Hexus

=36= Resign

Nothing.

Featureless and undefined, the dull white was spread out in every direction as far as she could see. It was the space between realms, the non-existential aether without laws to define reality. She couldn’t tell long she had been here. Time was a meaningless idea, for there was no way to appreciate it. She wasn’t even sure who she was.

Moira.

I’m Moira.

With that admittance, the memories came, images and sounds flashing through what she assumed was her consciousness. The emotions were even more powerful, overlaying all the remembrances like tints of colour. Happiness. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Deceit. Pain. Love. She liked the love. She looked through the memories of love. There was always a face. His face. She had to remember his name.

Nathan.

The memories gained new dimension. The places were no longer just scenic locations, but countries they had lived in and visited. America, Albania, Turkey, England, Pakistan, Japan. Places in which they sought happiness or refuge. Even the emotions became more meaningful, the positive ones more vibrant. And the pain. She didn’t want to face the pain. Or the anger. So much anger.

“You need to learn to control yourself. Such behaviour is unbecoming of a lady.”

The memory flashed by, as if on cue. A woman. Mother. Shouting at her over something. She remembered. She had stepped on a dog’s neck after it chewed on her favourite shoes. It was paralyzed after that, and had to be put down. Her anger was always a struggle, like a churning energy she had to expel. And it was over two hundred years before bubble wrap was invented. Anger always led destruction. She skimmed through the painful memories. Battles. Deaths. Friends who were hunted, tortured, maimed. Killed. Every loss was like a stab to her soul, another reason to get stronger. To protect her loved ones. To protect herself.

No matter the cost.

But the cost always mattered. She had been selfish. Her friends were the same. Birds of a feather, they say. She had seen all their deaths as unfair, and her pain drove her to vengeance. But looking at what they had done, without bias or emotion, perhaps they all deserved what they got. Thane tested his research on slaves, disregarding their suffering in view of results. Annabel, her best friend through all her years, once set an Areyan salamander on a group of travelling gypsies. No one likes the gypsies, she claimed.

But even gypsies and slaves were people too.

Every ally was the same. The new-age shaman, Bel, who abused her energy magic for personal profit. Tenzin, who served penance in the Tibetan mountains after drowning an entire village in their sleep. Sure, it was a war, but drowning was never the way to go. Lorenz, the psychotic werewolf cast out from his own pack and hunted by the Hexus for his numerous crimes. She accepted such people, ignoring who they were and the bad things they had done, because they shared a common enemy. She asked for their loyalty, and used it as a tool to help with her plans.

Loyalty.

Every related memory featured Nathan. The shy younger brother, born fifteen minutes after her. They had always been together. Through the secret magic lessons Mother had taught. Through the horror of watching her burned at the stake. Through their banishment, father’s death from pneumonia, the cold nights and scorching days spent on the streets. Nathan remained, ever loyal, ever dependable. Until he betrayed her. She had expected him to always stick by her, no matter the error of her ways, to sacrifice the world for her, when she would not sacrifice her anger for him. And even when he revealed why he worked against her, she chose to attack him for his betrayal rather than accept that he only acted in everyone’s best interests. Including hers.