A Silent Corner of Eternity

After a few hours of walking in exhausted silence, the familiar blue glow of a teleportation crystal beckoned to them from the darkening fog. Nightfall was swiftly approaching, and neither Tomita nor Izhari wanted to be in that place when the sun vanished. Upon reaching the crystal, Izhari extended her hand to touch the smoothed stone.

“Take me to the secret grieving world. Where time does not exist.”

Tomita glanced at her in curiosity, but they were already vanishing. Across space and time they went, and then they appeared in an enormous cavern. A vast expanse of shimmering stalagmites and dripping ledges stretched high into the heavens. The very air felt unusual. Every breath that Tomita breathed in was cool, flat, yet soothing. He swore he heard whispers of screams and cries of sorrow, but it did not frighten him.

There was something unnaturally pleasant in their release. Hearing them gave him a sensation that was not unlike hearing windchimes in a forgotten temple on a gentle summer evening.

Izhari hunched forward and exhaled in release. Her body was nearly broken. Trembling hands rubbed her chest as she sat and let the feeling of this cavern coat her body. This place was known to her.

“There was once a realm where time moved so slowly, it seemed to stop. Sound could not be heard beyond those who were near. Water did not flow, but it did not freeze. It was a sacred, cautionary place. It was a space for those in suffering to come and grieve. To let sorrow consume them for however long they needed without needing to be concerned with the ongoings of the outside world…”

Her ears flicked as she listened for the echo of her voice that did not return. Though she could not see it, the walls were pulsing in calming, unnatural green blips of rippling ether. In the distance, innumerable bodies became visible. They were frozen. Locked in place but not statues. Tomita found himself moving to them and briefly felt a slight whisper of terror when he realized they were other living beings. Strange, mystical creatures of all races and sizes, stuck forever in positions of weeping and wailing.

“The realm was as much of a curse as it was a gift. Mourners would flock here from all across the land, desperate for some moment of release and the ability to process trauma and suffering. It was a wonderful, sacred place for those who were able to find healing. But for others…”

Tomita was close to the figures now. Their expressions were agonized. Eternal silent screams.

“But for others, this world became their prison. Within these caverns, the Void and Ether flowed together to create pocket realities that allowed them to escape their torment. Without the effects of time, water, and food were unnecessary. Thus they would never leave unless they wished.”

“Unfortunately, that escape became better than reality, and for many, they became so obsessed with their grief that they never left. Eventually, the frozen aspects of time caught up to them, and they themselves became locked here for eternity. Stuck grieving. Never resolving anything. Never getting better. Only suffering…”

Now Tomita felt the whisper of terror somewhat more succinctly as he observed the horrifying warnings before them. All around him was a museum of tragedy. A sanctuary of sorrow that had become a reliquary of lost, forgotten souls who had never overcome their grief.

It was strange, though- he did not feel a need to flee. The secret realm’s influence was already working.

“You have been here before?” Tomita asked, even though he knew the answer.

Izhari nodded.

“I was injured. The pirates had betrayed me. After killing them all, I was in hiding, trying to stop an infection. I needed to recover, but I could not rest in the wilds. So I made my way here after remembering it from a memory orb I touched long ago.”

“How long were you here?” Tomita asked.

Izhari’s mouth tensed and turned downward in somber reflection.

“Two years. I almost didn’t make it out. The grief and misery almost won. No matter how hard I wanted, I never found peace. But I at least found a way…” she said as silver tears returned.

“I think they finally won… I think they won…” she cried as she slumped forward in a broken heap.

Tomita rushed to his manager and extended his hand. Touching her back elicited no response either for him or her. There was no gentle flow of energy between them. All he felt was frayed, damp fabric and grains of sand that were caught in the weaving.

“Izhari… I…” Tomita tried to speak, but he did not know what to say this time.

“He’s going to win. Whatever he is planning… He is going to succeed. I will fail. And I am losing my resolve, because if I fail, it means I will die. It means YOU will die. And I do not want that…” she sobbed as her paw rested on his free hand.

Only now did Tomita understand that she was simultaneously carrying the concern for his well-being along with hers. Throughout their journey, his self-abandonment and dissociation had led him to generally not concern himself with his own being, instead only focusing on his manager. For him, her safety was most important.

But for her, she had been laboring all this time under the strain of being concerned for both of them.

The grief was building into uncertain panic, and Izhari turned to Tomita with hollowed eyes.

“I don’t want you to be hurt. I cannot do that to you… Even if you-”

She stopped herself in shame, as though she was almost about to reveal something hurtful or deeply secretive. Tomita couldn’t quite place what she was hinting at. It could have been a myriad of things. Moreover, his focus was on comforting her in the immediate moment. Disembodied remnants of a whispered scream drifted through the air, and Tomita recognized Izhari’s voice.

“Izhari, I will be safe. I will be with my manager. And she is the most incredible and most powerful mage I have ever known.”

His words almost reached her because she knew he was being sincere. It was not flattery of empty noise. Her familiar saw her for the true complexity and wounded spirit that she was, but also, he saw her strength. Even without the burden sharing, she knew that to be true. Still, it was not enough. Tiny paws tensed on Tomita’s hand as she let herself cry a little longer.

A foreign burning feeling slid across Tomita’s eyes like the tiniest blades cutting through flesh, and Tomita realized he himself was tearing up.

It was strange. He did not know exactly why, but it felt like it was more for Izhari than for himself. As he watched her, he reflected on the thousands of memories of torment, isolation, suffering, hardship, failure, disappointment, and abject pain that were flowing through her mind at any point. Rarely were they ever offset or overpowered by comfort or peace. Rarely did she escape their torment. Rarely did she have anything positive or soft to call upon.

Thinking of her immense suffering, Tomita brainstormed for any possible solution. What had he done in the days of his darkest struggles? What had his company done to improve morale? How had life been bearable for them? Maybe, in this cave where time did not exist, he could find some way to give Izhari time to breathe and heal. If days and weeks in here were only seconds in the real world, maybe they would have time even in the face of Mathael’s unstoppable onslaught. 

“You said this place created pocket realities for grieving?...” Tomita asked.

“Yes,” Izhari replied.

“Could it create pockets for healing? Beyond just grieving. Could it create pocket realities that would allow us moments of escape, or even happiness? Or, could you?”

Izhari hesitated.

“I don’t know if this place could. I might be able to, but it would be an immense drain to create something for any period of time…”

“Or would it? Because in reality, we could have days in the pocket reality, but in the real world, you would only have to hold the spell for a few seconds, it seems. But I don’t think you will do anything. It sounds like this place is the magic itself. All we need to do is try to focus on creating that reality.”

His logic was sound. The origin point of the spell would be in the real world. So Izhari would not be holding any sort of spell for more than a moment. As strange as it was, Izhari found comfort in his logic. And she had brought herself here to be allowed to break. Even if she broke, maybe she would be able to remake herself, with his help.

Still, the prospect failed to reach her. Despair’s roots had already taken hold, and his gentle voice failed to penetrate the soil of her spirit enough to rip them away. Thus, she shook her head ever so slightly, even though she appreciated the offer greatly.

“Tomita, I’m sorry, I do not think I will heal… I came here to recover my strength for the final fight, but I fear there has been too much damage to my soul. I don’t know if I can come back. And I don’t want to lead you to hope or believe that I will.”

Tomita wanted to speak, but she was spiraling.

“I was only ever a weapon. A monster, bred from incest and cast away by a wretched race. Sorrow and hate are all I have known. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I am. I’m sorry. I cannot be good, or holy. I told you the day we met, I am not holy… I’m sorry…” she sobbed as her face fell into her hands.

Then he was scooping her into his arms and holding her softly against his shoulder as he let her weep. Tired hands fell to her side and her sobs became screams as silver tears anointed his chest with the branding of tragedy.

“Izhari, I never wanted you to be holy. I just wanted you to be happy…” Tomita said as his own tears streaked his face.

Pulses of faint green ether streaked along the jagged layers of ancient stone all around them. Sobs sounded in the deep, but no echo returned. Silence greeted them and held dominion all around them, save for the occasional faint scream of sorrow or shout of rage that was from the two of them yet also was not.