Poem reading created and provided by roweterpsichore
https://youtu.be/nHMnEfDvvHs?si=kIclq4t-_nbYFvGp
The pits of the netherworld, the Flame first formed
With not but his mother, tired and worn
In her age as queen
A beast yet seen
Forced him to be sent away from the pits, now torn
In an age where so many are ripped apart
The Flame found his footings and made a start
Though some may die
And with no time to cry
His mother would one day reward their kindness, with a gift from her heart
Tango's chest filled with a crushing weight he'd never known until that point. Crimson red flooded the floor, and the older woman it was coming from didn't seem to get 2 more breaths out before her body stilled and her eyes clouded over.
He ran to her in horror, shaking her by her shoulder as if to try and wake her up, but to no avail. His tail curled around his leg, an unconscious action he made when he was distressed, as he let his tears flow down his face. The world was silent, safe for the crackling of distant flames and the popping of a lava pool just across from where they were. The netherrack dug into Tango's knees, but he would've stayed there a million years longer if he had the choice.
He nearly forgot about the winged man standing above him, looking on with his blue eyes as if he were shocked about what he'd just done, and he was. Just moments ago the man and Tango's mother were talking, nothing out of the ordinary at all. It was almost as if the netherborne blinked and missed whatever it was that killed her.
As soon as he heard shuffling behind him, Tango whipped around, jumpy and alert with fear. But the winged man just kneeled down beside the body, his head hung low and the wings aside his face folding over to cover his eyes. The netherborne knew what it meant now, it was a sign of respect from a Watcher, but at the time, he had no clue.
So he stared for a minute, then took a cautious step forward. Then another. The Watcher didn't look up until Tango wrapped his arms around him in a hug, which didn't go very far with how small Tango was at his young age. A few seconds passed before a wing held him in closer, and the Watcher gave him a hug back, both of them sharing the silence of grief together as if they were friends.
It was a blur from there. He heard a woosh and could faintly remember a bright purple light, but that was all he could recollect before he knew what happened next. He woke up in his adoptive dad's house, in the overworld, and had completely forgotten about his mother, the Watcher, or even that he was meant to be the king of the nether.
But it didn't stop there. He was suddenly much older, late teenage years it seemed. He was in his new room, posters for old rock bands all over the orange walls. He was just setting up his TV again, since he and his dad had moved away from his childhood home and to a new town a few weeks ago and he'd been procrastinating on it since. The move unfortunately meant he had to move away from his best and childhood friends Impulse and Zedaph, but they promised to keep in touch by text if nothing else, and they really did.
Just as he was fixing the wires to hook up properly, he heard his phone buzz from his nightstand. He shoved the last few plugs in before half-walking half-running to his phone to pick it up. It was from Impulse, so he accepted the call, thinking nothing much of it. Impulse was just as much of a tech guy as Tango was, so if anything, he could ask for help on his TV.
Instead of a nice hello, the blonde was met with heavy breathing. He thought it was some kind of practical joke at first, so after a few seconds he laughed it off.
"Man, did you walk all the way to your neighbor's house or something?" He joked, prodding at Impulse not being the athletic type. But his smile faded quickly as he heard his friend's shaking voice.
"Zedaph's dead," the brunette spoke quietly, as if he didn't want something around to hear. Tango froze.
"Wh- what?" He said. "Imp, that's not funny."
"I'm not fucking kidding, he's dead!" Impulse repeated. He went on to try and explain, but Tango couldn't understand a word he said, and even if he could, he had a feeling it would've went in one ear and out the other. He only snapped back to reality when he heard an inhumane growl coming from the other side, and Impulse shut up immediately. Even then, Tango could still hear his panicked breathing, rapid and uneven despite his best attempts.
"I-I don't know what to do," Impulse said after a long period of time, though his voice was even more hushed than before, "it's looking for me, it's gonna kill me and- and I- I can't-"
"Imp, Imp slow down, okay?" Tango said, swinging open the door to his room and rushing downstairs. "I'm gonna get the police for you, just- just stay where you are."
Impulse didn't respond, but Tango continued on, making it to the living room where the house phone was. As soon as he tried to pick up the phone, though, the chord between it and the box fell into halves, disconnecting it. He stood there in shock, not a few seconds passing by before he heard a bloodcurdling scream from Impulse's end, and the call was cut short.
"Imp?! Impulse!" Tango cried out for his friend, bringing his phone to his face when he got no response. Suddenly, the screen went dark before changing to a bright purple light, and a blur of eyes and wings surrounded his vision. It felt like it lasted forever yet only a split moment all at once. He held his ears closed when a horrid screeching filled the air, and he promptly collapsed on the floor, dropping unconscious.
Seek for nothing but whatever's known
—
Tango gasped, ripping his hands away from the marble as he shook uncontrollably. Tears welled in his ever darting eyes, and it didn't help when the voice behind him was suddenly unfamiliar.
"What did you see?" Zedaph asked bluntly, as if a part of him didn't want to hear the answer, or he knew what the answer was already but it wasn't the answer he wanted.
The netherborne couldn't speak. His hands begged to grip onto something, anything, but he refused to touch the fountain again. It was almost like he could still feel his tail, wrapping around his leg so tight his foot would fall asleep. Tiny droplets of water fell onto his skin. When did it start raining?
"Y- you- you-" he stammered, unable to form any semblance of a sentence.
"I died, didn't I?" Zed asked. The response hit Tango like a sack of bricks. He did. He did die. How did he know, and how is he here?
Zed sighed. "You know, if it weren't for the nature of mortals like you, we could've been real good friends. Things like you are too curious. You always want to know more than you should. I had a feeling this fountain was going to cause more issues than it already did. Now look at you. One minute a weird yet charming little creature, now the prince of the netherworld with a dead mother and dead friends. All because you don't know how to listen!"
If it wasn't the words, it was the way they were spoken with such an aggressively dark tone that set Tango off. Never in a million years would he expect words like that to come out of his best friend's mouth, much less in such a blatant way. Zedaph was friendly, caring, and opportunistic. Even if he didn't agree with you, he would've followed you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to and be happy to do so.
Finally, Tango turned around to face the blonde goat, and even if he grew weaker as the rain grew heavier, he spoke as clearly as he could.
"Who are you?" He asked.
It laughed.
An axe appeared in its hand after a flash of purple, and while it kept the form of his dead friend, a signature pair of wings on the sides of its head appeared along with the weapon. Its bright green eyes casted a menacing glare, ever complimented by its crazed smile.
"NOT ZEDAPH!"
It darted forward and slammed the axe at Tango, the netherborne just barely able to dodge a hit aimed straight for his chest. It ripped the axe out of the crack it made in the marble without so much as flinching, and as Tango tried to run away, it struck him right against the side of his head with the flat side, not causing a fatal blow, but still hitting far too hard for his own good. It left an alarmingly large gash on his head, the blood washing away with the rain.
He knew the water was bad for him. It rendered him unable to move when he should've still been able to at least roll to one side. The Watcher twirled its axe around in its hands, taking its time to walk over to the injured man.
"This should've been done a long time ago!" It yelled as it kicked Tango to where his back was against the rocky road and put a foot on his chest to keep him down. Tango gave up on trying to keep his eyes open, only hoping his death would be quick and painless, if not for him, then for Jimmy.
But as the Watcher raised its weapon above its head, he didn't feel anything come down on him. In fact, he felt the weight of its foot lift off of him, and he heard a grand splash of water before he let himself succumb to his injury.