IRON GOD | 2: Empyrean

[15] Xigon: Impatience

A night to remember was one way of putting it.

In stark contrast to the somnolence that had become his new constant, Xigon was so wide awake he couldn't sit still. He almost felt like his younger self, doomed yet invincible, like glass. Glass was fragile, yes – but each time it broke, it grew sharper, deadlier. He got up from his wheelchair and stumbled to grab his crutches. He hooked them around his forearms and left his study for the first time in what seemed like years.

He labored his way up the stairs he so terribly hated. It still hurt, but nowhere near as much as it had for the past many centuries. Xigon made his way to Qila's door and gave three hard knocks.

Qila's voice greeted him calmly from the other side. "Do you want to see my face, or just talk?"

Xigon faltered, feeling a little lightheaded all of a sudden.

"Should I open the door?" she rephrased.

Xigon lifted his goggles to rub his eyes. "No." He blinked a few times. "I might harm you if you do."

"Well then, I appreciate your honesty." The old woman's voice held a tone he couldn't decipher. That alarmed him. "What is it you need?"

"When the young ones get back, I'm going to tell them the truth." Xigon spoke with cold certainty. "I have to. I owe them that much."

"And what is the truth?" Qila asked.

"Qila." His voice cracked. He felt like a child at her side again, bare and vulnerable. "Kaosaan is talking to me again."

He heard Qila shoot up from her chair. "What? But I thought..."

"That was why I was afraid to let you in." He confessed the unspeakable in a rush. "That's why I had Channei take Respite from our hands. I was afraid you would..."

"Put you down?" Qila finished his sentence. "Xigon, I would never."

"Even if I became a threat?" he pressed.

She hummed. "You've always been a threat. And I don't think I could kill you, in any case."

He leaned against the closed door. "Are you proud of me?"

Qila paused. A long silence passed before she spoke again. "What?"

"Kaosaan said she's proud of me." He spilled the information with little regard for himself. "She said I stole something and she's proud of me."

"You're not acting like yourself, Xigon." Qila's voice grew louder as she came closer to the door. "You're probably not accustomed to Ami's new formulation. I think you're disinhibited and that you need some time to calm down."

Xigon's fingers trembled around his crutch handles. In a stiff motion, he backed away from Qila's door.

"Where are you headed now?" she asked.

"Ghost Garden," he answered.

He heard Qila take a deep breath. "Tell Kiiri I love her."

Xigon nodded and turned to leave.

One shaky step at a time, he made his way out of the compound's cold stone walls and into the colder night. Frost clung to the lenses of his goggles. The dark mountainside screamed and howled with gusts of wind. It hardly fazed him. He'd weathered many storms on this path and never strayed, never been deterred. He persisted, and that was how it always was.

He came to an alcove sheltered from the wind, with relatively flat ground overlooking a deep jagged valley. He walked among stones carved with blessings. Long-gone warriors' masks watched him as if in judgment. He came to a mask resembling a black rabbit's face and laid his hand on its forehead. "We love you, Kiiri." He bowed his head. Then he looked around at the other empty faces. "All of you."