Chapter 478 - Hermit
Chapter 478 - Hermit
In another corner of the universe, inside the domain of Celestial, or more accurately, the domain of Idalia Marigold, something
monumental was happening without anyone knowing.
Elijah Lightbrinher was still exactly where Idalia had left him, chained on his chair, completely naked.
His face muscles were twitching, jaw clenching, eyes dilating and narrowing continuously. Despite being in a searing hot space, Elijah's face was dripping cold sweat.
His mind had been calling out to Icarus since the day Idalia went away, but to no avail.
Elijah was not surprised. He knew Icarus was scarcely in the Celestial domain, wishing more to tempt his wings, trying to see if he could reach the summit of the universe.
That bastard always failed. And he always tried again.
'Damn it, Icarus! Answer me!' Elijah shouted inwardly for the nth time, his eyes losing hope of escaping this hell in heaven.
However, every time the urge to give up and just let fate take its course overwhelmed his mind and soul, Elijah would always summon back the memories of his time with Justicia.
How they had been happy together, living their life in their own
sphere, not even having the time to bother anyone else.
The two lovebirds had been too busy experiencing the meaning of being alive.
The meaning of being loved and to love.
It was a wondrous experience. Yet everything crashed down as fragile as a mirror shattering the day Apollo was imprisoned.
After all, it was the same day Idalia Marigold had barged forcefully into his house.
She had snatched him away from Justicia, her strength beyond what was known of her.
Elijah and Justicia had been powerless, looking like lambs in front of devouring wolves.
But Idalia was cruel beyond understanding. Her mind had been completely broken, ghastly with trauma deeper and older than most civilizations.
In front of Justicia chained on the wall, Idalia had used him like a toy, satisfying her profane desire, quenching the drought of love she was born with.
Justicia had been watching, unable to close her eyes, for fear of having her eyes burned away.
That day ushered the End of the Beginning of his tranquil life with Justicia and the Beginning of his End.
Now millions of millions of years have passed, and the feelings of anger, hatred and resentment didn't fade away.
Nothing could make Elijah love Idalia. Nothing could make him understand her. Nothing could make him wish anything but slaughter her, rip away her brain and heart like a goddamn unraveling ribbon.
The only thing he lacked was motivation, unsure of Justicia's state of life.
But now he knew. And he would act.
As for the words of Idalia about Justicia being the wife of another man...Elijah knew it was only because she had forgotten about him.
She only needed to remember.
"And we will live our lives." Elijah whispered, jaw and hands clenching, "and this time with the power to protect it."
Elijah sighed next.
He didn't wish to use it, for doing it would make the Gold Eagle aware of it and irreversibly wound his soul.
There was now no other option.
At that decision, his Jugular Vein, one closely related to his very act of living and dying, began to glow prosperously, looking like a rod made of condensed gold.
The Light concept began to move around him, summoned by his
power.
Elijah stretched open his mouth.
He spoke, using for an instant all the light around the universe to
send his message:
"Icarus, I need your help."
And it was over.
Everything returned to normal, with no one aware of his action
except a few, including Gold Eagle and Progenitor.
And that, beside the man meant to receive those very words.
Elijah's eyes, nose and ears began to bleed, his soul losing almost half of its strength, with a third of it being completely gone.
He went limp into his chair, eyes deeper with exhaustion, already beginning to regret his decision.
...
In another corner of the universe, a golden-skinned man with feathered wings for arms tilted his head the moment Elijah spoke.
He turned his head, showing a delicate face that looked too much like
Elijah. One would think they were twins.
And they wouldn't be that much far from the truth.
Icarus was the unique Aspect Elijah was born with. He was, in other
words, his alter-ego.
"Elijah, that lovesick bastard, is in trouble." Icarus whispered, arching
an eyebrow.
Next he exhaled, thinking about Elijah.
Icarus was the one seeking higher realms to step on, wishing to
achieve a higher level of existence. While Elijah was more quiet, not greedy for power or renown, but instead seeking tranquil life through
love and affection.
Icarus hated that about him, in the same Elijah was dissatisfied with
his tendencies of tempting the heavens.
Elijah always told him one day he might burn because of being too
close to something he shouldn't.
Icarus would always answer that Elijah would seek his own downfall
by seeking love in a place not meant for love.
They were like ice and fire.
But no matter how different their views on life were...
"Lovesick bastard, you better not die on me." Icarus screeched like a
bird, then flapped his wings, the void cracking.
Next he shot forward like a trail of golden light, his speed faster than light, going straight to the direction he was called.
At the same time, underneath a gargantuan golden door wrapped
with chains bigger than dozens of Prime Worlds stacked together, an
old man was there.
He sat cross-legged, back hunched as his golden eyes focused on the deck of cards spread in front of him.
He was playing. But he was playing alone.
Standing on his left shoulder was a Gold Eagle.
"Phoenix used his Second Birthright Aspect." The Eagle spoke, voice
male and like the ruffling of a gentle breeze - gentle and comforting.
"I know." The old man whispered, stretched his withered and wrinkled
hand to flip a card.
"He called Icarus for aid, it seems." Eagle continued, "Looks like he is finally ready to escape Marigold."
The old man answered with silence. His sunken, almost closed, eyes rested on the card he flipped.
It showed the picture of 13 beings, women to be more precise, with
blurry faces. He noticed that the 9th woman and the 7th were shining a subtle glow, their light close to each other. The 11th and 6th were also stirring as if affected by the closeness
between the 9th and 7th.
The old man watched it carefully, eyes narrowing in contemplation.
Eagle was still talking, not minding the lack of answer. He knew his master and companion more than anything and anyone.
He didn't need a word for him to understand what his master wished
to convey.
"You still didn't tell me why you let Marigold take Phoenix? I admit I hate that bird hoe but he is still one of us."
"I have been given a task." The old man said, "That's all I care about.
And mind your tongue."
"What if Phoenix dies?" Eagle insisted, "He just received a soul wound.
If Marigold comes back, it's over for that ho-! I mean, that little pixie."
It was hard to tell if Eagle was worried or happy about Elijah's situation.
"Icarus will help him." The old man said, taking another card, flipping
it, "We have our own duty. And that's all I care about. And that's all you should care about."
Eagle clicked audibly his tongue. There was one thing he hated the most about his master, and it was his inflexible loyalty.
It was the type to walk on one path if he was given the order to do so.
And that, even if he knew he would die on that path.
There was rarely anything more wretched than being loyal to a being who was ignorant of the very definition of the word.
Eagle cocked his head behind, watching the chained door.
He made an ugly, disgusted face.
"I hate this family, Hermit. Always trouble. Always corruption. Always
trauma and unneeded bloody pain."
"You know it, my friend, you know their nature. Yet you are still here,
guarding for Him his most heinous act."
"That's where we will never agree upon, Eagle." The old man answered
while looking at the card.
It was the card of The Prince. But this one, strangely, the Prince held
in his hand a scimitar with golden blood dripping from it.
The old man's eyes twitched. He continued, "Your loyalty has conditions, Eagle. Mine has none of that." He
answered, taking another card, "I swore loyalty to Him. And I shall bear the consequences of my Oath until the day I am no more."
"Until then, I will do my duty. And not even you will convince me otherwise."
"Then be ready to die a death unworthy of your birthright." Eagle spat. "Death is death." The old man chuckled humorlessly, "There is no worthy death nor unworthy death. You die, you stop breathing, your brain shuts down. If you are unlucky you go to the Spirit World. If you are lucky you rest in peace, leaving behind everything of this worldly
life."
"There is nothing grand about it. In fact, True Death is the only troubleless thing in a Life of troubles."
"Why would I care how I die as long as I die?"
The old man, more known as Hermit by the celestials, answered as he
looked at the last card he flipped.
It showed a picture that startled him, then made him sincerely smile
for the first time in thousands of years. Eagle leaned in to see, answering at the same time,
"You are a bloody fucking pixie, Hermit. And I-!"
His words were stuck in his throat at the sight of the card.
It showed the simple picture of an Eagle in the sky fighting against...
the Earth itself?
"The time is near."
-End of Chapter 478-
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