Slumrat Rising

His name was Truth Medici, and he was not alone. He didn’t have to work alone, think alone, fight alone. Truth Medici shared his life with another- Etenesh. And Etenesh loved him. Truly, wholly, passionately. He could feel her obsession, her need for something real and tangible she could devote herself to, and it was Truth. In this place… there was no need for trust or belief. There was only the connection.

It was at this moment that Truth truly believed that he was loved. That he was worthy of love and capable of loving in return. He knew that he was more than a violent beast, or a thug with a spell, or any of the other belittling names he put on himself. He was Truth Medici, who loved Etenesh, and was loved in turn.

The chanting of the cultists formed a background drone that worked with the enchantments in this place. Connecting the two of them to both the mountain below and the heavens above. Truth could see it now, could finally understand what cultivation was.

It was the unification of the mage and the universe. It was to continuously perfect oneself and approach God, as Truth and Etenesh perfected each other in their union. The opening of the nine apertures wasn’t the end of cultivation. How could it be? Truth groaned and bit Etenesh on the shoulder. When you reach the peak of this world’s cultivation, what was the next step? What wonder would be born from that union?

He was in a state of divine ecstasy, lost in the joys of the flesh as his mind and soul were lifted heavenward. He felt Etenesh’s Nous with him. They didn’t plunge into the heavens, merely looked up. To cultivate, to grow as a mage- to approach the heavens. To one day become a stellar eminence? Did it matter so long as they did it together?

They fell back down into their bodies. Two became one. One became none. And from nothing was born everything. A timeless, selfless moment of divine joy. It lasted for a moment, or an eternity, or just long enough.

When the moment passed, the two lay cuddled up on the grass. Covered in sweat, smiling like fools. Happy. Just happy to be in the moment together. It was Etenesh who stirred first, rolling onto her belly to look Truth in the eyes.

“You know I love you.”

“You know I love you too.” Truth smiled.

“You do. I could feel how much you wanted this to be real. That desperate ache in you. I’m real. This is real. You are loved. You are not alone.”

“Neither are you, Etenesh.” This time it was Truth’s turn to lovingly caress the syllables and let them trip lightly from his mouth.

“How was your first time?”

“Magical.” Truth grinned. It was a wonder to Etenesh- loving, mischievous… young. For the first time she could remember, Truth had put down all his pain and was simply happy. Not healing, not content. Happy.

She prayed she never forgot this one singular moment. The one fragile second when her beloved put down the blade.

She could feel it slipping away. They were no longer in that perfect eternity, and soon the blade would be fused back into him. This was her chance. Her only chance.

“It doesn't have to be just this once, you know. What was done with ritual magic can be done with practice and skill. Two people who love and trust each other totally. They can find that perfect union, that peace, all on their own.”

“Oh really?” Truth’s smile deepened. “I like the sound of that. A lot. I don’t think I would enjoy normal sex much after that.” Her heart sang, but she knew her man and replied-

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Mr. Medici.”

Truth admired her, the curves of her, the way her eyes burned with ocher, and her voice thrilled with heavenly harmonies. Her god was upon her, and he found he loved her and desired her in every form. She leaned her forehead against his, gently running her nails along his arm.

“All kinds of things become wonderful when you have the time.” She murmured. “And we can make the time.”

“The one thing I seem to always be short on.” Truth smiled. The pain was coming back. She could see it, and it hurt her too. But she had to try.

“We don’t have to be. You don’t have to be. The end of this world is ordained by God. He turned his back on us, let us ruin ourselves, and now we reap the consequences. But we won’t all die. You and I won’t die. This world will one day be reborn, holy and new. A blessed garden for those who lived. Let’s retreat up into the mountains. You are a mighty warrior. Finding food will be easy. I’m a ritualist. I can teach, and I can learn. I will garden, and keep the house, and teach the generations of our line.”

Her eyes were fever bright, staring into his.

“We will be that first couple of the new world, and our children will be mighty and wise.”

“Children already?” Truth murmured, lost in her. “I can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine what a good father looks like, let alone being one.”

“I can teach. You can learn. This is Siphios, beloved. You think we are sexual libertines because we seem casual about sex before marriage. Not so. We just make sure that we know ourselves, so that when we get married, we can give our everything to it. Both partners, equally, though not identically, committing totally to their ideal of marriage in the faith.”

“The “pre-nuptial” spells.”

“Yes, literally cast immediately before the sacrament of marriage.” She rolled Truth on top of her, guiding him to pin her hands above her head as her expression turned fanatic.

“Anything. I will promise you anything. Everything you need to feel safe. To feel desired. To feel at peace. Anything that is in my power to give, or that one day will be, I will give it to you. Just so long as you promise me that you will always be mine, and mine alone. That you will stay with me. That you will not return to Hell, blade in hand, but live in peace with me in the mountains.”

She writhed underneath him, pressing against him. Her body as sincere as her words.

“I will give you everything, and the world itself will be ours. The evil ones turn on each other and consume one another already. I will give you everything, so long as you stay with me, always.”

“My family-”

“You owe them nothing. NOTHING. Your parents are monsters unworthy of the name. You have no kin beyond your siblings, who you raised them at the cost of your very life and soul. You sacrificed far more than any demand of blood. Far more. The world tortured you. I wondered why you could fearlessly charge into hoards of demons. How could they be any worse than the Hell of your life? You. Owe. The World. NOTHING.”

Her voice trembled, grief and rage twisting around each other, feeding on each other.

“Why keep fighting? Fighting against the will of God. Fighting against the mighty and their armies. Against the entire world, and even your own desires. Why not win, by refusing the battle? Why not win, by leaving and being happy. With me. Forever.”

He kissed her hard on the mouth. Not even sure what he was feeling, just that it was overwhelming him, and she was there and so willing. He could see it. He could see it! How often did he want to just throw up his hands and walk away?

It could be his new dream. Not some dreary C-Tier apartment in an anonymous block of apartments. A little house in the mountains. A hut they made, or better still, an existing home who’s owner decided to relocate. He could learn to hunt. He would bet he was good at it. He wouldn’t farm, that could be Etenesh’s job. Maybe they would keep goats. Have a dozen fat kids running around.

Kids he would never hit. Kids who would never, ever miss a single meal. Who knew that their parents supported them and encouraged them. Kids who wouldn’t have to wait a lifetime to know they were loved.

It had taken Truth a heavenly vision, meditation on the nature of a snake god, friends, counseling, and ultimately the love of a good woman to finally, barely, believe he was loved. It shouldn’t take that much. Not for his kids.

He could see it in his mind's eye- the little house, timber clad, metal-roofed, on the side of a mountain stream. Goats and chickens in a pen, a kitchen garden just outside the door. Etenesh, pregnant again, joyfully laughing and scolding the children to do a better job getting the eggs. Not to fear the pecks and scratches. He was there too. His son ran up and hugged him around the waist. Not afraid of him. The boy just loved his father and couldn’t wait to show him.

“No tears, beloved. No tears. It can be yours. It can all be yours. We can pick out names on our way up. We won’t even go back to the city- just jump on your iron horse and ride to our heaven. Just say you give up on this world. Just admit to yourself that you are done with this horror. That you are ready for love, happiness, and acceptance.”

“The magic will fade. We will be too unreal to cultivate. Our forever will be short.”

“No, it will be forever. Our bodies may grow old and die, but each moment will be an eternity of bliss. Together forever, in life and death. See the house, beloved. See our children, our livestock, our love. Can’t you see it? Can’t you hear their laughter? Our laughter? Do you still smell of sex? I bet I do. Our kids will laugh at us and make faces at their embarrassing parents. And we will shake our heads and scold them, and our hearts will be singing, singing, singing with joy.”

He could see it. He could hear it. He could smell it and feel the echoes of joy reverberating back in time toward him. He could be this happy. It could all be his. He just had to choose. Give up on everything. On everyone. A final, grand act of selfishness after a lifetime of service to others.

Hadn’t he earned it? Hadn’t he done enough? By any measure, he had, surely. He deserved his happy ending. What could be more perfect than front-row seats to watching the world burn?

So why was there that little discordant clatter, like an empty beer can down a stairwell? Like the giggle of someone who finally got their fix? He would be getting away from all that. He would watch the world rupture, then be clean.

What exactly did he want to do, going back to Jeon? Kill Starbrite? He wanted revenge on the System, certainly, and he wouldn’t mind seeing Starbrite get a kick in the nuts… but that was really Merkovah’s dream. The System and Starbrite would eat shit anyway when the magic faded from the world.

Rescue the sibs? He did want that. That little bit of familial love was all he had for most of his life. That sense of duty to them was all that had gotten him through the bad years. Which, even if you counted the dead time, was most of his years. That could have been his tombstone- “Here lies Truth Medici, loyal as a dog, and like a dog, his life was nasty, brutal, and short.”

But he did love them and wanted them safe and well. This might happen if he did nothing, but given the desolation that would be Jeon as the world ended… probably not. They were tough kids. Slum kids, with a good education. But a bomb or a falling building didn’t care about any of that shit. If he wanted them safe, he would have to go do it himself.

The girl? Did he want to save the little Shattervoid girl? Honestly, he didn’t care. He didn’t kidnap her, and he died protecting her. Likewise, he didn’t much care about getting off-world.

Hey, he would need to renegotiate his fee. If he saved the girl, and they killed Starbrite, he would need tickets for the sibs.

And for himself? For Etenesh? Would they want to start a new life on a new world, or would they join hands and watch their magic fade away? Happy to live simple lives in the healing garden. With big floppy dogs and playful otters in the river. His happily ever after- being exactly where he would have been if he didn’t go to Jeon. Didn’t return to Hell.

So why was there that damn rattle in the pipes, that damn corpse stink from the dumpster?

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