23. The Other
The Other
The Other stands with its back to the raging storm, shoulders back and head raised high toward the canopy of welwigs. The Other does not like this vessel. It is stubborn, and will not let The Other take over like it wants to. Like it needs to.
It glances down at the object clutched in the vessel’s clawed hands, wondering why he wanted to hold on to it so badly. From memory, it looks to be a finely carved hair comb, made from the dark ice-rock in the deeper crust of The Far Place. Either way, it is useless.
It tries to throw the comb to the ground, but instead, a shudder runs through The Other’s body as the soul of the vessel rages against its constraints, trying to push it out.
It will never allow that to happen.
The ground shudders violently beneath The Other’s feet, reminding it of the rapid destabilization of this realm. If nothing is done, and soon, it will all fall apart. It will be consumed by the wild energy of the universe, never to resurface again.
Rage presses to the surface of The Other’s skin as it remembers the catastrophic failure that occurred when it tried to restore The Gray King.
Instead of one whole creature, four pieces were brought back from the brink.
Four unholy abominations that live because of The Other’s failure.
Four insignificant beings gifted with the curse to destroy the entire realm.
It could easily fix this problem, if only it was not locked in a prison of its own making. Because of a simple miscalculation, The Other is unable to do the one thing it needs to preserve this world.
The vessel will not allow it to do what needs to be done. Even now, he fights against it, scratching and tearing at the restraints, desperate to be free of its control. He wants The Other to spare her, to let her live.
But the serafyn belongs to The Other. She is its to consume. To feast upon. To use. To restore.
But first, it must find a way to control this vessel.
The Other works to tighten its hold on its host, forcing its roots deeper into his psyche, encouraging the evil to sprout and grow until it slowly suffocates his mind.
Soon. Very soon, the balance will be restored. Just… stop fighting. It will all be better if you simply give up.
“Cin?”
The Other stays firmly rooted to the spot, but a shiver of repulsion travels down its host’s spine as the lesser creature expels his grating speak-sounds.
“Cin? Can you hear me?”
It pulls the vessel’s teeth back in a snarl, slowly turning to face the one they call Dravik. This demon is hideous and massive, with a perpetual scowl and an air of superiority that makes The Other want to lunge forward and rip his throat out.
“Okay, that’s a no.” The orange one holds his hands up in a defensive posture, but he seems far too relaxed for a lesser creature in the presence of The Other. Does he not know?
Of course not. He has no clue what The Other is. Why else would he approach so boldly?
“Look, I don’t want to fight, Cin. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Safe? The only one in danger is him.
The Other forces out a threatening snarl, but this demon is either too brave or too stupid to heed the warning. Instead of fleeing in terror, Dravik steps closer, his thick brow raised in a question.
“Why did you come to the forest, Cin? What’s out here that’s so important?”
Stupid, stupid demon. If only you could understand.
“Do not come any closer,” The Other speaks, struggling to make its words clear with its vessel’s strange tongue. “Leave me if you wish to live.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m bringing you back to the others.”
“Leave me!” The Other snaps around, facing the tiresome creature fully. It rises to its full height, forcing the vessel’s transition so that it towers over the orange one. “I will not warn you again!”
“I know you’re in there, Cin,” he continues, undeterred. “I really need you to wake up. Willow is… Willow needs you.”
A searing pain splits The Other’s mind, too powerful to ignore. The mention of the female has made the vessel’s fight triple in strength, and it does not know how much longer it can remain in control.
Willow… Need me…
The vessel’s voice whispers from deep within the recesses of its mind, and it’s clear to The Other that its time is almost up. Cin is forcing his way to the surface.
The Other turns to face the mouth of the welwig forest, a wave of longing rushing through its bloodstream as it takes in the frozen, sturdy bodies of its brethren.
Soon, it whispers into the ether. Soon, we will feed. All will be right once more.
With the last word, it gives in to the pain, conceding to its battle with the vessel as it slips peacefully into the endless dark.
Waiting for the perfect opportunity.