A Gamer's Guide 476 (Patreon)

I grab the handle of the door and throw it open, springing away from him, from where he lies, away away away, as far away as I can get, running barefoot through the halls of the empty, dark castle, only realizing where I’m heading once I’ve already thrown open the doors to the garden and rushed out into the cold night air. 

Gasping breaths I don’t need, my chest thumping desperately, I stagger through the garden, its winding paths and well-shorn hedges suddenly foreign to me, as alien as this whole world truly is. The shapes among the trees are ghasts and the little perennials poking up are ghouls, and I pass among them blearily, mindlessly, all the way to the edge of the garden, where it opens into a ledge, allowing you to see the whole of the city and all of the stars. 

The winds catch my hair. It’s a warm wind. After all, it’s summer now. I’ve forgotten what date it is. Has my birthday been already? How old will I be? I can’t remember. I can’t remember anything. I just…

Hands on the wall, I look down at the city. Houses and houses of people. All worshipping me. Me. 

They couldn’t have picked a worse god!

Oh, God. Oh, God. How fucking stupid am I? I just… 

I sink down to my knees. Shit. Shit. Shit. Three years. It’s been three years. I’m supposed to have gotten better. Haven’t I? Vann said so. He said he didn’t think I was a monster. The emperor is fine with me too. Gecko thinks I’m alright. I have so many friends now. Garath likes me. Buccina really likes me. So many people who trust me. Myrt too. But I just… 

How blind can I be? I say I won’t hurt him and then I do this. Like a damn—no, no, not like an idiot. That absolves me. Idiots can’t get smarter. Though, of course, if I haven’t figured out the simple, simple fact that Simel doesn’t like being kept in captivity and pushed down and tortured in the span of three years, I’d say that makes me a bit of an idiot! Maybe even a lot of an idiot!

Shit. Shit. Shit. I always do this. Oh, no, can’t let Simel make his own damn choices. Obviously, as his friend, it’s my duty to know what’s best for him, even if it means ignoring exactly everything he’s telling me! Because, clearly, Simel surviving is more important than anything and everything else.

All because of my ego. I love him, it says. Let’s keep him close. 

Like a damn idiot. Like a…

A drake lands above me, on the top of the ledge, folding its big red wings across its back and turning its blue eyes on me. 

Huh. I don’t think I’ve seen this kind before. It’s unusually large, almost like a parrot, but…

“Have you had your fun yet, Angel?”

I whirl to face wherever the voice came from, only to find a little girl, sitting over on top of the ledge, dangling her legs. I can’t see her face. It’s shaded from the moonlight, so I can’t tell whether she’s smiling or not. However, even through the darkness, I know exactly who she is. Only one person would call me that. “Mitt.”

She turns her head a little, allowing the pale moonlight to touch her face. “In the flesh.” She holds out her arm, and with the rustle of feathers and a low chitter, the drake at my side lifts into the air, flies the distance between us, and perches itself on her arm. She smiles at it. “Must be nice playing city with toys you can put together again. If the rats carry any plague, you can just wave them away. A little paradise in Purgatory. How sweet.”

I don’t like this. Why is she here? I know she held up her side of the bargain, but I still can’t trust her. Not considering who her patron is. 

She frowns at me. “My, aren’t we quiet today? How uncharacteristic. I believe there’s a suitable human expression for this… Ah, yes.” She grins. “Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” I say. “I’m just a little tense. I didn’t know you’d come to visit.”

“You didn’t? What a shame. I thought that darling pet of yours would have told you. But I guess apostles can be tricky in that way. Not like heralds. Heralds are much easier. Whatever you want a herald to be, you can make it so. Wouldn’t that be nice? Much simpler than tearing out his memories. Of course, it wouldn’t really be him anymore, now would it? Nothing but a funhouse mirror of what you hope for him to be. But, I suppose, that isn’t much different from what he is now.”

I grit my teeth. “No, it isn’t.”

Her eyes gleam in the moonlight, watching me silently. In a single move, she hops down from the ledge, and crosses the distance between us, stopping just above me. She looks down at me where I sit, back against the ledge, her face bathed in inky shadow. “You always did have trouble letting go, Angel.”

“I’ve been starved all my life,” I say. “Of course I wouldn’t want to let go.”

“So, instead, you dig in your fangs, and make leaving impossible. What a delightful trait to see in a god. Perhaps he is right—you may yet burn the world.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear anything like that anymore.”

“Of course. After what you’ve done, I’m certain you’re too busy pitying yourself to think about the things he said, the things he did. What he was. After all, that wasn’t what you liked about him. That wasn’t why you would have burnt the world for him. No, nothing like that. All you liked was the proof that someone was capable of loving you even at your worst. Well, Angel. Here you are. Does he still love you?”

“No.”

“Really? Why not? Could it have been the captivity? The isolation? The torture? Oh, but he should have been grateful for all you did! After all, you did it for him! Not for you. Never for you. You would never do something as horrible as this to someone, all for your own sake. You’re better than that, aren’t you? You’ve improved, haven’t you? It’s been a year since you cleansed Oran. Are you sure you wouldn’t do it again?”

“Why are you saying these things? Why did you come here? I don’t… I don’t want to think about anything anymore.”

Her eyes move slowly from me, to the city, and then back to me. I can’t read her face. Whatever emotion she’s expressing, it’s beyond my comprehension. “The God of Cruelty sent me,” she says, her voice melding with the wind, equally as transient and fleeting. “He wanted me to give you the quest of Pride. In return, He would teach you how to heal the flesh of mortals. And their minds.”

I blink up at her. “Really?” I scramble to sit upright. “Wh—what should I do? What’s the ledge? Whatever it is, I’ll—”

“Do the right thing.” Her eyes gleam like the moons in the sky, distant, bright, yet lonesome, all at once. There isn’t a hint of amusement on her face. The wind passes by us, raking through the crowns of the trees, passing through the grass. “That’s all.”

“Oh,” I mutter. Such a small little noise. “Oh. That’s it, isn’t it?”

She shrugs. “That’s it.”

“Okay,” I say, pulling myself to my feet. 

I have time to stagger a few steps away from her, not too far, before she calls out. “If you want, I’ve been given permission to use the euthenasia miracle.”

“Don’t be kind,” I say, moving robotically towards the castle. “I know I have to do this myself.”

She watches me go. I can’t muster the strength to thank her. It feels like a weight has lifted from my chest, drifting off with the night wind. It’s such a strange feeling, to know exactly what I have to do. It’s been months since I last felt this certain. 

It feels so nice that I barely even dread what’s to come.