Fair To Middlin’

Aniwye stands above me, bruised, bloodied, and beaten after killing a Virtue, but she is still smiling. Richard Lang's head stops rolling before entering the Gate Of Death as if touching upon a barrier of some kind. I attempt to move, to stand, but I can't.

I'm utterly exhausted, and so is Lennon. Both of us lie, breathing with wheezes as we desire air so desperately. My mother notices this and leans down, offering her hand. Still, I cannot take it. Then she laughs.

"You manage to wage such a war that the effects are echoing into a half-dozen regions, but you cannot stand after? Come. Let me help."

An enormous hand wraps around my arm before lifting me to my feet like some kid's doll. Then, Aniwye's fingernail taps against my head. A wave of Ether formed from thoughts weaves around my flesh and bones, delivering just enough strength for me to walk.

"That should help. It is hard to infuse Ether with Bestowing Strand if the recipient is also an Angel. Some kind of interference, I suppose. Should be enough to let you walk around, though."

I wiggle my arms and legs, feeling a profound sense of weakness and a debilitating slugishness. It's almost like I don't even have a Sigil anymore, but this is better than not being able to move. Actually, looking inward, I can feel Ether and a bits of a soul wrapped around my Sigil, blocking it off from affecting my body. In return, that Ether aids my body in movement where my Sigil and self are lacking. Thanking Aniwye, my eyes flitter over to Lennon, and Aniwye stops my forming thoughts with a shake of her head.

"Nope. My Bestowing Strand is not nearly detailed enough to push through a Dominion. Even a passive one. Now... if I had Soulful..."

Her words earn a curse from the swordless swordsman. He hardly spares us a glance before falling into a slumber.

"Whatever. Just leave me be. I'll heal. Probably."

Blood trails out of his wounds onto the marble, but I don't counter the man's self-confidence. It'd be disrespectful. Still... he does need help. That leg won't come back on its own. I reach into my pocket, finding the Philiam that Tomas gave me. None of us need it. Virgil and Bonfire are hurt, but... nothing permanent. I toss it down to him and walk away as the more important thing right now is the Pillars and 'Slumberers' that are here. I walk toward them with Aniwye by my side as I look up at her single eye, trusting Lennon's brutish frankness. Plus, he'll owe me a bit. Not a crazy amount, but enough to listen to me a little.

"I know you'll give that back to me later, Lennon. For now, we need to deal with these other Angels here first. Was Richard Lang really that strong to hold you back?"

Aniwye nods as we walk toward the unconscious Billy Grimes. Her gait is followed by a limp, noticeable because of her grand height. But the demon doesn't seem to really care, focusing on my words instead of her own pain.

"Yes. Yes, he was. I believe he was left behind by Desolation to protect Eli Weiss, or at the very least, the city. The man listened to none but the eleventh Prime. You are right. We should deal with these humans. Which would you like to kill?"

I slow her for a moment, placing a hand in front of her. I know that the action is physically useless, but she still stops to listen to me.

"Don't hurt that one, Kate, or the one with the Dominion, Lennon. My friends, too. Leave them be. As for the others, do you think we should kill them? Or should we let them live? This is the only chance we'll get to decide so easily. Will they be... more useful to humanity, alive or dead?"

I posit the question to Anwiye as I trust her intelligence far more than mine. All of these Angels were warring for domination and leadership, and while many of them are grand threats or directly oppositional to me, I don't know if they all should die.

After all, at the very least, Aniwye and I, Bonfire as well, are going into the Underworld. I highly doubt Earl is going to want to be left behind, too. Virgil, either. With all of us gone, there needs to be someone to protect all of the humans still here, right? We can't all leave, nor do I think Earl should come with us.

Aniwye nods slowly, looking out at the unconscious bodies of Virgil, Bonfire, Kate, Billy, Sylvia, and Parker. As she does so, I notice the disappearance of Clarence. My senses fly into alarm simply due to that piece of information. But before I can mention his vanishment or search for him, Tomas breaks through the gap in a wall, stumbling through.

His bloodied and frenzied eyes gaze across all of the forms before landing on Eli Weiss behind me. I can see all the pain, frustration, and hate coalesce into a single scream as he falls to his knees, bashing the marble with his fist.

"DAMMIT!"

His hand leaves spiderwebbing cracks along the floor that snake outward to the whole room. It's a miracle the floor is even together in some places still with all the damage. 

Aniwye finally delivers me an answer as I search for Clarence with my eyes and ears, leaving Tomas sobbing in his own arms. He's not crying of grief, but instead at the fact he wasn't able to help. I know the man well enough to see that truth. He wanted Eli dead just as much, if not more than me. It wasn't his adoptive father's last wish, but I also know how Marshall felt about it. He held respect for Eli but not how the man went about things. Tomas feels that Marshall's death was Weiss' fault.

I don't disagree.

"I think it may be best to kill the old ones. Old humans tend to be incredibly prideful and hard to reason with, for the most part. The Slick Slider and the Hungry Hog are more likely to be negotiated with. If you want as many to be protected as possible, though, you'll have to leave someone to watch them when we leave. Estatesmen aren't really known for being loyal to any but those with the same blood. You saw what happened to the Shaws, after all. The only reason it didn't happen to the Graves as well is because your family is too unpredictable and hard to pin down. Ironically, it's problematic to kill you all when there is just one or two. The Shaw's didn't have that advantage until no more could be made."

Her explanation is long, but it makes sense. I nod along with her as we approach Billy Grimes' form. I can't find Clarence, so I just assume that he's run away. After all, what else is there for him to do? His master is dead. I wish the Trio stayed so we could finish them off, too, but I'm sure I'll be seeing more of them soon. I simply know it.

I kneel down beside the old man, taking in the vast injuries but also the healed scars. The wrinkles on their own tell a story. I give the man a short nod, a piece of respect for his power and his drive.

He almost got me. 

I don't hold any animosity toward him, though. Not really. It's more so primed at his whole establishment. All the Estates. This single man? He wasn't the start. Not nearly. 

Aniwye raises an eyebrow as I pivot my hand up toward her. It's as if she doesn't know what I'm asking for.

"Knife? Anything to finish him off with? I can't really use Ether right now. Too close to my saturation."

My mother opens her mouth in understanding before flicking her hand, conjuring a construct of pinkish sharpness. A tiny dagger falls to my palm, only a few total inches in length. 

She explains simply while looking up toward the surface as a rumble reaches all the way down here.

"Living and Bestowing in sync allows anyone with the Ether types to conjure objects with Solid Ether. Mine is Glass. Another lesson for you. Careful, though. It is sharp."

Her warning is well-earned as I hear it physically cut the air merely by twisting my hand. Bestowing Strand, huh? She mentioned that earlier. It must be the Ether manipulation for Virtues. Same with Solid by the nature of how the manipulations progress.

I still haven't even figured out Plasmic Ether all the way, though, so I shouldn't worry about it. Instead, I bring the handleless blade to Billy's neck, slicing a smile into his throat without feeling a hint of joy. My lips are a firm line as I stand from the Power, turning to Tomas as the man gets his emotions under control.

"Did you kill Jarvis?"

Tomas shakes his head, pointing behind him.

"No. Jarvis ran away the moment that he sensed Weiss dying. Harvey's are never simple to kill, especially not Desolation's direct line. Sylvia isn't one, but Jarvis is."

In disappointment, I hang my head just as Aniwye's whole form erupts with Ether. She twists and darts back toward the Gate Of Death in a flurry of power. Air warps under her speed as I see a shadowy figure arched over Eli Weiss's body. With what has to be my third wind, I sprint with all the force I can muster in my feebleness, but it doesn't matter in the slightest. The man takes a vial from Weiss' belt and stabs it toward the dead man, but the syringe never reaches as Aniwye's outstretched hand holds it still it her mind.

Cursing, the figure twists sideways, his arm shackled by the demon ripped cleanly off. Then, with the swiftness of a shadow, he manages to tear open Weiss' skull and rip out a shimmering, fading light. It glimmers with the color of violet, that of an 8th Sigil. 

Clarence Love smiles as he proclaims to the world his loyalty.

"You may kill me, but he will live on! I cannot let him simply die like this! He is meant to be—"

The Silent Scorpion never gets to finish his words as his nose explodes in a fume of blood while a blade, dozens of feet long, made of the same pink Ether as my knife, enters the front of his throat and exits the back of it.

Aniwye continues to rush forward, breaking her construct with her mind as Clarence sputters in his death throes. He stumbles back and forth with that light in his hand, the Sigil. I half expect him to take it, to bear the weight and risk the trip straight to the Mother Below's control, but he doesn't.

The last standing Pillar, the unlikeliest one of them all, the assassin, tosses the light backward into the depths of the gate that opened to Weiss' blood. Strangling himself in his own blood, Clarence Love falls forward, only to meet my mother's cruel cleaver.

I watch another Pillar of humanity die as a head is sent tumbling in the air, the face upon it strained yet relieved. Then, it slams against the marble, slightly bouncing before rolling against the wall.

Still sprinting with all I have, Tomas catches up to me just as we meet Aniwye before the Gate Of Death. The only entrance to the Underworld that we have access to is wide open, the sightless and lightless tunnel illuminated by that 8th Sigil.

Clarence's body, however, rolls into that gate from the force of the cleaver, entering the land of the dead. Awestruck, I turn to Aniwye, but the moment a word leaves my mouth, she shushes me.

"What—"

"Hush, little one. Something is coming."

She confuses me only further, but as another second passes, I hear a sound. Then another. A rhythmic beating similar to that of footsteps, only there is three at a time. Something is coming from the Gate Of Death? How? How is that possible!?

No one can leave the Underworld without a Crossroad or Death's Lantern, right!? Or a heart? How is this... what?

A thousand colliding questions grind against each other as a figure finally appears. They are made of porcelain, or a material close to it, and resemble an old man's frame.

Tomas' throat growls out the name like that of a brutal wolf.

"Eli Weiss."

The name ends with a hiss that echoes into the tunnel. A slow bit of laughter rings out as the final Vessel of Eli Weiss kneels down to the Sigil that was ripped out of his skull. The segments of his brain that hold it together are gradually falling apart as he lifts it up to his eyes.

I want to leap through the boundary, run at him, and kill him, knowing that the Vessel, at most, has two Ails to defend himself. But I cannot. 

I have a heart. I cannot step through the gate. And if I wanted to use Death's Lantern to hide Blodwyn, I'd need to be able to move my Ether. But how I stand now, I'm worried to even sense my Ether, let alone drive it toward an Heirloom. 

Not to mention, I'd still have to fight him without any weapons, skills, and the physique of an average man. I'd get annihilated by him. Tomas rears back his hand, breaking off a piece of his fingernail to shoot at the Vessel, but the imprint of Eli's soul shakes his finger at Tomas like he's a kid.

"You best not do that, you hear? Death does not like the living interrupting her guests."

Guest? What does he mean by that? Oh, right.

No heart. The Vessel is not a living thing. Saying it's dead, though, is quite a stretch. I squint at Weiss, the Vessel hardly visible even under the light of the Sigil.

Aniwye holds Tomas down with her gigantic palm and addresses Weiss on her own.

"You are quite confident for a dead man, Weiss."

The perished man nods sagely, gazing down at his own body and then turning his attention to the light in his hands.

"I am no Graves, so I must have precautions for my entry into the Underworld. I better retrieve this before she calls it, eh? Wouldn't want to let a Reaper arrive."

I take the blue-lighted lantern from the pack at my hip and hold it up to Aniwye, but she pushes it back down with a single finger.

"No use, little one. I'm not built to fight him right now. None of us are. You'll have to wait for your rematch in the Underworld. Though... he may not live long enough for you to find him with such a fragile and flaky soul. If he takes that Sigil with what remains... He'll be dead very soon."

My teeth grind and gnash as I watch Eli Weiss push that light into his head despite her words. He doesn't even hesitate, accepting that looming fate. The porcelain skin buckles and cracks under the pressure, but it doesn't shatter. The 8th Sigil enters the dead man's head before settling. Violet-colored light still leaks out from the hole in my gaze, but I watch in amazement as violet chains wrap around the Vessel's form, returning Eli Weiss to his former power.

The Virtue lifts his hands to the air as he shudders, the whole Vessel shivering under the sensation that only he and I know. The sensation of a Sigil's light gracing your skin. It's... 

Otherworldly, cosmic, even, but the recently-killed-man recovers in only a moment. Then, he strides toward us, toward our side of the Gate Of Death. I backstep, thinking he will attack us again, but Weiss laughs with joy. And then he shakes his head with profound sadness.

"Thank you. Thank you all. Through this... death... I have grown. A thousand tiny coincidences and preparations all came together for the first-ever resurrection not made by a God. What shall we call it? Enkindling sounds proper. Though, even this isn't perfect. Still, I must thank you all. And you, my friend."

This thing of Heartless Porcelain kneels beside Clarence Love's body. Despite our animosity toward him, Aniwye, Tomas, and I stay silent.

The dead always deserve some respect.

"I will miss you, Clarence. You were one of the few—the only—I could call a friend. I will not let your death and your life go without meaning. I know he will not judge you evenly. But I will find him, my friend. And I will make him put you on that damned monument."

I furrow my brows in wonder as Weiss stabs his hand into Clarence's chest, the reflective fingers burrowing toward the man's liver. Then, in an instant, I watch Weiss shiver. His whole porcelain body undergoes a startling series of cracks that encompass his full form as his chains and the holes in his head glow a different color.

The shine with a midnight purple, a deep, virulent glow. That of the Dominions. That of the Demigods. 

A grin waxes on the Vessel's face as a frown comes to mine. He is even stronger now. Still, the man offers a warning as he smacks his porcelain lips together.

"Ah... I see. Gluskab cannot grab Demigods. I now understand why they had such issues rising further. There is no Lighthouse for the 9th Sigil. No well-lit path forward. Just shambling darkness. Wyatt. Lennon. You two are safe from her the moment you reach your Dominion. She cannot convert those so lightly. It must be why she has been asleep for so long. Or one of the reasons. I'm not sure. History has been clouded in so much mist due to the Shaw's ancestor fiddling with time."

I stay silent, boiling with indignation and rage, as Weiss turns around, the light still bursting from his many cracks. With each step away from us, however, it becomes harder to see him until the man is gone. 

Nevertheless, his voice echoes along the tunnel to us all. Then, he is gone, hidden by the darkness of the tunnel and protected by the very Death that deserves his soul. Something tells me that will not end well for him. Something tells me that bit about Reapers is not simply legend. A man like him would know whether or not such things are real. 

"Good luck, Graves. I know I shall see you soon. Those above, I leave to you. I cannot cross this step, nor would I wish to. Enough blood has been shed. After today, you and those around you decide their fates, no one else. Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint your father, either. We'll be waiting. It's going to take an army to kill them all—an army of our own Gods. I know we have had our... differences, but when the skies shatter, who else will you want by your side other than your worst enemy? Who else can you trust to keep up? I know you. You know me. There is a... balance between hate and respect. Vincent called it...ha... He said that it might as well be my name."

Enough blood has been shed? What a lie. He's only walking away because his goal has been finished. He's a Demigod now, forged without human flesh or any of its weaknesses. His final words hang in my skull as the figures behind us begin to shuffle into wakefulness. The first is, obviously, Virgil due to his Sigil, but Sylvia is not far behind. I shift to face them all while lost. I cannot merely pull myself to this scene as Eli's echoes clank around with my thoughts.

My father, huh?

Is Weiss working with him?

Why else would he word it like that?

I have so many questions. For now, though, I should deal with this. I can hunt the bastard down after I deal with all the living. Though... he might have a point. If I am to fight the Gods, would I rather do it with a man like Eli Weiss or Lennon Hull? Or Virgil Boone? Or anyone? 

Sure, I can put my life in Virgil's hands, but that comes with the inherent want for him to survive. Such a battle will have many, many deaths. Not to mention, Eli has proven himself to the very world as a force to be reckoned with. Nearly twenty Angels came to kill him this night, over that if I count Blodwyn and Mie. Three of which with the might of Virtues. No more than that, too.

Still... even dead, he's the one with the last laugh, literally walking away.

I hate that he might be right. But do I hate it enough to refuse it?

Haaah... I need to talk to Earl and Elizabeth. At the very least, Eli Weiss' death is certain. Either by the callous sands of time from his soul splitting, the pale scythe of Death, or by whatever creatures he will meet in the Underworld.