Chapter Twelve Nix
Nix
There is fire.
It’s burning in every corner of his body and he cannot catch a single thought. There is only pain, and when the darkness comes, he gladly follows.
Then there is a light that drags him back so he may hear the voices. The cycle repeats itself over and over. Pain. Dark. Light. The voices.
He needs the voices.
He loses who he is over and over. The pain reshaping him from the smallest cell outwards. There is not one piece of himself that Nix recognizes.
He is changed.
***
Until, in one second, he is himself or maybe someone else. He’s standing near a lagoon with blue-green waters, and the sun is high in the sky. There’s a waterfall nearby that feels like maybe he’s seen it before, and Nix thinks he must be dead. If there’s such a thing as heaven, maybe this is what it feels like. He hears a giggle and sees a figure leaning over the water, letting it flow over Their hand.
The figure is beautiful, soft, and round like you imagine a grandmother might be in an old movie. They have long, flowing white hair, and when Nix blinks, they are at once old and young, ever-changing from person to person over and over while he watches. Every age, race, gender, and from every point in history, in every culture. Nix is dizzy with it.
They are gazing at him intently, smiling and so curious. Nix isn’t sure he should speak first, so he waits. After all, the sun is warm, and he will stay here without the pain or the dark for as long as he is allowed.
Hello again, Austin.
That name causes a cloud to pass over the sun, making him shiver. “I am Nix,” he says, not knowing how, but he knows that it’s true.
So you are. Thank you for reminding me. All right, Nix. Come and sit by Us.
Nix doesn’t walk over to the outcropping as much as he is just there .
“Do I know you?” Nix has no real memories, even of himself, let alone anyone else, but the voice is familiar. He looks in the clear water, distracted for a moment by the reflection of a dark-haired man in his twenties, whose skin is tanned gold and who has freckles across his nose. It’s a friendly face, Nix thinks.
Someone once told him they loved that face.
Who was that?
We have known you for eternity, Nix. Although in this life you are not born of Us, you will always belong to Us again and again. The voice sounds like it is coming from everywhere at once: on the gentle breeze, in the lapping of the water of the shore, and inside him.
The idea slips away.
“Is this Heaven?” The water in the lagoon looks warm, and Nix thinks about swimming.
If he closes his eyes, he can almost grasp the wisp of a memory. When he could feel hot sand under his feet; running and laughing into the waves. When he looks behind him, he sees someone running behind him, splashing him and laughing. The feeling in his chest surges, and he almost falls into the water in surprise, but the memory floats away. Nix is sad to see it go, even though the feeling remains.
No, not Heaven. It is a place in between, where We can sometimes talk to Our children.
“Am I dead? This seems too nice to be Hell.” It’s then that he feels a spark of pain. He’d forgotten it existed here. The pain. The darkness. He feels fear.
The voices that beg him to stay are calling.
Do not be afraid. We lost you for a while, Nix Rena. But now you are found, and We will keep Our promises. They’re waiting.
The figure tilts Their head and hums.
Ah. It is time, then. Go. Until We meet again, child. Know you are Our most precious gift. Go.
The light grows and grows and grows. It flows around him like the warmest of embraces. It is a goodbye, and when he listens this time, the voices in his heart urge him to come back to them; that feeling in his chest grows, and he knows he wants–no, he needs more. So when the darkness returns, bringing with it the pain, this time Nix knows—until he forgets—that he is the most precious gift, and they are waiting.