Elyon

Poison

Red remained where he'd fallen, unmoving. His body was still, but he felt as if his mind was crumbling piece by piece. Not three feet away stood a creature that could wipe out his existence, but had been posted to guard him by the being that claimed to have made him.

He does not take murderers.

Red shivered. It was all too much to take in. How could he decide with all his knowledge collapsing all around him?

But then, with all he saw, how could he not decide?

"My Tallest!" Dantie's voice cut through his thoughts as the Irken hurried over. "My Tallest, you are well, did He speak to you?" Undisguised excitement lit his tone. "He spoke to me, it was amazing. I sometimes wondered if... but now I know for sure! I met Him, and He is nothing like I thought, He's even better! Oh I wish I could thank Zim and Dip for sending the Letters!"

"Dib." Red corrected absently. There was a name he wouldn't forget. He'd reviewed the tapes of Zim in his cell after the Earthling's execution, screaming at nobody in rage. The change between that Zim and the Zim that was executed had always made him uneasy, but he didn't probe it.

Now he knew. This Ayam... Elyon... he threw your world out of balance and turned everything on its head.

"My apologies, My Tallest. Dib, then. And Ayam taught me how to use this!" Dantie gestured to the weaponry and armor he still wore. "He said I'd need to know because it might be awhile before you understood how to use yours, and He asked me to help you!" He beamed.

"I have no armor." Red responded, dully. "Or do you see what I do not?" Red held out his hands, still dripping with multi-colored blood.

Dantie's smile faltered. "No, my Tallest. I see what you see. But maybe Ayam sees more than we see?"

I Am beyond time.

Then perhaps there was hope.

You are lost.

No, there was no hope. There couldn't be. There was only one thing to do for it, submit himself to their judgment and end it. It was better than living as miserably as this.

"My Tallest," Dantie's voice sounded strange, "Please hold still."

"Why?" Red glanced up. "What are you—"

Dantie rushed at him, wielding a shining dagger. Red yelped, leaping backwards, but Dantie sprang forward, grabbing him by the head and hacking at something. Red threw him off, ready to spear him with a spiderleg, when he saw what was in Dantie's hand.

A large black vine, sprouting sharp thorns, wriggled in death throes in Dantie's hand. "What is that?" Red asked in shock.

"I don't know my Tallest, but it was wrapped around your head, and I saw it growing thicker and squeezing tighter."

Red stared at it. Did the black-eyed Irken's words have such power that they could poison his thoughts from a distance? If his despair had come from those words, then perhaps they were untrue, and perhaps there was hope.

Rising to his feet, he turned on his heel and strode toward the place he had been directed to. "Dantie, walk with me," he commanded. "Answer me something, in your knowledge of these Letters, is El—is Ayam merciful?"

"Very," Dantie scrambled to catch up. "Even when we have done terrible things, He welcomes us. Nobody understands why, but perhaps He will explain when He comes as one of us."

"And you." Red kept his eyes forward. "You would still stay with me, even after I tortured you, and the empire imprisoned you?"

"Yes my Tallest." Dantie said without hesitation.

Red said nothing more as he picked his way forward. When he could see two figures in the distance, he turned to Dantie. "For now, wait here. If I return, we will see what we'll do then. If I don't... I wish you well."

Dantie blinked, startled at the thought, but stood in his place as commanded. The cherub also halted near Dantie, as Red continued on.

He finally reached the two figures, his spooch clenching and unclenching in knots. The black-eyed Irken stood to the right, a few inches taller than himself and staring steadily at him. Elyon stood to the left, as short as he had been before.

As for why I do not show myself as tall, I do not need to.

Red stared back at the black-eyed Irken, realizing that every time he saw him, the Irken was taller than before, while Elyon's appearance of height had never changed.

"I demand a trial." The Irken's voice dripped with venom. "It is obvious you have turned him against me, and if that is the case, he must be put on trial for his crimes."

Red's heart lurched.

"As you wish Skiftsom." Elyon responded. "Let the trial begin."

...

Note: Short chapter is short, but transition is needed. Also I needed a name besides Black-eyed Irken, it was getting in the way. Skiftsom is my translation mash of "One who shifts."