The Creators Ch. 19

"...like two lovers in the sun, shining from creation's birth, to hold a tether to the earth.' It is the story of the first children, and how their love burns eternal to shine upon the earth and carry God's souls to heaven."

"Um... yeah... so..." Justina shifted with even more anxiety, "...that's where things get a little... um... different."

"What do you mean?"

"Well Hatred's version went like this: 'A thousand years they are as one, like conjoined twins of the sun, and when they set with rattling breath, they're torn apart by the hands of death. For a time, they will divorce, but it can't be seen from the source, for blinding light is aptly named, but my fire is better tamed. At the dawn of the new era, the earth aligns with my caldera, and though my heat died long ago, my hatred still has room to grow.'"

I frowned. "That almost sounds like she's a Heat Bringer."

"That seemed to be the implication," Justina nodded, daring to flit her eyes to me before looking back at the ground. "And... uh... well... turns out Hatred was tethered to the astral sun, which... you know... shouldn't be possible. Anyway, that happened, and Diamond found out that Hatred's tether was broken by the blood corona sliver, which happens every thousand years, so... you get where that part of the poem comes from. That was what her poem was about. She was a Tethered One called 'Joy' before that."

"Diamond told me about Joy."

"Well, the way Hatred worded it, it sounded like she knew Corruption back before she was Sentient. You see, Sorrow and Greed both called Corruption 'the most ancient one,' but Hatred called her 'Black,' which to our minds seemed like Hatred was familiar with her in much more present terms. This was later confirmed when Diamond went into Corruption's realm, and—"

"Tell me everything about Corruption's realm!" I snapped.

Justina flinched but recovered admirably. "The door to Corruption's realm was through Hatred's center. It went into this weird subterranean sub-realm of guilt where Willowbud's first battle with Corruption took place. Above that realm, there were these... how did Diamond describe them to Angela... there were these large spires that connected the astral floor to the astral sky. Each of these spires went down to that realm of guilt, and that's where Diamond saw another memory. This one was like a fever dream. There was Joy as a child, and she was looking up at Diamond and singing a song for her parents, then she transformed into Hatred and started screaming 'you killed her' over and over again. The other memory was of an incubus standing in front of a mirror. He was watching faces go by it. One of the faces was Joy. He turned to Diamond, and then Diamond—or Corruption, I guess—killed the incubus."

"And then?" I asked urgently.

"Then nothing. Diamond went up through the spire to see what was above Corruption's realm, and when she came back, she was the Water Dancer."

"That's it? That's all you have to tell me?!"

She quailed at my outburst. "I said I had theories!" she exclaimed quickly. "But I know what you'll do if I tell them to you!"

"You know what I'll do if you don't!"

"I need guarantees, not threats!" She was cowering in front of me, but she held her own. "You're going to kill me; I know you are! This is my one chance at surviving! Swear on the Holy Mother!"

I glared at her. "I swear on the Holy Mother that I will not kill you, Justina Autumnsong."

"And Brandon!"

"No. Just you. Take this deal now, or I will find some other way to get the information I need out of you."

Justina shook furiously as she huddled in her arms. She stared at the floor in front of her with tears cascading down her cheeks. She would not look at me again, but she offered the smallest nod. "It was Angela's theory, actually," she sniffled. "Joy and Corruption had to have known the same Life Giver, for they were both preserved during the same era. We had reason to believe, given Corruption's obvious affinity for rock, that she was once an Earth Former. There are passages in the bible—the creation story where God makes the earth, the sun, and life—that resonate with the Creators. Given Corruption's childhood memories of Joy, and given the words Hatred used when describing the Holy Mother—and Joy in my holy mother's words—we came to the idea that Joy, Corruption, and the Life Giver were all born from the same woman. That the story of the Maternal Path was not the story of God, the creator of all things, but of God, the creator of... well, Creators."

CORRUPTION

I slammed my body against the iron door, but it would not budge. It was a quarter of the way open; the door was half corroded with orange rust, and the hinges screamed with tension as the force worked against me. I screamed back at it, driving with all my strength, shaping the world around me so that the hillsides pressed into my digging heels, driving me into the door like a nail. It didn't matter. The door crept open another inch, and the black memories within began to churn and bubble, taking the shapes of Diamond and Petranumen, of the Holy Mother and the Elementals.

"Stop her, Diamond!" I screamed. "Go there now! Kill Justina!"

BRANDON

I could no longer see Corruption's form inside Diamond. Though the Water Dancer's eyes were still black, it seemed that the parasite who infected her had more pressing matters than to manipulate the way she played checkers, but even though Corruption's attention wasn't fixated on this plane of existence, she was doing something. Diamond's brow was sweating, and her hands were trembling somewhat. She selected a piece from the board and moved it diagonally along the black squares.

"That's my piece you're moving," I said.

Diamond blinked, wiped the sweat from her brow, and moved the piece back.

"Pretty tense game, huh?" I mused.

"Not really," she mumbled, staring down the row of five kings that faced her three remaining pieces.

"You can always quit."

"I never quit," she said and shifted her piece forward.

I jumped it, landing just one diagonal square from the piece she was trying to king, killing any hope it had. "There's no shame in giving up when you're facing these kinds of odds."

"Will you shut up?" she hissed, mopping her brow some more.

"I thought you were supposed to be super smart?"

She glowered at me and moved her backmost piece toward the perimeter of the playing board.

JUSTINA

Julia's face was impassive. "You are saying that the Maternal Path is not referring to the sun, the earth, and life in its opening chapter; but to the Heat Bringer, the Earth Former, and the Life Giver."

"Our working theory was that Joy, Corruption, and the Life Giver were triplets. The Holy Mother was said to have been raped by Satan, but the biblical description of Satan matches perfectly with an incubus. Corruption has a memory of Joy as a child singing poetry to her parents, then Joy turns to Hatred and accuses Corruption of murdering a female victim. Corruption has a memory with her father—this incubus—staring at a mirror where faces pass by. Corruption commits patricide, and her father's face appears in the mirror. We believe—or Angela believed, anyway—that Corruption murdered her parents. She murdered the man you know as Satan and the woman you know as the Holy Mother." I twisted my fingers into knots of anxiety. "The... uh... the idea we had was that Corruption... she uh... she seems to have this weird attraction to Brandon. We think she might've been in a romantic relationship with her brother, the Life Giver, but we never learned anything about him. Our plan was for Diamond to find out his name, and use it to dislodge Corruption from Willowbud."

Julia tapped her thumbs against the bars contemplatively. "That doesn't make sense."

It makes a hell of a lot more sense than the bullshit you've been spewing, I thought, but said, "like I said, it's all just stupid theories."

"No, there may be validity to some of the things you say, but you are looking at it... wrong." She frowned, her eyes searching the ceiling of the room as if to find the answer there. "The Holy Mother is obviously not dead, for she is everlasting. But since you are a heretic, I will pose this question to you: why would there be bibles in the centers of Hatred and Wrath if the Holy Mother did not put them there? Clearly, she tried to pacify these demons."

"Yes, that makes perfect sense," I replied, trying my best to sound sincere.

Julia gave me a look that showed I wasn't very convincing, but she didn't press the issue. She continued tapping her thumbs together. "What was the relationship like between the seraph and... this man you assume is her father. This man you assume is Satan."

"Diamond described it as more than just paternal. Incest isn't exactly uncommon in the echelons of power."

"No, it's not." Julia chewed on her lips. "But there is no indication that this man is her father; only your conjecture. You are trying to force a narrative that you have no evidence of. In the first memory, Joy is a child singing to her parents. You assume that Corruption is the triplet sister bearing witness to this, but you say she was looking up at Diamond, which means in the memory, she was looking up at Corruption."

"Oh," I muttered. How the hell had I missed that?!

Julia was chewing her lip furiously now. "Justina, for a self-proclaimed scientist, you certainly made some egregious errors. You latched onto a theory and grasped at any evidence you could find to validate it. The use of a possessive pronoun is not evidence that Hatred was the daughter of God. She simply said, 'my holy mother.' Holiness isn't reserved for the Almighty alone." Julia pressed her head to the bars and shut her eyes tightly. "No wonder she didn't want me to know that name," she whispered. "She was in love with him."

"What?" I hissed. "Who?!"

She didn't answer me. She kept her eyes tightly shut and seemed to focus on her breathing. Her hands hung loosely from her shackles, but her fingers were balled into fists. The black patterns were thrumming, the energy nearly strobing from her flesh. They were... I squinted, unsure of my eyes... they were fading.

CORRUPTION

The hinges screeched as the door opened. My hands slipped against the corroded paneling, scraping the flash from my palms, leaving a bloody streak across the rusted orange surface. There were holes in the door now, jagged and oxidized, caked with the dead flesh that had been ripped from my forearms and fingers. The door was over halfway open now, and the sounds coming from within it were tortured and horrific, wails and shrieks of Diamond's darkness begging to come to the light. Tears poured down my cheeks as I raged against the interminable force opposing me, but all my efforts were in vain. Through my blurred vision, I could see the patterns on my arms and hands dimming by the second; I could see the flesh sagging from my wrists, my fingers knotting and twisting with arthritis, my veins bulging and bursting to leave deep purple contusions below my thinning skin.

"Diamond!" I bawled. "Mother, help me!"

DIAMOND

My head felt like it was being slowly sawed open. Corruption grated against my skull with anxiety, serrating into my brain with a manic need to run over to Mom. I wouldn't do it. Justina Autumnsong hardly posed any danger to a cat, much less the god of fire. I mopped the sweat from my brow and moved one of my two remaining checkers pieces. Brandon moved his in opposition, one move away from trapping it. The other piece I had was also boxed in. No matter what I did, I was two moves from losing.

"I suppose not moving at all is one way to force a draw," Brandon sneered. He still somehow managed to be a prick even as he wasted away like a cancer patient. I admired him for it.

"Just give me a second," I grumbled. I ducked underneath the tent, poked my head from the skirt, and looked over at Tera's old wagon. Mom was sitting in her cage, having a little chat with Justina. She wasn't choking on a carrot, or hanging herself from the ceiling, or even picking at a hangnail. She was just fricken talking!

"Shut the heck up!" I snarled and slid back into the tent.

Brandon looked at me bemusedly. "I didn't say anything."

"Not you," I growled, and knocked on my head, "her! She's trying to screw up my checkers game! I would've kicked your butt if it weren't for her!"

"Excuses, excuses," Brandon chuckled. He paused and looked up at me. "What do you mean she's screwing up your game?"

"She's just..." I kneaded my temples, "...she's just being a real butthead right now."

Brandon reached across the gameboard and clasped my hand. His grip was so weak. "Keep fighting. Give her hell."

"You don't get to tell me what to do either!" I snapped.

He smiled feebly. "Then you should probably just give up and be her little bitch."

"Frick you!" I growled and ripped my hand away. I glared at him from across the board and slid my piece into an empty square. "Your move, dead man."

JULIA

I stared at the floor in front of me and ruminated on the revelations. Angels weren't infallible; there were stories in the Maternal Bible about how the seraphim had quarreled amongst themselves, some even going so far as to question the Holy Mother's will, but I had never read a story of one who outright betrayed God. I took a slow, deep breath. Who was I bound to? What was I bound to? The desert wind howled outside, but the shrill tenor of Helga's screams was not carried by them. I was glad; they sickened me. I opened my eyes and looked at my hands. The patterns on my flesh were lighter than they'd been before.

"What's happening to you?" Justina hissed.

I looked up at her and said one word. "Vitanimus."

"What?"

"That is the name of the seraph's lover; her Life Giver, her demon. His name was Vitanimus."

The color drained from her face. "How do you know that? Where is that written in the Maternal Bible?"

"It isn't," I muttered, and held up my hand, "but it is obvious that it is true. Diamond did not see Satan in her visions. She saw Vitanimus, the Life Giver, the demon. Only God should have the power to create life, Justina; that is why Brandon must die. Perhaps he is not the champion of Satan, but he is a demon. A very dangerous kind of demon. The kind that can seduce angels with his miracles. Is it any wonder that she wants me to kill Hatred? Why would she ever think that her bastard spawn would become anything but an abomination?"

"Julia," Justina whispered, daring to crawl toward me until she was nearly in my grasp, "what are you talking about? What do you know?!"

"The story you have told me has three actors: the seraph, Joy, and the incubus," I said. "You have fabricated a story of five actors to justify your disdain for the truth, but the Holy Mother and Satan are not part of this story. There is an angel; you call her Corruption. There is a demon; his name is Vitanimus. There is a child; her name is Joy. The angel was an Earth Former you say, and I can accept that; in fact, I know it to be certain now."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?!" Justina hissed, clutching the bars of my cage.

I held out my hand before her. "What do you see?"

"Diamond's patterns."

I smiled. "These aren't Diamond's patterns, Justina. I could never love my daughter in the way that is required for souls to be knotted. But I loved her, the black angel, the one who took my pain away."

Justina's jaw dropped.

I actually laughed. It was funny in a cosmic sense. "What happens when an angel and a devil birth a child?" I whispered.

"The Destroyer," Justina whispered back, goosebumps crawling across her flesh. "Corruption isn't a Sentient, is she?"

"No," I said. "Now, what happens when an angel and the Destroyer bind their souls?"

Justina gulped. "The Water Dancer."

CORRUPTION

I was withered to nothing. The hair had fallen from my head, the flesh hung from my bones, and the patterns that once illuminated me were so dim that I could barely see them. I pawed feebly at the door. It was hardly a door at all now; simply a rusted hole that bore all within it. The hinges were almost all the way open, and their metal was so corroded that the door hung from them by the barest strands of iron. Xaya stood beside me, cocking her head and examining me curiously. Her posture was no longer that of the stalking predator, but the stiff upright stature of the academic. Her eyes were nearly void of my blackness, and they were cast with a scrutinizing intelligence that made me feel like a worm at her feet.

"Help me," I croaked up at her.

She opened her mouth, and uttered something that was almost a word.

BRANDON

Diamond kept her eyes fixed on the gameboard, and I tried to keep mine off hers. I dared not break her concentration. It was good that my hands were palsying with decay, for it hid the gradual winding of my nerves. I was so exhausted that I saw hallucinations every time I blinked, but there was no doubt any longer that Diamond's sclera were lightening. And so I played checkers with her, letting her progress across the board without much resistance, but not letting her win. I drew out the game, keeping her eyes on the pieces, keeping her focus singular. She no longer mopped her brow, nor did she twitch with agitation. She seemed to be in a trance state and simply moved automatically without hesitation. It wasn't long before I realized she was beating me handily, and that all my efforts to extend the game had been for naught.

"King me," she said emotionlessly.

I stacked her piece, then moved mine to her side of the board. "King me," I replied.

She purposefully picked up a piece, seeming to have to plan the action out for herself. She watched her own hand as if she didn't recognize it, then stacked my piece. "Petranumen," she whispered.

"What?"

She furrowed her brow. "It's a name. I don't know whose name it is, but I remember it."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's your turn."

She frowned. "New Earth. That's what that name means in the old tongue. Whose name is it?"

"Sounds kind of like a word your Mom said to me. Vitaminerous or something like that."

"Vitanimus. Moving Life." She chewed her lip. "I remember that name too. Petranumen. Vitanimus. Who are they?"

"It's your move, Diamond."

She nodded and triple-jumped me.

JUSTINA

Julia's eyes were grey. The patterns on her flesh had dimmed nearly to the beige color beneath them. She sat in her cage and stared at her shackled hands as if they didn't belong to her.

"What's happening to you?" I whispered.

She shook her head slowly, and a tear dropped down her apple cheek. "Love built on a lie is no love at all. I am bound to an angel who consorted with devils. I am bound to a traitor of the Holy Mother."

For minutes, we sat in silence. I waited for anything to happen, but the regression of her patterns had ceased. They stayed imprinted upon her body like faded tattoos, not darkening, but not lightening either. I tried to keep my mind calm and analytical despite the frantic hope that threatened to steal my faculties, despite the horror of my mother's head staring down at me from the top shelf. Something had happened; it wasn't Diamond who had caused it, for astral infection could not be cured even if the source was removed. The change that had occurred here had come as a result of the revelations we'd played out, as if the information itself was curing Julia. No, not curing her; hurting Corruption. Perhaps she was not a Sentient, but she was still an astral creature, vulnerable to ideas like I was vulnerable to flame.

"There is more to this truth, Sister Julia," I whispered, and crawled over to her. I dared to take her hands in mine, and she clasped them gently. "She is hiding something else from you; what is it?"