Mystic Syn

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Q: The Linear Thread [Yeah, yeah. You know all this by now, but I didn't think that I would be writing this one. I only wanted to get this in before I'm too deep in schoolwork to forget about it].

  Q felt herself immediately relax as the others left the campsite. Her shoulders loosened, which she didn’t even know that they were tense. Instead of being locked in place, she felt a bit more free than what she had been when the others were there with her.
  It felt so much better to be able to be with her own thoughts, even if Krow interrupted them from time to time with random tidbits of information or input. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy their company, but it was she would rather be by herself than be with other people. It was safer to keep people away from her, but she also needed to protect them; it was contradicting, but she needed to protect them. She didn’t know how she would do so, but she knew that she needed to protect them from… him. And most importantly: They didn’t need to know.
  But right now, she needed to calm down. She looked up at the sunset, inhaling a calming breath.
  The orange hues glowed brightly with unspeakable life as the sun fell quietly behind the tree line. The once bright yellow light grew soft and calm, fading into the orange hues that surrounded it. The fading colors set the trees ablaze with light, making their borders more visible than before. They almost looked like candles in the orange light, set ablaze by only the dimming light of the sun. 
The city rose to the west, taking what little light it could from the sunset. The skyscrapers shone in the orange light, making them seem almost welcoming for someone to walk in. Only an illusion of what the city was actually like, but Q welcomed the perception of the city with open arms.
  “I don’t know who made this world,” she said, taking in all the beauty around her. She smiled softly when the city practically glowed in the dim light. “But They did a good job. Ko’ad would be impressed.”
  That He would be, Krow confirmed.
  “Do you think He would’ve known the God who made this planet? Like, would He know that there were more God’s making different worlds?”
  He paused, pondering. I’m… not sure if I should give you that information, boss.
  “I didn’t expect you to give me any answers.” Q shook her head, her smile disappearing. “What with you only being a Fragment of Him and don’t have the other Fragments are. You’re probably sworn to secrecy, and are probably the last person I want to go to for answers to those questions.”
  Krow muttered something that sounded like an agreement.
  She shook her head again, chuckling quietly this time. “As much as I want to talk to you about this, I don’t think that we’ll have the time to go through all of the answers.” Q placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not even sure if you’ll have the answers that I’m looking for, or even if you’re willing to give them to me.”
  Oh, I have answers. But they’re for a price that I’m sure that you can’t pay.
  “Try me.”
  Alright then. What do you think about Ellis’ date offer?
  Q frowned, blushing ever so slightly. She turned to the empty fire pit. “They'll probably want a fire when they get back,” she said, changing the subject dramatically.
  Ah, so you are confused, he mused when she walked a few yards into the forest. I thought so.
  “I’m not confused,” she muttered, halting in her footsteps in front of a fallen log. Q reached out to the side, opening her hand as her blade fell into her hand.
  Her silvery, one-edged sword, Thyella, appeared in a cloud of black smoke, falling softly into her hand. The fine leather handle fit her hand perfectly, as if the Bladesmith knew what her hand size was. The waves designs etched in the silver surface almost glowed in the fading sunlight, their designs so intricate. The familiar weight should have brought peace to her anxiety, but it only brought bad memories. It only brought memories of pain and slaughter.
  Q quickly shut those memories down before they could consume her.
  Oh, really? Krow asked when she let out a shaky breath. You’re not confused about why he sees interest in you? About why he asked? About whether you should be feeling something?
  “I’m not confused,” she said through gritted teeth, leveling Thyella with the log. “Just worried, is all.”
  The sharp blade easily chopped through the dry wood when Q used both of her hands to swing the sword in a few short arcs, cutting through the wood as if it were a stick of butter. Swiftly, and without a sound. Surprising that it could do that sometimes.
  She let go of Thyella, the blade dissipating with a puff of smoke before it could hit the forest floor, then reached down to pick up the cut pieces of wood. She piled them on one arm, balancing them almost perfectly when she reached down to grab some of the other pieces of wood. Crouching down on the ground, she also grabbed some promising kindling off of the ground. She only needed twigs and maybe some pine needles, if they were any.
  Worried about what? he asked her as she walked back to the campsite’s clearing.
  “I don’t know.” Q laid the wood to the right of the fire pit, starting to place a few of the bigger pieces of wood on the bottom while keeping some of the smaller pieces off to the side for later. She grabbed a handful of the kindling from on top of the pile and stuffed it into the very bottom of the wood pile, praying that she knew what she was doing.
  Are you sure about that?
  “Krow…” She sighed, lowering her head a bit. “I’d rather not talk about why, and you know that.” Q stood up, patting her pockets for any matches that she thought that she had brought. “You already know why; you practically live inside my head.”
  Ah, but that’s why we need to talk about it with actual words, he said. You’re not going to find any matches, by the way. We didn’t bring any.
  Q cursed softly. The one time she forgot them. She knelt again next to the small wood pile, feeling like she was going to regret what she was going to do. 
  Stretching a hand out, she tapped into the reservoir of raw power that waited to be used every time she fought. The edges of her eyes immediately tinged black, little trails of smoke streaming from the corners of her eyes as the black ribbons of pure energy snapped from her fingers. The ribbons circled around her fingers, tempting her to use them for different means. They awaited her command, but they also wanted her to do what they were meant to do: Kill people with their raw power.
  Let me free, Mors begged quietly.
  Without a second thought of what she was going to do, the ribbons shot towards the wood pile, setting it ablaze with a single touch from their energy. The fire burned black for a few seconds, reflecting on the power that had ignited it, before settling on the familiar orange and yellow colors of a regular fire.
  She stopped tapping the power once the fire was going, closing her hand to stop the energy. She couldn’t let the power consume her. Not now, at least.
  Rising from her kneeling position, Q watched the fire with longing in her eyes. 
  It crackled softly, the small smoke cloud rising in the air. Little embers floated in the small breeze then flit out of existence. It gave a homey feel, even though she was far away from home and not exactly in the right circumstances. It reminded her of a time where she didn’t have to worry about being the cause of others’ deaths, long before she had figured out who she was. The fire made her long for the home she would never have; a home where she could live with her family and friends in peace and without knowing about what could kill them the next day.
  The fire danced in the fading sunlight, seeming to curl when the very last of it’s light touched it. It seemed… alive. More than usual. Was it because of the life that Q gave it with her powers? Maybe, but she’ll probably never know. Her powers weren’t meant for giving life; quite the opposite.
  C’mon, Krow said, interrupting her longing thoughts. You know we need to talk about why you’re worried about this whole thing, boss.
  Q ignored him this time, instead reaching out her hand to summon Thyella again. Not even a second passed when the blade fell again into her hand, shimmering with life when she snatched it. It always wanted to do something when she held it, but really any blade could tell the user that. Thyella was special, in it’s own way. She pulled up Thyella to look at the blade, it’s silvery, glowing surface being mere inches away from her face.
  Before Krow could say anything else to distract her, Q started her daily exercises.
  She let the outside noise fade away, only focusing on the crackling of the fire behind her. She didn’t need anything or anyone to distract her from one of her only relaxing tools. The crackling of the fire brought peace and a longing for home; not necessarily the best option for exercising, but it was the only one for her right now.
  Q fixed her posture, standing up straight as she held Thyella’s blade in front of her again. The sword glowed softly in response to her homesick emotions, giving a warm blue glow. It almost made her smile, but that was not the reason why she was doing this. Q exhaled slowly and began to thrust her blade out in quick motions, stabbing the air in front of her with poise.
  It was graceful, as if she was dancing with another that didn’t seem to be there or was not visible to the eye. Every time she leapt and thrust forward, the movements were like the waves of the sea. She pulled back, so did Thyella; she thrust forward, so did Thyella. She rippled with movement, keeping light on her toes as she swept the blade in front of her.
  Thyella didn’t look like a weapon, but it looked to be a part of Q. Every time she moved, Thyella followed with exactness. Even if it were a sidestep to change stances, Thyella followed suit and stayed with her at her side. Thyella was just extra length for Q, and basically another limb for her to use during fights. She let her confused emotions unravel with every swing and thrust, letting them fly off the sword. She didn’t care how they flew off, only that she could lose them for at least a few minutes so she could focus.
  She had the grace and poise of an experienced dancer, her movements as fluid as water trickling down the stream, and yet there were still those pops to her movement. Her thrusts and swings had a certain bite to them, as a result of listening and only focusing on the fire; however, the bite eventually turned back into her fluidity from before.
  Q swept the silvery blade in front of her, forgetting how much it was a part of her, no matter how much she hated the blade and what memories were associated with it. Thyella had only become another tool for her to use, all because of what… he did to her. She would never deny a tool to use to survive, but there were times where she’d wanted to throw the blade out, no matter if it was impossible at this point, all because of him and what he did.
  Her anger for him, for what he did to her and made her do, was channeled into the blade. Thyella responded by glowing softly to her emotions; shining with determination and anger instead of the warmth from a fire. She didn’t let go of the emotions from the past; those were the ones that drove her to be who she was today, but she was willing to let these emotions for him out for a few minutes. She was willing to let those emotions unravel within her, even if they were going to come back; perhaps stronger than before.
  She held onto one emotion: That feeling she had felt for her best friend. That feeling was something almost indescribable. Every time she was in his presence, her day got better and she felt better. She could remember his smiling face, how happy she was whenever with him, his green eyes full of humor, his blond hair matted with his own blood, how she let him die because she didn’t know information, how she held him in her arms until his dying breath, how she had slaughtered everyone in the torture room, how she could never find that feeling of belonging ever again.
  Q felt anger not for the man who made her this way, but for herself. She did blame him often for what he had done to her, but she was constantly reminded of how she let herself be molded into what he had wanted her to be. She hated herself for not getting past this, even though it had been years since the events of her friend’s and family’s deaths. She hated herself because she could never achieve that feeling of belonging ever again. She hated herself for being the one that cared too much, then let everything be taken away from her. She hated herself for not standing up to defend those she loved.
  She was the one that had killed her family and only friend. She had only felt one thing when her best friend had died in her arms: Revenge. She had wanted revenge for what they had done to her and to the people they affected. That revenge had faded once she figured out that she was the one that had caused all of her loved one’s deaths. She’d slaughtered everyone in that room, including the person who had killed her friend, but that didn’t solve anything.
  That want for revenge had faded into hatred for herself and what she had done to get where she was today.
  Coming to the final part of her daily exercises, she was as chaotic as the fire behind her. Her thrusts were precise, if unpredictable at the same time. Q made all the right movements with vigor, only for the hatred she felt for herself. She let the hatred drive her to finish this exercise, even though she had done this to be more relaxed than before.
  She knew that she couldn’t love again. She knew that she couldn’t let anyone get that close to her ever again; it had all ended in disaster, and it would surely happen again with this group. All of the people she had gotten close to had died because of her, because of the choices that she made in the past. She couldn’t let that happen again, because she cared. She cared too much for them to know that she should leave them, yet she knew that she needed to protect them from the man who had made her into the monster she was today. She couldn’t–– no, wouldn’t let those emotions take control of her again.
  When she came to the final thrust, Q halted in her exercise. She stood there, ready to thrust her blade in the air to finish it off, but she couldn’t.
  She could never make it over the years since her friend’s death. She always needed the other person to finish it with her, and it had always been her best friend. He had always been there to touch blades with one another, then bowing to each other in finish. She thought that she could make it this time, but the attempt to unravel her emotions had only brought pain.
  She looked up at the orange sky, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears streamed down her face.
  Blood immediately filled her vision, both from the ones that she loved and from her victims. All of their faces, either filled with surprise, shock, or horror appeared as well. They all haunted her, no matter who they might be. They reminded her why she couldn’t get close to anyone anymore. They reminded her why she was only a monster and never a friend. They reminded her of how she was only meant to kill, never to have friends or family again. 
  She was the one and the reason why they were gone.
  “That’s why I can’t, Krow,” she whispered, letting the blood and faces consume her vision.
  You still have a choice, boss, he said, his voice faint. What happened in the past can’t––
  “Stop. Just stop,” Q interrupted. She lowered her head to the ground, keeping her eyes closed. “I can’t. I can never love again like I once did years ago. They’ll only end up dead by my hands. I can’t accept his offer.”
  He hesitated. At least give him a chance to prove himself, he said, his voice becoming clearer. He might be the one that can get you through your PTSD.
  “He’s not,” she said softly, opening her eyes to see Thyella’s glow tinged blue, reflecting her sadness and acceptance of the monster she was. “No one can ever understand what I did and who I really am.”
  You don’t know that.
  Q didn’t respond, knowing full well that he was right. She always hated it when he was right, even if it were a hypothetical situation.
  Give him a chance, boss. He might help you.
  She wanted to disagree with him, tell him over and over of how he was wrong and that Ellis would only end up dead by her hand, yet she found herself nodding. 
  “I just… don’t want to be responsible for his death.” She turned away, letting the tears fall. “I still haven’t recovered from the others.”
  You won’t be responsible if they die, he said, trying to comfort her without success. But you have company now. Best prepare yourself, boss.
  Q wiped away her tears, looking up to the others walking towards her. They couldn’t know how vulnerable she was; how broken then she let them know.