CHAPTER THIRTEEN
______________________________________________
"Elenora?" A cold hand clasped hers. "Elenora, dear... Wake up..."
Immediate consciousness didn't follow quickly, and neither did realization to where she was. She had fallen asleep at the hotel. The sharp pain that rested quietly in her arm told her so. A peaceful smile despite it was all that remained at the sight of his face.
"How are you feeling? Better?"
"Yes, I'm fine..." Madam replied to the once faint voice. "What's wrong? You seem troubled."
"Madam Pree's dress was delivered for you..." The man handed over a fresh crisp gown, softly setting her hand on the folded fabric. His voice trailed from the soft tone he spoke in.
"Change into clean clothes."
"Is... something wrong?"
"No... In fact, it's a problem we're going to soon take care of." the Mortem answered. "I'll be right outside the door."
Madam watched as he sharply gathered his things and in long, quick strides, left the room to intense silence. The woman knew exactly what he was talking about. Madam Elenora knew it was simply a matter of time before 18 would confront the stubborn human leader. A much delayed situation the Mortem would rather avoid. She knew that what he called a problem, would push him to the extreme to make 18 do just that. Something that 18 would do with any and every problem. Solve it. She had not asked exactly how she, a human woman, along with death himself, would bring life to themselves to enter The Hominum Tier, considering you had to die to enter The Mortem Tier. How would you reverse the affects of death? All answers, she supposed, would be answered in a matter of time. Languidly, Madam gained balance, and carefully sat herself up. Inside the cloth cast, her arm shifted and rested, causing a small whince. Her shoulder stirred in encumbrance, yet she quickly tried to disregard it and focus on peeling off her bloody gown. Madam managed to do so quite quickly, and she reached for her shoes forcing hurriedly through the pain. Slipping on her shoes and gripping her shoulder, she stood up to a wobbly then balanced stand. She had been as quick as she hoped. Elenora headed for the door, and slipped out, and just as he promised, he waited for her outside the door.
"Are you ready? We must hurry to the station."
"Er..." she nodded quickly, then took his hand. "Yes."
There was no wait. No hesitation. Just fast and youthful steps down the long pile of stairs. Elenora's arm was pressed against her chest, the new unstained dress looked fitting on her. Now, she felt more awake and aware than ever. Elenora could almost feel his soul, not uncommon for her, but now it was persistent and apparent. A strong feeling that wasn't unnamed. She felt his anger. The anger in his grip towards this man, but she also felt a bit of sadness, though it did not show in his face, it was there. A background noise, clouded by the rage that forced him to decide to confront this human or if absolutely necessary, kill him. Unfortunately, Madam would have to revisit her home. He would take her with him. Inside the mansion with 18 and the company of a Five, she would certainly not be left alone for anyone to come and kill her permanently. She hated the thought of returning, but the feeling was different. Madam would not be visiting alone. Now out of the lobby, Madam Elenora gazed up as she was sucked into the water of the city outside the hotel door. It was still pouring buckets. The drops were just as full of rage and equally relentless as 18 was. The two marched down a familiar street. One identical to the road leading to the station for sudden departure.
"Where... exactly will this train take us?"
"Portas." he replied simply. "The gates." Not once did he avert his eyes anywhere but forward. That was enough for her. Madam didn't disrupt his thoughts. Her feet moved fast, almost to a run to keep up with the tall man's strides. 18 hated to ask of more from anyone. Disliked being escorted, but this was different. The station was one of the closest buildings to the hotel. Easily convenient for anyone traveling to The South Hold. Easily convenient for 18 now.
"Excuse me, Madam."
A conductor lady quickly turned on her heel and greeted him.
"Quite nice to see you, sir! What can I do for you?" she asked.
"I need to get to Portas as quickly as it's possible."
She paused, taking off her glasses and cleaning them as if that will help her hearing. "P... Portas, sir?"
"Yes."
"W... well of course, anything for you, sir. We will... be heading shortly."
"Thank you kindly, Madam."
The two passed the woman and entered the train without a word. Just hurried footsteps that wanted desperately to forget the tedious process, and commence with the confrontation. The train was dry on the inside. 18 even walked quickly down the aisle.
"Why... don't we teleport there? It would be quicker, wouldn't it?" Elenora asked.
"No." he said. "It's too far to teleport. Especially to Portas of all places. It would be better to take the train. Mainly due to your wound, and the fact that you most likely cannot hold your breath for such a time period."
"I see."
Madam sat down calmly, oppositely calm in comparison to the man next to her for a moment. The Tier Head's mind calmed at the slow of his pace. No longer marching stiffly in any direction with anger, his mind rested at a state, bringing it to the second thing that occupied his mind. Something he found above all, important now.
"Is... is your shoulder alright, love?" he asked, his speech slower, focused and at a caring rest. She smiled. If he were not worried about one thing, it would be the other, but it was almost a little sweet. "Yes, it's alright."
"Good..." 18 murmured and sat back. "We'll be there in no time..."
When the train groaned and began climbing its tracks, the silence inside intensified it. The dark liquid flew by the windows and the train waded to the surface, longing for the rain alone. It spoke for them, the lull. The small tint of fear that blanketed, only the persistence was louder, fuller. Finally, he could close his cold hands around hers. Madams soft hand. This, 18 took in. Something he had longed to do for so long. This, through the hammering thoughts and solutions and scenarios that constantly cluttered his never resting mind, to simply hold her small hand was the single thing that could completely silence it all and leave nothing but a resting and still tranquility. Elenora Elizabeth, no longer that lost puppy she was when he met her. The scared, painted white eyes, the distress he saw in them that has embedded itself into her for so long when he met her during William's Raid. It was no longer. Elenora Elizabeth had changed since then. All that she has seen since she had been away from her home, how terrified she must have been. Yet, she manages to still hold his hand and smile and laugh and admire. That, he thought, was true strength. To still unconditionally love after being hurt and betrayed countless times by many. Elenora, in such a small amount of time, grew miraculously, and he admired her greatly for that. The train emerged smoothly out of the black. The extended view of dark water visible again, endless with the milky reflection of the moons. Rain rippled to the far end of the train from the windows. Time slowly dragged on but tick by tick brought them closer. Portas was the single place that allowed any Mortem to arrive in the Hominum Tier willingly by choice. Meaning it is used frequently. Not only for the humans, but every other known realm that requires Death. The ride was lengthy, skimming on the water. When they approached, the rain had died to a finishing cry, still weeping but lacking the viciousness it had when they left. The moons were lower now, a different phase waiting patiently to commence when the clouds finished their sobbing. The pace of the engine slowed and minute by minute before it slowed to walking speed, then gradually a stop in the water. Sitting right in the middle of the vast ocean. The lack of movement felt unusual, the sudden stop unexpected.
"We're here." 18 announced at the moment he stood up. Elenora looked around a bit, then did the same. Madam gazed as far as she could out the window, but saw nothing but the continuous water. Water off of a duck's back, she will have her answer in due time. Madam turned, and followed 18 to the rear of the train, nerves beginning to push harder and harder against her chest with every step, and when he opened the door to the exit, she felt her heart drop. Nothing to walk on. Just a pitch black, unfathomable abyss of ocean, unknown to what lurks underneath.
"I... I... can't." she squeaked. "Not in the water."
"The water..." he thought. The man saw it in her eyes. He knew why by her unexplained trembling and silent fear in them, instantly. "Oh, I see..." Proceeding a bit, a gentle hand was held out for her to take. "I'll go with you, nothing to be frightened of."
She took it, Madam not once raising her head from the glare she stuck outside.
The slow guidance of his steps lead her.
"I... don't think I can..." she swallowed, "do this."
"Of course you can, love. There's nothing to fear." he said softly.
"But, I..."
The man's slow and tranquil voice lulled her, following with reluctant but paced footsteps. Poor girl. Like being forced to put an unloaded gun to one's head and pull the trigger. A feeling that tensed nerves with a reassuring sentence to remind you it wasn't loaded. A horrifying feeling.
"Alright... easy does it. Just walk right off the train. As if there were a floor in front of you."
She shut her eyes, and followed him, and the minute she took a step, the matter gave out from under her. Elenora opened her eyes to pure black. Looking down, her feet were visible, the water was clear, but the inky mass beckoned her, wanting her to sink slowly and join it. The rushing of the water pounded at her ears. She began to panic, the feeling of drowning punched her forcefully in the gut and her shoulder felt numb. 18 pulled her up. She clung to him frantically, breathing as if she had been underwater for minutes. Madam's eyes met the night sky and stars. Shut, then her head buried in his chest. Small hands trembled in uncomfortable and forced fear. Yet again his voice lulled over.
"Don't worry, I've got you... we're almost there, just up ahead."
Elenora squeezed his arm, her other pulsing with pain as she tried to press on despite the circumstance.
"P... please, don't let go. Please." she whispered.
"I won't let go, love, I've got you."
Spilling it over was the fact that she had no idea how deep it was, how much distance there was from her feet and wh, was below. Weather it be sand, something entirely different. The man began to swim ahead to what was not visible from the train window. Leaving the train a distance behind, the stone statues of Portas became near. It was unusual, how the water got clearer as they approached, and when they did, the fears subsided in the woman. Now they could walk through it, the water shallow enough, but the ground unseen. They were walking on nothing, feet flat and planted, water underneath. Not a word. Just curiosity and observation. Angels that guarded, perched on either side of the individual gates of Portas, made from stone older than the place itself. Expressions and positions stone cold, unmovable. Wings splitting from their backs, spread and open as if they were frozen in time. The gates sat in circles, layered to the center, cave like domes that sat two feet deep in water, closed shut with wooden doors that were accused by cracked stone stairs. Unusually enough, flowers grew here, more often sprouting from the sad stone eyes on angels than not.
"To the middle. The center is where we're headed."
Wading through the knee deep water, so unusually clear and still now, details were visible in shoe soles and dress hems. An angel in particular as they walked, stone eyes staring from an entryway, it's symmetrical sibling on the other side copying. It's arms reaching for the sky as if begging for something, wings open wide and wrapping around the stone cold body like a cradle. Two statues, children, held a basket of flowers, staring at something unknown on the ground near their gate. A look that came across like a daydream. The center. The only singled out gate sitting in the middle of many that circled around it. It reminded her of the Halitus, the clouds circling the beam. The water around so unusually still, it rippled where their legs met it. The woman looked up, inferior feeling as she stood underneath the blindfolded gaze of the two towering angels. Even when they knelt, they were tall, holding a cross in both hands like reading from a piece of paper, and their heads turned at an angle towards the two below. Elenora felt 18s hand slip in hers, and he began to the door. Unlatching it and passing under the doorway, the climate flipped. From open space to warm and damp seclusion. When the door shut, it cut the moon's light like a knife, leaving it dreadfully dark, for it would be brighter if you closed your eyes. The single thing visible and bright were the two floating eyes of the man standing next to her. Before words were uttered, he fixed it. Lighting the small area with only his hands, 18 used that to light the candles that surrounded them. Nine of them. Three to their right, three to their left, and last, three sitting in intricate metal holders on the floor waiting patiently to be lit again. Elenora noticed the pools of wax melted over the metal. How many times these candles have been used, it was a mystery. Lighting the three, careful and cautious not to touch the candles or put them out like his existence depended on it. In fact, it did. This remained in thought as the man stepped over them, turning back for Elenora. Intricately, she clutched her dress, copying what he did exactly.
"There... Perfect." His voice was soft as she passed over them, watching her closely. "If you go around, you'll..." The man stopped and took her hand again."L... let's carry on."
Elenora said nothing as they proceeded. She just turned around and stared at the flickering candles before she threw her attention back. At that moment, she decided, some things were just better left unknown. 18 couldn't smell it of course, but she could. The room was blanketed thickly with the smell of pure lavender, and the minute they passed through to the little room farther in, nine more candles lit by themselves, brightening up the area like artificial sunlight. Almost to the point where it was a bit too bright for the Mortem's eyes. Eyes adapted for darkness, not light. Then the wax candles individually put themselves out, one by one, symmetrically down the line from both ends. Two remained, fire dancing around the wick. Above them illuminated a brightly lit outline of a crescent moon intricately carved into the ceiling accompanied by every Earthly moon phase in order from full to new, dull as the walls. The sun carvings that paired in an arch sat inky and black as well, but the crescent shared waves of soft milky light. The Tier Head smiled slightly at the sight. Now that it was night there, the atmosphere was one less thing he had to conquer. Stone tables that sat underneath the candles held what he looked for next. Madam followed the Mortem, noticing bright white beams of light no larger than pinpricks shooting down from the ceiling like thread. The stars. The Mortem insignia that pinned to his collar was undone. Meticulously lowering it to fit into a similar indent in the table of stone, it pieced like a key. The pin was used like a handle. Pulled open, to a small compartment that no one but him and anyone else with that pin could open. Him or his blood.
In it sat a black cloak, a mask like the head of a bird, and an elixir. 18 put on the cloak, and tucked the mask away, being he did not need it because of the absence of the sun, and he took the elixir and drank it. In one sharp swallow, it was gone and the unused veins in his arms lit up for an instant and subsided gradually. The Tier Head let it sink in, the rush in his head calming.
"Alright..." his bony hand squeezed hers and he smiled. Madam smiled too, the rosiness in her cheeks never subsided.
"I hope The Hominum Tier is how you described... Maybe someday we can visit on better terms."
"Yes..." Elenora murmured. "Someday..."
Their footsteps echoed as it left to the last room, barely lit from the two candles from back behind them. What they could make out were rows and rows of them. Melted wax that sat like ones in a church. Madam would pray for her sister with rows like these, rows made for many to use. Two hundred and thirty lit, some extra on the floor as well. The Tier Heads Five Rank soldiers. 18 approached the left side and lit a candle with the snap of his fingers like a match. The top reserved candle wick now danced with flames. The fire illuminated the Mortem insignia hanging and aged above the rows. To the other side, the count of one was being burnt by him now. One for a human. The flame burnt blue this time, the sound of a trigger activating, sounding clearly off the walls. Like the crashing of an ocean roared from farther in. A dam of raging water. Elenora slowly made her way to the Mortems side, the two now facing the ruckus that had rudely snapped the eerie silence. At the heart dropping moment that she realized the whirlpool of black was underneath them, she was held closely by 18 on a ledge that hung over, for this was their final step.
"We..." 18 looked over the edge to the one hundred and twenty foot drop. "We have to jump."
Elenora squeezed his hand. "J... jump." said in a whisper. Madam felt faint. The Tier Head wrapped his strong arms around her comfortingly.
"I can... I can do it... Just... don't let go." she said. Elenora stared lifelessly at the water and gripped the Mortem's cloak.
"I won't...I've got you."
Brief hesitation, and their feet left the beloved ground, and the spirit sucking falling feeling consumed them. In a split second, their bodies left The Mortem Tier and was taken to the next.
