Chapter 50 - Pilot Light

Group Therapy in the Hellforge

The, uh… most likely real Nyx?

Wow, do you have this sudden, intense craving for tempura and a bath?

Also, I could have sworn we were just outside Apati, right? Watching my ingenious solution to help advertise Apati’s new product line? It was just a proto-type, of course. There were still a few, err… minor kinks to iron out. Mostly the explosions and the fire.

But now it seemed like we were back in the forge?

I blinked. Blinked again. Also, a couple more times for good measure.

Yep, still the same charming, steampunk-themed bro-newal decorations. Cole standing there by the anvil-altar shaking and sweating. The audience sitting in their pews muttering and murmuring and judging. Our overweight therapist watching me intently and taking copious notes in Fang’s journal. And Fang by my side… glaring.

It was like we never left. Which was just perfect.

“Finally,” Fang hissed as he saw me blinking owlishly at him.

“Finally, what? What’s going on?” I asked. “I miss anything interesting?”

That question was met with a long, uncomfortable silence.

“You drifted again. You do this… just leave, but in your mind. Mumble and rant about crazy things. Mechanical creatures and singing,” Fang explained in exasperation. “You talk about your food. Burgers and tempura and death. It makes no sense!”

“I, uh, I did?” I asked. Fang just turned to our therapist, pointing at the notebook in his hands – Fang’s notebook. He’d been taking notes, apparently.

Indeed, there was a lengthy description of my new gate design…

“Yes. When you are stressed. Confused. When faced with the truth.”

He hesitated, watching me. “Do you remember what we were talking about?”

I tried, I really did. But it was hard with my head aching like this. Somehow it hurt even worse than before. Probably sinus congestion from all the dust down here.

But maybe Lili could remember what we were talking about.

Actually, she was being super quiet for some reason—

My body suddenly stiffened, the memory returning with a vengeance.

“No. I wrote the letters.”

I swallowed hard, that knot in my stomach clenching tight again.

Ahh, right. I remembered now. We’d been having a super fun group therapy session where I was planning to force Lili and Fang to reveal their juicy secrets. Except it had backfired on me when our overweight therapist tried to gaslight me into thinking it was my problem – that I was the one lying here. And then Lili had revealed that she’d been… well, actually that wasn’t clear. Writing letters or something?

You know what? Why was I even upset about that?

That seemed pretty innocuous, didn’t it?

“How she takes control of your vessel? How you have been drifting – losing hours and even days?” Fang demanded, glaring at me. “How she has been lying to you this whole time? You call this innocuousss?” He lisped. It happened sometimes when he was upset. Also, I guess I must have been talking out loud again…

And, okay. Sure. Fine. Those were fair-ish questions. But I’m sure Lili had a perfectly reasonable answer. She always had my back. Err… right? Lili?

A long, pregnant, tense, and somewhat troubling pause followed, our audience all leaning forward and staring at my arm. Even our therapist and Fang were standing really close. And then, several painful seconds later…

“Ever since we left the gate, you have been drifting more and more – getting lost in your stories,” Lili began slowly. “Fang is right. I didn’t tell you what was happening. I tried, but you weren’t ready to listen – to hear it. You would deflect with jokes or stories or your “family vacation.” You do this with painful or sensitive subjects.”

“So, I did the only thing I could. I protected our vessel when you drifted off. And I wrote those letters to Horus. To stall. To buy us time while you were… distracted.”

Hmm. Okay. Well, that didn’t sound so bad.

The other members of the audience seemed to agree. Even our therapist’s chins were nodding along as he read Lili’s response.

“I mean, she has a point. We heard the contents of those letters.”

“They did buy lots of time.”

“Right? She knocked out their whole group out for days at the first camp.

“And how much time did they lose at the gas station and the PB&B? Weeks?”

“Besides, I don’t see how that harmed Nyx. And did she even really lie? She kept a secret, sure, but only Fang has actually told a lie. Several, in fact. And weren’t his lies way, way worse?”

“Like when he told Nyx his whole family was dead—”

“Dead to me,” Fang corrected again, his eyes flashing and mist dotting his scales. That also happened when he was nervous. “But you all miss the point—”

“Or embarrassed him in front of his mother?”

“That was awful! And don’t forget how he tried to steal Nyx’s inheritance.”

“No. No, this is what I am trying to explain. I tried to get him to leave Apati! For our safety!” Fang insisted.

“See?” Lili demanded. “He’s still at it. Trying to convince you that somehow I’m the problem – when all of the evidence points firmly at Fang. Classic gaslighting.”

“You—you horrible… This is just more lies,” Fang hiss-sputtered.

I arched an eyebrow at that. “Or… secrets,” he amended reluctantly. “But she hasn’t told you everything. The crafty hunter lies by omission.”

That one was new. Also, kind of on the nose.

It was obvious Fang was scrambling now. Unfortunate, but not unexpected. But at least we finally had an answer, that tension in my stomach easing—

“Something is still bothering me,” our therapist interjected, raising a pudgy hand. Everyone went quiet and my eyes went wide.

Oh, I bet this was going to be good. Maybe some sort of resolution of our relationship issues? I mean, this felt like it had been going on for a while – too long even. Like we’d somehow lost the point of the whole bro-newal celebration. But maybe we’d get some insight into why Fang kept deflecting blame onto Lili. Maybe he was just projecting his own insecurities onto her – you know, because it was easier than working on himself; on facing his own crippling trust issues? Or maybe he saw her as a surrogate mother figure?

And you all saw the issues between him and Manslaughter—

“How did Lili know what to write?” our therapist asked.

That was… ahh, not quite what I was hoping for. Also, kind of cryptic, right?

Yet Fang’s eyes flashed happily and he stabbed a finger at the overweight siren. “Exactly! How did she know those things about Horus? About Eris? Didn’t her plans work perfectly? Too perfectly. Nyx’s plans only work sometimes and he is a budding genius, yes? He says it many times,” Fang hissed. “So, how did Lili know?”

I liked that he intentionally weaved in some flattery this time, even if I hated the rest. Especially how our therapist was nodding, chins a-flapping once more.

“It’s a hole in her story,” the siren acknowledged.

And just when I thought we were almost out of the emotional woods – that I could finally relax – that writhing feeling in my stomach cinched tight once more. Especially since Lili had gone quiet again, tense and still, barely touching my core.

She hadn’t lied… not yet. But maybe Fang was right – even if I hated to admit it.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Maybe she was just a crafty hunter.

“Well, there’s Horus’ journal, right?” someone piped up.

“It’s possible that he wrote down information about himself and Eris. Enough to come up with a plan, maybe? For Lili to provide relationship advice…”

I was nodding now. Yeah… yeah, we probably read it in his—

“That makes sense for Horus, but not Eris,” our therapist murmured, heaving himself upright again and waddling the room. Shit, that was a bad sign.

Every time he paced, we got uncomfortable truths.

And I still really hated how everyone was watching him.

“Nyx stole the journal before he entered the corrupted gate, but Eris didn’t tell Horus about her childhood until long after,” our therapist began.

He raised a pudgy finger. “And how could Lili have known how they would react to the special herbs and spices? How did she tailor the doses so perfectly – enough for a small vulpin, an elf, and a huge tavros? Enough to calm but not kill?”

“Nyx experimented on the residents of Apati,” someone suggested.

“Except that also happened after she’d already left the vials and the notes – several weeks later, right?,” another retorted. “Honestly, the timeline is confusing.”

“It is. Do we even really know how much time passed?”

Whew. My heart was beating really fast, and I was feeling lightheaded.

Not, um, not because of their questions, of course!

Like I said, it was probably just because I hadn’t eaten in a long time…

“That’s true,” our therapist declared. “Which only leaves one possible explanation—”

“This is fascinating, but what about that snack break?” I suggested quickly.

“He’s right, I’m feeling ravenous,” Lili piped up, text itching up my arm.

Only for us to receive suspicious looks from our audience and therapist. Fang just crossed his arms and glared at us triumphantly. “You ate the rest of the food the last time you drifted,” he declared. “There is none left – no way to avoid this.”

He cocked his scaly head at our therapist. “Because I know what the fat walrus will say. This is finally proof. Lili could not write those letters unless she knew many things about Eris and Horus. What they were going to do. Where they were going to travel. Where they planned to stop. How much they each weighed to measure the doses. Their favorite foods to entice them into eating those dishes.”

Fang leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “And yet, she remembers nothing. Isn’t that what she said?” he insisted. “Back in the marshes. Before we began this so-called road trip? That she had lost her memories?”

“That’s not… but she… maybe I misunderstood…” I fumbled.

Searching for an answer. Any answer except the most obvious one.

“Tell him, Lili,” Fang demanded. “Tell him the truth.”

The room descended into silence.

Then black text slowly slithered across my skin.

“He’s—he’s right… sort of,” she answered finally.

And there it was. Proof. Irrefutable proof.

That Lili had lied. Lied to me. Just like Fang.

“But Nyx, listen,” she insisted. “It’s much more complicated than—”

“It is not complicated,” Fang interjected. “It is simple. She is a liar.”

The crowd was all muttering and murmuring and glaring. Like they agreed.

But before I could even begin to process her betrayal – our therapist made everything even worse. I was beginning to think that maybe – just maybe – that was his job.

If so, I would make an amazing therapist.

Ahh, right… but he had another question.

“Does that really explain how she knew all those things?” our therapist muttered, glancing down at his many notes and his brow creased in thought.

“Maybe she regained the memories of her past life, but how did she know those things about Horus and Eris? The two of them barely knew each other before the gate, but Lili somehow knew both of them? And what of the skills she displayed? Are we to believe Lili was not just a healer in a past life, but also a cook and an engineer and a matchmaker and an interior designer? That’s too complicated. Too much coincidence.”

He shook his head, fat rolls wobbling majestically. “There’s a simpler answer. Don’t we know someone who can do all those things – that has all those skills?”

And suddenly he was looking at me. They were all looking at me.

Under other circumstances, I would have loved it. Especially after our therapist had stolen the show at my own bro-newal.

Except, this time, the former tourists and tour-guides were staring all wide-eyed and confused. Our therapist’s mental wheels were still spinning – watching me as he pieced together the shattered fragments of my broken mind. And Fang was just gloating, his eyes shining in triumph now that we were finally facing these uncomfortable questions.

Like had Lili used my vessel to do all those things? Had she used my skills?

And that begged the question, didn’t it?

How had I gained all of those many impossible, insane skills?

I liked to think it was just me – that I was a budding genius.

And, I guess, in a way… it stills is – I still am.

But I’ve suspected for a while that those skills came from somewhere else.

That they came from you. The real audience in the room.

All of you. The phantom versions of me that have been hanging around for… well, cycles now. Living with me, laughing with me, traveling with me. Listening to my stories. Witnessing my overwhelming victories and incredibly infrequent defeats. Always mute. Always staring. Always judging. Just like you are now. And I suppose I deserve it.

Because I’ve been running from this problem for a while. Too long.

Which is why I already knew what Lili was going to say.

“They aren’t my memories, Nyx. They’re yours.”

I swallowed hard, that serpent in my stomach thrashing and writhing now, urging me to stop; to run away; to reject the truth. And I did. Or, at least, I tried.

“That’s… that’s not possible,” I murmured.

But the questions were mounting now. An inevitable buzzing tidal wave. One that had been building for a while. Ages. Questions I definitely didn’t want to ask. The ones I’d tried to push aside with another tangent. Another story. Another deflection.

But now they were here.

Like how had I known how to cook those recipes? Chisel that statue of myself? Build that incredible death wagon? Re-purpose a mountain of monkey crap? Renovate a city? I mean, you saw that whole presentation with the friendship juice and the creepy mechanical dolls, right? How did a poor, mentally-challenged young man from a fishing village build that? Was I supposed to believe it was just innate genius? All of it?

Or, as our therapist said. Was their simpler answer?

Did it come from you? All of you?

The only problem is that you can’t talk—

Or… can you? Have you been lying to me too? Just like Fang and Lili—

“They can’t,” Lili confirmed, text no longer scrawling up my arm. “But they have been communicating… with me,” she continued.

I cocked my head. What? Come again? How was that even possible?

“Is Lili talking?” Fang demanded, shouting in my ear. “Write the words, Lili! Write the words so we can be sure you do not tell more liesss.”

“Nyx, we should really talk about this privately first—”

“No, no he’s right,” I said aloud, my heart beating hard and fast, my palms suddenly sweaty. “If they can’t talk, how do you… how do we know those things?”

“Because we have their memories,” Lili answered slowly, my arm itching and the crowd pushing in close to read. “All of their memories. All of those other Nyxs. Countless lives, countless deaths. A million permutations of the same tragic story. But we also have the memories of others for some reason. Eris. Horus. Danae and Demi. They’re jumbled up and mixed together. Conflicting details, motives, perspectives.

“It’s too much… far too much for one mind to handle…”

She stopped speaking, but somehow I knew what she was going to say.

You probably do too, don’t you? You’ve suspected it for a while, right?

That I’m getting worse? Crazier?

Which could only mean one thing.

“And mine – ours – it can’t handle it,” I murmured.

We all knew it. Maybe we always had.

But it was easier to pretend we couldn’t, to distract ourselves—

“Yes, yes that’s right!” Lili exclaimed. “That’s how you’ve coped. Fang sees the drifts as a bad thing, but they’re necessary. It’s too much information for one mind to handle – at least if you focus on it. So, you needed a distraction.

“A family vacation. Road trip games. Construction projects. Staring contests and home renovations. Anything and everything besides the truth. That gave you an escape – gave those memories an outlet. That’s what kept you here – kept you grounded – kept you from simply drifting away altogether. That’s what Fang doesn’t understand.”

She was right. Even now, I could feel them. The memories. Overwhelming. Chaotic. A hundred. A thousand different version of this room. This forge. These people. Sometimes our therapist was whip thin. Sometimes savran. Sometimes a majestic meat mountain. Some details agreed and many more didn’t. Creating conflicts. Continuity errors.

I squeezed my eyes shut against those images; against the pain in my temples.

Yet the questions kept coming...

Like a boulder crashing downhill. Unstoppable. Inevitable.

How was this possible? Spirits could remember their past lives, but hadn’t there only been one? Was Lili suggesting I’d lived thousands? Millions? And only spirits remembered… so was I dead? Was my vessel somehow broken? And how did that explain the memories of other people? Of a demi-god? A tavros? An elf?

“I… I don’t know,” Lili muttered. “And the others, they won’t tell me.”

My brow furrowed at that, staring down at my left hand.

Even as I did, the scars kept shifting across the skin, wriggling and worming their way across my knuckles and spiraling up my arm. Injuries from other lives. Other monsters. Other friends and enemies. But which… which were real?

“I can’t remember—can’t control it,” I ground out, my head throbbing as I squeezed my eyes closed. To focus – to blot out the questioning judgmental gazes of our audience. The sympathy shining in the eyes of all those other-mes. I could barely focus on one memory before it slipped between my mental fingers.

“No, of course, you can’t,” Lili answered softly. “I can’t either. Even your current memories are hard to hold onto – why do you think it takes me so long to find things?”

My brow furrowed. That made sense, except—

“So how did you know? How did you make those plans – write those letters?”

Silence then. Hesitation. Lili considering her response—

“I figured out a way to communicate with the other yous.”

My eyes shot open, taking in those ghostly figures – peering into the eyes of those others mes. They were filled with the same surprise.

“What? How? They can’t talk—”

Ahh, and then I saw it. It was so fucking obvious.

You can’t talk, can you? At least, not yet. But you’re still me. Which means you each have a Lili too – one that can control our vessel. Move our fingers.

And write words across our skin.

I blinked and suddenly I could see.

I could see them all. A hundred. A thousand. A million notes written in corrupted letters and crawling up translucent skin. And all saying the same thing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We had no choice.”

The other-mes looked similarly shell-shocked, yelling at their hands and arms and feet and shoulders. It took my fractured mind a moment longer to figure out why. To understand the implications. How had I missed this before? Unless… unless Lili had—

“Unless she hid it from you,” Fang finished for me.

I could feel something snapping inside of me – something important…

This wasn’t a game anymore. Had long since stopped being fun. I wanted it to end. To go back to what I was before – blissfully ignorant. For Fang to stop talking.

But he didn’t. “And if she lied about this—” he hissed.

“I didn’t lie!” Lili snapped back. “I didn’t remember. They were his memories. And I didn’t lie about the other Lilis, I just hid it from him.”

Fang’s smile widened – shark-like and feral. “Ahh, yes. You are right. You did not lie. You did worse. You tricked him. Blinded him. Used him. All to hide the truth.

“And if she hid that, then what else is she hiding?” he hissed in my ear.

No one could answer that question – no one but Lili, who had gone silent. Not even those other-mes, who just stood there – for once not trying to speak or wave or gesticulate. For once not laughing. No, that was sympathy shining in their eyes. A familiar pain and anger – one so like my own. One that was my own.

I squeezed my eyes shut. As though that would somehow make it any less true. Any less real. As though simply forgetting something was enough to destroy it.

Just like Danae’s plan to kill death.

And then… there it was – a memory.

Crystal clear and painfully real.

Another escape.

So, I took it.