Prisoners of Prophecy

Chapter 38

Melany - Thursday, July 25th, 2019; 9:17pm

I have spent my night trying to read and not being able to. I couldn't concentrate on anything but my steadily growing unease.
Tonight, Xantara would meet a God that had chosen her, blessed her with abilities that no one else would ever come close to even understanding, much less controlling. She was the last of us to go to the house alone, to see what would become of her. She had been specifically chosen to do so. I was terribly worried about her. I could remember very clearly how weak, confused and overwhelmed I had been after meeting Llanthu. It felt like a dream now, but in the moment I felt sure that I was dying. Would she be okay, or would she be left off worse than I had been? Would she have the strength to make it out?
The letters scattered and jumbled themselves together on the pages of the book I held in my hand. I closed my eyes tight, like that would maybe fix my sight.
The image of Xantara's face flooded my mind. She had looked so afraid this morning. She had hardly said anything at all before going back to her room to get ready for school. I had been relieved, even happy, waking up next to her, until I had seen her expression. I set the book down on the bed. My head ached from trying to focus on it for hours and not getting anywhere. I would find no escape in this story, no matter how much I needed it.
     I could hardly remember how my new friends had been when I had first met them, before they knew who I was to them. Before we had all learned what we were here for. We only spoke when we needed to, drifting around ShadowWood like lost souls, ghosts with no destination. Everyone was falling into their own lonely headspaces when we should have been there for each other more than ever. How could only a couple weeks change so much for so many people?
     Losing any of them to this insane situation would be detrimental to our future. But the thought of losing Xantara hurt me the most. Though I could barely remember once knowing her, I couldn't bear her leaving as she once had. What if I forgot her again?
     My worry for Xantara pushed away everything else, made it fade into something momentarily unimportant.
     The God that had provided me with inhuman powers I did not even know how to use yet was the same God who tended to the dead. He surely had some purpose for me that would seem difficult, impossible, for me to complete. Me and the five other people I had met here were divine descendants of the creators of the entire universe. I was living in a fairy tale.
     But all of that madness paled in comparison to my concern for Xantara's safety. Right now, I had no care for my future, if I could not be sure that I saw her in it. I knew, deep down in my lost memories, that she had once been my best friend in a time of my life so dark that my body and mind rejected the idea of even imagining it. And now I desperately needed her presence in this darkness as well.
     I got to my feet so suddenly that my legs almost gave out beneath me. I scrambled to the door that would lead me out into the hallway, feet sliding across the slick linoleum floor.  I didn't bother to close it behind me, I only ran to the exit, shoved open the heavy door with my shoulder, and emerged outside.
     I crashed into what felt like a brick wall. The breath was knocked out of me. My muscles tended, preparing to fall...
     Yet I didn't.
Arms wrapped around me, holding me up. I instantly felt safe within this person's warm embrace, like nothing else could touch me. I hugged them back tightly, like they were the only thing keeping me from tumbling over the edge of a precipice into some hellish eternity.
They pried me away from them gently. A wave of relief crashed over me when I recognized the person now holding me at arms length. It was Xantara.
Through narrowed eyes, she looked me up and down. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked. There was a million emotions on her face that I could not define.
I glanced down at myself, following her concerned gaze, and immediately felt my face flush with the heat of embarrassment. In my hurry to find her, I had rushed out of my room wearing only what I usually put on before bed - a black sports bra and a pair of basketball shirts. I hadn't even bothered putting on shoes. The night air was cool on my exposed skin, which felt like it was burning from the aftermath of Xantara's stare.
"I, uh... I was actually, um..." I stumbled over my words, blushing more furiously now. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Xantara's eyes did not again leave my own as she waited for me to conjure some sort of sentence, and for that I was grateful. "I was actually about to go looking for you," I said weakly.
     Something in her expression changed. Something faded. Or maybe something new appeared, I could not tell. The air around us seemed to get heavy, grow darker. The hand she had placed on my shoulder slid down my bare arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake, and grabbed mine. "Well, I'm here now. I'm okay." She took a deep breath. "Let's go to your room. We can talk about it in there."
     I let her drag me back inside, down the hall and to my room. I suddenly felt as if I had fallen somewhere deep into myself, where my thoughts became a horrible reality. Instead of being comforted by the sight of Xantara in one piece, my worry for her only deepened. Something had happened to her at that house, something that hadn't happened to the rest of us. I could see it in her obsidian eyes, feel it in the aura that surrounded her. It was like electricity, like the warning before a bad storm. We had both stopped once we stepped into my room and she had shut the door behind us. We now stood facing each other, her hand still tightly holding onto my own. I could sense how tense her entire body was, as if she were prepared to either flee or fight. I could see fear in her expression, and my heart ached with sympathy for her. But what was worse was the countless other things I could tell was on her mind, things I couldn't even come close to comprehending. I knew there was something much worse than fear there. Her chest rose and fell with each quick, ragged breath.
     We only could have stared at each other for a few minutes, but it seemed to stretch out a lifetime. She was suddenly staring at me as if I were a stranger who had unknown and possibly ill intentions for her. She was swallowing hard, her eyes bloodshot. It seemed to me that she was holding back tears.
     It was my turn to guide her. I led her down the hall, to the bedroom. She followed me slowly, like a mindless zombie.
     Once we were in my room, I turned to face her again. "Come on, sit down," I said gently. "Tell me what's wr-" My breath caught in my throat, my words failing me.
I saw the moment that she broke, unable to contain all those emotions. Whatever she had experienced down in that basement tumbled down upon her, finally shattering that tough facade she had barely held onto. Her shoulders sagged. She began to cry. I did the only thing that I could think of to do, something I was almost positive she had done for me as well. I grabbed her, pulled her into bed with me. She went willingly enough, clinging to me like I would soon disappear forever. She lay her head on my chest and sobbed violently. I draped an arm around her shoulder and ran my fingers through her thick black hair. Pain enveloped me. I wasn't sure if it was my own or if somehow I was receiving hers, soaking it up from every place our bodies touched. It appeared the tables had turned - my protector, when I was a child, had now come to me needing my protection. To see someone I remember being so strong become so weak made me feel hopeless. The world felt as if it may soon crumble around us.
     Slowly, her weeping turned to muffled sniffling. I couldn't tell how much time had passed, the two of us lying together, entwined with one another. I only knew I could feel her tears drying against my skin. I stayed silent, not sure what to say, sort of afraid to say anything at all. I couldn't ever recall being so needed before, but I could tell now how desperately she did - her head buried in the crook of my neck and her hand gripping my shoulder so tightly that it was almost painful.
     "Are you hurt?" I croaked, my voice rough as if I hadn't used it in a long time.
     She spoke quietly, in a tone tainted with shock and terror. "No. Not physically, I don't think. But my heart hurts."
     "I'm here for you," I said. "We don't have to talk right now. We can just lay here. Whatever you want to do."
     "Oh, Melany," Xantara sighed. "I don't know how to tell you. I don't know if I can." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Hell, I don't even know if I'm allowed to."
     "You don't have to say anything you don't want to say."
     "But you'll find out." I felt her lips move against the flesh below my ear. It sent chills through me, despite the warmth that came from her touch. "All of you will. And you'll think of me differently. Our group... All of us are already falling apart, it seems like. And this will surely be the end of us."
     "I will never think of you any differently." The absolute conviction in my tone, though I believed what I said, startled me. I had never been so sure of something, but the force of the emotions running through me was unlike anything I'd ever felt.
     She lifted her head. Our eyes met; her face was only inches away from mine. In an instant, I knew that I cared for her more than anything else I've ever known, or at least could remember. Though my past constantly eluded me - or maybe it was me, escaping my past - I was positive she had always been there in the rough times I've tried my whole existence to forget. Even when she had been forced out of my life - that time which I also couldn't recall, but was sure she had been forced - she waited for me. She was my home, I was convinced of that. She knew me like she knew herself. Maybe she even knew me more than herself. The realization of that hit me hard. She had been my family more than my own blood had ever been.
     "You truly believe that," Xantara stated dreamily. Her eyes blazed with a dauntingly fierce love that knocked the breath out of me.
     "No, I know that." I choked on my words.
     The way that her eyes were glued to my own, seemingly unable to stray to anything else despite her obviously not wanting me to see what horrors swam in them, sent a heat through me that Kai's flames could not touch. It did not ease its way into my bloodstream, it blazed through me, untamed. I winced at the violent throes of feeling roaring throughout my body. I couldn't comprehend how it was possible for Xantara to have such adoration in her stare when it was so full of dread at the same time. And how could it all be for me? I wondered disbelievingly, though there was no question about it. I was stunned to discover that a similar emotion to being near Calypso was flooding me entirely. But it was different, too. Easier to control. Which made it infinitely more powerful. I could see shock somewhere in the black depths of her gaze. Could it be that she was just as confused as I was about the sudden and unexpected tension between us?
Xantara exhaled shakily. A stray tear ran down her cheek, the rest were drying in streaks on her solemnly beautiful face. "I'm just so scared of what this means for me... For us." She swung an arm outward, as if gesturing to the rest of our group, who were all surely in their beds right now, unable to sleep because of their own similar worries. But a part of me thought that, right now, she was only talking about the two of us.
"Nothing is going to separate us. Nothing can. Our fates are so tightly interwoven that not even death will tear us apart. No matter what happened tonight, or what will happen."
I was dismayed, though, by the quiver in my own voice. The grief and sadness and fear coming from her in nauseating waves had me holding onto her as tightly as she clung to me, as if I were afraid she would disappear if I let her go. She was looking at me with a similar combination of hope and doubt - the same way she had looked at me when I had told her that I wasn't afraid of her. That moment seemed like it had been forever ago.
I almost thought I could hear the wheels in her mind turning as she considered what her next words would be. I had been sure I was confident that whatever she told me would change nothing. But I was terrified of what she would say. Because she had changed, in some tremendous way I could not quite put my finger on. Something about her was different. And there was no doubt that it would affect all of us. Would it finally drive a wedge between us? Would what Xantara experienced in that house drive us all over the edge?
It felt as if fire coursed through my veins, but my insides were as cold as ice.
"Melany," Xantara sighed heavily, with a hopelessness that made my soul ache. "I'm sure that you will find out about it eventually, no matter how much I want to keep it from you right now. But... But if this pushes you away, I... I don't know what I'd do. I don't want to go through that again, forget you like that..." She took a deep, shaky breath. Her hand, which now rested on my hip, was balled into a fist so tight her knuckles had turned white.
     "You are not -" I started, almost angry that she would even think that was a possibility, even though the same worry had been plaguing my mind.
     Her next words cut me off, left me stunned speechless.
     "I don't have a God, Melany. I am one." She spoke slowly, as if it took an effort to keep her voice steady.
     I heard what she said, but I couldn't understand it. Perhaps I didn't want to understand.
     "What do you mean by that?" I asked after a dragging period of silence.
     She shut her eyes tight, and appeared to think for a minute. When she opened them again, they were shimmering with the beginnings of fresh tears. "I mean what I say," she replied in a low voice. "The rest of you were gifted divinity, but mine... Mine is my own."
     "H-How... Xantara, how is that possible?" I questioned dubiously. I recalled her mentioning that sometimes she felt as if she had once been someone else. The realization hit me like a wave in a stormy ocean, leaving me as breathless as if I were now drowning in it.
      "I don't know," she sighed. "It doesn't even seem real. But I guess it is. It has to be. They were all there tonight. All of the Gods. I could feel their royalty, could see a piece of each of you in them. There was no way that I could deny what they were saying. No matter how badly I wanted to."
     "What did they tell you?" My voice came out in a breathless whisper. I myself didn't want to believe what she was telling me. I didn't want to believe another impossible statement in my life. I felt as if I had witnessed enough shock to disturb an entire country. Hell, the whole world, even.
     "They told me that I was the last of them to leave the sick tribe that Achiq had mentioned to us the night we met him." She winced as she spoke, like recalling the memory physically pained her. "They told me that I had stayed even after the last of them died. On Earth, anyways. After the tribe was gone, they said I looked after troubled children, and taught them the ways of that lost tribe. It was hard to keep the knowledge of those people alive, I guess, being alone like I was. They said I forgot about them. That I eventually forgot myself, too. Said I've been roaming the world ever since, doing the only thing I could remember to do - help kids."
Her eyes were on me but they were clouded and distant, like she was not looking at me but through me, and into the end of the world. I got lost in her dark gaze as she focused on something that I wasn't able to see. There was something surreally entrancing about those two coal-black orbs settled into her pale face. The memories and dreams she had briefly told me about hinted at a sort of immortality I couldn't begin to understand. In this moment, which came to me like an epiphany, I noticed the strength that she held within her - patiently waiting, prepared to conquer entire armies with ease. There was power in her beauty, as stunning as it was strange. It wasn't hard to convince myself that she actually was a Goddess, that she had existed for far longer than anything else on this planet.
     All of a sudden, my mind was racing with the little memory I did have of Xantara, from both my blurry past and our reunion here at ShadowWood Reform School. I could feel my heart racing, beating against my rib cage so hard that it was painful. I was sweating, despite my body being covered in goosebumps. I was shocked and horrified, on the verge of breaking.
     I closed my eyes. Forced myself to take deep breaths, exhaling them slowly. Not for the first time, I was grateful to be able to expel all of my worries and fears. I wondered if this skill was learned after the trauma I had endured my whole life, or if it was one of the attributes of being chosen by the God of Death. It was so simple to numb myself to this reality, to be able to deal with what my fate had become. Something about it felt dangerous, but it was of no concern to me right now.
     I tried to tell myself that I didn't think of her differently, as I had said so surely only moments ago. But it wasn't true, no matter how much I had thought I believed it to be. I saw Xantara now in a different light. Meeting her again at this school, realizing who she had once been to me, I easily accepted her as someone who had saved my sanity, even my life, when I was younger. Now, I could see she had always been much more than that. She was stronger than I ever would have guessed. She had ruled over the world, had once cared for an unfathomable amount of things as she now cared for me.
     I noticed more than ever her arms wrapped around me, wondered what magic they had proven, what power they still held within them. What had those Stygian eyes witnessed? What orders had those lips uttered into existence?
My awe of her easily chased off the emotionless mindset I had struggled to convince myself to obey.
"No," Xantara groaned as I opened my eyes once again to regard her lovely, familiar face, which now seemed so foreign at the same time. "Melany, don't look at me like that."
Her voice broke the daze that I had found myself in. I focused harder on her melancholy yet gorgeous features. Her dark eyes, her long black hair falling across half of her face. Her full, pale pink lips and the faint scars that stretched from the corners of them like the hint of an exaggerated smile. I discovered then that she was the most ethereal thing to have ever blessed my sight. Not because she was a Goddess, but because she had the fortitude to consume that knowledge and still make it out of that awful basement alive.
"Like what?" I asked groggily, like I was resurfacing from a dream.
"I'd rather you be afraid of me," she said through clenched teeth. She released her grip on me, slid her body backwards. Her touch fleeing me was like someone cutting a hole into me and taking some important organ from my body.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're looking at me like... Like I'm something more. Mel, I don't want to be that. I just want to be how I've always been to you."
And what is that? I wondered desperately. The thought of her divinity was suddenly secondary to the absence of her body against mine. What have you always been to me? What if I'm just as lost as you?