To him, it only mattered if he made it to the river. To him, it only mattered if he could make it to the river. Nothing else did. He pressed on faster, and faster. His body was burning… burning like white hot fire. His lungs… they were on fire, and his heart a jackrabbit running for its life. But he wouldn’t stop.
Forever.
He pressed, faster, harder, not caring to dodge the branches attacking his porcelain like face. Nor did he care about the animals attacking his heels. That river only mattered. He jumped over a log, wishing he could go faster. He shut his eyes. The river. The river.
Forever… what is forever?
His breath was coming faster, he moved slower and slower. His body was loosing its energy. He shook his head. No! He refused to let it happen. No! They would dare hurt him. They wouldn’t hurt his friend. He shook his head and tripped over a log.
Forever… what is it?
He shook his head, his fist beating down on the ground. He didn’t care that blood was pooling around him. He could care less about the pain in his side. He didn’t care; he didn’t even notice how weak he was becoming.
Is it Immortality?
He stood up shakily, his knees banging together, but that didn’t mater. Nothing mattered, nothing at all. He wiped his face, smearing dirt and blood together. He shook, his body feeling cold. But how could he even care about how he felt? It wouldn’t be right! No. He had to continue through that river.
Is it the bravery of men?
He took off running, now, filled with more energy. He could hear the flapping of wings. He could hear the pounding of his own footsteps, echoing in the trees around him. He could even hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He could hear its constant pounding, the comforting pounding that gave him comfort.
Is it the history of men?
His breath was becoming shallow, the blood making his clothing stain red. But to him, it didn’t matter. After all, what was he without his master? He didn’t know as he went faster, hoping he wouldn’t be late. He prayed he wouldn’t be late.
Is it something you steal?
He didn’t know anymore, he was… well, he was empty. He didn’t know. He just didn’t know what to do. He opened his mouth, and let a scream echo into the dark night sky. He let the people know that he was coming. He would let out another, but it didn’t matter.
Is it… is it… something worth…dying for?
He saw the clearing, near the river. He was very close. But he saw three black globs. Who could they be? He wiped his eyes, wanting to know. He hoped that he wasn’t in the three globs. He hoped he was the man standing up, holding that… no…
Is it something you kill for?
He noticed the figure disappearing, and noticed a similar hand. He rolled the body on to its back. He tried to shake the body wake.
“Master?”
It did not respond.
Something you hurt others for?
So, he shook the body harder, as hard as he could, wait for the man on the ground, to yell, shout and beat him.
“Master?”
Forever… is it immortality?
The body still did not respond. He moved the man’s bangs to see the eyes, they were open. They were empty… they were… one was missing. He tried to shake his master awake.
“Master?!”
Is it the same thing?
This time he rocked the body, holding back tears. But the man did not respond. No. It couldn’t be happening. No! He refused to let it happen. He started to pound the body with his fist.
Could leave me behind for this immortality?
“WAKE UP! C’MON IT ISN’T FUNNY ANYMORE!” he cried, but the body still, didn’t respond. He looked at the eye, and finally saw the empty eye socket next to it. He realized and remembered a conversation he once had with the man.
For this… forever?
xoxoxo
“Brat, quit touching that!” his master scowled. He retracted his hand from the dolls, his eyes were wide, but there was hopefulness in them. He looked at his master.
“This art…what is it?”
“It’s the art of immortality.”
“Immortality… what is it?”
“Brat, stop asking stupid questions,” the reply came as he saw his master making another doll.
“I think it’s a beautiful art, why do you do it?” he had asked, tilting his head, resulting in him, loosing complete balance over his body.
“Because, it’s the best art.”
“But… every time you do it… you loose a piece of yourself?”
“It’s a sacrifice, but it’s for the greater good.”
“Oh… okay.”
xoxoxo
He wiped his eyes, cradling his master, he touched his face. He then glared at him, his eyes, furious, unforgiving. He picked up the body and carried it bridal style, and walked through the river. Which tried to keep him from passing her water self.
What is immortality… art?
Then he stopped, as though something invisible was blocking him. He reached his hand out, as if he could just move through it. He stood his ground and set the body down. He didn’t want his master to be lost. He stared at the nothingness.
Would you cry if you didn’t get it?
He then looked up and saw that twilight was upon them. He looked up and spread his arms wide, as though he was letting something welcoming him. “To the sky, I give my soul. So I can guide the body before me to a safe place. In return, my soul will burn eternal. To the ground, I give my body, so this body is forever preserved. In return, I let my body rot. This is all I ask!”
What is this forever?
He looked down at the body, and cradled it once more and strange smile on his lips. He let his tears fall, all the tears that that man never let him shed. He once again set the body down again, looking at the empty eye socket, he touched his left eye. It would be simple and quick.
Is it something you know?
He looked once more at the man, and plunged his fingers inside, and put it in the man’s eye socket. After all, what good would it do, if his master looked ugly in his immortality? He looked at the barrier as it opened; telling him it was time to pay the toll.
Is it something… something like love?
He touched the face, and knew it was the last time he would ever see the man again. He cried once again, and looked. The underworld was calling him. He saw the hounds, his companions. He cried harder.
But why forever?
He turned back once more, looking at the fallen master; a cruel smile came onto his face. He bent down once more, looking straight into the dead man’s eyes. Straight into his own hell that awaited him. “Orden. I… forgive me for lying that day.”
Immortality is a beautiful art.
“Remember when we were talking about art? I don’t think it’s beautiful,” he said. “I never did like art. I hated art… I hated it so much. Because it always fades away. Is that what immortality is, Orden? Is that what it is?!” He asked the dead body.
Forever is… a disgusting art.
“I hate this dreadful art, Orden. Please forgive me. Immortality is… is… it’s not worth dying for. But… please… don’t go after it,” he cried and stood up, looking at the underworld. The moment he was ready, they would take him, and leave three boxes, and they would leave an unnamed legend of how they were created. After all, this magic was simply power. But this was his power. His devotion for his master and… how much he really cared for his master.
Forever…
“My name is Confessor. And I am ready,” He whispered, as he let the body alone. He looked down at the wizard and wiped his eyes. He wouldn’t ever forget his master and would always make sure that he would live forever, and protect him with all of his might. He then started to walk forward on the snow and once again he fell down. Though this time he was unable to get up.
Immortality…
He tried as he might but the snow was bringing him down. The snow… that came from no where… no… he knew where the snow came from, it was the underworld, and he looked around, nothing but wooden crosses of where forsaken souls lay. He tried once more to get up but failed. He finally gave up; after all, his whole body was numb. And as his body started to fade, his last thoughts were on Orden.
I don’t want either.
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