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351 - Sawdusty Meanings

351 - Sawdusty Meanings

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Silas 'Twice-Alive' Moon

My legs dangle from a tree as I stare at the shallow graves dug. Dozens span the length of this field, filled with unmoving, decaying flesh. They are like me, yet not. So many dead people. So many ruined futures. I broke through my shattered future months ago by breaching the surface, only it didn't feel like it. Rain is pouring, slapping against my skin as it slides down the tree I sit upon.

I just wish I could feel the cold.

Or the warmth.

Now, even the only person I had connected with is gone. During our time at Bent... we grew close. Now, it doesn't matter.

I try to scratch the match in my hand to ignite it ablaze, but it's sodden. The damn thing won't light at all. Instead, my gaze falls to the cigar in my other hand.

I just wish I could...

A crack of a broken branch sends my senses into overdrive, the remnants of my years of close survival and war igniting as my match wouldn't. I flick my pupils around, searching in the direction of the sound over the pelting rain.

They find me first.

"Come to pay your respects to Millie, Silas? Instead of constantly creating excuses and being late, perhaps you should have come to the funeral before dinner."

Tomas' tone bites into my core, the depths of my soul as he stumbles to Millie's grave. He's still severely injured, as Dawn can only do so much for what happened to him. Apparently, the tough bastard lost one in three of his organs—one in three of all of them.

I slide off the tree, landing deftly as I stride beside the fallen man. They must think me heartless. I am not. I am simply... too caring. I always have been. That's why E... that's why she chose me.

"I've been here since dawn."

Tomas' head swivels in an instant, staring at me as he flinches in pain. Then, his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Why? Why do you care so much?"

I step beside Millie's grave, a piece of granite erected from the earth. Her corpse isn't inside it, only the little things she had within the train. Crouching close to the rock, I place my palm against the rock, rubbing it softly.

"I've seen... so many die. She was similar. Our hearts broke at every passing. She wasn't... my past wife, but I cared for her. Not that we had very much time. At least I will remember her name."

Tomas nods lightly, kneeling before the gravestone with a mountain of effort and blood that leaks out his mouth as his eyes rise and trail over all the others. The Angel grits his teeth so hard that I can hear them crack over the rain. Then, I hear it. Painsforge. A thumping bolt of power resounds through the droplets in the air, a warning to those who would try the man. Hardly any rain can even reach him as Marshall's son's heart roars with a furious thunder, akin to that which is above us, knocking away the water. Even as his tears fall and join the sky's tears, I envy him.

I wish I could cry.

"Too many, Silas. Too many. I'm the last of the Colonels. How long until I'm the last of the soldiers? How long..."

I slide a hand onto his shoulder, understanding the feeling. In the Underworld, lives are but dust in the wind. Up here, it's not that much better.

"How long until you're alone? I can't answer that. But... at least when you die, it'll be over. You'll get to rest. You... you get to sleep."

Tomas sobs, his whole body shriveling from the motion as I see tidbits of red join the rain. He's reopened some of his wounds. The raging heartbeat, however, warns me against saying something. Instead, I let him rage.

"It's not fair. I do everything I can. I train, I train, I train, and I train. Every waking moment is spent in pursuit of being stronger, but it's never enough. I'll never be enough to save those that I need to. How do you do it? How do you watch so many die before you? Don't you feel powerless? Useless? How are you not... dead inside?"

I allow my legs to drop me next to Tomas on the ground, staining my coat with mud and blood. He thinks I can withstand this all? Doesn't he know I lost a long time ago? I'm just going through the motions at this point, walking ahead like a...

Like a dead man.

"I gave up a long time ago. Now, I just go where the wind takes me. I can't eat any food worth a damn. I can't sleep to recuperate. I can't even raise the wood between my pants. I can't... I can't feel the cold. Or the warmth. All I can do is fight and shuffle onward. At least in the Underworld, I was surrounded by those like me. Here? I'm reminded of all that I'm not; I just can't bring myself to care about anything anymore. I think... I think I'm not human anymore."

Tomas' head hangs low after my words, his shoulders falling limp. I breathe in deeply, taking in the damp, wet, rainy air before releasing a colossal sigh that shakes the puddle beside me. Slowly, Tomas raises his head, staring at me directly.

"You haven't given up yet, Silas. You still care."

I scoff at him, but he curses at me, flailing his hand toward me. I scoot backward to dodge, but he's too fast, even while injured. His grip holds me like a vice.

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"You are human, Silas. The fact you were here all day proves it. These deaths hurt you. You said it yourself. As long as you can feel pain... you are still human. Those monsters... You are not like them. Like Eli. Like Lennon. Like Maddox. You have a heart, even if it doesn't beat any longer."

Exerting more strength, I try to pull away, but Tomas tightens his palm, preventing me from budging at all. Instead of my escape, he brings his eyes to my fires.

"Promise me, Silas. No matter how many days pass. No matter how many centuries fly, you will stay human. Promise me."

His eyes are bloodshot, nearly seeping with the crimson liquid as he begs me for an oath. I open my mouth to warn him instead. I don't need to promise him anything. We hardly know each other. The only thing we shared was having Millie as a close companion.

"You're bleeding, Tomas. Bad. Let's get you back to the tents."

But Tomas shakes his head and squeezes even more harshly. This time, it hurts. Dulled, of course, but it hurts.

"Stop! Let go!"

Tomas glares at me, demanding his promise.

"Tell me that you will stay human."

I relent, giving the man what he wants so that I can bring him to the tents. I nod to him to make him shut up, but that's not enough.

"Verbal. You need to say it."

Gritting my teeth through the rain, I deliver his promise.

"I promise I'll stay human."

The moment I let the words go, the meaning takes hold. Tomas' Power makes him a monster. It gives him claws, fur, regeneration, and a dozen other traits. All of which are incredibly powerful. Does he...?

"Say it back."

Tomas' eyes widen in surprise as I tighten my own grip, knowing that I can't hurt him. He seems initially unwilling, but I clench my fist until my bones break upon his.

"Say it back."

The Inhuman Wolf nods, returning the oath as blood trickles from his mouth.

"I promise I'll stay human. No matter what."

Squinting, I see a slight bit of motion from far behind him. As I look closer, I discover it's a fallen horse with a puddle of blood around it. The color is the same as the liquid in his mouth.

The Power isn't only giving him strength. It's changing him to the core. I think I understand Birdie's warnings now.

"Be careful of the new Angels, especially those of the living or those with high amibitions. They are dangerous, even to their allies. Their Sigils, newly embedded with their souls, will affect their minds. It takes great time or force of will to bypass Impulse."

Tomas is the first one to show signs of Impulse. It makes sense. He's young, and his Sigil has a profound bestial nature. Johnny has had plenty of time throughout his life to acclimate his mind, while Lennon obviously has a force of will beyond most others. That man... he has held the strength of an Angel long before he became one.

Time will tell whether or not Kate will fall to an Impulse as well. Maybe she will. Perhaps she won't. For now... I have a job to do. I can rest when I die a second time up here.

"Come, Tomas. Let's get you some real food."

Tomas nods, stepping after me as I walk away from the graves, but he pauses for a moment, staring up at the falling rain. I raise an eyebrow as water splashes into his eyes and mine. I join him, glancing up as the wetness joins mine.

"Is something the matter?"

I call out to him again, and he shifts his attention back down before walking beside me and beyond my frame, leaving words that provoke my thoughts.

"Do we fight in order to get more power, or do we get more power in order to fight? Is there any reason for all of this fighting? All this death? Or... never mind. I know my purpose. Find yours, Deadman."

***********

Earl Garner

My hands clack back and forth with the steel in my hand, carefully inserting the final part for Primrose's new Colt. It hasn't been too difficult to make, only a minor change to another Colt as she grew to like how the last one worked. Virgil had the Mars, and now he's gone.

So... I had to replace it.

Stepping back from my worktable, I take a deep sigh, finding something missing. Wyatt isn't here to laugh at it or praise it. Elizabeth is too busy throwing herself at training, pushing herself every waking moment to be stronger. And here I am doing the same thing, only in my own way.

We aren't like him. There is only so much we can take before we break. And like her, I'm concerned for him, but...

If there is someone to be tossed into an inhospitable hellhole and crawl his way out, it'd be Wyatt. He's done it... exactly twice now. A third wouldn't be too surprising.

He pulled himself, along with a half dozen refugees, through Tornridge to safety. He was stabbed, starved, shot, and beaten, but he didn't give up. Even after I betrayed him.

Wyatt has ventured into the Underworld and crawled his way out. The multitude of demons, monsters, and humans that blocked his path didn't stop him.

What worries me, however, is his naivety.

The fact he was willing to simply listen to me again after what I did to him...

He should have killed me. Wyatt had every right to.

I tossed him to wolves, effectively signing a death warrant for him. If he wasn't a Graves and trained by Edmund... Johnny would have just put a bullet in his head and been done with it.

Wyatt isn't as naive as he once was, but he still makes suboptimal choices. He doesn't think things through clearly, mostly because he's always so doped up on adrenaline that he can't see two steps ahead, let alone five.

I rag on him a bunch, but it's the truth. His limits are blatant, and anyone who wishes to beat him would just take advantage of that. They'd lure him into a trap quite easily with some trick and end him there.

Whether that can happen in the Wastes, I don't know. His survival is dependent on whether he can brute force his way out of the trap before he and Blodwyn die.

"Primrose?"

A dozen feet away, Primrose lifts her head from the table she is resting on as her eyes light up like a living flame. I can feel my heart accelerate in its beating in excitement for finishing the weapon, and I motion for the gun.

"It's done. Grab your Colt, and then we can go around the city. I have some things I need to pick up if I am to keep making weapons."

Her soft red hair, more vibrant than usual due to washing it, trails after her as she picks up the Colt. Primrose holds it softly in her hands before twisting and wrapping her hands around me. I go to push her off, but I stop and let the hug continue.

Rarely does she touch me without some form of push or threat. It feels nice. She's super soft. The joy doesn't last long, however.

A few seconds later, Primrose pulls back and smiles at me with a wide grin. Then, she pivots on her heels and storms out of the tent, kicking up dust on her way out.

"Come on! Let's get you your stuff! Then, you can make me something even better!"

Sighing, I follow her, almost tripping over my bag of medicines before heading out.

*************************

Mie 'Mind's Eye' Summers

"Kate. Kate. Kate."

Fuck. She still won't wake up! How long will it be?

"Aniwye? Aniwye?"

The demon won't wake up either. I was put to guard her since I don't sleep, but that doesn't mean I enjoy being a watchdog. I'll still do it since I can read Loving Rains while doing so.

Nevertheless, it's getting dull. Anwiye is unmoving, seemingly lost in a coma from her wounds, while Kate is still in hibernation. I guess it'll take my sister a month to wake up as well.

Stepping forward, I move closer to Aniwye's overside carriage that holds her. It's more like a small building to bear her weight than a vehicle, but it does it all nonetheless.

To see her properly, I have to spread out my Ether over her, gaining clarity as Omnisense clouds her form. But as I do so for the first time since I sat to read Loving Rains, my—our heart trembles.

Her mind isn't here anymore. It's left.

How? What? Wait... Aniwye. The Dreaming Locust—one of her many titles. She can hop from dream to dream. It's said that's how she is so hard to catch. But.. her body is right here? I can see it clearly.

I reach forward to touch it, to prove to my mind that she exists, but nothing graces my fingers. The lack of flesh on flesh sends a chill down my—our spine.

She's here. But she's not. Her body has entered a dream, but who's?

Who is around? We were separated from all the other tents for this very concern. There is no one here with me who is...

Kate. Kate is sleeping.

"Aniwye. If you hurt her, I will rip you limb from limb."

My most meaningful and meant threat growls out into the open air, echoing against the splattering rain. However, I get no response.

"I know you can hear me. I will force my way in if you do not say something right this fucking instant!"

I scream into the night, shouting for the demon, and she replies after only a moment. She doesn't speak verbally, however. The noise of her words bounces off within my mind.

"Relax, Created. I am not doing anything malicious. She is Wyatt's friend. I can see that in her memories. I am simply watching while I use her mind to probe for Wyatt. Until I am healed, this is the best way to guarantee my safety."

I grind the teeth in this jaw of mine to her words, but I can't argue. She's an 8th Sigiled, and even injured, the battle we would have in Kate's mind would kill her. Not to mention, among the current generation of demons that are still in action and that haven't retired to their old abodes, Aniwye is one of the most feared.

My confidence in taking her is near zero. Fear is very rarely unearned among demons.

"Fine. Just don't hurt her."

I wait a moment to hear a mental nod come from Aniwye. But... I can't help bust ask something else of the Angel.

"What is she dreaming of right now?"

Aniwye is quiet for several moments, the wait nearly kills me before she speaks again.

"Of her and her father. It is incredibly lighthearted, something I don't think I've ever seen in all my life. I am realizing how... interesting it would have been to of actually raised my son."