The room I awoke in felt ancient. Rubble and debris covered the floor. A desiccated corpse loomed over what had been my resting place, arms wrapped protectively around the box that had been my coffin. I gazed questioningly at the body, wondering if I'd ever known him.
I wasn't alone here, however. Four others, just as lost as I, had stumbled upon me in search of their own answers. Rosemary; a sandy-blonde, down-to-earth mechanic. Fractal; dark-haired, wiry, and sometimes more than slightly frenetic. Kassandra; mysterious, with her nomad's robes, and her tendency to keep one eye on the sky. Metatron; a no-nonsense soldier who seems to keep everyone at arm's length. But, most of that knowledge came later.
Our first moments together were spent in panic. The coven we had awoken in was empty, abandoned, uninhabitable. Something horrible had happened where we were, and we weren't safe. And so, our first priority became escape. The problem was finding a means to do so. Each building we searched was empty of both life and equipment. The nearest coven was too far to walk, and the one vehicle we could find was missing a vital part. Somehow, Fractal managed to get it running, and we made our way to the coven we would come to know as Millhaven.
This coven, too, was deserted. The sense of emptiness and desolation was almost overwhelming, and only worsened the further we explored. Doors hung precariously on broken hinges. Dark stains smeared several floors and tainted large sections of ground. A strange, sticky webbing crisscrossed alleyways and obscured buildings. We searched several buildings for anything useful, to no avail. After a while, a larger building caught our attention. As we came closer, we could see the door was boarded over. Riveted to the boards was a hideous sculpture obviously meant as some kind of ward. Whether it was meant to warn away people, keep out whatever ill had befallen the town, or both, was unclear. Whatever it's purpose, the sheer terror the sculpture represented struck a chord somewhere deep in my mind, and I blacked out.
The next thing I remember is the smell of metal and the feel of a cool steel floor against my skin. It was reassuringly familiar. I opened my eyes, and immediately realized where I was.
Home.
Arcadia.
How could I have forgotten? Suddenly I realized that I was not alone. The cloud of confusion I had been under began to lift as I recognized the figure of my closest friend beside me. The turmoil since meeting the other four began to feel increasingly distant and intangible.
"Alastor..." I said, trying to shake off the last of the shadows. "I just had the strangest dream...."
He listened patiently while I told him everything I'd been through with the others. I laughed about how confusing it had been, and how glad I was to be home.
"Delilah," Alastor's voice was quiet and level. "What do you remember about what happened here?"
Memories began to flash through my mind: Screeching metal. Darkness. The sensation of falling.
"Arcadia.... fell." I answered hesitantly, unsure of where this resurfaced memory left me. "And we fell with it."
"Yes. Arcadia is gone," Alastor answered firmly. "But you're work isn't finished yet. The others need your help."
Alastor and Arcadia faded away, and I found myself back with the other four, a little more sure of who, if not where, I was.
Kassandra sensed that Night would soon be falling. This was worrisome. Night in this new world, the others explained, was no trivial matter. Without a functioning Icon (an esoteric piece of machinery that stood in the center of a coven), the darkness would begin to eat away at a Poe's (the people of this world) very essence. The Icon in Light's Fall had been non-functioning. The Icon in Millhaven was nonexistent. We had to do something. I might make it until next light without shelter or protection, but the others would not.
The others were having their own visions. Visions of the past, or perhaps memories of what had happened in this place. There had been an outbreak of a horrible sickness, a disease no one had seen before. The scenes the others were witnessing showed a truly terrifying affliction. Unnatural, uncontrollable nausea. Fever-induced delusions. Black lines creeping steadily over the body, as if some darkness were taking over the person from the inside out. And, it had all started with a single patient. The unstoppable, incurable plague had emanated from a solitary home. It soon became clear that the key to any answers we hoped to find lie in exploring that house.
Rosemary was coming to believe that she had known this place, and that she was somehow tied to all of this. Her memories were coming back. As she lead us through the coven, she revealed that the house she was leading us to, the house where all this started, used to be hers.
It was a small place, nondescript. It would have been quite cozy under other circumstances. There was no denying that someone had been very, very sick here, however. Dark stains around the bedroom area, the unmistakable smell of illness, even after the place had been abandoned for what seemed like quite a while.
A quiet Rosemary took a framed photograph from the nightstand. It was her, smiling and happy, standing with a man and a young girl. Her husband and daughter.
"James..." I heard her whisper, giving the picture a longing look as she tucked it away. "Jennika..."
It was Rosemary's daughter who had fallen ill first. Or was it Rosemary? The memories and visions remained unclear. Something they had found below ground had triggered the illness.
The coven had originally been nothing more than an archeological dig, but what they had discovered was so big that the coven grew rapidly around the site. A silver coffin, with unintelligible writing on it, and a body inside. Me. If this vision could be trusted, it wasn't Rosemary or Jennika who was the cause of all this. It was me. If I'd been left buried, if I'd died with Arcadia, maybe none of this would have happened.
Metatron, for better or worse, took the water jugs we found there. It was the only water that we had found that looked safe. Everyone acknowledged it might not be. We had no way of knowing if the infection was still around, or how it was spread. But, it was either drink this water and risk possible contamination, or die of thirst. I knew which one I would chose.
Luckily, we managed to find a relatively safe place before night fell. It seemed to have been a governmental building of some description before it was abandoned; perhaps something like a City Hall. Fractal managed to crack the security code. Or maybe he just shorted out the lock. Either way, we got inside. It was dark, and dirty, and generally unpleasant, but the others seemed to think it would keep out the worst of what night would bring. And there was an added bonus. Whatever had happened here, someone had apparently had enough time to disassemble the Icon. It was all here.
Rosemary and Fractal spent the next many hours working on the Icon, trying to get it back together. Night passed without too much damage. Or maybe it was passing a night without an Icon that brought on what came next. Or maybe the water had been contaminated after all. Whatever the cause, over the next day, while Fractal and Rosemary tried to fix the Icon, everyone began to get sick. Everyone but me. They were all beginning to show the symptoms from the visions. I watched, terrified, as they got sicker and sicker. I wasn't sure which would be worse; falling to the plague I saw around me, or being immune and ending up completely alone in a world in which I knew no one and didn't belong.
When light returned, we went out of the building in search of food. The others all looked worse for wear. Metatron had visible dark lines creeping up his neck. Grace looked shellshocked and exhausted. Kassandra seemed hollow and listless. And Fractal... Fractal was so ill and low on image (the essence of a Poe, almost like a soul, I learned later) that he became another person for a brief while. A woman, a different Rosemary.
As for myself, I wasn't showing any physical symptoms, but the stress was getting to me, to say the least. I kept slipping into my own visions, a part of me seeking solace, or at least assistance, in Alastor and Arcadia. And it worked, to a point. The visions felt more concrete, more rational, easier to understand, than what I was being assured was the "real," "waking" world. I began to wonder what, exactly, kept drawing me back.
Night began to fall a second time before the Icon was fully reconstructed. The atmosphere was tense. No one really had energy for talk. As Rosemary and Fractal worked as quickly as we could, the rest of us stood guard at the door. Well, mainly Metatron. He seemed to be clinging to the responsibility of guarding us in the same way I was clinging to my re-emerging memories of Arcadia.
The night almost passed without incident. Almost. But then, just as we were looking for the light to return, there were sounds of a struggle coming from just outside the door. We ran to the door, and found Metatron under attack by some kind of humanoid monster.
As harsh and dark as it sounds, being in battle felt good. It felt real, solid, something I could DO. So, I jumped into the fray. As I fought, memories came to the surface. I had fought things like this before. Dark things, otherworldly things, things no one else could deal with. And Alastor had been by my side.
The creature was strong, and the fight was difficult. We finally had it cornered and beaten back, almost beaten. Rosemary was wielding a long, jagged piece of black metal, coming at the beast to deal the final blow. And then there was a flash, very brief, of the man this monster used to be. The man in the picture Rosemary had taken from her old house.
"James," she whispered, grinding to a halt. "James, I am so sorry. I don't know how this happened, to you... to me. But, I promise, you won't suffer any more."
Rosemary took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and drove the piece of steel through the creature's heart.
The creature sank to the ground, and Rosemary sank with it. She whispered an almost inaudible farewell to a man that she had once loved. I wanted to help, to take her pain away. The best I could do was hold her as the sobs racked her body.
Light eventually came, but it didn't bring the relief we had been expecting. The Icon was reconstructed, but still nonfunctional. It was missing a piece, apparently. There was a brief discussion among the others, who had a little more knowledge of the workings of this world than I did. There was not, however, enough time to come to a conclusion. They never even quite got to explain to be what the missing piece, the piece they called the Effigy, actually did before the earthquake hit.
The rumble shook the ground so hard it made it hard to stand, even for me, with my cat-like balance. We ran down the hill, and were faced with a gaping void where there used to be ground and buildings. And from the crater...
From the crater was rising something out of a nightmare. A huge structure of twisted metal and tubes and rusted steel. Darkness and corruption pulsed out from it, covering the entire area. The machine rose and grew until it blotted out the light in the sky the others called a Daedelum. And on the top... The thing that crowned this mockery, this exact opposite of what I'd been told an I con is supposed to be, was something so horrible it is still difficult to talk about.
It was a female figure, or it might once have been. Now it was mutilated almost beyond recognition. The throat was torn out, hoses and wires shoved into the bloody hole. Other tubes and wires and pieces of jagged metal cut into the body as well. It gave the impression of live barbed wire.
The creature began to speak, or at least make its thoughts known. I don't remember precise wording, but the purpose was clear. Pain, retribution, condemnation. Rosemary took it hardest. The figure's face began to take on features that could have been seen as the face of the girl I had seen in Rosemary's picture. Or maybe Rosemary herself. Whoever else this creature may once have been, she had been patient zero. And the town had tortured her to death to try to stop the plague from spreading further.
Metatron tried to draw out the corruption using his centroglyph, his unique talent, but it was no use. Even with us helping, there was just too much. There was nowhere for the corruption to go, and he couldn't burn it fast enough.
I was ready to try my luck with a hand to hand fight, but before I could, Fractal grabbed me by the arm.
"Come on," he whispered urgently. "Come with me. I have to show you something."
He dragged me up the hill, back to the city hall and the reconstructed icon. I stood there, dumbstruck for a moment. I'm not sure how long it actually took me to find words again, but I eventually managed a question.
"Fractal, why are we here?"
"Look at the Icon," he said, hands on my shoulders. "Look at the top, and tell me what you see."
I looked for a moment, still bewildered. "Nothing, Fractal. There's nothing there. Now what does..."
"Do you trust me?"
My heart fluttered. Someone else had asked me that question before. Someone very important to me. And this felt the same, somehow. So I gave Fractal the same answer I'd given Alastor back in Arcadia.
A calm, certain, "Yes."
"What would you give to save the others?"
I didn't know, exactly, what he was getting at. I still don't know exactly why I said what I said. But, he had struck a chord, and I knew I had to do something. So I gave the answer that felt right.
"I'd give myself."
And then I felt the knife in my back. I wasn't angry. I didn't feel betrayed. In a way, I felt relieved. Maybe this was what needed to happen. If I could save the others by giving up myself, then so be it. Maybe I could rest. Maybe I could go home. Maybe I could be with...
"Not what you were expecting, is it?"
Alastor. I was with Alastor again. I opened my eyes, smiling, but his expression was stern, and full of disappointment. It wasn't until that moment that I realized what I'd done.
"No. To be honest, I don't know what I was expecting. It felt like a way to help, like the right thing to do. But, maybe I was just trying to get home."
Alastor looked at me, a spark of compassion in his eyes. He looked older somehow. Tired. Like the weight of the world was heavy on his shoulders. "Walk with me," he said.
I followed, but I was too ashamed to meet his eyes. It hurt to know he was so disappointed in me.
"You can't go home, Delilah," Alastor said softly. Even looking down, it took me a moment to realize our feet were no longer on anything solid. We had left the balcony behind, and were walking along a starry path over an empty void. "Arcadia is gone. We've been over this."
I nodded sadly. "I know. But, this new world is so confusing, so strange. I don't understand anything about how it works. I don't belong there."
"And what about the people you met there? What will happen to them with you gone? Do you think they'll be all right?"
I thought about it for a moment, picturing each of them in my mind. Metatron's unflagging strength. Kassandra's quiet wisdom. Rosemary's tender tenaciousness. Fractal's incessant off-beat comments. "Yeah. I think they will be"
Alastor looked at me with a frown. "I've been around a long time. You know that."
I nodded.
"All that time, just trying to keep the world going, to keep myself going. A lot of people fell along the way, Delilah. Friends, enemies, perfect strangers. And as each one fell, it enabled me to go a little further, climb a little higher. I climbed a mountain of bones to get as far as I did."
I didn't look down, but I noted uncomfortably that the feel of the terrain was different. We were on an incline now, the once smooth path now rough beneath our feet.
"I remember them all. " Alastor said somberly. "I made a promise to myself long ago that if I was going to profit from their loss, they would be remembered as long as I was around."
"So remember them," I said, trying to smile despite my suddenly heavy heart. "You aren't gone yet."
Alastor smiled sadly. "No. My fight is over. I'm not really anywhere anymore. I'm just another addition to the pile."
"Is that what you want for yourself, Delilah? To become just another addition to the pile?"
A new voice, but a familiar one. I turned to see a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin walking toward us. Tiny scars covered every visible inch of his skin. His tattered trenchcoat fluttered in a nonexistent wind.
"Adam..." I said, memories of my short time knowing him suddenly flooding back.
"Arcadia is gone, along with everyone and everything in it. Except for you. You're what's left. If you give up, it's gone forever. There won't be anyone to remember all those who came before. Is that really what you want?"
Adam's words kindled a fire in me I thought had died out. I could still fight. I could still keep going. I could keep Arcadia alive, through me. But, I couldn't do it here.
"I need to go back. I still have work to do."
They both nodded.
"There's a problem with that, though," Alastor said, chin in his hand, thoughtful expression on his face.
I looked at him quizzically, and then it hit me. My body was still dead on the floor in front of the Icon.
"How do I fix this?" I mused aloud.
"Well, your friend Fractal seemed to have a plan," Alastor commented thoughtfully. "And it might even work. But it would leave you changed."
Changed. Though I couldn't say why. the sound of the word on his lips sent a shiver up my spine. And, what would happen to Fractal if the others discovered what he'd done? Would they ever be able to trust him again? No. It couldn't be that way.
"There is another way," Adam said, almost slyly.
Not quite following, I gave him a questioning glance.
"If I remember correctly, after I... left, you were able to learn one of my tricks."
I smiled in revelation. "Journey between seconds! Do you think I can still use it?"
"The rules are a little... lax here. I think you could manage."
"One more time then," I laughed as I began to concentrate. "For old time's sake."
Everything froze, and then there was the odd sensation of time rewinding. I found myself, once again, being dragged toward the Icon by Fractal.
When we reached the privacy of the building, I stopped him, reaching out to take his hand before he could go through with his plan.
"That knife you're holding isn't the way, Fractal. It won't work."
He just stared at me for a long while, looking dumbfounded. "I... what? How did you?"
I sighed. "Look, I'm not mad. It's just not going to work, is all. We need to find another way."
After taking a moment to gather his composure, Fractal gave me a long, contemplative look. And then, slowly but surely, I saw the beginnings of a smile play at the corner of his lips as an idea formed in his head.
"Okay," Fractal said, the slight smile turning serious again. "I know I can't expect you to, considering what I was about to do to you, but I'm going to have to ask you to trust me."
"I told you, I'm not upset. You were only going to do what I was going to let you. What's the plan?"
Fractal studied my expression for a moment, and then nodded. "I want to put you-" he pointed to the top of the Icon. "up there. Are you game?"
"What will it do to me?"
"To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. I don't think it will kill you again, though. And if I'm right, it'll get the Icon running again, and help get us all out of this mess."
"Okay," I said, trying to muster a tone of certainty I didn't quite feel. "Let's do it."
We climbed to the top of the Icon, and I nervously took my place. Fractal flitted around, gathering the ends of various wires and electrodes and attaching them to me. The process was surprisingly painless. In fact, the only discomfort at all came from the tedium of remaining patient and still while I could hear the sounds of battle drifting in from outside. Finally, Fractal's frantic activity came to a halt. He took one last look at his handiwork, and nodded.
"I think that does it," Frac said, looking at me. "I'm gonna climb down, put this thing on a timer, and climb into one of the regeneration pods. When you see the others, let them know to do the same."
I don't remember the others returning, don't remember telling them to get into the pods. It must have happened, though, because my next clear memory is of the five of us floating in nothingness. My guess now is that Frac's plan had worked. Having me take the place of the missing Effigy got the Icon running, giving us access to the Noosephere, the ether where the images of Poe go when their bodies are in the Icon being repaired. It was restful, relaxing.
But then, I found myself being pulled away from the others.
I saw a light, more brilliant and beautiful than any I'd ever seen, and a force within that whiteness was drawing me toward it.
There was a darkness beyond darkness, and a force in the black was beckoning me closer.
And then I realized I was not alone. Four strangers stood with me, all drawn by the same force.
A gruff, weathered looking man in a cowboy hat and duster. Elias.
A young woman in dirty coveralls, sandy blonde hair falling just below her ears. Rosemary.
A tall woman with short, light brown hair, obviously accustomed to physical labor. Tess.
A starry-eyed wisp of a woman with long, wild dark hair. There was an air of mystery about her, accentuated by her peculiar dress. Kassandra.
A shorter, lean man, wearing glasses and neatly tied back hair. Doctor Mendoza.
A weathered warrior. The clothes couldn't hide the muscle underneath. They also couldn't hide the patch over his eye. Metatron.
And a man who's attire ( a floppy hat, long coat, and a scarf) kept me from seeing much more than his eyes. But his eyes were enough. The pain, the loss, the trauma he had suffered, was clearly visible in them. Quovardis.
And a small, wiry man with short black hair and olive skin. He wore a tattered, dirty lab coat over a blacksmith's apron. Goggles covered his eyes. He looked on the verge of laughing uproariously, or snapping outright. Fractal.
We were all confused, looking first at each other, and then at our surroundings.
There was a giant tree, beautiful and shimmering in (or maybe with?) the brilliant light. The peace and comfort that radiated out from it was like nothing I had ever felt before. In that moment, I knew to the core of my being that no harm could ever come to me in that space. I knew, before the warm voice even began speaking, that I was in the presence of a higher power. I'd dealt with higher powers before. Hell, I'd been raised by one. I just wasn't sure how to react to one that invoked love and security rather than darkness and fear.
There was a great cauldron, filled to the brim with a dark, noxious substance. Some moments it bubbled and slurped, looking like boiling tar. Other times, it was still, smooth as glass and shimmering like an oil slick. In the distance, I could almost make out the outline of a shadowy form. A throne of some kind. Made of bone, perhaps. Or twisted steel. The presence of something awful and dark, something with power over me. Memories, fleeting but strong, flashed through my mind. I knew this, had felt this terror many times before, in some other life. The familiarity calmed me, and it was clear to me what had to happen next. I was beginning to move even before the cold voice spoke its dreadful command, sending a tremor to my very core.
"Rest, my children."
"Drink."
There was no question that we would obey.
The light continued to bathe us, giving reassurance that a part of my ordeal, at least, was over. I felt myself healing, felt the tension and exhaustion leaving my body. More trials almost certainly lay in store, but I began to feel as if maybe I could handle them after all.
I moved forward first, taking a goblet full of the terrifying substance. It burned all the way down, and sat like a stone in my stomach, cold and unyielding. I didn't speak. No words were necessary. There was no bargain to be struck. It was this, or oblivion.
When next I came to my senses, I was back in Lightsfall. I climbed out of the Icon with the people I had seen around the shining tree. Elias, Tess, Quovardis, and Doctor Mendoza were all very accepting and welcoming. Or at least they tried to be. We tried to help each other piece together what had happened. I don't think they knew what to make of me. I know they didn't know what to make of the fact that they had known me, or at least some version of me, before the shining tree. They had found her underground, hidden away, and in such bad condition that they had been shocked when she awoke. She had been disfigured, violated, by whatever force had brought her back . She didn't even have a name. I began to wonder; if I was here, was she with the others?
My next clear memory is of opening my eyes to a desert landscape. The others who had drank from the cauldron were with me. Disturbing scraps, akin to carrion but even more revolting, littered the sand around us. Looking at it brought visions of five monstrous creatures descending on a sixth, and eating it alive. Was that... the five of us? And what had that other creature been? The others called me by a name that wasn't mine, a name that conjured memories I didn't want to have. Who was this 'Delilah'? Why was I connected with her? And why, WHY, did her name stir memories in me of another life that I never lived? I missed the others, the ones who had found me in the cave where I awoke. If I was here, was Delilah with them?
And then I saw her.
She was walking toward the city hall as we walked out the door. Another me, but scarred, pale, haunted. I couldn't help thinking, guiltily, that I'd clearly gotten the better end of the bargain. Or maybe... maybe I looked like that now? It wouldn't surprise me, given what I'd been through. . I stared at her as she walked toward me.
She was standing in the doorway of the city hall as we made our way up the hill. I watched her tail twitch in curiosity. Her long black hair ruffled with the breeze. She watched me with eyes more green than they had a right to be. How could she look so untouched, so innocent, after all this? Memories flashed through my mind of a past life, a life lived long ago by someone who looked like her. Not like me. I could never look like that again. I wondered if she had seen what I'd become.
The others were with her. I'd like to say I was relieved, but I think I knew all along. Plans were discussed, but I heard little of it. All I knew was that she had to leave this place with the people I wanted to be with.
I embraced her, telling her to take care of the others. Quovardis had managed to find a working skiff, somehow, so Elias, Tess, Doctor Mendoza, Quovardis and I set off for Absolution. I could only hope...
She hugged me, and asked me to take care of her friends. I couldn't find words to ask the same of her. I watched them leave, on their way to Absolution. Our skiff was almost ready, and we were planning to head for Absolution as well, though via a different route. As I heard the engine start, something in me knew
We would meet again.
In Absolution, things were calm. I rested, and tried to relax and get to know my new travel companions. But I couldn't help worrying about the friends I'd left behind. What path had they taken, to put them so far behind us? Had something happened to them in the desert?
As I worried about them for the millionth time, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Something had happened to them. I knew it. Visions of their bodies laying in the sand, unmoving, wouldn't leave my mind's eye.
"Something's wrong, something's happened to them," I gasp without even realizing I'm speaking.
Tess was by my side, steadying me. Elias was at my other elbow a moment later. They gave each other a meaningful glance over my bowed head.
"Delilah, I..." Elias struggled for words. "They knew the route was dangerous. And you saw the darkness in them. Corruption. Maybe... Maybe it's better this way."
"No... No they can't be..." A flood of nausea washed over me, and I would have collapsed if Tess and Elias hadn't been next to me. Tess picked me up and carried me to the bed. Lying down helped, enough that I was only half unconscious when Dr. Mendoza came in with the town doctor. Doctor Jeremiah McCoy was a tall, thin, gruff looking man. He had a buzz cut, worry lines, and perpetually had a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. The tattoos on either side of his neck gave rise to his nickname: Skulls.
Doctor Skulls examined me, curiosity evident on his face.
"I've never seen anyone quite like you before. Can you tell me where you're from?"
"Ever heard of Arcadia?" I ask with a wry grin.
He must have took it for delirious ramblings, because his questioning of me stopped there. He turned to Doctor Mendoza instead. "You're sure she's showing no symptoms of the plague? Didn't you say she was in Light's Fall?"
"I'm certain this is something different," Mendoza responded. "The plague moves incredibly fast. She would have been showing symptoms well before now."
"Then, what do you suggest, Doctor?"
"Some time in the Icon should do the trick. Think you could find her an open regeneration pod?"
Completely unnerved at the prospect of getting in an Icon, I couldn't figure out how to voice my worries. How could I make them understand that I wasn't a Poe, that I didn't know if an Icon would help me. It might even make things worse. I'd come out of the one in Light's Fall okay, I guess, but who's to say that wasn't a fluke? Tess must have seen the look of fear in my eyes, because she moved to my side and put a reassuring arm around my shoulder.
"Let the doctors help you," she said softly. The expressions on the faces of the others said they agreed. And so, I relented. I let them put me in a regeneration tube. The door hissed closed, I closed my eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
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