Center of Attention

4025

        The story had never ended, for Smallik hadn't wanted it to end. Wanting immortality was one thing, but he wanted his story to be remembered forever. Little did he know that his story would only be a bad memory, and the ones that remember it well are the ones that would always be against him. Poor Smallik.
He was too naive for what was to come.

           I kept seeing my son being shot. The blood that splurged from within his chest was too much to bear, and I kept my head down low. I was trapped in darkness, in memory of that moment. I wondered if he knew about it. Did he know that he was going to did? There were questions about him even more now that he was no longer standing next to me.
             I decided not to move. I shut my eyes tight in hopes to wake up in my bed covered in disoriented sheets and a ragged pillow I had since the day I was married. I remembered what was embroidered on it in such vivid detail, every single sewing mark stuck in the back of my mind. FIRSTIEN AND MAVARA. There were hearts to accompany the names, and it was so worn from all the times I would sleep on it for comfort. Now it was gone. Along with Mavara. Along with my son. I could feel myself losing my mind.
               There were birds chirping in the back of my ears like they were so close to be perched on my shoulders. The internal darkness of void had suddenly became bright, yet I did not move from my spot. I kept my face hiding as I held onto my knees. Tears were coming down my face. Hard. There were times that I had wanted to cry so bad before, but now that I was actually crying, nothing else had mattered so much to me. I didn't want to be here, wherever I was. I didn't want to be anywhere.
              "A human?"
              I lifted my head. His body was full of purple and pink splotches, and he had large dragonfly wings outstretched in caution. His eyes were completely black with white specs for pupils, and he stared right at me. A book just like the one Ogillitiy had held was in his hands with a vice grip. He was most definitely a Fae, and he was afraid of me. His wings gave it away as they fluttered in shakes from the fear that was inside of his stone-cold expression.
             "Humans don't venture this far..." he gulped.
              I didn't know that. I tilted my head like I didn't understand. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but I'm looking for someone. A Fae, I bet."
              "B-bet?"
               "I don't know him." Though Ogillitiy's story was a lot to go off of, it wasn't enough for me to judge this Smallik guy. "His name is Smallik."
                "Oh." His face hardened. He knew Smallik. "We call him Sivill. He's... in our village."
                 "Can you take me to him? I promise I won't be long."
                  His face scrunched up in pain as he thought of me going anywhere but standing in the middle of the woods. The pine trees were rustling in the wind as the birds chirped, and they kept on chirping until the man finally gripped onto me and led me farther inside the woods. I passed by trees as they grazed my arms gently, and I found it strangely getting brighter as we kept getting farther. It was. Wisps of strange light creatures had passed by every inch of my vision and started grabbing hold of my body. They did the same to the Fae that held onto me.
                  The village was made of pure wood. Every house happened to be shaped like huts with straw for roofs and no glass whatsoever for the windows. Candles. There were candles in almost every window, and there were Fae walking around like it was no secret to anyone that they were real creatures that lived here. I was astonished. My eyes glazed over every living being that had fallen into my path line, and they all stared at me like I was the alien. They had bug wings growing from their backs.
                     The Fae had continued to lead me to a larger house at the end of the row that I was looking at. The candle's wax was dripping on the outside frame of the house from many late nights of someone reading by candlelight. I hadn't known the feeling. My lights were always stagnant above me, shining into my eyes as the words from my Vigva were displayed. I suddenly turned to my arm. The Vigva was no longer there.
                      The Faean man knocked on the door twice. Hefty footsteps could be heard from inside, and I suddenly felt meek in comparison. The wooden door swung open, and a Faean man with more blueish skin had leaned strikingly against the door frame. He eyed me.
                      "He's looking for you," the Fae behind me had sighed in regret.
                        I held out a hand. "The name's Firstien. I'm a-"
                       "Human," he interrupted me. I didn't like the way his voice sounded. It was like a screeching sound, metal at the end of his teeth. "I'm Sivill." Smallik, I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut. "I'm the Center of the universe, if you know what that means."
                         Of course I did, but I said nothing. He pulled away from the frame with a gesture towards the bare minimum of furniture he had lying around in his room. They were wicker like the ones in my apartment, but you could also tell they were weaved by hand rather than by a machine. He slammed the door in the other Fae's face, and he sat down in the wicker couch with a thud. There were no cushions on it, and that bothered me. I decided to stand just so I seemed more intimidating that him.
                        "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" he sighed, leaning his head into his hands.
                          I nodded. "Do you know what I am?"
                         "A Center." His eyes didn't look up to me. "You're a Center from a future that is ruined and forgotten." He stared at me. "And you want me to stop what I'm doing before it leads to that ruined city."
                         He knew and that scared me. Smallik was aware of me coming here to stop him in his act before his story changed reality, and he stood from the wicker couch. He leaned in way too close to my face with the eyes of a hawk. I flinched.
                       "You're an old human to be a Center," he commented. "You think if I kill you that the world would die despite the fact that I'm the Center in this time?"
I gulped. "My son died because of this whole ordeal, and I will stop you from going too far." I saw the gun shooting into his heart. I saw the blood. "I don't know what you did to do any of this, but you can't play God."
                       "Play God? Please, I am doing better than that. I am the Center of the world here." I wanted to punch him. There was a part of me that wanted to hit him hard enough so he would fall to his ultimate demise, but I restrained myself from such actions. I only thought about it.
                      "What do you even want to do?" I asked. "Is this your idea of saving the world?"
                      "No." He smiled. "It's my idea of destroying it."
                       He seemed lost in his own idea of what saving the world was like or what he said about destroying it. His eyes sparkled as his midnight blue skin had pulsed with his grotesque smile. This really was one of Ogillitiy's characters from his stories, but then again he was real. I could touch him as much as he could touch me. We were close enough to be intimate, but I backed away the moment he flashed me eyes of evil. I lost it. Lost the feeling of wanting to do what my song was asking me.
                       Smallik had paused. "I can stop this, but only if you help me."
                       "With what?" I was afraid to ask him what was going to happen if I agreed. "I'm not going to help you destroy the world if that's what you're asking. I'm an Enforcer, one who upholds the law in my time. It doesn't matter what time I've been chosen to exist in, I will not give into evil."
                        "Okay, hero. Jeez." He waved his hands around like I was a big deal or something. "No, it's not that simple. I want to be God, and gods do need something impervious to the trade. Fae speak of it like it's acid burning in the back of their throats, but it's something that exists and has always existed for as long as we Fae have been around." He was pacing back and forth in the room. "Immortality. I need immortality to stave off my fear of death."
                         If anyone didn't need that, it would be him.
                        "If you can't die, what's to say you still won't continue your rebellion on the earth?"
                         "I give you my word." I grimaced at his words. He would give me words at my deathbed, too, but I still wouldn't listen to what he had to say.
                         "Why do you need me?" I questioned him. "You couldn't go searching for this on your own?"
                           "Do you not relish in the idea, Firstien? Living is much more satisfying than death I think."
                           That wasn't necessarily true. I had imagined my death to be a peaceful one with my wife, travelling through the stars of space like most people had imagined the way we had died. Even if that wasn't the case and I'd just end up in a room full of lamps with a Fae named Giartt, it didn't seem that awful. The events leading up to it were, however. Though I knew I had my own opinions on death, there was no way he would listen to me. Gods did need immortality to be gods.
                            "Fine," I sighed. "Just... don't make me kill you myself."
                            He smiled. "But you can't. Without me, this world would not exist."
                            And that's why no one could stop him.