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Wyatt Graves

Sitting across Earl in the wagon as he retells everything that occurred to them over the past few months, I listen with extreme focus. Their trip might not have taken them to the Underworld or Starkbluffs, but they went plenty far into the depths of Blackreach, a city known for its wretchedness hidden beneath the glamour.

Edward hides beneath the sewers, where the criminals used to lie. Not anymore, do they, though. He ensured that, but Elizabeth and Earl joined in some of those attacks. The things they recount give me shivers, from children forced to rob for food to criminals who run entire sections of the city with an iron fist. Elizabeth's detail is so specific that I can almost imagine myself there.

"The bustling streets of Blackreach were beautiful at first glance, full of lamps, steel, and shifting bodies, yet beneath the facade, you could almost touch the corruption. The city withers under the weight of hidden vices and unsavory dealings. I could see people working hard for their futures, doing all they could to get by while just a corner away, someone was peddling foul substances or threatening people for coins."

Elizabeth takes a breath, her eyes filling with tears as Johnny pats her on the back. She is the one to do most of the explanation as Earl is currently busy working with his 'Coil' in his lap, the weapon beyond my comprehension needing critical repairs after the rapid shots fired earlier. Primrose also is now sleeping. All she needs is some rest to recover fully; Earl already did most of the medical work.

"Edward took me to many places and showed me many things. I know he did it to help me gain experience, but it... it was sometimes too much."

The woman continues, her words weaving a painting in the mind of Johnny, Virgil, Earl, Bonfire, and I. I stay silent as I imagine the scenes.

Within the confines of Blackreach, it is no longer the city of prosperity it once was half a century ago. Shady figures lurk in darkened corners, whispering secrets and exchanging illicit goods under the cover of dusk. Corruption weaves its tendrils deep within the fabric of the community. Hunters turned lawbreakers, businessmen driven by greed, and power-hungry individuals manipulate the weak for their own gain. The city's veins pulse with an undercurrent of lawlessness, where justice becomes a distant memory, overshadowed by bribery, extortion, and unsolved crimes.

Yet, Edward came to rid the city of that disease, and he did what he could, even if Myriad did what he could to stop him. The two are rapidly becoming bloody rivals.

Within the depths of this city, corruption thrives like a poisonous vine, entangling the hearts and minds of its residents. Elizabeth's voice grows somber as she recounts tales of Hunters turned Outlaws beneath the stone bricks of the city, their badges tarnished by greed and betrayal as many followed Myriad's madness for profit and renown. She speaks of Estates whose insatiable thirst for power blurs the line between right and wrong and the innocent who fall prey to their machinations.

Yet, even in the darkest of nights, there are glimmers of hope. Her voice rises with an undercurrent of resilience as she describes the few who dare to challenge the status quo. Edward wasn't the first. He was merely the one to tip the balance. Parts of the city are being regained. In fact, the entire southwestern portion of the town that acts as a whole Territory belongs to Edward, the northwestern to Myriad, and the east to the Scalding Iron.

Every day, more and more are freed, hope igniting within these people's hearts as they are no longer forced to work for an unfeeling entity. Instead, they join a growing cause. One lower-level Estate, the Fulers, was even wiped out by Edward as they didn't possess anything more than a single Forerunner to defend themselves with an Arca. Elizabeth's words make me think that Edward is doing a much better job than us.

I mean, how many have we saved? A hundred at most if you count the Bado, but we've gotten twice that number killed during Rustbank and the events afterward. So many died in Starkbluffs before we even arrived.

Meanwhile, Edward is gathering arms, clearing territory, and improving lives. Elizabeth ends her story focusing on the future.

"Edward plans to force the entire city to live under his rule, and then, he will try to spread outward, pushing back the Estates to free more people from their faux slavery. He told us that we are always welcome back, and that any revolution needs revolutionaries. Though, he remains afraid of Eli, Ed, and Maddox in case one of the Virtues decides to remove his head."

The words visibly move Johnny as he nods along with Elizabeth, commenting on the offer with a low whisper and shaking to Virgil. The man of night runs his fingers along the edges of every canvas, closing it with his rarely used skill, Bubble, to isolate sound. Johnny must still be paranoid but can't use Abraham for communication as he's asleep.

"We might just. But first, we must do something else. Marshall has to be struggling, and if the man were to fall and I choose not to help, I'd never forgive myself. I'm sure many of you feel the same."

We all agree with unspoken nods as the wagon continues to turn its wheels toward our destination. Not a single one of us wants to see that man die, much less possibly be a reason for it occurring. We all look up to such a legendary figure, as he inspires all. Hopefully, we will make it in time to save him.

Our attention then turns to Earl as Elizabeth finishes talking about Blackreach, a city I very much want to see for myself. If it's that bad, I can't imagine what Qune is like, as it is known for its corruption.

The young man glances up at us, parts of metal in each hand as he tries to pry magnets off each other.

"The inner metal melted a bit, so I need to fix it while I try and think of a better way for the coil to work. Oh, and do you have any Crimferor?"

Johnny snickers with a shake of his head.

"Of course not, Earl. That shit is a fortune, and only the best Craftsman work with it because of how tough it is. And why does the handle of your gun resemble a broomstick? That model looks different from Primrose's Colt. And by the Devil, does it seem like you've ruined that piece of art."

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Earl emphatically waves the pieces in his hands as he tries to explain.

"It's not a broomstick! It's just a grooved-down piece of wood to fit the magnets! And, of course, it's different! And it's not ruined! It comes from an improved version of Icarus' Maus, the gun's model, and has many of my modifications."

With a weak chuckle, I turn my attention away from his argument and face Virgil.

"So, that competition?"

Virgil smiles back with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, yeah. When we either take a break for repairs or get a chance at Bent, I'm all for it."

Perfect! I pat him on the shoulder with joy; the deal is sealed. Then, I turn over to Elizabeth, offering a hand out to her.

"Wanna see something?"

She glances at Earl talking to Johnny about firearms before agreeing. I clasp my hand around hers as I pull her out of the wagon onto the outside wooden rail, Virgil sighing as he resets his Bubble.

"Grab on."

Elizabeth only manages to wrap an arm around me before I invoke Leash with swirling Ether upon the wagon's roof and pull us up, the girl yelping as we leap up.

"Ah!"

I chuckle as we land atop the vehicle, Elizabeth slapping my arm.

"What the hell! No warning?"

Trying to cool her anger, I apologize with a surprise. Something that I just wanted to share with someone else. Everyone else has already seen it because Johnny had me show it off, but Elizabeth wouldn't know anything about it.

"I'm sorry, really. But look at this. She's called the Blooming Spider Lily. My Ma gave her to me."

I give Lily a long look as I show it to Elizabeth.

The black steel of the firearm glistens in the dim starlight, concealing the mysteries that lie within. Roving red lilies, like restless phantoms, dance and shift across her surface, their petals a vibrant crimson that seems to pulse with a life all their own. I can't help but be entranced by their ever-changing patterns, an enigma in constant motion, something more dreamlike than real.

With each finger upon it, the weight of the Blooming Spider Lily reassures me of its presence, a tangible reminder of the responsibility she bestows upon me and the power she guarantees. The grip molds perfectly to the contours of my hand, offering comfort and familiarity. As my fingers curl around the handle, a chill runs through my veins, as if the very essence of the weapon courses through me. And it does, as even without words, I understand that she is happy for me to hold her.

But it is the revolver's lethal ability that truly gives me pause. A single shot from Lily is all it takes to claim a life, for it possesses the uncanny power to drain the very essence of its target. As I envision the crimson lilies swirling and shifting with ethereal grace, I am reminded of the impending doom that awaits those unfortunate enough to be in its path, as well as the cost that the wielder must face.

Yet, I shake those thoughts away as I hold it to Elizabeth, the woman gasping with a hand over her mouth.

"My... it's beautiful. Is this what you were after Alexos for?"

I nod, clicking open the chamber of the revolver.

"Yeah, but I'm out of bullets now. So... it's unsafe to shoot it."

The girl beside me laughs, an ironic laugh on her lips.

"Really? Has that ever stopped you before? Where is the reckless Wyatt I knew from before? The one that could overcome any obstacle with brute force and will?"

Her words only make my heart sink. I don't think I've changed much; instead, it is the world that has.

"I don't know... recently... things have felt pointless, y'know?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows rise, and she scoots a bit closer to me.

"What do you mean? How long is 'recently'?"

I shrug, unsure how to word it.

"The past day? Or two? Three? I don't know. It's just... we're running out of time. And... there is far too little for any of us to matter."

Elizabeth immediately asks me how we are running out of time, and I explain the whole deal with the Mother Below. It takes several minutes as I fuck up the details a few times and have to circle back. She is startled by the awakening of such an old and dangerous God, but the woman handles it better than I expected.

"So... you're feeling down because you're beneath the future enemy?"

I nod. Of course, I'm beneath them. From Eli Weiss to the Prime, I'm weaker than them all, not to mention the literal Gods that exist to kill us. And that thought only makes it worse. The Mother Below isn't alone. A dozen other deities are likely under her control and will become much more active once she does. As far as we know, they are inactive because of her slumber. Once she awakes, the dozen living Gods will likely rage as they did during the Collapse. Hell, if not for the God of Weather, Lawless Lake would simply be a deep valley, not a body of water. Some think millions drowned during that event alone.

But Elizabeth brooks this answer as some kind of confirmation, continuing with her questions.

"And how bad is the difference? Is it insurmountable? Are they able to crush even you like a bug? I know you've grown since I saw you last. Just the aura around you is different. So, are they that far beyond you, these enemies?"

Again, I nod.

And again, she asks a question.

"And when have you never been faced with an insurmountable enemy? The Wyatt I met, the Wyatt I traveled with, and the Wyatt I've grown to care for is not someone to give up when faced with the impossible."

I let her words sink in as the wagon travels, my mind ruminating on her words as we spend some time in silence. Maybe she's right. But... she doesn't understand. Not really.

None of them have seen that legion. The endless horde of those following the Mother Below. At the moment, I could resist, but only after being given help by Lily. And even then, it was only a mental imprint of those beings, not their actual forms.

If they were to all actually attack... we'd be overrun in seconds. Johnny can't shoot that fast. Bonfire can't conjure enough fire, and even Virgil can't hide from that many.

My eyes trail upward, following the remaining stars in the sky as the sun is soon to rise, the silence provoking thought.

As I stare into the abyss above, a sense of insignificance washes over me. The weight of the world, the vastness of the skies, bears down upon my weary shoulders. I cannot help but question my own existence amidst the grand tapestry. The stars, distant and shimmering, mock my mortality. They twinkle as if teasing me with their infinite life and time. Anger simmers at the imagined teasing but quickly fades.

In the grand scheme of things, I am but a fleeting presence, a mere flicker in the vastness of time. The world spins on, oblivious to my struggles and aspirations. No matter how I try, I won't overcome this vast difference. There is simply not enough time. One year? At the most until she awakes? There is no one to stop the one below besides the Devil, and I struggle to imagine him fighting without exacting a price upon humanity.

On this moonless night, my weaknesses become magnified as darkness veils the landscape. I feel the weight of my limitations, the fragility of my mortal frame. But as I watch the stars, a light breaches the darkness, a point of dawn conjuring on the edge of the horizon.

And as we move toward the rising sun, I see the twins above, cloaked in the sun's light, appear despite how moonless it was. The sunlight streams beside me in visible beams that land on a figure next to me, one oddly quiet.

Glancing over to Elizabeth, I realize she's asleep on the roof, her head tucked onto a curled-up blanket for when guards keep their vigil from here.

I'll just do what I can to help. I may not be able to do much in the grand scheme, the high thinkers and fighters far above me, but perhaps I can still help here on the ground. I don't want my friends to die. Maybe... maybe after we help Marshall, we run away. Autumn is merely awaiting the perfect time to run for her life, to escape all this peril.

I don't care about myself dying. What I do care for is the others dying. Having their deaths on my conscious... it would be too much. I've already gotten enough killed. And I know myself.

Even if there were nothing for me to do to help, the foes miles beyond me in power, I would still blame myself. The guilt would overpower me just as it did with Edmund. That guilt compelled me to fight without care; if I died, that was fine. I deserved it. Since then, I've come to terms with his death. I might have caused it, but that's alright. He would've and probably did forgive me. My heart still aches when I think of what happened to his soul, but again, that was beyond my control.

So many things are.

In the distance, trees gradually fade to diminutive shrubs, the forest turning into marsh. Halfway there. Then, we can be safe afterward. I'll just have to convince them. I don't want to see any more die.

Sacate... that was a lot for me. Not to mention Bonfire and Abraham, who nearly died as well. That legion could do it all in moments. The numbers just keep dropping. How long until I'm back in that forest? Alone. Starving. Hopeless. Moving merely on memories of happier times.

Fuck. I need something to distract myself with. This shit is too much. I want to talk to someone about it, but they don't understand. Autumn did, though, so maybe I will speak to her. For now, though, I wonder if Bonfire and his crew are down for a game of cards.

The house always wins, but that's fine with me. I don't mind losing. If anything, I think I'm used to it.

Standing on the wagon, I grab the pillow and blanket up here for guard duty before and set Elizabeth's head on the former as I wrap her in the latter. The woman doesn't make any noise as I do so, and I nod before heading down the wagon to find Bonfire.

Hopefully, he didn't burn all the cards when he Immolated himself.