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tai-janai · 2 months

Text

Reunite

Path 4: Respect

(Chapter Select)

Voice of the Hero:

Ah, are you okay? That one looked like it hurt.

You are sore, but not in your chest, for some reason. Usually the pain goes away, but something is different.

The rest is as familiar as it usually is; meaning vaguely. The cabin is made of wood again, but not lumber as it had been, but logs, or perhaps roots. There is no table this time, but a tree's cut stump, holding out the knife-shaped echo for you to take.

"We should take it, right?"

Voice of the Hero:

Well... Yeah. In case you need to fight something. And, y'know. Once it's over.

You're not sure why you hesitate, but it passes. You grab the shadow of the blade. It's as formless as ever.

The need for a second opinion continues to make you second guess yourself.

Voice of the Hero:

Are you sure you're alright? You know I can feel how unsure you are?

You shake away the doubt, and continue to inspect the cabin. It is dusty, but still warm. It's almost hospitable.

The door is warped and made of twisting wood. Not very practical, but it does look interesting. There is a woody squeal as it pulls open.

Your descent is practically pleasant. the walls are made of vertical, distorted logs of wood. Overhead, there are clumps of white flowers that grow downwards. The floor, however, is barely a staircase at all. it's just twisted roots at an incline that give you difficulty as you make your way down.

You reach the bottom. The voice in your head knows to keep quiet now.

The basement is beautiful. Hanging flowers litter the ceiling, and every corner has a bush of a different blossom. The floor is a bed of soft moss, comforting your every step with cooling greenery.

At the far end sits something small. If it stood, the top of its head would be at your mid-thigh. You can barely make it out from where you are. You see the chain protruding from the wall, and big, buggy eyes staring up at you, sizing you up.

Hello there!

Not sensing immediate danger, you walk closer. You can inspect it now.

It's a little... creature. It is person-shaped; a head, two pinkish legs, a pair of hooves. Any chest or arms are hidden under an orange cloak. It has horns bent as far back as possible along the contour of is head. A smile welcomes you, and it stands. Its chain is proportionate to its size; it sounds like twinkling as it shifts.

Voice of the Hero:

It's kind of... cute.

Its big eyes go wider after the Voice speaks, but its warm expression doesn't fall.

Thank you! Are you here to let me out?

You nod and return the Being's smile.

Voice of the Hero:

This one is actually going to be simple! It's a welcome change after everything we've gone through.

You start forward.

You trip on an exposed root. You grunt as you hit the floor, and the echo flies from your hand, stopping a few feet in front of you.

Oh, watch your step.

It turns its gaze down to the echo, the smile now a lip curled in worry. It tilts its head, and it blinks, not looking away.

What did you need that thing for anyway?

You bring yourself back to your feet, but don't immediately grab for the blade, not feeling the need to.

"Don't worry, it isn't for you."

It looks at you with a doubting smirk.

Who's it for, then. You?

You shrug.

Voice of the Hero:

Kind of.

You close the gap between the two of you. It really is quite small. Its eager grin is rather endearing, staring up at you.

You reach down for the clamp around its neck. The creature watches your hand approach it with excitement in its eyes.

Your hand brushes the steel of the clamp... And nothing happens.

Voice of the Hero:

Oh, it just couldn't be that easy.

What are you doing? Where's the key?

Voice of the Hero:

We don't have the key.

"Did you think I was what locked you here?"

I...

It starts, but stops itself. It's eyes squint, and it gives you a quick once-over.

Of course not.

"We'll just have to break the chains as they are."

Voice of the Hero:

Sorry about that. We thought we had this down by now, but, maybe something's off.

Sure. I've waited this long.

You inspect the chain as the Voice continues to converse with the Being.

Voice of the Hero:

How long have you waited?

It tilts its head, grinning again.

I'm not sure. I wouldn't know how I'd count time down here. I know it's been a while, though.

You tug at the chain. It doesn't seem as strong or impenetrable as the others.

"I can't get the clamp off, but i can probably break it at a weak point. Is that okay?"

I don't mind. Anything but attached is good enough.

You retrieve the echo for brute-forcing the chain. The creature's wide eyes never leave you.

Your hand on the hilt, you kneel down and hit the thin chain once, then twice. One of the links cracks, and you free the Being from the wall.

It steps away from where you cut the chain, now between you and the stairs at the end of the room, grinning brightly as it eyes the damaged link.

Finally.

Its smile doesn't fall. A set of transluscent, veiny wings emerge from behind it, completely hidden until now. They begin to flutter, and the Being starts to float.

Voice of the Hero:

Woah. Where'd he get those from?

Thank you for letting me out.

Its eyes are now at the height of your own. Its cloak billows, and its gaze is locked on you.

From beneath the cloak, the Being pulls out a longsword. It is small to fit the size of the creature, the same as the chain, but it is long, tapered, and much more physical than your echo. You feel a rush of panic. The smile the Being has worn this entire time suddenly feels sinister.

You did wonderfully. I did love your blind trust. But now, I am in charge.

It swings its sword out, and across.

There is a stinging pain across every inch of your body. Your teeth clench, and it feels like you are being stabbed by millions of needles. The pain is searing.

It ends after a moment, but you remain sore. You fall to your knees, your bones creaking as you do so. At your side, the other you has been separated again, and continues to stand when you could not. It breathes heavily.

The Hero:

That... That one was the worst... Hell...

I freed you, thing. You're welcome.

The Hero:

We freed you first! Why are you doing this?

You only broke my chain.

It swings its sword again. You watch vines pull from the mossy floor and wrap around the Other. He is now trapped, and you can see how tightly he is held in place. Your heart aches at this; this place isn't nice anymore. You don't want to be at the whims of this creature.

This place is beautiful by my hand alone. It is grateful, and it respects me. I don't know what you were playing at before, but I know you put me down here, even if your guilt has erased the memory. I'm not letting you walk all over me or another being again.

Its sword swishes upward. A vine shoots up in front of you, grabbing and wrapping around your neck, keeping you on your knees.

You see that? This cabin listens to me, it bends to my will. I am respected here. I don't care that you broke that pathetic chain, I've always been in charge here. Maybe I should thank you for putting me here, giving me the opportunity to gain so much power.

The Hero:

What about me? I never hurt you. You're hurting me, though. I'm not too eager to listen to something that hurts me for no reason.

Something lashes, and there is a splitting pain that washes across your back. You look at the Other, who sees you hurt, and wears distress on its face. The Being approaches him, and they lock eyes.

You're siding with him. Even if you're like me, the friend of my enemy is my enemy. Either way, you'd just be another follower.

Through its monologue, you devise a plan. You know it is ridiculous, and that is what makes you think it will work. Though your neck is bound, you strain out your words.

"You talk a lot."

You look up, and the creature has turned to squint at you. Its cruel smile is still adorning its face.

My words have more meaning than you ever will. You have no room to look down on me when you are on the floor.

"Kill me, then. I don't care to listen to some fae."

Another sharp strike at your back. You can't even turn to see it. The soreness only worsens, but you know you're having an effect. The smile crawls off of its face.

I am not some silly fae. Nature itself is moved by my hand; I'm closer to a god than anything!

The Hero:

Big deal. I, for one, am not going to worship a god like you.

But you admit I am a god. I don't need your worship. Fear is enough.

The Hero:

Just look at yourself. That chain around your little neck? You can't even break it. Can you even do anything?

You blasphemer. I could squeeze the light out of your eyes this very moment.

"Why haven't you?"

You ask. Not defiant or pushing for a fight. You look into the Being's eyes.

What is a god without followers? If I have to break you the way I broke this cabin, I will. I have the power to, now.

"We can be more than followers and their cruel god. We can be something better."

It sneers at you, and another slash hits your back.

Even if you could offer me something better than what I have, I wouldn't take anything you give me. I'm wise to what you are and what you're willing to do.

You see the Other struggling.

"We want to be friends."

The Hero:

Equals. Not hurting each other. That's all we want.

The Being turns its back and floats a few feet further from you. You can no longer see its face, but the grip it has on its sword has visibly tightened.

"Equals." As if you could ever be on my level. I'd never stoop to that. I love what I am now.

"I don't."

With a groan of disgust, the creature swings its sword to the side. The vine around your neck rapidly pulls your head to the floor, your cheek flush against the moss. You continue, now muffled by the floor, and strained through the strangulation of the plant holding you.

"You hurting me won't change that. I don't love a god that doesn't love me. I won't respect a god that doesn't respect me."

And what would you respect? The creature you trapped down here in the beginning?

Its voice is manic. Angry. Frantic. You can't see it, the way your head is now, but it is facing you.

The Hero:

If you were a true god, you'd know he didn't put you down here.

You... Even if.... AUGH!

The vine around your neck loosens. You raise your head to see the Being slowly drifting towards the ground. Its face is contorted in pain and stress. The Other is also released from the plants' hold. The Being speaks, emphasizing every word.

You hurt me. I fixed myself. All I've known is waiting for you to come back, so I could enact my revenge. I made it through eternity daydreaming about all the ways I'd stab you in the back. It was my comfort.

It hangs its head, eyes closed. You two sit on the ground in silence.

I didn't expect you to just... Be an ass about it.

"What else would have worked?"

Its eyes open slowly, but it doesn't look at you, fixated on the floor in front of it. After contemplating, it laughs dryly.

A quiet fluttering forms a flurry of feathers, swarming the creature. The size of it grows, now returning to something you-sized. The chain that had remained around its neck falls to the moss with a thunk.

The new version comes into view, and you find that it is rather pretty. Its feathers are sleek and long. Its scales seem to glitter. With a vacant expression, it looks down at its hand, where its sword once was, but has left with the feathers. It has no power over you, or anything, now.

It looks at you, then at the other you, then back at you again. It gives you an awkward half-smile.

The Opportunist:

Ah... No, um... hard feelings?

You take in a deep breath, and then lean in, wrapping your arms around it in a hug. It flinches as you do so, and you know it is scared of you and your clear ability to stab it in the back. Though, it hugs you back after a breath, tightly.

He has hurt you, but he has been hurt. He feels that you hurt him. You can't just tell him that you haven't. If it was a cycle, it is now broken.

Clawed fingers gripping at your feathers, not wanting to let go, mean the world right now.

The Opportunist:

I'm sorry. You...

"I am too. I don't know why everyone tells me things I don't remember doing, but I'm hoping I can make amends for all the pain that you've been through."

The Opportunist:

But you really didn't do it. There isn't guilt in your conscience. You're only sympathy.

Your hug ends, but you hold his hands in your own. The Other approaches the two of you.

The Hero:

He has been doing pretty good about it. We don't know how you all have ended up trapped in different-but-still-similar-and-vaguely-familiar basements, but we're fixing things.

The new one looks down at where you two touch. It smiles sadly, but there is contentedness in its gaze.

The Opportunist:

You have to go, then, don't you? I doubt I have been saved for last. You've got other delusional freaks to break out.

You nod. With its hands in yours, you rise to your feet, bringing it with you.

The Hero:

I'll still be here with you, if that makes you feel any better.

The Opportunist:

Only if you can learn to deal with me.

It's almost a joke. You reach down and pick up the echo. Your joints still creak with soreness. You feel the form of it coming into reality as you hand it to the Other.

The Opportunist:

So, he has to do it? ... I hope you don't mind if I look away.

The Hero:

I don't blame you.

The new one does turn its back to you, and the gesture of trust doesn't mean nothing. You feel pride in its growth.

The Hero:

You ready to go?

You let out a breath, and look into his eyes. He is proud of you, too.

He has more to say, but no way to say it with a blade in his hands. He raises it, and it stabs your heart once again. He winces, feeling guilty even still.

The Opportunist:

Until we meet again.

The Hero:

Yeah. What he said.

You want to reach out and comfort the Other, but your strength quickly saps. You fall to the moss-covered floor, and it's almost nice.

If you could, you'd laugh.

Everything goes dark.

#not to toot my own horn #but im in tears #stp #stp voices #the voices #slay the princess #stp fanfic #stp fanart #fanfic #voice of the hero #Howdy! Im Oppy! Oppy the Poppy!

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