Aetheral Space-Chapter 544 - 17.16: The Sight of Stars

Haisley sulked.

Sitting there in the kitchen of her home, she sulked, sitting on a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. She hugged those knees with everything she had. She could trust her knees not to leave, at least. Knees would always stay by your side, unless you stepped on a landmine. Even then, you could carry them around in a backpack.

Nigen's words ran through her head again, pulling her out of her dark mood just a little.

I will return. With others.

She shouldn't get mad at him. She really shouldn't. She knew him well enough that she knew he wouldn't just leave unless he really needed to. From what he'd told her, he was part of a whole team of sword-wielding heroes. Probably Director Pandershi was more dangerous than he'd expected, so he'd gone to get reinforcements. That made sense.

He could have taken her, though…

The sulk returned, and Haisley hugged her loyal knees tighter. At the counter, her mother sighed as she prepared dinner. It would be a stretch to say she was cooking -- something like that was far too dangerous for Director Pandershi to allow for his citizens -- but she was warming up a prepackaged meal the courier-chute had delivered. As the machine began its work, she looked over her shoulder at her daughter.

"Come on now," she said. "You're really this upset, just because that stranger left? It's for the best. You know how it is outside. People from those sorts of places are nothing but trouble."

You know how it is outside.

No. She knew how Pandershi told her how it was outside. She knew how Puck taught her how it was outside. Just a few short conversations with Nigen Rush had been enough to dash her confidence in those lessons to pieces.

"Haisley?" said her mother, unimpressed by her sullen silence. "Oh, come on."

Haisley offered only a grunt. How could everyone just accept this so easily? They'd all met Nigen Rush too. Were they all just too stupid to understand?

"Fine, be like that," her mother shook her head, turning back to the counter as it dinged. "Mark my words, young lady. You'll forget about all this hassle by the end of the week -- and I'll be accepting your apology when you…"

Her words trailed off, and Haisley didn't care to hear the end of them. She just hugged her legs tighter, and buried her face into her knees. She hated this place. This kitchen, this house, this Ward.

I want to see the sky.

The words came into her mind perfectly formed. No, maybe that wasn't right. It was like they'd always been there, but she'd never noticed them. It was only after meeting Nigen that she understood -- what she'd always wanted, but never known how to express.

She had to be patient. That was all. Her fingers dug into her legs. If she waited as Nigen had said, he would return and cut this world-sized cage right open.

He had to.

He had --

"...aA…"

Haisley could smell smoke.

She looked up.

Her mother was standing in the middle of the kitchen. Smoke was coming from her. Her face was tilted up towards the ceiling, so far back her neck was nearly breaking. Her limbs were fixed in place, spread at horrible angles like a human tree. Her eyes and mouth open, stretching grotesquely wide, in an expression of utter torment.

Haisley blinked. "...Mom…?"

"...aA…aaaA…"

The alien sounds trickled from her mother's throat, expressing a pain so complete it smothered even screams. Her mother's eyeballs shuddered in their sockets. Her limbs spread out wider, and Haisley heard the crack of bone as they went further than they should.

And the smoke. The smoke the smoke the smoke the smoke. The smoke was rising from the back of her mother's neck, black and red all mixed together, vaporised blood, something was burning, something was burning inside of her, what was Haisley doing, why was she just sitting there, she had to do something, she had to get up and --

Her mother's head fell off.

Whatever was burning inside her burnt through so much of her neck that it could no longer support its passenger. With a wet thud, the severed head dropped to the kitchen floor. Smoke continued to rise from the stump, even as the body too collapsed in a pile. The last sound Haisley's mother made was the inhuman squeak of a worn-through throat.

Slowly, Haisley got up. Slowly, Haisley looked down.

She could hear her own heartbeat. It was slow. Too slow. She should be panicking right now. She was sure of that. Something was wrong. What had just happened? That wasn't right. Something was. Something was. Something was. She felt like someone had poured cold water over her brain. She was drowning. She could smell smoke.

What did she do? Did she call someone? Who? Could they put it back on? Was there a mop? Did she clean the floor? No. Too slippery, too slippery. She took a step. She slipped. It touched her face. Red. Oh. Oh god.

Outside. She needed to find someone. Outside. This was bad. Something was wrong. She was going to be sick. Had she been sick already? She couldn't tell. Her hands were shaking, but it wasn't cold. She hugged her arms tight. The door was in front of her. Had she walked? She'd walked. Had she walked?

The doorway passed through her. She needed to call someone. Outside. She went outside. Outside, outside. She needed to find someone. Quick. Oh god. She… she… she…

She could smell smoke.

Haisley walked through Ward 8. Haisley looked, and Haisley listened. Haisley saw, and Haisley heard.

Nobody was screaming. That wasn't allowed. Whatever was happening to everyone was too painful to scream. You weren't allowed to divert any attention at all from that agony at the back of your neck. As Haisley staggered through the streets, all she could hear was a chorus of thousands of choking gasps. And then…

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

…heads hitting the floor, like someone was playing the drums. No, someone was dropping tomatoes. A queasy, hysterical laugh trickled from Haisley's throat at that thought -- and a second later, she hunched over into the gutter and vomited.

She had lived her entire life in Ward 8. Every severed head looked at her with familiar eyes. Every pile of limbs was someone she had known. She saw that Gram Plink's corpse had set alight in the middle of the town square. It wasn't the only one. The windmill was on fire, too. Haisley looked up at it, uncomprehending.

Everyone had been killed. Everyone. Nobody had been spared. She saw smoke rising from a crib. Her vision wavered in and out of clarity, as did her consciousness. Was this what drowning felt like? Why was she drowning, and not burning like everybody else?

Help. Someone help. Nigen.

She didn't know if she thought it or said it -- but her prayer went unanswered all the same. Nobody was here. Nobody was listening. Nobody above or below.

Haisley looked. Surely she couldn't be the only one left. She opened doors, one after the other, looking into houses. Each one was filled with death. She opened doors. All that was behind them was smoke. Smoke, smoke, smoke. She was choking. She told a door she loved it, and it opened for her, and once she saw what was behind it she realized it must have hated her.

And Haisley walked.

And Haisley walked.

And Haisley walked.

How long did Haisley walk for? Even she couldn't say. Her mind was hanging onto her body by a long thin string -- like a balloon -- and she could barely see what was going on with it all the way down there.

Was she hungry? Was she thirsty? Probably. That was good, though.

Everyone in Ward 8 had died. She'd confirmed that with her own eyes. It wouldn't be right for her to keep living without a care. If she was hungry and thirsty, that meant she would die soon too. Her walking had become staggering. That meant she was tired, too. Great. Soon she'd drop and not have to be here anymore.

Right? That was what she wanted, right?

She was stuffing her face with something. Snacks from a vending machine. All the machines had turned off a little while after everyone had died, so she'd had to smash into the machine with a farball bat. Why had she done that, though? Didn't she want to die? She shouldn't be eating if she wanted to starve.

I will return. With others.

Nigen had said that, hadn't he? Yes, she had to stick around so she could explain what had happened. What had happened? She didn't even know. What help could she be? Better to roll over and die. Did she think she was so important that she should be allowed to be the lone survivor? How disgusting. Die, die. Drop dead, you piece of trash.

She was drinking something, a bottle of warm water she'd pulled from a deactivated fridge. The stench in the house was awful, but she guzzled the water all the same. How come? Didn't she want to die of thirst? Why was she drinking? Tears stung at her eyes… but if she was so sad, why didn't she just die?

I will return. With others.

He had promised. He had promised he would come back, and with her silence she had promised to wait for him. Yes, yes. That was how it worked. So she couldn't die. She couldn't die yet.

She couldn't die until she met Nigen Rush again.

Eventually, they came. The Seelie Rangers and other workers, collecting and extracting the corpses one by one from where they lay. Some they took out of Ward 8, but most they just buried in mass graves out in the woods. Haisley watched from atop the hill, peering out from the corner of a building.

Should she go and speak to them, this army of cleaners? No. Something in her gut told her that would be her last bad idea.

She'd been sneaking around, she'd heard them talking. They kept saying the name of the person who did this. They kept talking among themselves, cursing that name again and again and again. Cursing the name of Nigen Rush.

Liars.

These weren't the sorts of people she could reveal herself to. Liars like this would have nothing good to offer. If they found her, she knew in her bones, nobody else would ever find her again. So she watched from a distance, hiding herself deep in the corpse of Ward 8.

She even thought she could just keep doing that, until these people finished doing what they needed to and left the Ward entirely. That was far too naive. Whatever had happened, it had turned Ward 8 into hell. Hell didn't release you from suffering that easily.

Haisley looked down the hill… and someone else looked up.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She'd seen this person before, not long ago, in the forest where Nigen Rush had fought Lusifer Westmore -- but she'd known him before that. Every child in Zepan knew him. He was like Puck, a fixture of the culture, the hero who would shield the city from any threat, the knight whose blade would cut down any evil. The leader of the Unseelie, Zephyr Pandershi's most trusted lieutenant. It was no surprise he was here to oversee the cleanup.

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Haisley looked down the hill… and the man called One Star looked up at her.

He can see me, she knew, a shudder crawling down her spine. He can see me with his eyes closed.

One Star smiled.

Run!

She was already sprinting away before the thought finished running through her head. It was automatic, reflexive, the instinct of prey when presented with a predator. She ran with everything she had, fleeing into the abandoned part of Ward 8 -- the part of the Ward they'd already finished cleaning up. Her breath burnt in her lungs. Her eyes were wet with terror. Her legs flared with pain as they were pushed past their limits.

She ran full-pelt for one minute, two minutes, three, before finally daring to look over her shoulder.

"Hello," said One Star.

He was right behind her, in the mouth of the alley she was running through. His eyes were still closed. His lips were still spread into a soft smile.

And, ever so slowly, he was walking towards her.

"Are you alright?" he asked kindly. "I'm sorry, but something terrible has happened. This is no place for a child. Won't you come with me?"

His voice was gentle, but his sword was drawn.

Haisley kept running, even when her legs started to fail her, even when she was flailing and nearly falling over with every step -- but every time she looked over her shoulder, One Star was there, still walking slowly towards her, still getting closer. She didn't have the breath to scream, so the noise she let out was much like the dying gasps of the other Ward 8 residents. It was like a nightmare -- no, maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe she would soon wake up, and realize that everything that had happened was just a terrible dream.

"You need to calm down, little one," One Star said. "Come here. Let me help you."

No.

Even if this was a nightmare, she didn't want to go anywhere near this man. She'd heard stories of his virtue and heroism -- every child of Zepan had -- but now that she was hearing his voice in person, there was something atrocious about it. This was not a thing that helped people.

So she ran.

So she ran.

So she… stopped.

She didn't stop by her own will, there in the middle of the empty street. It was sudden, painful, her body freezing mid-step as if she'd been pinned to the air itself by an invisible nail. Her body wouldn't do what she told it to. She was a statue. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even blink.

Orange Aether crackled around her body -- and Haisley heard One Star speak as he slowly, slowly, approached.

"My apologies for restraining you," One Star said sadly. "You were just so hysterical I couldn't see any other recourse."

His shadow stretched over her from behind, tall and long. He kept walking.

"Did you know my ability is to stick things together?" he continued. "I just went ahead and stuck every part of your body to every other part, so that's why you can't move. It's actually very easy to do something like that to someone without Aether."

She heard his sword scrape against the ground. He kept walking.

"Are you concerned about my weapon?" One Star asked. "Oh, you needn't be. I only have this in case somebody dangerous appears -- as an innocent girl, I must protect you, after all, mustn't I? You're safe with me, please don't worry. I don't mean to brag, but I've never once been cut by an enemy's blade."

The shadow stopped, drowning the light entirely, and One Star's voice came from closer than ever.

"Here," he breathed. "Let me help you."

His hand moved… but when his sword struck, it hit only empty space. His gentle smile faded into a slight frown. His sword moved down, tapping the ground where Haisley had just been standing, but there really was no sign of her. In just an instant, she had vanished.

Olo Aether giggled.

One Star clicked his tongue.

"Hahaha," Haisley's rescuer chuckled. "Aren't you lucky I'm such a nice guy? That was almost the end for you… or the beginning of the end, I guess, knowing ol' One Star-man. I'll accept your gratitude whenever you're ready, okay?"

Haisley stared up, dumbfounded.

"Hm?" the man cocked his head. "What, did seeing everyone die make you go crazy or something? Hm, I get that. Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I kinda need you present right now, though, so would you mind locking in?"

Haisley's silence wasn't because she'd 'gone crazy', no matter what this man said. It had two sources. The world she'd suddenly found herself in, and the one who had brought her there.

There was a sky above her. A real sky. A black sky.

She wasn't standing in Ward 8 anymore. She wasn't even standing in Zepan. She was in the old ruins outside the city, in a courtyard between withered skyscrapers and crumbling streets, staring up at the sky. How had she even gotten here? There was a blank slate in her mind, like someone had taken a rag to the memory and just scrubbed it clean.

That wasn't her biggest concern, though. At that moment, Haisley was far more focused on what she could see above her.

There were stars.

Tiny twinkling points of light, spread all across the blackness. So far away, their light stretching across unfathomable distances to reach this place. There really was a world outside of Zepan. She could see it painted all above her. Despite everything, she felt a vacant smile start to come to her lips.

That smile didn't last long. As soon as she took a look at her rescuer, it became a scowl. The man just grinned wider at that. He seemed the type to derive pleasure from the hatred of others.

Lusifer Westmore sat on a nearby rotted bench, legs crossed, as casual as could be. His eyes were narrowed, pitch-black pupils staring, his smile infuriating. She didn't fully understand why, but just looking at this guy seemed to piss her off right now. It hadn't felt like that the first time she'd seen him, though.

"You… saved me?" she whispered.

"There we go!" he waved a hand. "Yes, yes, little girl, I am your saviour."

She hugged her arms tight around herself, taking a cautious step back. "...why?"

"Well, I'm just such a nice guy," he smiled. "Believe you me, rescuing someone from One Star-man is enough to get me into heaven a hundred times. I'm basically set for afterlife now."

She narrowed her eyes. "...what?"

The smile faded from Lusifer's face just a tad. "Ah… guess you're not in the mood, huh? That makes sense. You did just see everyone you know get their heads burnt off, after all."

His careless words cracked the wall inside her mind -- and through that crack the images came, suddenly clear and mercilessly pristine. Her mother's head, lying on the floor. The streets running red with blood. Smoke rising from a crib. The dead, the dead, the dead, the dead.

Haisley hunched over and was sick.

Lusifer wrinkled his nose in distaste at the sight. "Gross." As she continued to wretch, he inspected his nails with mild disinterest.

"...what…" she gasped.

"You said that already."

"...what happened…?" she squeaked, finishing her sentence.

The smile disappeared fully from Lusifer Westmore's lips as he jabbed a thumb at the back of his neck. "All you nice livestock folk have tracking chips in the back of your neck. They put 'em in when you're born, or at a wellness check for the older folks."

Haisley's hand drifted to the back of her own neck, groping at it. She couldn't feel a thing. No scar, nothing. Was he telling the truth?

"I say it's a tracking chip," Lusifer said seriously. "But a smartypants like Pandershi-man can do a bunch of nasty stuff with it, I'm sure. Wouldn't have been that difficult to have them all overheat and put a merry end to old Ward 8."

His voice was cold and matter-of-fact, even as Haisley looked at him in horror. If she understood what he was talking about, then the one who'd done this was…

"The Director killed us… killed them?" she whispered, stumbling over her words. "Why?!"

Lusifer shrugged lightly. "I can see him doing it. I'm not usually one for judging others on a moral level, but I'll happily say that Zephyr Pandershi is a worthless piece of shit. He's all messed up in the head, too, so who knows how he convinced himself, heheh."

Haisley clenched her fists as she picked herself up off the ground, nails digging painfully into her palms. "You work for him," she spat.

Another shrug. "Eh, I never said I was any better… and besides, kid, it's worked. Today's my resignation day. Which is why I'm gonna help you out!"

He laughed cheerfully, his clear jubilee such a contrast to the grim world around him that Haisley couldn't help but take a step back. She'd felt a primal danger from the approach of One Star… but right now, she couldn't say she felt much safer around Lusifer Westmore, either. He was another freak.

"What do you mean?" she asked, voice trembling. "You're gonna… help me?"

Lusifer lifted a hand, pointing his palm towards her. "You're mad, right? Yeah, I bet you're mad. I would be. Pandershi-man basically killed everyone you know and love on a whim."

"That's what you say," she mumbled. "You could be lying."

"Sure enough," Lusifer chuckled. "Do you think I am?"

She looked up, staring into his dark eyes. It was strange. Despite how much she disliked him, despite how much his very presence repulsed her… she couldn't actually imagine this man lying to her. Deception that simple seemed like something he wouldn't bother with.

"Right?" he smirked. "You wanna kill him, don't you? Yes or no?"

Haisley looked down at the ground. The head on the floor. The blood in the streets. The smoking crib. The corpses, all the corpses. She could still see them. She would probably see them forever now.

"Yes," she hissed.

"Great!" Lusifer said. "That actually lines up really nicely with what I've got going on. You see, I have a personal policy to fuck over my boss on the way out. It's just another one of those great principles I've got. You're a great opportunity to ruin Pandershi-man's day a couple of years down the line, yup."

She looked back up at him, taking a step closer. "How?" she asked, mouth dry.

"Lycidas," he replied simply.

She blinked. "What?"

"It's one of my abilities," he snapped his fingers. "Lets me beam my memories into receptacles -- even people, heehee. Against someone with Aether defenses, the best I can do is a little flash of memory, but with a normie like you? I bet I can give you a nice little package of experience and skill. Enough to give you a fighting chance against Pandershi-man, yeah?"

Her eyes flicked down to the batons at his hips. "You'd make it so I can fight…? Like you?"

"Not exactly like me," Lusifer shrugged. "After all, you ain't got the secret sauce. I'm talking about Aether. But you'd be able to swing a sword around pretty good. That's what Rush-man was teaching you, right? Think of it as a shortcut." He raised a hand. "How about it, kiddo?"

Haisley gulped, looking at Lusifer's extended palm. Nigen wasn't here. Wherever Nigen was, it was very far away, but she felt like she knew what he would say. This wasn't right. A shortcut like this wouldn't lead anywhere good.

But… then again… he wasn't the one standing in the middle of a nightmare. Maybe, in a situation like this, the only ones in hell you could trust were the devils.

"Do it," she said, mouth dry.

Olo Aether tittered around Lusifer's fingers. "You sure?"

She thought about it for another long moment. "Yeah. Go ahead and --"

"I'm just fucking with you," Lusifer interrupted. "I already did it. Rejoice, girl. You're the second one today to receive such a prestigious gift from yours truly."

He rose from the bench, still as casual as could be, and brushed the dust from his pants. Haisley, for her part, just looked down at her hands.

"I don't… feel any different," she mumbled.

"You'll feel it the next time you pick up a sword," Lusifer turned away, already sauntering down the street. "I gave you what I know about Zepan's layout and structure, too, so you're welcome. You shouldn't have much trouble being a little rat in the walls. Have fun!"

He was right. She could feel it now, foreign memories unfurling and making themselves known. There were traces of something personal -- growing up in alleys, fleeing from soldiers, parental flesh between her teeth, doing whatever it took to survive, -- but mostly just information. Experience she'd never had, slowly meshing with her own. Knowledge she'd never acquired, slowly slotting into place.

She looked up.

"Why'd you do this for me?" she asked again. "Really?"

Lusifer stopped walking. When he turned to look at her again, that same smug smile was still on his lips… but there was a trace of something else in his dark eyes.

"When the world decides people like us to die, and we decide to live anyway, we become the world's problem to deal with," he said quietly. "Basically, I'm projecting on you hard, kid. My old man's old man was the bastard of a supreme -- makes someone like me inconvenient, you know? I've had people needing to kill me ever since I was a kid. You'll probably be dead soon, anyway, but cause Pandershi-man some trouble before you go, 'kay? 'Kay."

His walk resumed -- but Haisley still wasn't done.

"Where are you even going?" she called out, her voice echoing through the ruined city-ring.

With a sigh, he turned to look at her again. A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he raised his hand once again, holding his index finger and thumb just a few inches away from each other. A giggling strand of olo Aether traversed the gap between digits.

"Tell me," he said. "What's this?'

She frowned. "That's Aether, right?"

"Nah," he grinned slyly. "This is the root of all evil -- and I'm looking for the thing that gave it to us. See you around, kid."

This time, his exit had no interruptions. Whistling softly to himself, Lusifer Westmore faded into the fog and out of Haisley's life. Just like Nigen Rush… she never saw him again.

After a minute, her mind still wrestling with the new information given to it, Haisley looked over at the bench where Lusifer had been sitting. He'd left something there for her. Had she just not noticed until now, or had he messed with her memory one last time?

She approached.

Resting there, gleaming in the dim light, were a pair of sharp swords. She reached down and took them in her hands. Despite everything, a soft smile of genuine awe came to her face. It was just like he'd said. It was as if she'd held these weapons thousands of times before.

Resolving herself, she turned her head to look at the mountain called Zepan. Somewhere deep in that structure was the fortress Auberon. Somewhere deep in that structure was the one she now hated more than anyone else in the world.

Lusifer Westmore had said the root of all evil was Aether -- but as far as Haisley was concerned, it was the man who had slaughtered the people of Ward 8.

She promised herself. She promised the world.

It won't happen today. It won't happen tomorrow. But someday… someday, Zephyr Pandershi… I swear that I'll kill you.

Swords in hand, she walked back towards Zepan.