RE: Monarch

Thoth was stuck.

A poignant silence grew between us. I could feel Thoth’s anger, her rage crackling, the glowing yellow of her snakelike eye pulsing. “You will give me an explanation,” Thoth finally said.

My eyebrow shot up. “Not sure that I owe you anything.”

“More than you could ever possibly repay.”

“I don’t even know who you are.” The statement was a gambit. It was true that up to this point, Thoth had some level of fixation on me. The question was how much. Manipulation of nations and world events was busy work. I’d referred to her by name more than a handful of times, but perhaps she hadn’t had time to observe me all that closely.

Thoth smiled wide. But the smile lacked her usually spiteful glee. “Nice try. But no. Someone, at some point, fucked up somewhere along the line. That’s the only reason you’re here. You know me. Say it.”

“Your name?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

I continued, taking back control of the conversation. “Because I doubt that’s really who you are. I did some research, amongst the infernals. Runic gods aren’t particularly well known. Styling yourself after the god of reckoning? No. It’s too on the nose, too intentional.”

She ignored the comment. “And what of Ghast?”

“The man in the cowl?”

“Child in the cowl.”

“Forever a child, if that’s what you’re asking. But from what I saw, I did you favor.”

Thoth shook her head, her voice cold. “He always did talk too much.”

I searched her stoic face for anything more. Any sign of distress, or anger. She was too experienced to give any visual response—but she appeared to find it almost entertaining when I killed her operative in Kholis, cackled about it if memory served. And she wasn’t laughing now.

“Oh well.” She leered at me, her eyes crinkling in a false smile that vanished as quickly as it manifested. “You know, you’re right. I was different, once. The person who named me was rather uncreative, rather full of himself. But eventually, I saw the wisdom in it. Creating an entirely new identity, someone unfathomably strong, someone to be feared.”

“So this is all an act then.”

“Oh no.” Thoth shivered, her smile turning cruel. “Maybe that was true once. That my guise allowed me to waylay guilt—it wasn’t really me, of course—I was just somewhere inside, a girl with too much responsibility watching a monster do what needed to be done. You must understand, with the way you’ve been acting. Like some noble hero out of a storybook, when we both know you’re nothing but a scared child with the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

I hated that she wasn’t wrong. The nights I didn’t wake, silently screaming, surges of unbearable anxiety gripping my heart in a steel cage that shrunk ever tighter, could be counted on one hand. I’d gotten better at hiding it, at pretending. But in the end, that’s all it was. The mask of a hero that hid the terror within.

My head began to throb. Not only did I have to be careful of every word, I had to consider every argument or comment I might have made in previous lives. I had to game my past selves, second guessing what they might have said to keep her attention.

Was there even a way to win this?

“Aren’t we the same, then?” I hated myself for asking. “We’re both pretending to be something we’re not. We’re both filling roles that no one else will and making it up as we go along.”

“Let me answer your question with a question.” Thoth leaned in, voice low, as if she was about to divulge some grand secret. “When you killed Ghast, did you pay his toll?” She was inches away. I fought the urge to distance myself.

“What?”

“Oh, perhaps you’re not familiar with the custom. It’s a human tradition, but Whitefall is a starless, godless city. In the times of your ancestors, those who died would be buried…”

“With two coppers, so they could pass into the afterlife, yes, I know it,” I snapped, annoyed with the random aside.

“No. The two coppers were a toll for Phlegyas, the ferryman, who carried the departed across the etherial river into the underworld itself. And those unfortunate enough to forget their purses—those who died, alone and unloved—are doomed to struggle on the shores, drowning in the mud for all eternity.”

“I’m aware of the myth.”

“Of course you are. Because you did it for Tusk. Slipped those copper coins right into his pocket. It was adorable.” Thoth laughed until there were tears in her eyes, wiping her eyes with her ruined hands, leaving streaks of blood across her face. “So, I’ll ask you again. Did you pay Ghast’s toll?” My stomach twisted, as I finally saw what she was driving at.

“No.”

Thoth chuckled. “That’s the difference between us, Cairn. The more I played this part, the more I liked it. It felt good to leave empathy behind. Cathartic. The more people I hurt, the more I realized I liked it. That the darkness suited me. That it was right. But it hasn’t been that simple for you, has it, noble hero?”

No.

But I had to remember who I was talking to. Someone who’d known me for perhaps longer than I’d known myself. Letting her get into my head here would be folly. I had to go on the offensive.

“I think you’re playing a game with people’s lives on the line. That you’ve been playing it for as long as you can remember, and it’s skewed your perspective—that’s hardly your fault, of course. It’s the purpose they gave you. But now you are cursed with a perspective and mindset that no one living can understand.”

“Stop trying to empathize and build rapport. It won’t work”

“Cursed to relive your life endlessly to achieve a nearly impossible goal. Tormenting others. Playing the part of the monster. How many cycles did it take until that was second nature?”

“Not long.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.” Thoth hissed. I could see her pulse in her neck. The darkness called to me again, but I pushed it down.

“Isn’t it about that time?” I asked, inclining my head at the mana well.

Thoth glared at me. “If you interrupt me—“

“I won’t.“

“—if you do, I will drown every one of those children hiding behind the pillars in this very pool.” Then, never breaking the stare, she plunged her hands into the glowing surface. Her face reddened, and her eyes began to water, but she held her silence. The only sound was her flesh sizzling, as the mana pulsed around her arms. It looked ever more excruciating up close.

“Enjoy this… while you can.” Thoth grunted out, her pain clear and evident.

I found, to my surprise, that I wasn’t. “I came here, expecting to find you taking the magical equivalent of an axe to the leyline. And that is not what I found.”

“It’s not what you think,” Thoth collapsed backwards, shaking her head. Her face was gaunt and tired. “Regardless of what Morthus told you. Wherever the hells that rat fuck is hiding. I can never find him.”

“My conversation with Infaris was far more enlightening,” I said. Thoth stiffened.

“That bitch.”

“It’s funny. I thought I finally had you pegged. But doing the sort of things they asked you to do? Seeing so much death, over and over. Anyone would lose themselves.”

“No. I discovered who I was.”

“How isolated you must have felt. How lonely. I assumed, perhaps foolishly, that you’d lost sight of the original goal, that you’d given yourself over to the chaos and the violence.”

Thoth looked hollow, staring down into the mana.

“You know nothing of loneliness.”

“I don’t know when, or how long ago, but at some point, you tired of the violence. I saw it. All of us. United against the darkness.”

“That was a long time ago. And we failed.”

I gestured to her, what she was doing. “And yet, here you are, purifying the corruption, at great personal cost.”

“If the prime leyline falls, the corruption spreads too quickly. I am doing nothing but buying time.”

There was a long and lingering silence.

“We will never be allies,” Thoth finally said.

“Of course”

“But… I am amenable to a ceasefire.”

I nearly let out a whoop, clamping down on it at the last possible second.

“You’ll remove the barrier?”

“It was meant to serve as a distraction—and has clearly failed its purpose. I have no quarrel with the Infernals, they are useful, have been of great help to me in the past, and will suffer most of all if I am interrupted.”

“That sounds dangerously close to sentimentality.”

Thoth rolled her eyes. “Pragmatism.”

It was all I could do to project confidence. The conversation had been more duel than dialogue. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead and down my chin, marking the stone beneath my knees with a dark wet shadow.

“I’m nearly finished, and I do not trust myself to hold to our accord if you are near. So go. And know that this is not a stay of execution” Thoth whispered, her blood-red lips thinning to white as her mouth tightened. “Your life is still forfeit.”

The feeling of victory within me flagged a bit. “And you still won’t tell me why?”

Thoth’s eyes turned thoughtful. “Maybe. At the end of all things.”

/////

I wish I could tell you that was how we parted. Everything would have been so much simpler, had we simply gone our separate ways as enemies with a new understanding. Perhaps, had that come to pass, the path that led me to you would not be quite so tragic, so difficult.

As I descended from the mana altar, a wide smile spread across my face. I wanted to laugh. To dance. The path that brought me here had felt so dire, for so long, that even the grim notion of a stay of execution felt like a pleasant dream.

My friends joined me, rising from their hiding places behind the pillars. Maya stared at me as if I’d gone mad, while Jorra and Bell slowly followed behind, Jorra walking with his back to mine, never taking his eyes from Thoth. I could picture us traveling back together, taking our time, finding the barrier rescinded on our arrival. Perhaps, route permitting, we’d stop at the lagoon again.

The feeling of elation was so strong, so overwhelming, that I’d forgotten the most important lesson I’d learned since the loops began: Everything is connected. Every action has consequences, and those consequences ripple far deeper and stronger than we can possibly imagine.

Maya looped her arm in mine.

“That’s it?” Bell asked, looking confused.

“Yep. There will be other days…”

Vogrin waited, his back to a pillar, grinning from ear to ear. My elation died in my chest.

I froze.

No.

A dark shadow blew passed me, so fast it was nearly invisible, dark and heavy, ruffling my hair.

This… Thoth. I want her.

“Ozra stop!” I screamed, spinning, trying to catch sight of him in the blur of motion. But he didn’t hear me.

Thoth did, however. She staggered to her feet, ritual completed, and stared back at me in a mix of confusion and contempt as I tore myself free from Maya and sprinted towards her, my heart pounding.

“Stop!”

Ozra collided with Thoth in a blur of violence and motion, driving a black chitin gauntlet into her jaw with enough force to shatter a boulder. Thoth flew backwards in a helpless spin, colliding with a nearby pillar. I willed him, with all my heart, to keep going. But no. He merely floated over her, gloating.

Stupid fucking demon.

Ozra called out to me as I approached. “Exceedingly clever, stalling like that. You—”

There is no going back now, little prince.

“End her!” I roared. I held the Infarai lens up, centering its focus on Thoth. There was a feeling of warmth and needles as an almost indescribable power welled into me. Thoth twitched.

Ozra’s eyes narrowed, the surrounding air turning dark. “I will not be—“

I didn’t hear the rest as I raced beyond him. Infaris had described the effect as temporary, so I need to maximize the moment. The broken dagger in my hand had been thoroughly coated with a combination of laudenshade and oak-bane, poison and paralytic combined.

Thoth’s jaw hung open in a macabre yawn, her mouth bloody and teeth broken.

A single, snake like eye opened.

I slammed my knee into her head, bashing it back against the pillar with a sickening crunch, then collapsed, driving the dagger into her thigh, looking for the artery. A spurt of crimson spattered the nearby ground. Thoth was staring at me. I sliced at her neck, instead leaving a gash in her chin when she tucked her head. She was in shock, her ruined hands coming up to fend me off, push me away. Her broken fingers clawed at my face.

Panting, I angled, catching an outstretched wrist beneath my chin, using my other arm to trap hers, hacking at the underside of her arm, clearing the armor and slicing through flesh.

Please. PLEASE.

“She’s done.” Ozra snarled, pulling me off her, lifting me entirely off my feet by the back-clasp of my armor. “Sate your bloodlust elsewhere, or there will be nothing left to interrogate!”

I struggled, calling out to the seed of flame I’d left on her back, willing it to burn upward towards her head, avoiding any cut flesh so as not to cauterize the damage. The scent of burning hair filled the air.

Thoth’s arm, bleeding profusely, slowly rose, shaking, trembling, finally completing its slow ascent to grab at the chain on her neck, revealing a slim silver medallion. Her voice resonated in my head.

Fuck you, for making me use this so soon.

A half-second later, she whispered again.

What a fool I was. To wonder.

There was a flash as a creature emerged from the darkness in a spectacular show of light. If it had a mouth, its face might have been beautiful. Its wings were those of a giant dove, it’s garments of the finest silk cloth, white, gold, and regal. It looked like a classic artist’s rendition of an angel.

It flicked a finger towards Thoth, a winding cord of emerald light surrounding her body, lifting her. The fire climbing her back extinguished at once as she hung limply in its grip.

“Asmodial,” The creature projected in a medley of clashing tones, its voice everywhere and nowhere.

“Decarabia,” Ozra seethed, his red eyes flashing. His casual air was nowhere to be seen.

A countless series of deafening explosions detonated as the scene exploded into chaos.

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