The Rise of Onyx Read online

Page 12


  “Hello, do you sell clothing here?”

  The woman turns around to face him, and rakes her eyes up and down his unfamiliar frame. “Yes, we do. What may I help you with, kind sir?”

  “I would like a full outfit, as would be typical for my gender and species.”

  The look on her face does little to hide her confusion and concern with her newest customer, but nevertheless, the woman picks up some slacks, a shirt, and jacket that the common Puritan man would wear. “Try these on.”

  Griffin begins to disrobe right there, but she stops him. “No, not here! There’s a partitioned tent right over there.” She jabs an aging finger toward a nearby temporary structure in the marketplace.

  “Thank you.” Griffin tries on the clothes, and they fit perfectly, so he decides to pay the shop owner, and then continue on his quest, hopefully appearing a lot less conspicuous having trading the baby blue rubber suit for a sensible outfit of gray, navy blue, and black. He even buys a small satchel that he tucks his Upperworld suit into, in case he needs it later. Satisfied with his purchases, Griffin continues down the street, comforted by the fact that it is very unlikely that he is being watched at this point.

  Now where did Constance go? Perhaps I should call Onyx for help. He dials up Onyx on his communicator, and is immediately received when he hears his very familiar voice on the other end.

  “Yes, Griffin? Is something the matter?”

  “No, I just, took a bit of a detour to acquire some more Earth-appropriate attire, and in the process of that, I lost my targets. Can you direct me to where Constance is at this present moment?”

  Onyx sighs. “I can only see what you see, as you are our connection to that world in that time. But I’ll try. If she’s any where near you, I’ll direct you.”

  Griffin then waits for Onyx to search his surrounding location. “Ah yes, it appears that Constance is back at her home. You can find her there, but as you’ve seen, it is critical that you stay out of her sight.”

  A dull chill runs up Griffin’s back. “You saw all that?”

  Onyx sighs. “I sure did. You’ve got to step up your game, Griffin. There are no re-do’s.”

  “I know, I’m trying to.”

  “Try harder.”

  “I will. Oh, and I’m also sorry if I had upset you earlier about your mother. I will try to more properly monitor my words in the future when speaking to you about this very sensitive topic.”

  “I appreciate that, Griffin.”

  ✷✷✷

  “Luna? Are you there?” Brielle knocks at Luna’s door, trying to psych herself up for the news that she knows she must impart, even against Evander’s judgement. She hears some light footsteps pad over to the door, and then the click of the unlock button as Luna opens the door for her.

  “Hi Brielle.” She pauses for a moment, waiting for any obvious signals as to what she might be there for. “Something I can do for you?”

  “Well uh, not exactly, no. I just wanted to come by to… talk.”

  Luna nods, and opens the door wide enough for Brielle to walk through. “Okay. So, talk then.”

  Brielle settles herself on Luna’s couch and nervously crosses her legs. “Talk? Right. Okay.”

  Luna sits down in front of her on a plush, white-fur covered chair. “You’re acting very odd. Is everything okay?”

  Brielle notices that Luna’s face is subtly stained with old tears, as if the sadness and the fear she must undoubtedly be feeling continues even after the initial crisis. Having never felt sadness or cried herself, she finds it hard to relate to her, but tries to be gentle and thoughtful regardless. “Not completely, and actually, I’ve been told not to tell you this, but I think I absolutely have to.”

  “You have to tell me… what exactly?” Her voice lowers, seemingly bracing herself for the blow.

  “Onyx is stuck on the throne.”

  Luna audibly exhales. “Well, yes, I was aware of that. Is that all?”

  Brielle shakes her head. “Well, no, not entirely. You see, he’s not doing well.”

  “Well I am aware how hard it must be, and I can only imagine how he’s feeling about it because it’s killing me being apart from him. But Griffin and Evander are working tirelessly to set him free, and then when they do, everything is going to be okay. So there’s no need to worry.” Luna smiles at Brielle, and then gets up off the couch. “Would you like something to drink? I’m gonna get some water.”

  “No, I’m fine, thank you though. And no, that’s not the whole story.”

  “Oh?”

  Brielle gulps back the concerned lump forming in her throat, but it still hurts less than the guilt and feelings of betrayal digging a pit in her stomach. “So… he’s not doing well, as in, the throne and the current it carries, is slowly sapping away his life force, the longer he’s on it.”

  The glass of water hits the floor and shatters, as Luna remains completely silent, frozen in place, in the middle of her pod. “What… what exactly do you mean? Like, the same way Zephyr was weakened? No, no, he can’t be… Zephyr was on that throne for eons, since the beginning of time. That’s impossible.”

  Brielle shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, we have to remember that Zephyr was a Titan, appointed eons before time began. He was well-equipped and able to handle it for as long as he did. Onyx, on the other hand, wasn’t meant to hold that position for any longer than he really has.”

  Luna sinks down onto her couch again, barely even acknowledging the broken glass on her floor. “So… what do we do? How long until…”

  “We don’t know, Luna. I’m so sorry. It’s going to take a little time, maybe more than we have. I wish I had better news. Evander made me promise not to tell you, but I couldn’t help myself - I felt that you had the right to know. Wish I said something sooner.”

  Luna remains silent, not even crying yet. Her face appears stone-like, as if waiting out the response would make the painful reality dissipate faster. But it won’t, and she refuses to budge. She sits there in complete silence as her insides scream her name, and all the plans, hopes, and dreams that she had for Onyx goes down a receptacle tube into the great unknown.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Good morning, class!” I force myself to smile as cheerfully as possible to my class, even though it is the beginning of the last week I’ll ever be teaching them. This week would be incredibly sad, but it will likely be nothing compared to next week, when I’ll be knee-deep in wedding planning, including dress fittings, and who knows what else. I am dreading it, all of it. The end of this week will mark the beginning of my own life phasing out so my own personal death can begin.

  “Good morning, Mistress Miller.” I smile at the chorus of their voices greeting me, and I make a mental note to store that in my memory, as I will surely miss it. In fact, the list of things that I know I will be missing has been growing steadily longer every day, as my inevitable marriage to the miserable slug grows closer every day.

  “I have some unfortunate news to share with you, students. I am so sad to announce that I will be ending my term teaching you all here in this schoolhouse at week’s end.”

  Hushes and whispers float among the gasps in the room. “But Mistress Miller, we love you teaching us here!” Many of the other students nod their heads in approval, and I feel my eyes watering at their outpouring of appreciation toward me. “Yes please, do stay Mistress Miller! We’ll be good, right everyone?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing you’ve done wrong, absolutely not. Not even you, Johnathan.” I nod to the troublemaker in the back row, who shrugs at me even though a small smile threatens to form on his face. “I am actually due to be married in less than two weeks’ time, so preparations must be made. I’m ending my stint here at week’s end, and Mistress Mary Smith will be your new teacher.”

  I’m instantly met with a chorus of moans and groans, complaining about how boring Mary was last time she came to substitute teach when I fell ill for a week last year. “Now now, do
n’t speak so harshly of your new school mistress, I am sure that you will learn a lot of wonderful things from her.”

  “Mistress Miller, who are you betrothed to?”

  I swallow uncomfortably, as I realize that I will have to reveal the source of my dread. After all, I have always wanted to be married, but perhaps not this soon and definitely not to Silas, not in a million years. “I will be joined in matrimony to Silas Brewster.” I nearly gag as those words escape my mouth, and Fae notices that from across the room, as her eyes widen and she averts her gaze from me as to not call attention to my unfavorable reaction.

  “Well, congratulations are in order, Mistress Miller!”

  I turn to my left and force a smile on behalf of the very sweet and thoughtful girl next to me, my favorite student. “Thank you, ever so much, Bitty.”

  “You must be so thrilled!” She claps her hands happily, and I remain stumped as to how to be honest without sullying Silas’ reputation. After all, he does that all on his own.

  “Well, I can honestly say that it will certainly be a change of pace.” I smile politely, and then turn back to my desk before I have to entertain any more comments. “Time to take attendance now, we have much to do today. Emily Alcott?”

  “Here.”

  I continue down the list until every student is accounted for, and then I open my copy of their primer. “We should review your spelling list for the exam on Wednesday. You’ve all remembered and studied over the weekend, correct?”

  Some students excitedly nod, while the vast majority shrug or sheepishly look away. “Now, I know it’s not the most exciting thing in the world, but it is quite important, nonetheless. So, let’s get to work.”

  ✷✷✷

  “Where is she now, Griffin?”

  “She’s in the schoolhouse with the young humanoids, Onyx. I’m watching her through the window.”

  “Good, keep an eye on her.”

  “I will.”

  Griffin clicks off his communicator, and then watches as the students appear to be leaving the schoolhouse, at least temporarily. They run out of the building excitedly, making a beeline for the school grounds. If it’s anything like what they did a few days ago, he expects them to return to their studies shortly - it’s only a brief afternoon reprieve to allow them to get their energy out. Griffin decides to walk around the periphery of the grounds to get a better look at Constance, preferably without arousing suspicion. His new clothes are already making that a lot easier than it was before.

  Unfortunately, Griffin doesn’t consider the fact that even in disguise, a strange man skulking around a schoolyard can also look very, very bad.

  “Excuse me, who are you and what is your business here?”

  He turns around with a start and finds himself face-to-face with the very reason he’s there in the first place. “Oh, uh, hello. I’ll just be going, I mean, sorry.” He turns to walk away, but the girl grabs his shirtsleeve and doesn’t let go.

  “Answer my question, or I will have you hauled out of here faster than a horse-drawn carriage chasing a sugar cube vendor.”

  Her blue eyes pierce his, and he feels a shiver crawl down his spine. He mumbles the first thing that comes to mind: “You look just like him.”

  “What? Who do I look like?” She backs away, visibly unsettled.

  “No, sorry, I didn’t mean to, I really should be going. My apologies, Miss.” Griffin tips his hat as he’s seen other male humanoids do, and then makes his way back toward the main path. Constance stands still, watching him walk away. Griffin dares only to turn back once, just long enough to take in her surprised expression and the way her dress flows in the warm afternoon spring air.

  “Mistress Miller, who was that?” Constance looks down at one of her students, who also saw the mysterious character on the school grounds.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea, Bitty. Was he bothering you?”

  “No, but he was just standing around watching everyone, and I thought it to be rather odd.”

  “It was very odd indeed.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “… and that’s why I absolutely require it to be done exactly to my specifications. You understand that, right Evander?” Onyx leans back on his throne, his cavernous blue eyes growing darker every moment.

  “Absolutely, I understand you completely.” Evander lowers his voice a bit, and after looking around the Grand Hall, he asks Onyx the question that has been on his mind. “So how are you feeling?”

  Onyx sighs audibly, and shoves his hand angrily through his flaming hair. He shrieks when his hand touches the flames. “You’d think I would have kicked that habit by now.”

  Evander awaits the answer to his question, so set on it that he doesn’t even flinch at Onyx’s cheap attempt at humor. “Seriously, I’ve been worried about you. I mean, everyone is, but especially me because of… what you told me before.” Evander motions to the throne, and then back up to Onyx’s now almost completely pale face and sunken eyes.

  “Well, I don’t feel good.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “I mean, I’m hanging in there, but it hurts. All of it. I hate feeling stuck more than anything, and I hate that Luna probably needs me and I can’t be there for her. Everything about this is even worse than I could have ever imagined.”

  Evander nods and sighs. “None of us knew that there would be this many repercussions. We may have saved the Upperworld, but we might have lost you.”

  Onyx looks down at the impeccably-tiled floors and frowns at his reflection. “Sometimes I wonder if the Upperworld was even worth saving.”

  Evander’s jaw drops. “Um, come again?”

  Onyx sits up a bit more, as if to punctuate his point with more emphasis. “Well, I mean, I just don’t truly see how really necessary it is. I bet humans can make their own decisions. Especially after living around them for a bit, I’ve seen that they are surprisingly sentient. And the energy will just re-route itself to the humans directly, so lives can still be produced and the human race will continue just fine without us. I think what we do is… relatively redundant.”

  “You’re just saying this because you’re understandably stuck and very frustrated about it.”

  Onyx frowns. “Well, that could be part of it, but it’s not the only reason. Far from it, actually. I’m just asking you to think critically - why did we ever think that humanoids needed help making decisions? As we saw in my case, they still do what they want. So, why keep them from what they are going to do anyway? As the Earthlings would say, give the people what they want.”

  Evander stares at the floor between his feet and sighs. “I understand what you’re saying, Onyx, but that’s… such a radical perspective. I doubt that anything could really be done about it.”

  Onyx nods, but leans back in his seat again. “That is true, but overthrowing Zephyr was also a very radical move, and we managed to do that. Why can’t we do this?”

  Evander pauses. “Do what, exactly?”

  Onyx smiles as his hair glows a bit brighter the same way a lightbulb would appear over a character’s head in a humanoid cartoon program. “I’m saying, let’s hit the kill switch.”

  ✷✷✷

  “Luna… Luna! Please tell me you’re okay. Say something, anything!” Brielle shakes her gently, in the hopes that she’ll stop crying long enough to talk this over. “Ugh maybe Evander was right to keep this from you, it seems you can’t handle it.”

  Luna pauses her sobbing, and sits up long enough to glare at Brielle through her tear-soaked eyes. “What exactly do you mean that Evander was keeping this from me?” The words seep out of her mouth monotonously, as if her brain couldn’t be bothered to inflect them at all.

  “Well, um, he told me… he told me not to tell you.”

  “Because he thought I couldn’t handle it.”

  “Well, yes. And honestly, I think he was right.”

  “Brielle?”

  “Yes?”

  “Get out.” Luna p
oints to the door of her pod with a very decisive finger, and Brielle, shocked at her sudden outburst, readily complies.

  “Well, okay. Sorry, Luna. I didn’t know how to tell you.” She sulks out of the door and Luna slams it behind her. She sits back down on her couch alone, but then she realizes that the real beef she has isn’t with Brielle at all. No - the real problem lies with Evander, and she intends to address that sooner versus later. With that realization, she rises from the couch like a phoenix from the ashes, and begins her walk to the Grand Hall where she knows Evander has been spending most of his time, both monitoring Griffin and Constance on Earth, as well as keeping Onyx company. If it weren’t for her shifts in the Sorting Room, Luna would be there constantly too, but she doesn’t have that luxury.

  The purple fog that is usually quite calming assaults her face as a reminder of the Upperworld and the injustice that it embodies. After experiencing the freedom and pleasures of Earth, Luna realizes how much she really has come to hate this place. Having something to compare it to definitely stripped off her rose-colored glasses in a hurry and replaced them with a hazy, dark cloud.

  I’m going to give Evander a piece of my mind. He doesn’t have to like it, but he’s going to figure out in a hurry that I might actually have emotions, but they don’t weaken me. Instead, they make me stronger. And I’m not someone that has to be protected - not anymore, anyway.

  Her deliberate footfalls continue to lead her straight to the Grand Hall, where she plans to tell Evander exactly how wrong he was about her. Sure, she cried, but if she didn’t, then that’d be abnormal. How else did he expect her to react to news that the condition that her lover is stuck in is slowly killing him and there is nothing she can do to stop it? There is no end to the incongruities of those with emotions and those without - they might as well be different languages. And the barrier between them is only growing larger with every passing Earth day.

  CHAPTER 21

  “I noticed how upset you looked earlier about the announcement. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Constance.”