No Longer Worthy

Gasps erupted across the deck, but Theo remained silent. He couldn't think through the buzzing in his head.

Zenith's creator. Something Theo had never thought much about, and why should he? He'd always assumed Zenith's creator was long out of the picture, maybe even since before the Rending. Yet now he was standing here in the flesh and blood.

Without thinking, Theo reached for Zenith's Levia. But the light felt so far away, like a star in another galaxy. From it, Theo couldn't sense any kind of emotion.

A dim terror spiraled inside him. Something, he had to do something, but what?

"Zenith...is your creation?" Darian's voice, sharp with disbelief, echoed in Theo's ears. 

"Why, of course." The seraphim – Cyrias – didn't look at her. Instead, he kept gazing at Zenith as if he was the only thing to exist. "Do you know how long I've spent looking for you? My first knight, my proudest creation. After I lost you, I never stopped searching. But it's a large world, and I am just one man. Only now has your Levia become strong enough for me to sense."

Zenith's lips moved, but he couldn't get out any words. His skin was deathly pale, almost as white as Cyrias' wings.

"Now that you've found him, what will you do?" Darian said, rapier still raised.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cyrias still didn't look away from Zenith. "I've come to take you home, Sir Zenith."

The words lanced through Theo's gut. Finally, he could move again. He lurched forward, but the distance between him and Zenith gaped like a canyon. 

And Darian reacted first. "What do you mean? I already said Sir Zenith is in my service!"

"Oh?" Cyrias smiled, though it held a sharp edge. "Shouldn't it be your decision?" He directed this at Zenith, who started.

"Ah...I...." It was the first time Theo had heard Zenith speak since their argument, and he couldn't sound more different – hoarse and weak, almost afraid. "I...it is as my liege says. I...am sworn to her."

Cyrias' smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Is that so?"

Abruptly, he spun toward Darian. "I know all about you, Prince Darian. How you claim to be a seraphim...the heir to Miria, even." 

His hand shot out, fingers closing around her shoulder. Darian lurched, but couldn't shake him off. As he leaned down to meet her glare, it only emphasized the size difference between them. Not just because of his height, but the wings looming behind his back.

"Wonder what your wings look like?" he said, almost offhandedly.

"I haven't come into my power yet," Darian sputtered. Theo had never seen her so caught off guard. 

Cyrias laughed, dry and airy. "A seraphim who needs to come into their power, hm? First I've ever heard of it. Well, you seem to be having fun on your little adventure."

Guntar clucked indignantly, and Darian wasn't much better. As she squirmed, she snarled, "I'm not doing this for fun."

"Oh, yes." Another airy laugh. "You claim you'll, what, save Tielos from the Infernal Legion? And then take the throne of Miria itself? It's good to dream big, I suppose."

Darian clenched her hands into trembling fists. "I'm fighting to make their lives better. Which is more than can be said for you. If you knew all along, why haven't you done anything about the Infernal Legion?

"Hm? Are you saying you wanted seraphic help?" Cyrias said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Darian seethed. "I'm just saying I'm at least doing something – more than you are."

"Doing something. Ri-i-i-ight." Cyrias finally let go of her, giving her a little push that sent her stumbling. Guntar ran up to catch her, which sent a strange pang through Theo.

Because Zenith would have normally done it instead, he realized. Ice gathering in the pit of his stomach, he lifted his gaze toward the knight. Zenith was still standing in place, eyes riveted on Cyrias.

"Doing something. I suppose that's what you call allying with demons?" the seraphim drawled, sweeping his arm at – Theo's stomach flipped – Victor and Mirage.

Victor moved in front of Mirage, extending a protective arm, but Cyrias had already turned back to Darian. "You claim to be fighting the Infernal Legion, but you'll accept their members into your crew. Are you that short on manpower? Or is this what's called fighting fire with fire?"

"I have my reasons!" Darian shouted back, shrill and red-faced. "What right do you have to lecture me?"

"Prince Darian, you don't seem to know much about being a seraphim," Cyrias said archly. "Well, I'm going to give you a little lesson. First, we don't interfere because we believe in the strength of the wasteland dwellers. If we jumped in at every setback, they would never grow."

"That's – " Darian sputtered, but Cyrias kept talking. 

"Second, a true seraphim wouldn't dream of allying with demons. Not when we know how conniving they are. Something even you've got experience with, right?"

He jerked his head at Victor and Mirage. Victor's hand squeezed the pouch by his side until his knuckles turned white. His armor crystal must be inside, though he had yet to put it on.

Darian stiffened too, all the color draining from her face. "How – how do you – "

"Demons are our enemy." Cyrias lifted his chin to stare her down. "They have been ever since the Rending. You want to make Tielos better? Who do you think reduced it to this state in the first place?"

Light sparked inside Theo, stark and severe. It was the first time he'd felt Zenith's Levia since Cyrias' arrival.

For her part, Darian bit her lip. "It's not...it's not like these two are personally responsible for the Rending."

Cyrias laughed again, this time a sharp bark. "Is that your resolve, prince? You won't get anything done that way. And this is the liege you serve?"

He raised his voice, directing this at Zenith. Zenith snapped his head up, revealing eyes wide and quivering with a terror unlike anything Theo had ever seen from him.

His gut clenching, Theo stepped toward Zenith. But before he could get there, Zenith swallowed and stiffened his shoulders. "I...swore a vow."

"A vow goes both ways. Can you really say she has upheld her end?"

Zenith lowered his head again, hair falling in a curtain over his face. A horrible sense of foreboding welled within Theo, and he stumbled faster, fighting stiff muscles with every step.

"Sir Zenith!" Darian shouted. "Don't listen to his nonsense!"

Theo pushed himself harder, but he could barely breathe through the tension gripping the air. Still, he had to try – but he froze when Zenith's Levia flared. 

This wasn't the light Theo knew, stark but gentle at the same time. It was cold as crystal. Completely lifeless.

Slowly, Zenith lifted his head. He met Cyrias' gaze. Then he took a step forward.

The clang of metal on metal echoed across the deck. It was the only sound to be heard, silencing even Theo's heartbeat.

"Sir Zenith!" Darian's voice rose so high it almost cracked. "What are you doing?"

"That's right." Calm in contrast, Cyrias spread his arms.  "Let's go home, Sir Zenith."

"Stop right there!" Darian yelled. "That's an order!"

Zenith didn't move. For a moment that stretched into eternity, Theo watched his cape and hair billow in the wind. Despite how bright his Levia burned, he had never felt more distant.

Then Zenith spoke, his voice quiet but filling every empty space in the air.

"Yes...as your knight, I must obey your orders. After all, I swore to serve a worthy liege."

Inch by inch, he lifted his foot – before planting it firmly in front of him.

"But you...you are no longer worthy."

He took another step, then another, each more confident than the last.

"Sir Zenith!" Darian screamed. "Are you seriously going to believe this seraphim you met five minutes ago over me? And you call yourself a knight? Come back this instant!"

Her shouts washed over Theo's ears, meaning nothing. He only saw Zenith's back growing ever smaller.

If – if he didn't do anything – 

Horror jolted through his body, giving him the strength to move again. He ran until Zenith's azure cape filled his vision, then seized it in his fists. "Zenith, wait!"

He'd apologize for their fight, for his immature attitude. He'd do his best as Zenith's wizard and fulfill his duty properly. Anything, anything –

When Zenith whirled around, Theo's heart stopped dead. He had never seen his knight's eyes like this, devoid of all emotion except a vague hint of disgust.

"You...a wizard like you, with such halfhearted resolve...I can serve you no longer either."

The words cut Theo's heart into pieces. His hands slipped away from the cape, and Zenith marched forward as if he had never been interrupted.

Wild, unthinking, Theo grabbed his arm. "Zenith, please! You don't know what you're – "

"I do know. Do not presume for me."

With that, Zenith gave his arm a rough shake. Theo let go, stumbling and landing on his rear. Numb with shock, he could only watch as Zenith accepted the hand Cyrias offered.

"No," he gasped when their fingers twined together. "No!" Louder, more desperate, when Cyrias took off with a tremendous flap of his wings. Zenith dangled from his grip, swaying in the wind, but Cyrias didn't seem burdened by his weight at all.

As the seraphim soared toward his craft, Theo clambered to his feet. He ran as fast as he could, arms outstretched, even though he knew he'd never be able to catch up.

By the time he slammed into the bow railing, Cyrias and Zenith were mere dots in front of the craft's windows. Blindly, Theo tried climbing over the railing, only for strong arms to pull him back.

Victor, probably, but Theo didn't care. He struggled with all his might, clawing and thrashing, tears fracturing his vision into glittering shards.

Yet he never stopped screaming Zenith's name. Even as the clouds rushed back in, covering Cyrias' craft. Even when something shattered in his chest and every trace of white light fled, leaving behind an aching void.

It was all he had left. The only thing he could do.