15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
N othingness.
Not the nothingness of being unconscious. This time Ash was aware of himself, of his body. He even had his staff still. He was in a nothingness place. It was grey, a misty miserable bog grey. He saw his hands, his feet, but not what he was standing on.
“What the fuck?” Ash's voice came out dampened, like he was in a heavily soundproofed room.
He spun in place, but he couldn’t make out any landmarks, any horizon. He was trapped... But where?
Another world from off the alleyway? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t had time to run to a door. The Quetch had opened its jaws. He’d been trying to save Hallow. Then he’d been here. There was something else strange as well.
He touched his chest. It was whole.
Creeping fear made its way up his spine and to his brain at a snail’s pace, as the horrifying realisation of what had happened, where he was, occurred to him.
His void.
Somehow The Quetch had swallowed him into his own void.
The void had reacted when he’d gone to rescue Hallow. Was it a thing The Quetch reacted to as well? Must be—hadn’t it hooked him in the void once? The void and The Quetch were somehow connected.
The void in his chest. The yearning. What had caused it in the first place?
Ash sat down, laid the staff over his crossed legs and closed his eyes. He needed to think about this. Meditation was the best way to calm his fear and understand what was going on.
He took a deep breath. How could he even breathe inside a void made of his own yearning?
He dismissed the thought and focused on his breathing. In and out.
What did it mean to have a void in your chest?
He let his body be completely at rest, released the tension in his shoulders and neck. It had taken him a long time to learn the technique. All those hours in monasteries with various teachers.
All those places he’d been.
All those lessons he’d learned.
All those years away from home, running from...what?
His breath was speeding up. Ash took a steadying inhale. Maybe all these years he’d thought he’d been looking to expand his outlook, to learn everything he could, but all it really was... was running from ?
Not going towards but fleeing.
And he’d been fleeing home. Family. There was no other explanation.
He hadn’t had a bad childhood. His father had been strict, intimidating, but he’d never been abusive. His mother had been loving in her own way, but maybe emotionally distant? He hadn’t felt like he could go to her and tell her about the crushes he’d had on boys. His mother was in some ways, too positive, too sweet. Some form of ‘don’t worry, be happy’ had infected her outlook. If Ash had been upset about something she’d pat his back and tell him it would pass.
Sadness always had an end date.
Was that all it was? He was distancing himself from a mild dose of toxic positivity? Or was there more?
Had he suspected, on some level his mother was getting sick? Had his magic sensed it, and he had been frightened off?
He loved his mother, flaws and all, and the idea of losing her was too painful. Even now. He’d barely talked to Willow about their loss, about how hard it was. He hadn’t even known where her ashes were until an hour ago. Hadn’t even asked Willow.
How did Willow feel about it? Was she conflicted too?
Ash had separated himself physically from his family, and emotionally, from losing his mother. From all the feelings about his father aging, getting sick. He had always been running, always looking for something new so he didn’t have to look back. To acknowledge what he’d abandoned, what he was suppressing in himself. That’s why he had a void.
He couldn’t ignore his feelings forever.
The staff in his lap thrummed. Ash closed his hands around it. It responded with a surge of energy into his body. He smiled, and lay back on the not-ground, holding the staff against his chest.
Now he knew the cause of the void, and why he’d been running his whole life, he had to fix it somehow. Begin to fix it anyway.
He reached deep into himself and asked the question, ‘How do I fix this?’
In his mind’s eye, he saw a glowing shard in front of him. A piece of his chest. Growing moss green and sunshine gold. He took it gently in his hands, cradled it, for it was precious, and guided it into his body.
It wasn’t easy. The shard moved slowly, resisting the glowing pinkness Hallow had placed there.
“It’s all right,” Ash murmured out loud. “It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to be sad. You’re still a part of me and I love you. You were trying to teach me something and I ignored you, cast you out. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, I love you, I’m ready to learn.” The shard slipped into his chest. For a moment it hurt, a sharp pain, which faded into a heaviness in his shoulders. Ash sobbed. His face was damp with tears.
This was correct. The staff warmed him, lifting some of the heaviness from his shoulders. Not removing it but redistributing the weight.
Ash adjusted to the new presence in his body. An obvious something where there had been nothing.
He groaned softly. It hurt, but it was correct. He was…right.
Treating his fear, his sadness with acceptance, and welcoming them in was the way to mend the void. He’d learned it before, read about it, but never truly embraced it for himself. He expected this was a ritual he’d have to do again, perhaps many times over the course of his life, but for now, he had to pivot his thinking.
His own void was somewhat healed, but he was still trapped here by The Quetch.
“How do I get out of here?”
He meditated on the monster. It wanted to keep Hallow from travelling, to dull his beautiful spark, to keep him, hoard him. Why would it want that?
It wanted to pursue; in some ways the opposite of what Ash had spent his life doing. He’d run, and The Quetch had run after.
That was something, an opposite force.
Ash had filled his life with wonder, with colour, but The Quetch was stuck in one place. Its lair was a mess of shadows and trash. Nothing changed.
And perhaps most important of all, The Quetch was pure unbridled emotion. It saw what it wanted, and took it. Pursued it single-mindedly.
When it came to emotions, Ash had been hobbled by inaction. The Quetch was made of action.
Ash rubbed both hands over his face.
But that wasn’t true lately, was it? He had fallen in love with Hallow. He had reconnected with his sister and met his niece.
Willow, helping others, getting through everything with gentle good humour. Holding a cup of tea and telling him the truth, whether he wanted to hear it or not.
Charli, a fighter, a knife in her hand, fearless and inventive and full of love.
Ash trusted them both enough to come with him. He had the power of their support. They were a team.
He’d learned so much. Changed so much, too. In his mind’s eye a slideshow played. Images of all the places he’d been. They were part of his power too. All those experiences and people and things he’d learned, they informed who he was now. From the pyramids at Giza, to the wharves in San Francisco to the funny little Hello Kitty theme park he’d been to in Tokyo. He had a huge wealth of experiences The Quetch would never comprehend. He had so much more knowledge. Knowledge that he could turn into power.
The slideshow changed to images of Hallow. Hallow finding a Care Bear at the department store. Hallow trying on clothes. Hallow appearing in his lap in the car. Hallow’s face when he orgasmed.
Hallow was worth everything.
Ash’s chest warmed, his heart bursting with the strength of his love. Hallow was going to be his forever. He had to survive this, solve the puzzle, get out and defeat The Quetch so he could have that forever.
He had all the pieces. Now he needed to reason out what it meant.
“If The Quetch is my mirror, if it’s a reflection of what I am, then it has as much control over this void as I do. If it can put me in here, then I can take myself out.” Sure of himself, Ash stood up, gripped his staff and stepped out of the void.
The shift from nothingness to the walls and sounds of the alleyway was jarring. Ash gasped at the sudden assault to his senses, to the coolness in the air. The sounds from beings other than himself.
The Quetch stood panting over Hallow. Hallow’s sword was across the alley, his body moving weakly as he tried to escape.
Willow shouted words Ash had never heard before. He felt their innate power. She did have magic after all. He grinned, not at all surprised.
Charli moved to slash at The Quetch’s face. Ash reached out, shouting, wanting to keep Charli safe. She had no idea how much damage the monster could do to her.
He panicked, realising he couldn’t stop her, he had to do something else to stop The Quetch.
Ash loved them all. He loved his family, he loved Hallow. His love was power. He had to meet The Quetch with love and acceptance as well.
The Quetch was acting naturally, doing what it did. It wasn’t hateful or evil, it was only a being, an animal, following its instinct. The same as Ash had when he had left home all those years ago.
Ash accepted that. He had to stop it all the same.
He gathered his power, channelling it into the staff, and let it grow and reverberate with his love and acceptance.
Hallow needed him.
The Quetch snapped at Charli, who sprang back, lithe as a cheetah.
“Get BACK!” Willow screamed at her daughter.
Ash had to act now, before Charli’s luck ran out. He cleared his throat, feeling his magic powers flow through him more easily than ever before. “The world inside me is speaking now. I have seen multitudes. I have met people you could barely imagine. I have the knowledge of all I have seen, and you Quetch, have nothing but yourself. Face me.”
The Quetch snarled, turning to face Ash as obedient as a puppy.
Hallow scrambled across the ground to his sword.
Ash met The Quetch’s eyes. He was afraid, he acknowledged that. But he didn’t let it drive him away. He had to defeat this beast.
He struck the staff to the cobbles and shouted. “Be no more!”
The Quetch launched itself at him but something didn’t work in its hindquarters. It fell to the ground at Ash’s feet. Twitching, but silent.
Hallow fluttered into the air and plunged his sword into The Quetch’s spine, severing the head. There was no blood. Soot and dust spilled out of its open neck.
Hallow landed lightly beside Ash, panting.
“Is that it?” Charli asked.
“Not quite.” Ash felt the presence of The Quetch fading. He knelt and placed a hand on its flank. “Thank you for what you’ve taught us.”
Hallow sheathed his sword. “It’s over now, Charli.”
“Holy fucking Hell.” Willow and Charli joined Hallow. All of them watched as Ash reverently, carefully, bundled the huge body to the wall, resting it there, head in place, as if it were sleeping. It was still large, but in death it seemed smaller, diminished in some indefinable way. “Hallow, should I burn it?”
Hallow shook his head. “Better to leave it for the alleyway to clean up, that’s the way of it. Thank you though, for your...consideration.”Ash nodded, wiped his hands on his jeans and stood up. He folded the staff back into its pocket-size form and stowed it away.
“You’re incredible.” Hallow stepped forward, reaching for him. “You’re a proper mage.”
“Mage?” Ash tugged Hallow closer. “Not a wizard? What’s the difference?”
Hallow grinned. “I don’t know.”
“Your void is gone.” Willow said. They all looked at Ash’s chest, which looked like an ordinary man’s chest. No holes or voids left.
Ash wrapped his arm around Hallow’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss. A kiss full of what he’d learned, his exhilaration at beating The Quetch and his joy in having Hallow in his arms.
Hallow moaned and wrapped his arms around Ash’s neck. Their magic responding to each other, mingling as part of the kiss. Hallow’s pink, and his own... gold? With a slight touch of green? Forest colours. Sunlight on grass.
“Awwww.” Charli’s voice.
Oh yeah, Charli and Willow were still present. Ash resisted his urge to shove Hallow against the wall and do more than just kiss.
They broke apart with a shy smile.
“Let’s get back home,” Ash suggested. “Unless you want to find your door now, Hal?” Hallow shook his head. “Not now. Let's go back to your home and celebrate.”