34 Zenozarax X

10.08.2024

Like a switch being flicked, Zenozarax’ mind suddenly fell into place again. For hours it had tried to make sense of the world around him and failed, overburdened not only by the loss of five Parts that were almost as close to him as his own, but also the lack of his very own second Part and the still lingering strain of the two entities that were Aeven and Pelagius, who had become Parts of himself as well. It had been too much. His mind had become too fractured as to function anymore.

He would have never expected it. Not like this. But in that moment, when his thoughts cleared again, he also realised how fine the line was he was walking.

But it didn’t matter now.

He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: Ravalor was alive.

Then he felt a hand on his, and first then realised that he wasn’t alone. And that he wasn’t where he remembered being last.

“Moa?” He cleared his throat as he pushed himself up on his bed, but she didn’t let go of him.

— Are you alright? She asked him, her brows still raised in worry.

— What happened? Where is Ravalor?

— He just woke up again. He doesn’t know what happened. Quadirymir said it was a remnant.

— I know, he told me the same. But I couldn’t…

Then he froze - as he really realised where he was.

— The warrior!?

— He’s fine. I’m with him. I don’t think Quadirymir did anything. Nothing I can see.

— Can you stay with him? For a little while?

— Of course, for as long as you need—

But by then Zenozarax had already stood up fully and severed the faint connection of their hands.

“Zenozarax?” he heard her ask.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.“

A portal snapped open to a familiar and dark place. For a moment he thought she would protest — but then she only nodded.

Through the portal he arrived in the dark adjacent chamber to the CC on the Edge of the Universe they had dedicated as the official port point on the station. He found Xaronzul in the control centre who almost fell from his chair the moment he saw him.

“Zenozarax!” Xaronzul jumped up, the disbelief of seeing him here taken over by such plain relief and joy that Zenozarax first now grasped that while his own mind had taken itself apart, everyone else had been horribly worried about him too. There was something comforting about that. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what else—“

“Where is he?” Zenozarax asked and Xaronzul immediately snapped back to attention.

“Talking to Aeven. At his request.”

His own manic desire to make sure Ravalor was indeed alright suddenly calmed down. And he started to appreciate that… indeed, there was an utterly confusing, near novel feeling blooming within him.

“Do you have a feed?”

Xaronzul touched the panel and the security footage from Aeven’s cabin appeared on screen. And he was greeted to an utterly unexpected scene.

Both Aeven and Ravalor sat at the table in Aeven’s cabin, while Pelagius stood nearby. They were talking. Calmly and with no hint of Aeven’s usual volatile behaviour.

“He did it…” Zenozarax muttered.

He still felt the exhausting emptiness of where the Warrior should be but, adding to it the strain of the last few hours — there was something else. An unfamiliar sense of… equilibrium.

For the first time in months, in this strange connection he had now to not only Ravalor, but Pelagius and Aeven as well, he felt calm. They were alright. All three of them.

And it was a pleasing sensation — though he had no idea how to explain it. Or what had caused it. Because he had never felt him to be this calm. There was still anger and unrest, but it was distant now. Not as subdued as it was within Pelagius, but a major improvement to anything before.

And he only realised now how distracting the constant distress before had really been as his own mind seemed to sigh in relief.

“You’re asking me to forgive him,” Aeven said on the screen, still tense but calm. “But you haven’t done that yourself yet, have you?“

“I don’t know…” Ravalor answered.

Zenozarax felt a sting in his heart but still found a light smile on his face. He wouldn’t ask it of Ravalor, he didn’t even expect Ravalor to ever forgive him, and in the end it didn’t even matter. Just seeing him there, alive and as well as he could be given the circumstances, was enough to ease his mind.

Ravalor started to tell Aeven about — pretty much everything concerning Mezchinhar’s history. And Zenozarax found himself just listening along.

“He’ll get in so much trouble if they find out he just did that. Holy shit,” Xaronzul mumbled besides him. Indeed, Mezchinhar would not appreciate Ravalor laying their history bare to any living creature in the Multiverse, even if that one was the now immortal Prince of Treva.

“Yes. But I can see why he’s doing it,” Zenozarax said quietly as Aeven recapped what Ravalor had just told him and then, to both of their surprise, actually continued discussing a solution to the conflict at hand. “He’s just given him a purpose again,” Zenozarax almost said in disbelief and he wasn’t sure it was a good thing. In a way it seemed almost cruel to burden this man with yet another war, and one he couldn’t even win. But in the last months he had never seen Aeven this… present.

“You don’t think he’d be fighting on our side, right?” Xaronzul asked, the frown was implied in his tone.

“I wouldn’t say Ravalor is either. And I think Aeven realised that. He’s not on our side, but he’s willing to trust Ravalor.”

Xaronzul became very quiet, and as Zenozarax glanced at him he saw a thoughtful expression on his face. Then he said, “Do you think you could do that? Unite us?”

Zenozarax wanted to laugh, the idea was ridiculous to him and only spoke of Xaronzul’s relative youth to him — but he didn’t because he knew Xaronzul was serious and he wouldn’t want to belittle him like that.

“Bring order into chaos? No. Even if it were possible, I won’t be the one to try. That’s not who I am, nor who I want to be,” Zenozarax declared. “And it would only turn me into a useful idiot for Mezchinhar who’d be too busy fighting his own side.“

“If you say so, Jezar.” Xaronzul smirked weakly, having used very deliberately and probably for the first time the diminutive form of Zenozarax name which humorously translated to “My king“.

Zenozarax scoffed at that.

The conversation on screen came to an end. And nobody had been beaten to a bloody pulp.

“I’ll be in my quarters. Please tell him to see me.” Zenozarax said to Xaronzul who acknowledged and Zenozarax teleported directly into his quarters.

He was surprised for a moment. And then not really. He had been gone for weeks already — and Ravalor had started to leave his marks. It was subtle at first glance but undeniable. The way things were ordered more clearly, the dedicated study area with piles and piles of books and notes, a few extra books near the bed. Even the way the cushions were arranged.

It felt suddenly more like home than it had ever in the last thousand years he remembered. It granted him a moment of peace — as unearned as it was. Mindful, he turned to a set of drawers near the bed and took a pair of the Warrior’s gloves from them. The fine weaved material slipped over his fingers like water and for a moment he held one hand in the other.

The door opened. Ravalor stepped in.

“You’re here?” There was the same disbelief that had been in Xaronzul’s face before, but Ravalor sounded a lot more worried.

“Of course I am,” Zenozarax said as he crossed the distance between them, and by the time the door had closed behind Ravalor he had grabbed Ravalor’s head, holding him close before he simply hugged the young wizard. He couldn’t stop himself and wouldn’t.

“Zenozarax?” Ravalor now sounded alarmed even.

“Never do that again. I beg of you,” Zenozarax said with his head leaning into Ravalor’s shoulder.

“What — Zenozarax what are you—“

Zenozarax pushed himself halfway away from Ravalor but not letting go of his arms. He fears his hands would tremble if he did. “I felt you die. And I couldn’t bear it. It tore me apart.“

Realisation dawned in Ravalor’s face, guilt even “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened — I didn’t—“

“It’s alright. You’re fine now,” Even though Zenozarax had no idea how. “I shouldn’t stay too long, but we have to talk. So listen carefully.”

Ravalor followed his suggestion and sat at the rim of the bed while Zenozarax kept standing.

“Quadirymir is following your other Parts. He might as well be directly responsible for what just happened. You are in danger. I do not believe he has attacked you directly yet but he will cause all kinds of troubles for you that apparently could even get you killed.“

Ravalor stared at him — whatever relief or optimism there had been had completely vanished from the dark eyes. “What do you know? What are they doing?“

Zenozarax felt the tension creep into every fiber of his body. He knew no matter what he told him now, Ravalor, the Stargazer, wouldn’t be able to change anything about it unless he were to return to Mezchinhar. Taking with him all he had learned so far. It wasn’t the trust in Ravalor that was in question — but what Mezchinhar would do once they learned of his return.

“He told me that he’s been watching you, following you. He swears he hasn’t directly harmed you but I do not believe he’s capable of not causing mischief wherever he goes. I don’t know where you are — but I do know that apparently you managed to save Aeven. But as it seems, there are problems with that. Your Warrior went to Gorgon’s Row to retrieve the Lord’s Essence. An artefact that can allegedly lift any curse.“

“You think Aeven, this new Aeven, is still cursed?”

“I think something is wrong with him. They could still be connected,” Zenozarax confirmed. “Transferring a consciousness is already delicate work, adding to it the influence of not one but two artefacts of the lords with the Hammer and the Knife — I don’t think it impossible.“

“Did they succeed?“

Zenozarax shrugged. “That fact that you are speaking to me suggests they did manage to escape the Remnant. Beyond that I know as much as you. Last I remember Quadirymir saying is that he didn’t stay to watch it happen — but he’ll be curious as to what happened. Unfortunately, we’ll have to take everything he said with a grain of salt.” Zenozarax frowned, his jaws clenched tight. “He now knows of your importance to me. He may have suspected before but he now saw with his own eyes the true extent of it. I fear for the both of us. He will use you to get to me if he gets the chance, there is no doubt in my mind about that.”

Ravalor stood up again, stepping up to him, meeting his eyes. He looked determined. Serious. But not afraid. Not anymore even though he should be now more than ever.

“What can we do?“

 “You could go and warn them,” Zenozarax suggested even though it was the last thing he wanted to happen. But Ravalor shook his head.

“I can not return to them. Not anymore. If I return it will be the day this Part of me dies.“

“Don’t say that.“

“You know it’s the only way.”

Yes he did. And the implication was horrible. Ravalor would take all of this with him into the void — to be forgotten by himself. Like none if it had ever happened. Like they had never talked like this.

But it was the only possible outcome to all of this. Be now or in years to come. One day, Ravalor would have to leave. To become whole again and end this suffering on his own mind.

But he wouldn’t allow him to die.

And so inevitably, the only other option flared up in his mind. Facing a problem he had known he’d need to take care of eventually. And the time had come.

Quadirymir had to die.

No matter the cost. No matter the consequences.

“Do not speak of it. Not yet. Please.” He raised his hand, but stopped himself before his fingertips could have touched Ravalor’s face. “I just need a little more time. I’ll find a solution. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“How?“

“I don’t know yet. But I will.“

He’d need the help of the others, he’d need to call in some favours, he’d—

Ravalor grasped his shoulder before he could have made a step back, before he could have left. It startled him as much as the intensity in his friends eyes.

“What do you intend?“

There had been a time when Ravalor would have trusted a vague promise. A time where he had faith in him. But that time was over. He realised that now.

“He needs to die.”

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