“WE OPEN IN TEN!” Georgie’s voice tunnels through the moldy, crackly walls. Bits of dust break off and seamlessly blend in with the thick smog and the wind snatches them up. 

If it weren’t for the wheezing being off beat with the rhythm of the city, Georgie would have nearly stomped over Kilquen, who stands patiently awaiting his attention. Shivers run down Georgie’s back as —despite being four times his height— he feels those distant, foggy eyes looking directly at him. 

“Sir!” Georgie exclaims. “I wasn’t expecting you till much later. We’re not even open for business yet, I’m sorry to say.” 

“You’ll find, old friend, that my business and yours adhere to vastly different schedules. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course. Million apologies, sir. You wish to enter?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Never, sir. Please,” With a gentle nudge of a finger, he opens the door. “Come in.”

 

Hearing the footsteps that precede the presence, Xerena looks to the other bartenders with pleading eyes to no avail; they all stand in line facing Kilquen, heads down. She feels his eyes piercing through her, and --with her head still held high-- quickly lowers her gaze just slightly as she turns around. She doesn’t dare look Kilquen in the eyes. Instead, as she does with every visit, she focuses her attention on the one eyelash on his lower lid that had turned white.

“Kilquen.” She smiles. “We were expecting you to come by later. Much later.”

“Feli Die Exsiilux, Xerena.” Kilquen bows slightly. 

Xerena inhales deeply, storing whatever patience she can scrounge. “Feli Die. Would you like a drink?”

“No thank you, my dear. Not until the celebrations have commenced, at least.”

She furrows her brows. “Not really a celebratory day, but suit yourself. What can we do for you?” She inhales again, her patience running scarce, when Kilquen simply stares at her with a tilted head. “Sir.”

The tight, dry skin sealed to his cheek bones audibly cracks as his mouth shifts into a smirk. “Actually, I came for you.”

“Me?”

“You and…” His smirk drops as he pivots his head. His gaze soils the entire bar and staff. Still he met no one’s eyes. “The other one. Where is he?”

Before Xerena has a chance to make an excuse for him, Diego emerges from the bathroom; the creaking of the door brought everyone’s attention to him.

Kilquen’s smirk returns. “Well, speak of the devil, amirite? Just who I wanted to see. Come with me, you two have visitors.”

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Kilquen walks abnormally fast. Even at their fastest pace, Diego and Xerena struggle to keep up with him. The thick and dense smog of the City pushes back on their every step, making them exert even more force to not lose sight of their warden; he moves through the tainted air with such ease and swiftness, it’s almost as if it splits just to make room for him. Not to mention his flawless side steps to swerve out of the way of the stampede of denizens pouring through the ground cloud. Navigating the City Damned is no easy feat. Newer inmates have been known to lose their lives wandering into the wrong areas of town or by simply being trampled by the crowd that can’t be bothered to check the ground they step on. Even after having been here for four years, Diego and Xerena still lose their way or bump into a few people. Kilquen doesn’t. Kilquen shows no signs of struggling or doubting. He moves as if being guided by the city itself. 

So much focus was put into following him, they don’t notice the people around them quickly looking to the ground as Kilquen comes into view. Only one was too slow to avert their eyesight. Xerena catches a glimpse of the poor man plopped on the ground in a fetal position, shivering and whimpering. His hands were clutching his hair so hard, handfuls of locks kept getting pulled out. She wanted to feel bad for the man. However, no amount of pity nor amends will repair the damage done. And so she walked past him. And for his sake, she never gave him a second thought. 

Kilquen stopped on a dime and barely moved when Xerena and Diego bumped into him. Three arched doorways protruded out from the smog in front of them. The grout between the bricks has been replaced by moss stained black with the tainted air, and all the cracks have been filled with a bizarre plethora of overgrown weeds. After One of Kilquen’s wrinkly yet husky arms stretches out and pushes one of the doors open. With his other hand, he points at Xerena. 

“You first.” His voice scratches at the air like nails on a chalkboard. 

Xerena cranes her neck to see inside. All she sees that awaits her is a long, well lit, well maintained hallway; so clean it sparkles. Taking a look back at the city, her mind entertains the idea of the door being some kind of portal. She then shrugs off the silly thought and waltzes in. Kilquen quickly slams the door once both her feet are through. 

Diego can feel the cold gray gaze slithering all over him. He tries to control his breathing as Kilquen’s eyes drill through every layer of confidence put up. Stuck between the thick smog and the mindless crowd, Diego has no one to rely on but himself in this predicament. Right as his final layer is about to crumble, Kilquen offers a most unorthodox helping hand.

“You excited?” Kilquen’s dreary voice drags out the question, almost as to allow Diego time to think of an answer. 

“Well, yeah, I guess. It’s been a while since I got a visitor. I just wonder who--”

“For your axjthr.”

Everything screeches to a standstill. All the noise of the city is swiftly robbed from Diego’s ears. His blood freezes in waves of chilling pulses as he swallows his heart that had found itself in his throat. For as horrified as he is, he is equal parts baffled. There should be no reason why he heard that word come out of that mouth. He begins questioning: Did he hear right? Is he misunderstanding? What does this mean? Did someone else say it? Was it even Kilquen who said it? Was Kilquen even here? Where is he again? What’s happening? 

In his shock, he can’t help but lift his head up. He has to make sure of his surroundings. He has to make sure what just happened was correct. The urge to know nags at him like a raving child. He has to know why. “Why do you—” He couldn’t get the question out before he locked eyes with the murky abyss.

Kilquen’s face was already in place, waiting for Diego to look up. Mere inches from each other, they lock eyes. Diego had felt afraid before; he had felt lost, confused, panicked. These are familiar feelings. But looking in Kilquen’s gray eyes, for the first time in his life, he feels small. The clouds blocking Kilquen’s view peel back to reveal a boundless cosmos. Hidden in those eyes is a chasm whose bottom was met at the end of infinity, just past eternity; through the blanketed layers of dread lies the misery of the unfortunate past. It all coalesces to a point, a singularity of endless yearning, that eats away at Diego like a swarm of fleas on a matted mutt. The sear irritating Diego’s eyes erupts in a volcanic torrent as a path is carved into his own woeful soul. Kilquen swims gracefully through his lakes of fire and sulfur; prodding through the recesses of his soul. Just as Diego drowns in his murky oceans, lost and afraid. For both, a vile experience. And what a terrible sight, for any miserable soul who happens to gaze upon them; a putrid painting from a dark renaissance, exuding a blasphemous aura. 

Slowly, Kilquen straightens his posture. As he raises himself, Diego can feel his eyes soothe immediately. He rapidly blinks to make sure he still can. A wave of cold fright spreads from his spine and he starts shaking, but subtly. 

“You have nothing I want. Go in.” Kilquen expels everything in one disappointed breath, willing to waste no more on vermin. His arm pushes open the door next to the one Xerena went through.

Diego wonders if his mind was still put together enough to walk. After a shaky first step, he manages to march quite competently and, with his head faced down and his arms tucked in, briskly marches through the door. As Kilquen slams the door behind him, he displays a modicum of relief.

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Xerena can’t help but smile when she reaches the end of the hallway. The hallway was so clean, she had to squint her eyes along the way as the already bright lights were amplified by their reflections. Immediately after the door closed, she noticed the silence. The sounds of the city cannot penetrate the walls of the hall. No sounds could, she surmised, as the silence threatened to burst her eardrums. The walk down the hallway took so long, she was tempted to disable her balance rune to allow her legs to give out by the end. Truly, she inferred, the nigh infinite hallway must be some unorthodox torture device. Yet still, she smiled at the end. For at the end of the grueling walk, right on the other side of the clear reinforced glass that blocks the door at the end of the hallway, stands Alvarez; his palm is pressed against the glass, and a smile is plastered on his face that rivals that of his sister’s right now. She places her hand on the opposite side of the glass from his. Even through four feet of glass, she can feel his warmth; and he, her chill. 

“Feli Die, carifrat.” Xerena presses her forehead against the glass as well.

“Feli Die, carisoto.” Alvarez presses his head opposite hers. 

With their eyes closed, they stay like that for a few minutes, reveling in the dearly missed comfort one brings the other. 

“It’s been too long.”

“Too long, Alejandra.”

Xerena drops her smile and quickly opens her eyes, their joyful spark rapidly funneled out by that name. “Yeah.” She pulls her hand away and takes some step away from the glass. “So what brings you here?”

“Father has called all family members to the palace.”

“Has he?”

“I wanted to see if you--”

“No.” Xerena crosses her arms, and stares hardidly at Alvarez. “I don’t.”

“You deserve to celebrate with your family, Ale--”

“There’s nothing to celebrate.”

Alvarez sighs. “It’s a day of unity.”

“It’s literally called the Day of Exile. All it celebrates is Lady Satanna’s ego, and our family is only a pale echo of such ego.”

“Are you of all people really going to complain about ego?”

“My ego is fair and justified. Never once have I gloated about a skill I couldn’t back up a hundred fold. And never once have I ever feared something greater than myself. Not one person in Terra Magica, let alone the family, can say the same. Certainly not father. My moniker alone serves as proof.”

“Ale--”

“A moniker I now wear with pride. If you would do anything for me today, you'd respect that.” Xerena glares at Alvarez with a frustration she felt annoyed even feeling towards her own brother.

Alvarez harbored some moments of silence to fuel his thoughts. After a while, he opens his mouth. “I cannot. You are brilliant and special. You are powerful and unique. You are my sister, majestic and beautiful. I will always respect you far more than I could ever respect the name given to you by simple minds who cannot comprehend your splendor. If you wish to call yourself something that separates you from our people, have it be something that truly represents you.”

Xerena sighs, and in that breath the room floods with a heavy disappointment. “I expected you to get it, but, I suppose it makes sense that you don’t. I’ll just say this once: I refuse to go sit and squabble with lesser braggarts that boast their hypocritical ideals. But you go enjoy yourself.” Once her vision becomes wet and slightly blurry, she quickly pivots on her heel. “Give amita Maria my regards.”

“You still talk like her when you’re upset. You’re free to make whatever decision you feel is right. But the you that I believe in, is Alejandra. You can be so much more than Xerena.” Alvarez reaches for the door behind him. “I like the hair.” 

Once Xerena hears the door close and his muffled footsteps

 

 

Leave. The vine squirms and shivers, painfully shifting the thorns around. Turn back now!

Diego ignores the pleas all the way down the hallway, even through the burning pain of the restless thorns. Only once the end of the hall is reached does he regret that choice.

“This is interesting. You aren’t who I expected to see.” A monotone voice comes out of a forgettable face.  Boring, brown eyes pace up and down as the businessman on the other side of the glass traces Diego with them.

“Yeah, well, join the club.” Diego kept his apathetic demeanor, even as the hands hidden in his crossed arms clenched and twisted, threatening to tear off cloth and flesh. He figured the only thing that would give away his facade was the steaming, throbbing vein on his neck. “You have twenty seconds to explain why you’re here.”

“Can’t I just visit my--”

“Nineteen.”

“Fine. I’m sure you’ve been told, our axjthr is upcoming.”

“Of course you’re part of that stupid thing. Look, I went over this with him, I don’t care. You’ll have to ascend on your own or whatever. I’m not going.”

A state of shock passes through the man’s face for only a brief moment. He then lets out some air that sounds almost like a chuckle. “It seems you haven’t been properly informed. This is not some sort of invitation or request. This is a courteous reminder. The axjthr will happen. You do not choose when to attend your axjthr. Your axjthr chooses when you attend.”

With an unblinking stare, and unamused expression, Diego leans toward the glass. “Twenty seconds are up. Please leave, Corvix.”

“Very well. I shall see you again soon enough.” He turns around and reaches for the door handle.

“And tell Liv she’s on thin ice after lying to me about you.”

Corvix stops himself in the middle of him swinging the door open, like someone had hit pause on him. Slowly, he turns his head. Suddenly, his plain, unmemorable presence had morphed and mutated; bent and twisted until it tore apart and from the cracks leaked out fiery rage, its burning embers kept fed in the furnace of his eyes. “Liv is here?” Even the voice had shifted to a growl. “This visit was not in vain after all. Thank you.” With one swift motion, he walks through the door and disappears as it shuts behind him. 

What was that?

“Don’t care.” Diego pivots and marches back.

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