Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

Epilogue

 

Vincent! Come back! I called him through the Link. My protest sounded feeble, almost powerless.

He was walking away. He wasn't even looking at me. Like to him, I was something that did not exist and never would.

I want you to live. Vincent said.

I can't!

I watched him go. Watched him as he stepped out the Door and threw himself back in the hellish confines of Roselle's Labyrinth. Watched him face the enemies once more though his exhausted body could barely even stand straight.

You can. His voice was complacent, certain. I gave you your present—your freedom. The Helcium will protect you from wraiths and my kind. They won't even know you exist. It will keep you safe. You still have your own soul, Aramis. You don't need me.

I wanted to scream. He was wrong. I needed him more than I ever needed anybody. Not only because part of his soul was inside me. Or because he was my master. But because of something else. It was foolish of me for not realizing that sooner. I wasn't sure what it was, but I was sure of one thing: I needed him with me.

Now, please give me this as a present: live.

No.

You swore, Aramis. You said you'd give me anything if you get out of here... Vincent had never sounded this calm, this accepting.

I did say that. But I never thought he would use it against me.

I want you to forget about me. About my kind and what we do. Never try to find me. Don't ever try to come back. I want you to live, Aramis Rayne. Live a long human life... That's an order.

The crystal pendant on my chest glowed bright red, burning spots in my vision. Then, the Link was gone.

I watched as he endured the blows from the enemies, kept his head up until he was beaten to the ground. As his cheek hit the dirt, he fixed his pale eyes on me. They were so stoic, so calm. It was as if they were telling me that everything was going to be alright. And all I could do was call his name over and over again. Scrape dirt with my fingers. Struggle to crawl to the Door. Fall. And crawl again.

Vincent smiled that smile that reached his eyes. And I cried. I cried as hard as my flaccid body would allow me to. Perhaps, he couldn't even see me now. But he tried to look hopeful for me.

The Door gradually drifted up, up, away from him. Then that hole became smaller and smaller. It was repairing. In a minute, it was as though it had never been there.

Vincent was gone.

Now all I could see was a stretch of sickening crimson all around me. Red petals flitted down slowly from the sky like blood-stained snowflakes.

A terrible searing pain crept from my fingertips, slowly invading my system. No sound came from my mouth when I screamed.

Soon, the whole world was spinning. I couldn't feel anything anymore, like I didn't exist at all. My clouded mind could only succumb to the intense urge to sleep. Sleep and never wake up. Because all this pain—of loss, of guilt and betrayal—would kill me eventually.

In tedious silence, I contemplated on my life. And death. I questioned myself if all that had really happened. If any of that mattered now. Or was I just going mad?

"Vincent," I murmured. But then, I couldn't remember his face anymore.

Soon, I wouldn't even know his name no matter how hard I try to recall. No matter how hard I try to hold on. I knew it. Because he ordered me to.