As the Long Dream Ends
Sturdy though you may be, your body is practically falling apart. You don’t even think all your organs are inside you anymore. Your sight is fading, your sensations growing numb.
Yet, you move.
You push yourself, straining your trembling limbs. As if answering to your will, the Astral Amulet shines. Countless small, silver discs begin to manifest, each the size of a coin. They swarm your body, taking the place of bone and muscle where there are now none. They cover your heart, constricting and squeezing it to force what blood you have left throughout your body. They clamber into your spine, taking the place of your nerves, conducting the bioelectricity necessary for movement. Swathed in shields, you rise.
Stubborn to the end.
So be it. That too is humanity.
I shall savour the sight of your last stand.
That is the last you hear from the Hound.
And you move.
Not in a dashing gait, nor an elegant run. You stumble awkwardly, yet speedily, propelled forward by the shields to stand between Rain and the knight commander.
“Let divine blood be spilled, O Spear of Destiny.”
As those words leave the commander’s lips, he hurls the spear. It flies straight for Rain at tremendous speed, faster than you can react. For a moment it seems that it would soar right past you, leaving you helpless to defend her. Then, the spear swerves. It slams into your side, piercing right past the numerous silver shields that coated your skin like scales, digging deep in between your ribs and lifting you off the ground with the impact. Yet it does not pierce through you. The Astral Amulet continues to draw upon your life and your desire to protect. With the spear lodged firmly in your body, you get back to your feet, glaring at the commander.
He shakes his head in disbelief. His countenance is pale, and sweat runs down his cheeks. Throwing that spear seems to have taken a lot out of him. Without saying another word, he makes a gesture. The holy spear slides out of you and back into his hands. The sudden withdrawal of the spear sends you to one knee, but no blood pours out of the gaping wound left behind. The wound has already been filled in by the little silver discs. They grow and multiply… almost as if alive. You can feel them slowly climbing up the insides of your neck, creeping towards your brain. What would happen when they reach it? You do not know. All you can do is stand your ground for as long as you can.
The commander steps forth, seemingly acknowledging you as an obstacle that needs to be removed before he can get to Rain.
“No! Let me do this!”
A sick, wet, ripping noise accompanies Antonio’s scream as he tears himself free from the pillar, leaving what seems to be most of his skin behind in tattered rags dangling from the gray stone. He staggers between you and the commander, almost as if to protect him just like you are protecting Rain.
“You’ll need to throw the Lance of Longinus once more… to get to the little devil… wouldn’t you?” Antonio breathes heavily, his eyes fixed upon you. “I’ll buy you the time you need to gather your strength…. Can’t fail here… if we do… everyone living in the Tower is as good as dead… to these damnable inhumans…”
“…Alright. I’m counting on you.” The knight commander nods.
Once again you face the wicked knight. He seems almost as dead as you are; with the amount of blood dripping from his near skinless body, it seems that likely that he would bleed out if you could hold on for long enough.
This time, there is no sneering, no murderous anger. Antonio is cold and focused, pointing his dagger ahead of him. He comes in to strike, as fast as a snake. The first jab comes from your left. You step in and knock the dagger aside with your shielded forearm, the silver scales tinkling musically as they hit against the flat of the black blade. From your right, high above, comes the second swing, in a movement as practiced and as elegant as a dancer’s. This you block rather clumsily, forced to rely upon your will to move the shields controlling your muscles rather than any reflexes of your own. The force of his attack is great enough that your blocking arm bends inward from the impact. Your shields hold, preventing his blade from taking your arm and your head off entirely. The dagger pulls away, slicing your cheek open in the process but doing no further harm. And you feel no further pain, as the silver shields reinforce your certainly broken arm and fill in the gash on your cheek.
You retaliate by throwing a punch at him, which grazes his bloody cheek and tears away even more of his face. Caught off balance by your blow, you take the opportunity to sink another punch right into his abdomen. Antonio groans in pain, stumbling. Yet he does not back away or disengage. In fact, he tumbles forward, lashing out with his dagger. It slips past your defenses and sinks into your belly, too fast for you to dodge.
“Scatter!” he hisses right in your face, as he grabs the back of your neck with his free hand to prevent you from pulling away. The black mist that had ate away you is released once again, this time directly into your body. The Astral Amulet gets to work faster than it ever has, manifesting more and more of the shields to encircle and push away the mist. For every shield eroded by the mist, another takes its place. For every shield manifested in response to this deadly mist, you can feel more and more of your body being taken away, converted into fuel for their creation. And for every piece of your body eaten away, more shields multiply, taking their place.
You slam your head into Antonio’s own, breaking his teeth. Yet he keeps his hold onto you, growling ferally. “Can you even call yourself human anymore? Looking like-”
“I don’t care.” You headbutt Antonio once more, interrupting him. His eyes roll back into his head for a moment, but his grip does not falter, and soon he recovers himself. Cruel and vicious he may be, but you have to admit that the man is driven. Deciding to take a different approach, you grab his dagger-wielding wrist with both hands. You scream, and squeeze. The discs multiply in your fingers, replacing your worn tendons with shining silver, strong enough to shatter bone. Antonio’s wrist cracks and folds like a twig.
You tear his hand from your body, with the dagger still in a death grip, and force it towards him instead. The dagger plunges into his heart.
As Antonio’s body falls to the ground, you stagger. You can’t think right anymore. What were you supposed to do here? You can’t see right anymore. What is there in front of you, that light shining through the haze? You can’t hear right anymore. Whose voice is that, and what are they saying?
The light grows stronger, seemingly closer. It is sheer power, infused with holiness that sears the scales from your body even from such distance. All you can manage to do now is to stand upright. Walking would be out of the question. In your addled, failing mind, the only thing that you understand is this: the light cannot be allowed to reach Rain.
So, you catch it. You embrace it, pulling it towards you. It lifts you off the ground once more, but this time you do not fall to the ground. The light spreads inside you, burning away everything that you are, forcing your arms outstretched and your back straight. Yet you take it in, turning over all you have to the Astral Amulet. You will let yourself be the shield, one last time.
The silver shield encloses the light, smothering it.
And then, there is nothing left.
***
You see a long, long dream. Of family, of friends, of a life that was. This you dream, as you fall ever upwards.
Past New Vienna, once bustling and full of life and now filled with nothing but the screams of the dying.
Past the peaceful fields and pastures where nothing but cows and sheep roam.
Past the small and sleepy Scotsfield, where Sophie is teaching the younger children how to read and write.
Past the scorching desert where the Al’tayyih wander.
Past the jungle, in which Tlalli is tidying up her little outpost.
Past a strange and twisted mansion, where Elizabeth slumbers.
Past gates and mountains, and more strange landscapes galore.
As you continue to fall, everything darkens, as if night has fallen.
Yet darkness is not all there is.
At the end of your fall, before you awaken from your dream and vanish into the dawn, there is a star, bright… and terrible.
It seems to be awaiting you, as it awaits the souls of all who live and die in the Tower.
It waits to judge, or perhaps to be joined.
Should Father McClellan have seen it, he would surely have fallen to his knees…
And proclaimed it to be God.
--END--
