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The Waystation Ch.111
🕑 Added 2023-12-27 09:05:01 +0000 UTCChapter 111
Time to make a change!
“I don’t want to do this!” Rose struggled in his grip as her feet touched down in deep mud.
“Yes. You said,” Death noted as he pointed ahead of them. “Now, look at that!”
Rose turned her eyes to the scene ahead of them.
It was a small campsite, with several people gathered around the small fire. An older couple were taking turns cooking over the flames, their white hair turning gold or orange as it caught the light. They nudged and bumped each other, occasionally bickering as each insisted they could do it better.
A younger man, lying next to the fire on a leather bedroll, laughed at their antics as a younger pair with dark hair and matching features handed a bottle back and forth between them.
“What about them?” Rose asked the god. “I don’t recognize any of them.”
“Why would you?” Death frowned at her.
“I just assumed you meant my past?” Rose said.
“Why?” Death looked back at the group. “What makes you so special?”
The little half-pixie glared at his back, afraid to move in the thick mud.
“Then why am I here?” She asked.
“It’s about lessons, Rose.” Death’s voice had lost its warmth. “Lessons you need to learn.”
“Can’t you just tell me?” She groaned. “I really want to see my sister!”
“I would, but you’re stupid. You won’t learn that way.” Death walked closer to the fire, circling the group as they talked and cooked.
“I’m not stupid!” Rose shouted at the god, who just laughed at her. “I’m not.”
“How did you survive the escape?” Death asked with a smile.
“You helped me?” Rose guessed.
“And how are you alive right now?” His voice was cold again, his eyes glinting like steel in the firelight.
“You are keeping me alive?” Rose guessed with a sinking feeling.
“Correct. Try not to make me change my mind.” Death turned his back to her, watching the fire again.
Rose joined him in watching the group. She didn’t really have a choice, after all. It was his show, and Rose knew the next time she woke would be in the Summerlands if she complained too much.
The group was actually nice. They were funny, with the bickering old pair, their children, and a friend they had met along the way. It was nice watching as they ate, drank, and did everyday things. A little glimpse of the kind of life she had always been denied, forever on the outside of such things.
As the night drew on, the group all took to their bedrolls with smiles and waves of good night.
The daughter took the first watch, waking their new friend when it was their turn to stand a watch in the early hours of the morning.
“They seem nice,” Rose spoke for the first time in hours as the man smoked a small pipe while shaking the sleep from his limbs. “I guess I never really appreciated the normal things. Is that the lesson?”
“No,” Death nodded to the man as the stranger went to find a place to empty his bladder.
He was halfway done, his sword leaning against a tree behind him, when a knife pressed into his neck, and a woman whispered in his ear.
“There are too many of us to fight, stranger.” She whispered to him from beneath the dark hood of her cloak. “You have a choice to make. Fight and die. Run, and live.” She vanished back into the shadows, her dark leather armor hiding her quickly beneath the trees.
The man hesitated as he looked back toward the sleeping family. His eyes flicked to the sword twice, and he opened his mouth as if to shout… but in the end, he chose to run into the darkness, his companions forgotten.
The world froze as Death turned to Rose.
“Well?” He asked her.
“What?” Rose asked. “He didn’t really have a choice. Why should he die for someone he just met?”
“Then watch.” Death clicked his fingers, and time flowed again.
The same woman who threatened the stranger crept from the shadows and, picking a knife from the fireside, carefully slit the throats of the sleeping family, one by one. The old woman woke when her husband managed to grab her hand as he died.
The struggle was brief but brutal.
As the bodies began to cool, the woman looted the camp and stole away into the night.
“Lying bitch!” Rose gasped. “She was alone!” She paused. “Why did she take one of their knives?”
“Hers was dull, a cheap fake.” Death grinned at her. “She would not even have been able to scratch someone with the knife she had.”
“Okay, fine!” Rose said, “But he had no way to know that! He made the best choice he could!”
“Did he?” Death laughed, and time blurred.
The same man who had run from the campsite was working a forge. His hair was grey, and wrinkles marked his face. His muscles shone in the forge light as he swung his hammer, shaping a horseshoe.
“Ho the smith!” A woman called from outside. “Ho the smith!”
“Out the back!” He yelled.
“Hey there,” A woman called, her voice making the man seem to hesitate as he swung the hammer. He missed the shoe, the hammer banging hard into the anvil.
“Who’s that?” He called angrily.
“Just a traveler looking for fresh shoes for my horse, no need for trouble!” The woman laughed, “A bit jumpy, aren’t you?”
Rose could tell it was the same woman. She dressed better now, her armor steel banded and a delicate bow on her back. A heavy coin purse hung from a rich leather belt.
“Have we met before?” The smith asked, his eyes searching the woman’s face.
“Careful,” She grinned. “Your wife might not like that comment,” She winked.
“You said you need shoes?” The man asked, shaking his head as he turned away from her to kick open the crate with the finished shoes inside.
“A fresh set,” The woman came up behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Hey, those ones look better than the rest; what gives?”
“Those are steel,” The man said proudly. “The Lord ordered them special.”
“Hmm,” She squinted over his shoulder. “How much did he pay?”
“A gold piece,” The man answered proudly. “And more to come if he likes them.”
“Well,” She jingled her coin purse loudly. “I want them. Two gold coins right now.”
“I promised them to him today.” The smith picked up his hammer and started working on another shoe set.
“Well, I guess you have a choice to make,” The woman said archly. “Two gold today, and the Lord waits a little. Or one tomorrow, and my gold is gone forever.”
“What did you say?” The smith’s eyes were bulging in the firelight.
“You have a choice to make,” She said behind him.
The smith spun, slamming his hammer into her skull.
The woman dropped like a stone, but the smith just kept swinging until there was nothing but blood and shards of bone.
“So she got what was coming to her,” Rose rolled her eyes. “I get it. Something about having my arms cut off made that point already!”
Death simply clicked his fingers again.
The man now stood on the gallows, his family weeping below him as he was asked for his last words.
“I heard her voice every night for years!” He yelled at the crowd. “I don’t care what anyone says; that was her!” He broke down and wept. “Killed them all, she did. I went back the next day and found them. One set of tracks. I could have saved them!”
The hangman pulled a lever, and the sound as his neck snapped was loud as the world faded to blackness.
“So what was the point?” Rose asked, her tone serious for once. “He died for doing the right thing, she for doing the wrong thing. Same difference!”
“We aren’t done,” Death smiled at her. “Why don’t we see what the other choice was?”
“Wait, what?” Rose asked, then stumbled as they arrived back at the campsite again.
“There are too many of us to fight, stranger.” The woman whispered to him from beneath the dark hood of her cloak. “You have a choice to make. Fight and die. Run, and live.” She vanished again into the shadows as the stranger hesitated.
“Wait, is this real?” Rose asked Death.
“It is,” He nodded. “Each choice makes two worlds. Everything that can happen must happen. Both timelines exist until the choice is made. The Gods and Goddesses can see them all.”
“ALARM! ATTACKERS! ALARM!” The stranger roared as he grabbed his sword and ran for the campfire.
The family all erupted from their bedrolls, and each one began to cast spells for light and tracking. The old man summoned spirits from the earth that flew into the forest with wails.
“Are you hurt, son?” The old woman called. “I can heal you if you are.”
“No, no,” He gaped at them. “You’re mages?”
“Got a sighting!” The old man called, his eyes glowing. “Just one attacker, a woman.”
“One?” The man whirled to face the forest. “She claimed there was a big group.”
“Phantasmal Sweep!” The youngest called, and a line of wailing ghosts shot out into the woods.
In no time at all, the woman sat bound and trussed next to the fire, weeping and begging for mercy.
“They were powerful?” Rose asked. “But they died so easily.”
“A good lesson to remember,” Death nodded. “But not the one you need right now.”
“Please!” The woman begged as the family gathered around. “I was desperate!”
The stranger argued for her to be killed, but the old timers let her talk. It was not exactly an original tale. A woman on the run from a wedding she never wanted, hungry, alone, but smart enough to try and trick. Desperate enough to kill when she had to.
By sunrise that morning, a decision had been made, and the woman was untied but watched.
Death clicked his fingers again, and time flowed by in a blur.
Another smithy, the same man again working the forge. The forge was bigger, his clothes better, and he worked on steel weapons as they watched.
“Ho the smith!” The woman’s voice made him miss his strike again.
“Helen?” He yelled, “Is that you?”
“Who else, ya daft old man?” She laughed as she strolled around the corner. “I need shoes for my horse.”
“Helen, for the last time.” He smiled at her, “I’m the Guild Armorer now. I don’t make shoes anymore.”
She pouted and whined theatrically until he laughed and pulled a set of shining silver shoes from a crate next to the forge.
“What happened to not making shoes?” She asked.
“I keep some around, just in case.” He grinned and wiped his hands on a rag as he took a break. “How are they?”
“Not bad,” Helen said with a sad smile, “Still missing their parents, even when grandparents themselves.”
“I miss them too,” The smith smiled back.
“Well, you have a choice to make,” Helen grinned. “They need a good armorer.”
“That’s no choice,” The man laughed and grabbed his hammer. “Lead the way.”
The world faded again as Death turned to Rose.
“One choice to cause harm, one choice to run, and so many lives ruined.” He waved as ghostly shapes filled the area around them until Rose couldn’t see where they ended. “All these people died because of those choices, and none of the people in the story ever met them. They were merely caught in the ripples of the act.”
“I don’t get it,” Rose admitted.
“Choices matter!” Death snapped. “When you make a choice that is best for you, remember that.”
Rose nodded mutely.
“Good,” Death clapped his hands. “Progress. Let’s move along to the present, shall we?”
=============
“Who in the hell is she?” Rose asked, bending over the woman as she wept. “She’s dressed really weird.”
“I believe it is called a pantsuit,” Death said as he gently stroked the woman’s hair. “Common enough where she comes from.”
“Where’s that?” Rose asked, noting the fine cloth and neat stitching. “It must be a pretty good place if this kind of stuff is common.”
“The same place as your Lord,” Death said mildly as he patted the woman on the back. “She really hates him, by the way.”
“Why?” Rose asked. “What did he do?”
“Destroyed the world,” Death sighed. “Not directly, and not on purpose, but in a roundabout way.”
“Fuck,” Rose gasped. “How?”
“By existing, by trying to survive, and by trying to help a lost and lonely little pixie.” Death chuckled. “They call it the Faepocalypse if you can believe that.”
“What’s her name?” Rose asked.
“Fiona DeGuerre, formerly an administrative assistant, now a Mage with a specialty in dimensional magic.” He laid his hand gently on her side as she stilled, her breathing calming. “She doesn’t really blame him, of course. She’s too smart for that, but it is easier than accepting it was just bad luck.”
“I’m guessing I’m missing the point again,” Rose slumped. “I don’t get the lesson.”
“Your Lord tried to help and caused an apocalyptic change in his own world,” Death sighed. “Understand?”
“Don’t try and help people?” Rose said doubtfully.
“No!” Death laughed. “You can never avoid doing harm, even if it is by accident.” He shook his head. “The lesson is that sometimes even the best intentions cause unseen harm.” He chuckled again as he stood. “Don’t try and help people!”
“Hey!” Rose complained.
Death smirked at her. “Come along; we have other places to go.”
“Can I choose where we go?” Rose asked, “I really want to see Lily,”
“Of course,” Death said as the world blurred again, “Whenever you want to choose where we go… just raise your hand.”
“Prick!” Rose yelled at the chuckling God as the world slammed back into place around her.
“Where are we now?” Rose grumbled as they walked through a gloomy, mist-filled space.
“Somewhere other than where we should be,” Death said quietly. “Someone you need to see.”
“Why?” Rose asked suspiciously.
“Because you are alike in many ways,” Death said as they came across a woman staring blankly into the darkness ahead of her. A torn, tattered cape fluttered from her shoulders as she stared ahead, seemingly lost in thought.
Her simple clothes were stained with blood, dirt, and something dark and oil-like.
Red hair flowed down her back and moved slightly in a breeze they could not feel.
“Is that who I think it is?” Rose felt herself whispering and drawing nearer to Death.
“Yes, and no.” Death nodded to the motionless figure. “She is and is not the one you met ever so briefly in the mists.”
“Which is why I agreed to this farcical idea in the first place,” Felicia said as she turned to glare at Death.
“FUCK!” Rose turned to run, falling into the mist as she tripped over her own feet. Screaming as the ground rushed up at her, Rose felt herself stop as mists rose to push her back onto her feet.
“I’m not going to attack you,” Felicia sighed and rubbed her face. She looked tired, drained in some way.
“She isn’t lying,” Death said mildly. “We have a little deal, don’t we, Felicia?”
“We do,” She nodded. “Can we hurry this up a bit? I have some things to deal with before I am ready.”
“Go ahead,” Death smiled.
“Look, Rose, is it?” Felicia said as she bent down to look the half-pixie in the eye, “Sometimes we think we want something, need something, and will do anything to get it. Sound familiar?”
Rose nodded, too afraid to even speak.
“Well, Rose, when things go bad enough that we lose everything, that is when we discover what is really important.” She nodded to Death. “He says you got close to that and that maybe, just maybe, I can help you never get those last few steps.”
Rose nodded again.
“Want the truth, little rogue?” Felicia grinned, and Rose felt her blood run cold as Felicia whispered in her ear. “There are no second chances, no going back, no getting it right next time. Done is done, and you have to live with the reality you make for yourself. Remember that.” Felicia patted Rose gently on the cheek and stood up again. “We done?” She held out a hand to Death, who sighed and handed her a sword that seemed to cut the very air apart as it moved through the mist. “Oh, kid?” Felicia looked back at Rose one last time. “When you move onto something real, something that matters? It feels better. Everything feels better.” With that, she strode into the dark tunnel, humming to herself as she started running.
“What was that sword?” Rose asked Death as he smiled after the figure.
“Something that could kill an immortal,” Death said sadly as the world began to fade.
“Hey Mum, I’m HOOMMEE!” Felicia’s roar was the last thing she saw before they stood in darkness again.
“What’s next?” Rose asked nervously.
“Next, Rose, we will see many possible futures,” Death’s voice began to ring hollowly around her as he grew. “You will not remember what you see when you wake, but your soul will.”
Rose turned, and a world of blood and screaming slammed into place around her.
============
Rose screamed as she jerked awake, fighting with everything she had to escape, to get away, her mind filled with the nightmares of a thousand lifetimes.
“Rose! Rose!” Lily’s voice broke over her screaming. “It’s okay, it’s okay! We have you, we have you.”
“You’re not Lily!” Rose gasped at the human woman who held her down so effortlessly. “Help!” She thrashed around.
“Rose, honey,” Wendy appeared in her vision. “That is Lily; she evolved; now be quiet, okay?”
Rose collapsed, more out of tiredness than anything Wendy had said, but she still felt better for seeing her.
“Right, we are headed home, Rose.” Wendy smiled. “Everything is all right now.”
Rose shook her head violently.
“It’s not all right!” She hissed, “They will come for me!”
Wendy grinned like a shark.
“What?” Rose asked as she noticed the thumps and bumps as they drove along.
“They already have!” Wendy laughed, “What do you think all those bumps are?”
“We’ve broken through!” Scruff called from somewhere at the front. “Looks like they are falling back.
“Great!” Wendy said with a wink at Rose. “Smooth sailing all the way back to the Waystation.”
Comments
Fortunis
Nice Scrooge moment. Let's hope it takes. Because they're exactly right. Immortality is a bitch when you've made all the wrong choices and are stuck living with them.
