Chapter 33: Dark Night of the Voice

When one has great responsibilities, your choices matter less for you and more for others. The correct and righteous actions become so much harder to make. Sometimes too hard to take.

Perhaps it is not how heavy choices are, but how strong a person is. I can say, with confidence, that Vega is stronger than I could ever be.

Her eyes burned from crying so much. It wasn’t a tantrum whine or a wimpy sob. Water fell from her eyes like they fell from clouds. Chaotic yet uniform.

Vega’s face made no extreme expression. Not like her maniacal smile or sudden rage. Just bitter open eyes and a dry scowl. She didn’t light any candles beside her because she didn't want anyone to see herself like this. To see her as abnormal.

Sitting, for hours on end, Vega needed an answer.

She wondered why she was crying. She didn’t wish to cry. She didn’t even know how to cry, or how she was doing. Only living things could cry, right? That’s what she thought, that’s what she believed.

The scarecrow wanted it to stop.

Vega, in her simple wisdom, thought everything was okay. She and her friends saved people, and she helped people. What could be wrong?

Despite this, Vega started to get into a dangerous line of thinking. The measuring of people’s worth.

Valiato got hurt really bad. In fact, Amir's normally calm attitude was erased and replaced by fear. That's what was causing her to be so upset.

Yet, the accomplishment of saving the mermaids from being livestock trophies didn’t seem to matter. What matters is that her friends are in pain, not that they saved anyone from pain. Vega, in her mind, weighed her friends' safety and the mermaids.

Was all that effort worth it? Was helping people worth it? Was she worth it?

No.

The voice spoke. It whispered to her at a pitch no normal being could notice. But Vega did, and was confused. Why did the voice suddenly intrude on her thinking?

“What? What did ya say?” The scarecrow stood up, surrounded by the shadows of the lower deck. The only part she could see light was coming out from the entrance, a stormy purple.

“No? What do ya mean no?” Vega demanded, raising her head high. Her tears continued to fall, making her bag head wet. “I thought ya wanted me to help people? What’s so wrong with that now?” Her head slowly lowered back down as she looked to her right hand.

It wasn’t the same wood that originally made her. Made from stronger material and metals, this part of her was different. Right then and there, she stopped crying.

“What’s wrong with me?” Vega’s compassion won instead of her ambition. Her belly whirled around, disgusted that she would even consider not helping people in need.

She hated crying. She hated seeing those she cared about suffer for her failures. But she fucking hated not being a good person. She wasn’t trading good people or anything to avoid that type of pain.

“Crying ain’t so bad now.” She croaked out, tired by the hours of pain she went through. “I’m not strong enough yet. But I can be.”

Vega picked herself up and wandered over to the upper deck, hoping that Valiato was better. As she did, she told herself to now remain skeptical of the voice in her future.

Slowly opening the door to Amir’s room, Vega could tell he had also remained awake the entire night. The room before Valiato’s wounding was organized like a workshop. Cabinets and pots full of tools and Tripolian medicines and curios once laid in the corners of the room were spilled and splattered across the floor.

Amir’s style of direct purpose for everything in the room had been evicted by Valiato’s fashion. More spontaneous, creative, and very fun despite the circumstances. If there wasn’t the smell of dried blood and sweaty skin, you could almost call it cozy.

No one made a noise. I think all of them were too tired to make a noise. Not just in the way a body needs rest. But in the way like an old rope that has remained in use for decades and yet refuses to break. Fibers too thin and knots too soft. Just… tired.

The girl’s eyes fluttered open like a withering butterfly. She was alive, yes, but losing strength fast. Her eyes rolled over to Vega and a smile kinder than starlight appeared on her face.

“Hey Vega…” Valiato spoke slowly, almost as if the act of speaking was straining.

Amir’s head shot up fast as he sluggishly walked over to Valiato. He too had been hurt, but he didn’t focus on his own injuries.

“Hello Valiato, how-how ya doing?”

“It burns a lot, and yet I kind of feel cold.” Valiato laid her thumb on her wound. Wrapped with bandages soaked in oils, the girl had a spicy mineral smell. “But I’m alive…. We’re all alive.”

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Vega's pained soul had a little relief seeing Valiato in good spirits. She would take a long time to recover for sure. But at least she would recover. Amir went on his knees and put his chin on the table which Valiato rested.

“~Why didn’t you listen to me?~” Amir asked with great anxiety. No anger or sadness.

“~I wanted to help Florato… She would have gotten hurt.~” Valiato closed her eyes, not wanting to see Amir’s begging eyes. The scarecrow in one of the few rare times in her life, felt like she was intruding. She took off her hat, bowed, and went off looking for Florato.

Her search would be quick as the actress was resting against the railing with a thin cloth blanket. Florato’s palms looked like mittens with how much bandages were wrapped around them. Her Vega’s hand reached out for Florato, but she pulled back. She instead decided to look for her guitar instead.

Only a minute later, she had her instrument in both hands. Vega's arms felt sore from holding it, like she was carrying a mountain. Shambling over to the Pinnance’s nose, she climbed the railing and sat before the Thakian Sea.

The sun, although blocked by thick clouds of violent violet clouds, spread across the horizon like peach slices. Vega could sense a great world beyond her. Perhaps full of joys but also feelings.

“Wonder. Wonder. Wonderwander.” The scarecrow’s fingers played a melody similar to the sounds she heard back in Cold Cavern.

The chants of the temple. When the waves scattered across the rocky coasts. The chatting between the people. She imagined how much had changed, and how her worldview had changed.

She wasn’t alone anymore. She had people she could really trust. And yet, something was not quite right. What Florato had said when she played that she had ‘talent’. A gift and yet didn’t respond the right way.

“Maybe it has something to do with the voice…” Vega thought out loud. The voice had always encouraged her to join other people, to invest in them. But now, it sounded far more personal. More close. More like her own voice than ever before.

“Hmm. Maybe, it's not just about others. Maybe it's about me?” Vega stopped playing as she lifted her right hand to her eyes. “I’m enough? I did that?”

Their conversation before the Barbed Lass appeared bounced in her head. Accomplishment with people. Not enough. YOU did that.

“I did that.” Vega stood, laying the guitar by her legs. The word esteem came in her mind, and rooted itself in her soul.

“Esteem.. Esteem for myself and what I’ve earned. Maybe, that’s why the voice spoke to me the way it did…” Vega didn’t like it. The voice aimed to turn her into a rejection of her soul.

Just how everyone had treated her. The priestess back in Vein Xinyuai. The actors in Core Civitus. Throughout all of her journey, she had met various sentient beings that regarded her as less than. Not as bright or not thoughtful. Not enough.

“Why… Why wouldn’t I treat them the same? What’s wrong with me?” Vega’s hands balled up into fists.

You’re too weak.

Vega was like a flower underneath a waterfall. Each time she tried to stand up and reassure herself, the voice would shower her with every opposing force possible.

“Shut-shut up.”

You’re a fool for letting your friends get hurt.

“No!”

Listen to me. You know the reason you started this journey. It wasn’t for any of your friends or even yourself. Evil scum gave you a task and you couldn’t help to refuse.

Luioscles, the trader back in Core Civitus, reappeared in Vega’s mind. What was she traveling for? The box. The odd box. The odd box in her chest. The odd box that he wanted to get to the capital of Periatus. He hadn’t even told her its name. She knew it now, but Uvi Jantok was a cloud in the sky. As far as Vega and the party cared now, the capital was on the moon.

“No. That’s not the-the real reason, is it?” Vega prepared an assault and the voice’s accusation. “I can-can hear ya. I know ya need me to help ya. You wanted me to help ya.” Vega’s memory wasn’t flimsy. Even months after, she could hear the call drilling harder into her head. She remembered the voice’s pain. It’s demand. It's command.

Suddenly, everything stopped for the scarecrow. No clouds moved. The wind disappeared. Like the world just ceased to move. No, like she ceased having control over her body. The voice shook and Vega’s chains formed.

Obey!

“Vega? Are you crying?” Skaldi’s voice broke through the trance, as Vega turned back to see the elf. She held anxieties over his reaction to her in this weak state. Vega feared that the elf would see her as pathetic.

The elf hugged the scarecrow.

“Hey, its alright.” Skaldi’s voice comforted Vega. Right then and there Vega truly appreciated the sense of touch. She could feel his tender breath on her shoulder. How he felt so plush like a pillow. And his voice…

It wasn’t like the Priest.

It wasn’t like the Mayor.

And wasn’t like the Voice.

It was exactly like her’s. Odd and kind.

“I understand Vega. You’re scared and I’m scared too. But we’re doing the right thing.” Skaldi moved his hand to her shoulder. He seemed ten feet tall to the scarecrow.

“We’re going to make it. So don’t give up. Because if I have learned anything from you, what matters is that we tried to make a world with less suffering.” Skaldi walked her over to the ship’s edge. The family of mermaids swimming fast beside them, waving and smiling. Ren was down there too, instead of waving he was pointing.

The two lifted their heads to the horizon, seeing an island as luxurious as golden honey.

“And damn did we succeed.” Vega tears again subsided. She was in control, thanks to Skaldi’s compassion. The elf’s words pulled her from a bottomless pit of self doubt and destruction.

For some odd reason, Vega felt lighter than normal. Not in the way of weightlessness, or being physically healthy. In the way that the mind holds a cup of water, causing sores and pains. Like a titanic statement was lifted from her shoulders.

If you were a better person, you wouldn’t be here. That heavy phrase was taken from Vega’s soul and tossed like trash on the side of the road.

“Thanks Skaldi. I… really appreciate that.” The scarecrow’s voice shivered out a sweet reply.

“It’s the least I could do. Plus, me and Bolato have been thinking. About what Florato learned and what I found among their maps.”

“What-what is it?” Vega’s demeanor became that of playful friendship. Not with a sharptooth smile but a pleasant grin.

“Come to our room and we’ll show you.” Skaldi walked away, as his steps made wet cracks across the ship’s floor. Taking one last glance at the island before her, Vega didn’t thank the voice for convincing her to go on this journey. She murmured a simple prayer for the gratitude of friends.

Swiftly after, the scarecrow skipped to the couple’s room…

…From a great distance spanning rivers of blue water, oceans of shining green, and the golden steppe, Ani Arma raged in his fortress. Both the weight of his sickness and armor couldn’t contain his violence.

He had lost something. Something close to him. Something that would play a key role in the coming conflict.

Ani lost his control over the scarecrow named Vega.