Neverquest – Part 157 (Final)

Characters: Siarra, Gena, and others
Location: The streets of Felwinter
Time: Day 5—Evening

Siarra chased Gena through the marketplace, dodging people, barrels, and flying fruit while a million thoughts raced through her mind. What had happened? How had a simple game turned into this?

“Gena…” she panted. “Gena, I’m not going to hurt you. No matter what you think of me now, that’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Scowling, Gena leaned against the ladder on the side of a building. She had run out of streets to run through. “You’re a liar! You would like nothing more than to see me coiled in a ball at your feet.” She started up the ladder, but she didn’t get far. Not without her hands. “You sick pig, you’re no better than the rest of us.”

Siarra looked up at her from the bottom of the ladder. “I won’t chase you anymore, Gena. I know you’re in pain. All you wanted out of life was for someone to love you.”

“I had someone like that!”

“And you felt she betrayed you. But she didn’t, Gena. She still loves you.”

“Love… What an empty word from an empty person. What would you know of ‘love’?” She spit on Siarra. “You were given the perfect life. You had parents who adored you, a grandfather who’s still breathing, a little brother who worships you, and a boyfriend awaiting your every command.” She spit again and again until her mouth went dry. “You little bitch! You had the world and you didn’t even know it.”

“…You look too much to perfection. I was lucky, yes—but that’s no reason to blame me for all your troubles. We were once friends.”

“Oh, were we?” Gena laughed and the air suddenly became a lot colder. “Well, now, this is a surprise. I seem to remember a snotty little girl with pink hair and pointy ears telling me to stay away from her brother because I was too ‘rough around the edges,’ ‘a little loose in the head.’ Well, what do you think of me now? Do you still think I’m too rough?” She raised her stumped wrists. The blood had long since dried, but it was obvious her hands were never growing back—not even in this virtual game. “Am I good enough for you now, Siarra!? Am I ‘perfect’ enough for your little world? Or do you still see me as a monster?”

“When have I ever called you a monster?”

Gena hissed. Her balance on the ladder was shaky. “I see it in your eyes. You look at me, you see the family I come from…and you judge me. You see nothing but hatred and greed in me.”

“That’s not true. I looked past all that to become your friend. I think you’re a great person who sometimes lets her emotions get the best of her. But you’re certainly not alone in that.”

“…I was going to let them kill her, you know. I was going to wait in the bell tower and watch Isabella hang in front of the whole damn city.”

“But you didn’t, Gena.”

“Only because you showed up.”

“You know what I think? I think, if you really wanted to kill me, or Isabella, or anybody else, you wouldn’t have waited for someone else to do it.” She folded her arms across her chest and tried not to grin. “…Gena, you wanted us to rescue the princess, didn’t you? You tried to play the role of the villain, but deep down, you couldn’t bring yourself to kill her. You want that same happy ending as everyone else.”

“Shut up!”

“It wasn’t Isabella we were saving from that tower, was it? …It was you.”

“No! I hate you, Siarra! I hate everything about you…from your stupid pink hair to your clichéd lines to your…to your goofy smile. Would you stop grinning!?”

But Siarra couldn’t help it. “You’re not a monster, Gena. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I would too! I would crush it. Right under my foot.” She began stamping her foot up and down and nearly slipped from the ladder.

“I don’t think so. It was never about power. You came into this world because you wanted to be part of something bigger. You wanted a good life.”

“I came into this world so I could destroy simple idealists like you! I hate your kind…always so full of hope…and compassion…”

“It’s not too late,” Siarra said, reaching out. “Let’s stop living in this fantasy world. Let’s go back, together, and make the real world a better place. We can do this.”

Gena stared at Siarra’s outreached palm and then turned back to the black stumps that were all that remained of her own hands. For a moment, the dark clouds in her head seemed to part and she was ready to forgive the world. She wanted to hold that hand. She wanted to know how it used to feel.

“I want…” she said. And then a sharp pain pierced the side of her neck. With a horrific scream, but one that only lasted a second, she was thrown from the ladder.

“NO!” Siarra yelled. But it was too late.

Another arrow struck Gena on her way to the hard, unforgiving ground.

“Stop it! Leave her alone!”

Gena’s mouth was agape and her arms numb. She watched the sky over her head turn a bloody shade of pink.

Satisfied with her aim, a figure donned in the armor of night began advancing towards them. Her strides were slow, purposeful, and ominous. Without falter, she tossed a bow aside and pulled out a familiar axe, twirling the enormous blade so it was facing Gena and Siarra.

“Move,” was all she said to the girl standing in her way.

Siarra stood her ground. “No! We’re through with this game. We’re through with you, Roxanne!”

“You’re not my enemy.”

“What are your intentions!?”

Roxanne glared at her, blankly.

“I won’t let you hurt, Gena.” Siarra threw herself at Roxanne’s axe, but no amount of strength could pry the weapon from the hands of the Black Knight.

“…You shouldn’t complain,” Roxanne said. “We will all be better off without her.” She hurled Siarra to the ground.

With one more step, Roxanne was standing over Gena, looking down without remorse or emotion.

“…Rox…anne…”

“Save your breath,” Roxanne said, raising the axe over her head. “You never were good at saying good-bye.”

All Gena could do is watch. And it was all happening too fast.

“…Your dreams die here, bitch.”

And then it was over.

There was no scream. Not this time. There was no crying, no promising gasp of air, no hint of emotion that was left on the lips of some unready soul. There was only a cold wind blowing in from the east and a statue in black armor blocking out all the rays from the sun. There she stood, the handle of an axe across her shoulders, in a pool of red and stone. There was no time for farewells.

From the darkened skies, a princess made her way across the desolate and quiet streets, holding up her dress with both hands.

Upon reaching the scene, she smiled and then quickly frowned.

“You seem to have missed one,” she said, pointing to the fallen Mage as if she were a leftover stain on the ground that had to be mopped up.

Siarra’s heart burned against her ribcage. Was she to die here? Would it really end like this?

Perhaps if she fought back…

She still had her wand. Yes, her wand… In all the excitement, she had forgotten about it, hidden so unobtrusively under her robe.

She could catch the Black Knight by surprise. One decent-sized fireball would do the trick. It would have to be fast, too—and powerful—but she could burn a hole through all that horrible black armor and make a break for the city gates.

Surely Isabella would send the Paladins after her, but she wouldn’t return to Felwinter. No, she wasn’t that stupid. She would have to stay away. They already wanted to hang her. She could find help. She could get out of this nightmare. None of this was real. None of it! Why didn’t they realize…?

“..She helped me to take down Gena. I felt she deserved to live.”

At first, Siarra thought her ears had deceived her. Was that the Black Knight’s voice? It seemed so distant, and yet…there was no mistaking the disgust in Isabella’s face when she glared down at Siarra and realized she had to be at least somewhat grateful for what had been done.

“…A few days ago, you came to see me,” Isabella said after a long, hard moment of thinking. “You warned me about the Necromancer. I didn’t believe you back then, did I?”

Still in a state of disbelief, Siarra could only shake her head.

“…Obviously, you’re not very good at making people believe you, chipmunk. That mistake almost got a lot of important people killed today.”

Siarra considered asking her if the dead body on the ground was ‘important’ at all, but she thought better of it. She knew they could just revive Gena again.

“Fortunately for you, insolent one,” the princess continued, her nose high in the air where it belonged, “I am more or less unharmed from all of this. I am quite unshakeable in the face of danger. And although my wardrobe is a disaster, I’m starting to sweat, and it will take my good-for-nothing servants weeks to get out all the bloodstains and dirt out of my hair…I suppose…nothing will be gained by killing you now.” She sighed, almost as if she was bored with the whole situation. “You really should be thankful.”

“Y-yes…” Siarra stuttered.

“Yes?”

Siarra lowered her head. “Yes… I am thankful.”

Filthy bitch, she thought.

“I thought so.” Isabella looked away. “…Tell your friends I don’t want to see their faces ever again.”

“Are you letting us go?”

“I am going to wait at least three days before I put a price on all of your heads. I’m sure you can make it all the way to Kaligar by then. Then, with any luck, Erika will accept you as one of her own.” Once again, she looked down at Siarra, scrunched her nose into a tight ball, and stuck out her tongue. “She actually likes…hideous little rodents like you.”

It was official. Siarra regretted ever ‘saving’ her life.

“Now,” Isabella said, “I want this mess cleaned up.”

“…As you wish, milady.” Roxanne began to kneel before Gena—perhaps getting ready to lift her corpse from the ground—but she was stopped by Isabella’s scrawny white fingers around her wrist.

“Not you, Black Knight,” she said. Effortlessly, she was able to pull Roxanne back to her feet. “…That is the job for a commoner.” Isabella had her back to Siarra, but it was obvious she was talking about her. “…Make sure she gets the job done.”

Roxanne nodded. “Of course, milady.”

“Oh, and Black Knight…” Isabella smiled as she turned to walk away. “When you’re finished here, come see me at the castle. A position has just opened up that I know you’ll be perfect for.”

Roxanne waited into the princess was out of sight before she spoke.

“…You want to know why I saved you,” she said.

Siarra looked up. It was only her and the Black Knight now.

“…Yes,” Siarra said. “You’ve never shown concern for me before.”

“Ha…” Roxanne laughed. Her voice was stiff. “I never cared for you, Siarra. That was all Gena. She was obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed?”

“She wanted your life. She dreamed about having a family that loved her. And then she met you—you, Little Miss Perfect, the girl who had everything and knew nothing about the real world—and she watched you waste it all away. Selfish little twit, don’t you realize you took it all for granted?”

“No!” Siarra cried. “I’m tired being accused of being something I’m not. I’m not a selfish person. I’m not.”

“Then tell me…” Roxanne turned around to face her. “When you were on the ground next to Gena, whose life were you more concerned about? For even a fleeting moment, did you consider throwing yourself over her body to save her? Do you really feel you did everything in your power to try to stop me?”

Siarra didn’t respond. They both already knew the answer.

“Or perhaps…you wanted her dead.”

“That’s not true!”

Roxanne fell to one knee and ran her fingers across Gena’s cheek. “…She’s cold now. She never liked to be cold.”

“…Roxanne, this has to end.”

“So that you can go back to your fairy tale life?” Roxanne fingers traced the outline of Gena’s lips. They were still wet with blood. “…Would you like to live happily ever after, Siarra? You always talk about it.”

“…I just want to go home, Roxanne. We all do.”

“Your wants remain as selfish as ever. Do you care nothing for what is to become of Gena?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s dead. In this world and our own. I have separated mind from heart, reality from fantasy.” She pecked Gena’s lips and slowly drew back, laying Gena’s cape over her face.

“What…?”

“Don’t take me for a fool. You thought you could get a Cleric to revive her—just like before—weren’t you? Were you simply waiting for me to leave?”

Siarra didn’t respond. Her words had suddenly become a knot in her throat.

“It’s of no matter.” Roxanne turned to Gena. “…Her wants were selfish as well. She cared more for what could have been than what actually was. She simply wanted too much.”

“Roxanne…” Siarra choked. “This is insane.”

“You can go now. I will take care of Gena’s body.” Roxanne closed her eyes. “She would like that.”

But Siarra was frozen in place. How could this be true?

“…You should hurry. Your redheaded friend will need you…the same way Gena needs me now.”

“… No… … You didn’t… …God, no… Kim…”

Roxanne began to rise, holding Gena in her arms. The robe was draped over her body like the sheeted body of a ghost. “You should be proud. Your friend was willing to die to protect someone she loved. I think, ultimately, she was the most unselfish one on this day.”

Siarra’s knees felt weak. She didn’t know how she was able to keep standing.

“You’ll surely want to see me dead,” the Black Knight said, exposing her back for the first time. “…But I suggest you wait. You’re not strong enough now.” She lowered her head so that her raven hair cloaked Gena’s body. “If you’re wise, you will flee to Kaligar and remain there for the rest of your ignorant life. But I know human emotion. You will return to this city, looking for me, and you will find me without much trouble. You will be stronger, you will have new friends, and you will try to avenge your old ones. You will challenge me and you will fall. There will be no one to save you.” She looked over her shoulder and her eyes went white. “Only then, after you’ve experienced all the hardships Gena and I went through to become the monsters we are, will your life be complete. Only then will you know your true place in this world.”