. I wasn’t about to let go of my redemption story. That made it a choice between keeping and letting go of my largest advantage over anyone else.

It felt like I’d be losing out no matter which choice I made.

“Told you that it’s unacceptable.” Terrible Taylor folded her arms. I got the sense that the entire exchange left her feeling satisfied.

I turned towards my reflection.

“Will I still be in a position where I am able to negotiate with the Tumult?”

“You know the answer deep down inside.” my Good twin evaded.

“How about my leverage over Cordelia? My abilities in a fight? This throws all my plans away. I won’t be able to escape stories, or see them before they unfold. Are you asking me to swear not to kill as well?”

Good me came close and hugged me tightly.

“Taylor, have faith,” she whispered into my ears.

Have faith.

“Are my dreams dead if I do this?”

She shook her head vigorously.

Even in dreams, my mouth had gone completely dry.

Even if she ignored all the other questions, there was one that I needed to know the answer to.

“Are my Gods asking me to die?”

“Do you believe that they would?”

No. No I didn’t. This was a trust exercise. My Gods wouldn’t ask me to die, to kill my friends, or to become a pacifist. Nobody would follow them if the guidance they offered wasn’t in the spirit it was asked for.

Am I really considering this?

It was hard. Harder than any decision I had ever made before. Even the ones that I had made at the end of the world. They might have had more far-reaching consequences, but none of them required me to act on faith alone.

I turned towards my Evil twin.

“Trust isn’t good enough, is it?” She grinned at me.

It was her grin more than anything else that helped me make up my mind. I didn’t want to ever be like that. I didn’t want to be like her. My new friends and faith had made me happy. Happy in a way that I hadn’t been in a long, long time.

I’m really doing this, aren’t I?

I felt a sense of certainty wash over me. A clarity that I had wished for. Yes, this was my purpose. This was what I wanted to do. They were my Gods, and I was one of their priests.

“If my Gods asked me to believe in people or organizations, then you would have been right. I don’t believe in any of them. I doubt that will ever change. When I negotiate with Cordelia, I do so with the implied threat of what I can do hanging over her. She knew at all times that I could just walk across to her opposition if I didn’t like what she said or did. She knew that if I wanted her dead, there was nothing that she could do about it. It’s a part of me that I don’t like. It’s something that I was made into by others. Sadly, it’s a part of me that will never go away.”

“You’re really considering this?” The range of my Evil self’s voice went higher than my voice had ever gone before.

“I am.”

“You’re just giving the Gods Above power over you.”

“They already have it.”

Omnipotence didn’t go away because they chose not to exercise it.

“Think. It’s a lie. A trick to kill you.”

My Gods did not need to trick me to kill me. If the Gods wanted someone dead, they immediately ceased to exist.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

My Good reflection was right. This wasn’t a test. I had already decided where I stood. I worshipped the Gods Above. This was simply me affirming my own faith.

It’s going to be okay, Taylor.

They were my Gods, and I believed in them.

My friend, my family and everyone else that I had come to rely on were all together under the banner of Good. Trusting them all had gotten me this far. I’d trust them all just a little bit further.

My Gods wouldn’t lie to me. They wouldn’t just cast me aside. They knew where my lines were just as well as I did.

“Good luck then.” My villainous self patted me firmly on the shoulder.

“I thought you disagreed?”

“We don’t hate ourselves. You’re still me. I want to be happy. I just don’t agree on the road to get there.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t forget the other choice. Be more selfish. Assert control. Make some decisions on your own. Not every choice needs to be guided by somebody else.”

I knew that. I didn’t ask for guidance when I felt certain of what was right or for trivial problems. It was only something that I did when I felt lost. This wasn’t about relieving myself of the ability to choose, it was about having the opinion of someone much older and wiser than myself when times were hard.

I turned away from her.

“Do you have anything to say?” I asked my Good simulacrum.

“You know my mind as well as I do.”

I was about to disagree when I realized that I did. I was her and she was me. Both of us had positioned ourselves firmly on the side of Good.

There was only one thing left for me to do.

“Your priestess offers this to you in the spirit it was asked for. She trusts you to take good care of her,” I prayed.

My hands shook as I walked up to the hole in the Titan’s monument and slotted the piece of my past into it.

I could feel the hands of my Gods reach out to me and lay a finger on my forehead. It came as a shock. I had never heard of the Gods intervening before, but it made sense. If anything required direct intervention, then changing the nature of a demon into something else would do it.

This… wasn’t what I was expecting.

I had expected them to turn me back into a human.

My perception began to expand. My mind began to change. It was similar and yet different from what I had experienced within the void before anchoring myself to Yvette. My Gods were there to guide me through the experience every step of the way this time. It was comforting. They kept me from losing myself.

I was still me, but I was also something different.

There was Light. It was everywhere. It suffused every part of me. The experience didn’t hurt, but it was overwhelming.

S…s…so much. T…t…too much.

My consciousness began to fade. I could have tried to stay awake, but I trusted my Gods to take care of me. I didn’t know what I would wake up as, but I had faith in them. That was good enough. I had faith that I would still be me. Faith that whatever they turned me into would preserve my humanity. Faith that I would still be able to achieve my dreams.

A comforting blanket of darkness wrapped itself around me.