50 Years Ago

Alistair waited for his father. And waited. And waited. And waited. They’d gone to the far north, and his father had left while Alistair slept in the cave. The cave was warmer than the frigid Arctic outside, and so Alistair waited for his father to return. 

Finally, as his stomach began to beg, he realized he would have to make his own way back. That this was part of the trial. He would have to do this on his own, but if he did, he could call himself a man from now on. 

But he did not leave. He was frightened, paralyzed more by fear than by the cold. 

And so he waited and waited and waited, until, finally, something happened: a Star descended from the night sky. A crimson sphere emerging from the black veil of winter. It was roughly the size of his head, and it came down before Alistair. He reached out for it, touched it, and the world burned. Through the light and shadows, Alistair saw something: a castle of black iron, beneath the light of a moon cleaved into four corners. Beyond it, into the west, was a land of magic, pure and unbridled, ruled by horrors beyond human comprehension. They wanted to keep all the magic for themselves. Alistair was young, but he knew beyond all else that this was wrong, and that such greed and hubris could not stand, and that someone should set the magic free. The light filled him, and the red Star settled inside his heart and filled him with warmth. He cradled the light inside him, trying to keep it all contained. Finally, he realized he could not. He tapped his hand to his chest, and his red Star emerged and guided him forward into the world. 

He left the cave, following his Destiny. 

The Star led Alistair into the south, towards his home. He made the journey, his stomach growling, the supplies his father had left him with already dwindling. Hunger and fear and confusion saturated his mind, but through sheer force of will he pushed himself forward. 

He used his magic to kill seals and start fires and melt snow. He ate like a starving animal, knowing a feast would await him when he came home. Finally, he could prove his worth. His older brother hadn’t survived the trial, and neither had his oldest sister. Amelia had survived, but only because she had cheated and snuck extra rations onto the trip. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t do that to his parents, couldn’t let them down like that. Couldn’t let the Sovereignty down like that. They deserved a child who was strong. The Albrecht’s were too old and too important a family to not live up to these standards. He had to finish this. Had to get home. 

Forward. Forward. Forward. 

After five days, he came upon the silhouette of a man in the distance. Alistair hadn’t seen another person in almost two weeks. He didn’t realize until he was almost upon him that the man was hunched over, tearing the flesh off another body laid flat on the ground. Alistair didn’t realize until he was upon them that the body on the ground was that of his own father. 

A ghoul, face contorted, fangs bared, eyes screaming crimson, was in the process of devouring Amadeus Albrecht’s corpse. 

A shockwave of vehement fury rocked Alistair. He willed his strength into his hand, and called for the Todeshander. His fist glowed white as he launched it at the ghoul. 

The ghoul cackled, and a pulse of violet light shot out. The white light around Alistair’s fist vanished, and his Star retreated inside his chest. The ghoul’s face warped further, fangs growing larger and sharper.

Alistair gulped, and the ghoul pounced on him, lowered his fangs and claws. He reached for more magic, but the ghoul pulsed with purple light each time and canceled out his spells before he could finish them. And each time, the ghoul grew just a little more monstrous. 

Alistair flailed and swung about and reached until his thumbs met the ghoul’s eyes. He pushed them in and gouged them out, the ghoul screaming as the soft matter burst and blood froze on his face. 

Alistair did not stop. He toppled the ghoul, buried fist into face until the skull had cracked open and he could crush the rotting mind of the beast with his bare hands. 

He stood over his kill and screamed. 

He went over to his father, already dead. Alistair summoned his Star, and let it lead them forward as he dragged his father’s corpse back home for burial. The ghoul had intercepted his father on the way back, which meant there were more. Alistair would have to be careful. And courageous. There was no time for cowardice now.

He wept for his father as he marched forward, forward, forward, knowing he could never share his accomplishments with the man he’d wanted to look upon them. 

Forward.

When Alistair’s Star led him home, the castle was already in ruins. Castle Albrecht was a tall, proud building in the far northern reaches of Alaska, a central fortress surrounded by four spires. Alistair came upon it to find three of the spires reduced to ash, and a gaping wound carved into the main fortress. Black ash and crimson blood decorated the white snow and gray stone. A single ghoul’s corpse was left behind, mangled and inhuman, a desperate, hungry creature not strong enough to survive his pack’s hunting trip. Bones stripped clean of meat were strewn across the land. Alistair saw a skeleton with his mothers’ fine clothes in rags all around it. 

They’d gotten everyone: his mother and his maternal uncles and cousins who lived with them, the help, their students come up from the main school to study with them personally. All dead. All eaten. 

Alistair fell to his knees and wept, his Star hanging overhead and casting a harsh, unwelcome light over the carnage. It was hours before he moved again, before he began to follow his Star south. 

He needed to keep moving. 

They would pay for this. He would have his revenge. His Star would lead him to it. And he was strong enough to take it. 

He was strong. He knew it to be true. 

***

Present Day

Isabella woke up in the darkness, everything screaming with silence. She flailed about, looking for something, anything, to hold on to amidst the pure black. The only thing she could feel were the tears streaming out her eyes, the only thing she could see the memories of waking up alone in her house as a child, of waking up alone in the Pale as a teenager, of waking up alone-

Where was Lacy? Hadn’t they been together? What had happened?

She remembered taking Lacy into town, getting dinner and then dessert. She remembered them going back to their room together, and… 

Had they… 

Maybe they had. 

That feels like an ethical violation, Isabella thought, still trying to swim through the Liminal Void, ignoring the bizarre tingle the lack of noise sent through her ears and down her spine. She swam and swam and swam through the empty black abyss, and finally, a light reached her. In the distance, a swirl of sapphire blue and crimson red lights danced about. The lights were sculpted into the form of a dozen foxes and ravens, a neon dual-colored zoetrope of scavengers.  

Inside it was Lacy. 

Isabella called out to her, but the other girl did not react. She simply sat there in her neon cage, with all the motivation of someone recently hit by a truck. Finally, Isabella kicked and clawed enough to make it over to Lacy and stood in front of the zoetrope. 

“Lacy,” Isabella said. “Are you okay? What’s-”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Lacy said, eyes wide and knuckles blanched. 

“W… What?”

“Did I stutter?”

Isabella tried to make herself stand up straight, face Lacy eye to eye, but it was difficult to designate a single direction as ‘up.’ She concentrated and used Lacy as a frame of reference, and managed to steady herself. “Lacy, what are you talking about? How did you even get here?”

“Sovereignty captured me.”

“How?”

“They attacked Peoria,” Lacy said. “Alistair came personally. Now they’ve got me locked up… Somewhere. I keep coming here when I fall asleep.”

“How did they know where we-”

“Danny,” Lacy said. “He’s been Gwen’s long lost brother this whole time. Who woulda thunk it? A traitor in our midst.” 

“That little maggot! I can’t believe-”

“Reminds me of someone else I know.”

Isabella blinked, gulped. “I- we were- we were on a date. We were having a nice time.”

“Were we now?” Lacy said in monotone. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Isabella blushed. “I remember… I…”

“Think real hard now. You definitely didn’t earlier.” 

“I… We went back to our room. And I asked if… If you wanted to get in the shower with me.”

“No. We never made it that far. After we ate, we went by the fountains. Remember? You pulled a weapon on me,” Lacy hissed. “You let me walk a few feet ahead and when I turned around you had that fucking World-Carver of yours out and ready and held it above your head like you were gonna bring it down into my skull. You, like everyone else, however, forgot I have super-hearing.”

No, no it couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t- she hadn’t… 

But then the memory came flooding back, of retrieving World-Carver, of holding it in her trembling hands and trying to will herself to paint the sidewalk red and be done with it already, to walk away from it all. And Lacy turned around, the look of betrayal in her eyes, sorrow and shock quickly mutating to the pure, unprocessed rage of someone whose trust had been broken. And they stood there, and Isabella shook and hyperventilated until finally she… 

She vanished. 

Pulled back into the Liminal Void. Just like the Elf-King said she would be if she didn’t go through with it when the time came. Sucked back into the darkness where she belonged. 

Isabella stammered, “I- I-”

“Betrayed me,” Lacy said. “Manipulated me. Tried to kill me.”

“I didn’t-”

“No, you didn’t even have the stomach to go through with the attempt, did you? Fuck’s sake, even Danny managed that part.”

“Lacy, please, I had no choice.”

“Yeah, I expected to hear that. Nobody ever has a choice, apparently. Because that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Lacy said, falling onto her knees, her arms limp at her sides.

“Just let me explain- I didn’t go through with it so I got sucked back here. The reason I… Was trying to do what I did-”

“Already put those pieces together on my own, thanks,” Lacy said. “Contrary to what’s apparently very popular belief, I’m not completely fucking stupid! But I guess I’m at least a little stupid, given that I chose to ignore that sword of yours and what it logically meant. Is it your Destiny? Are you the Chosen One? Are you hiding a blue Star?”

“No, I swear. I don’t have a Star- I’m not the… The… ” Oh, wait, that-

“Oh, did you just realize that actually makes it worse? Because you did have a choice, and don’t even have the Destiny excuse that Danny and Gwen both have to fall back on?” Lacy said mockingly. “Good. Job. Waitta catch up, jackass.”

The words pricked her like a thornbush, but not nearly as much as her own guilt and shame and terror over being back here for good. “I’m sorry.”

“Congrats.”

“Lacy-”

“I don’t care,” Lacy said. “I don’t need your fucking apology. You tried to kill me. You betrayed me, and you hurt me, JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE I HAVE EVER MADE THE MISTAKE OF TRUSTING! You can rot in hell for all I care.”

“... You don’t mean that.”

“Actually, I do,” Lacy said. “It’s where we’re both going, after all. Save me a seat.”

“LACY-”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Lacy screamed. “GET AWAY! LEAVE!”

Despite the lack of solid ground, Isabella took a step back. Then another, then another, then another. Hands of sorrow gripping her heart, she slunk away into the darkness, reacquainting herself with oblivion.