Renata
Renata stared up at the rocky ceiling of the cavern as she laid on top of Tahoma. Blue light leaked through the thin crevices in the wood and the stone. The materials intermingled in an erratic, twisting pattern. The water from the spring reflected the soft luminescence, its reflection moving softly in a constant, lulling flow. Had she been ignorant to where she really was, she would have almost considered this place heavenly.
"I can't wrap my head around it," he said for the thousandth time with his deep, soothing voice, though his shocked state matched her own. "Could Keone be mistaken?"
She sighed and looked over at Keone who remained sound asleep. Thankfully, it appeared he was healing quicker than either of them had anticipated. No, she absolutely did not feel relief when they came to the realization. "I don't know. He seemed really convinced."
"Why the hell would Angel create the undying in the first place? He's practically been the undying's adversary since the beginning. All these centuries, he's regarded us as lower beings. Mistakes. In a way, we thought because we couldn't die, it was somehow an insult to him, the grim reaper."
She looked deep within her heart, asked her growing wisdom those very same questions, yet despite her growing abilities and powers, she came up blank. "I don't know if we'll ever understand, but I do believe Angel is at the center of it all."
"Ma," he began, though this one word clearly reminded him that Nirvi was gone, and her heart broke for him. She turned inward and held him tight as the grief overtook him.
"I'm so sorry, Tahoma," she responded. Her own voice thickened with empathy. She remembered the day she lost her mother. She never actually saw her body or the scene, only recalling how Rocio bounded from the kitchen, her face ghastly pale and horror etched into the crinkled lines of her face. From that day on, Renata's heart was never the same, and the loss from that day haunted her then, now, and would until she had her true, final breathâif she ever did. "Nirvi deserved better."
He took in a deep breath, and the sound was of frustration and sadness. "She was the oldest of us. She'd seen things you couldn't imagineâincluding me with more than enough centuries under my belt...she lived a good, long life, but yes, she did not deserve that." His grief-filled range bled into his voice. "He does not deserve another breath, I could justâ" He cut himself off with an angered grunt. He sat up and pulled away from her as gently as he could, considering the state he was in.
She sat up and watched his back as he pushed his hands through his raven hair. She scooted closer, though hesitated to occupy his personal space while he was so vulnerable.
"He needs to be purged of this Earth," he pushed through gritted teeth. "And if I had to fight to the very last drop of my blood, I will help you end him."
Unable to stop herself anymore, she went to him and hugged him from behind. He placed his long arms and hands over hers as they encircled him. He accepted her touch. "We will," she assured, "and when it comes down to him and I...I will bring him to justice."
"I believe in you," he declared quietly. He turned so they were face to face. He admired the openness he offered. "You don't deserve the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don't deserve this burden," he cradled her face and in that moment, she felt like crying, "but through it all, I will be by your side."
She scoffed as a couple of tears slipped free. "I was supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around."
"What can I say?" He rewarded her with a wicked smile. "Not only am I a sex god, but I am also made of a hundred percent boyfriend material."
She smiled back. "How did I not know you six months ago?"
He shrugged. "Don't complain, you waited twenty four years, I waited seven hundred."
"Don't get ahead of yourself," she wiped under his eyes with her thumbs. "No one likes the cocky ones."
"Oh, is that so?" He leaned forward, making her heart race. It just wasn't fair how nice on the eyes this man was. His masculine, unapolgetic beauty allured the hearts of all capable of setting their gaze on him. And he knew it. It's why that ever impish look to him remained permanently etched on the curl of his lips and the slight squint of his glowing eyes.
She nodded, not sure what to say when all she could focus on was on how badly she wanted to kiss him. They both leaned forward in the next breath, connecting their lips. She sighed into him, holding onto him tightly as she relished in this man who changed her world in a matter of days. "The world is ending," she spoke against the kiss, "and instead of doing something remotely productive, I'm enjoying you. I must be the most selfish person."
He chuckled, unbothered. "I'm just that enticing. Don't blame yourself, it's my fault, really."
She pulled back with one last peck. "There goes that ego again."
"Forgive me," his hold tightened, "defense mechanism against my rising stress levels."
"Well," she wound her arms around his neck, "mine is usually scream-crying."
His face turned grave and his eyes darted around. "Is he near?"
As much as he was a perfect distraction, he also was unable to completely ignore their dire situation, of which she couldn't blame him. She took her time in looking around and connecting with the land of the dead as it buzzed around her, calling out to her. "No, but his hounds will catch our scent soon. He won't give up, ever." She swallowed, practically hearing the sounds of his black shadows swishing through the stale air, frenzied, frothing at the mouth.
"We're sitting ducks," he muttered. "We should be on the move, give you more time."
She looked over at Keone. "We can't leave him. We just can't."
"You can't leave him," Tahoma corrected, sending a glare his way. "We should give Angel his top soldier back, but I know you won't agree to that either."
"You're right, I won't."
He switched gears. "How are we going to get out of here?"
She tried to conceal her frustration. "I told you, I don't even know how I brought us here in the first place. I'm sorry."
He rubbed her shoulder. "It's not your fault, priya."
"Thanks." She breathed in deeply and sat back on the ground, not quite believing him, only because of her own self-loathing. "I feel like I should know what to do next, but I don't."
Tahoma joined her so they were shoulder to shoulder. "What I meant to say before about ma...she told me, before it happened, she believed Angel's weakness was his human flesh." Renata remembered Keone's own recollection of the conversation but decided against sharing that. "But for you, it's your strength. You have the advantage. You will beat him."
"I hope so," she looked down at her hands, "because if I don't, we'll all suffer for it."
**********
Hours passed until they both fell asleep.
Well, Tahoma did, anyway.
Renata sat up, feeling terrible as a resolve descended upon her heart. Angel was nearer than ever, yet she'd said nothing to her companion, who was blind to it. She didn't see the benefit of stressing him out prematurely, especially as she decided moments ago that he would sit this one out.
She just hoped he would forgive her for what she was about to do.
She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. She didn't mean to awaken him, but he was extremely sensitive to outer movements and sounds in this perilous environmentâshe should have known better than to give herself one last precious moment. She rose and began stepping away.
Slightly groggy, he watched her in confusion as the space between them grew.
"Priya?"
She offered a soft smile. "It's going to be okay."
He sat up, forcing her to move faster. "What are you doing?"
"It's going to be okay," she repeated. "This is my fight."
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Don't even think about leaving me."
In her mind, body, and soul, she did hesitate. Ultimately, she remained steadfast. "I'll end it, I will...don't be too mad at me." She turned, commanding roots from above and below to jut out, creating a barrier between her and the two men.
"No!" He shouted, already charging forward.
She was too much of a coward to look back, but her ears were not immune to the desperation of his pleading. "Renata, let me help. Don't make me stand by and watch."
Several more walls behind her erected upon her own communication with this place. "You won't have toâI'm sorry, Tahoma."
She rose from their tiny sanctuary, feeling devastated as Tahoma's shouts faded away.
She paused, trembling. She looked down at her hands, noticing the black dots forming at the center of her palms. At this moment, she knew more than ever that the clash with Angel was near, very near.
She pushed through her guilt, shoved it down until it was almost indetectable. Instead, she latched onto her fear, but most importantly her conviction.
The air stilled further, and it felt as though everything came to a screeching halt. It was eerie and something she would never forget. This was no longer peaceful. The thick, polluting anticipation was almost too much, yet she knew worse was to come.
She rubbed her own arms and sighed.
Now, I walk.
After only ten or so minutes of walking, she walked from the thickets into an open field. Blue grass for miles upon miles. A still, lifely sky to match.
This was the perfect spot for the final showdown, and there she stood before it, alone.
But in her heart, since her first death, a small part of her knew it would always come down to this. Her, Death, and an endlessly blue expanse.
Her steps carried her just a little bit farther into the clearing. Then, she crouched and leaned her palms against the ground. The grass was hard and didn't move in the slightest against her weight. She pushed harder, and that small pumping motion sent black streaks flying in every direction.
She did it two more times to ensure he knew exactly where she was.
She rose again and didn't bother to look around. There was no need for that. With each passing moment, she became more aware of this place and its innerworkings.
His shout of victory rang out as he received her call.
Angel did not have the capacity to contemplate anything other than taking his power back and ridding this world of Renata, the only being in this universe that managed to challenge him.
She watched in fascination as not twenty feet away did he breal through the grass and rise, as though he'd been there the entire time. Her heart could have rivalled the spirit of a ferocious lion in that moment as she studied the grim reaper.
Despite it all, she admitted he was beautiful with his brown skin and the sharp planes of his face. His expression ruined it all.
His eyes, most of all. They were red, like the undying.
He feigned confidence, even calmness as his voice projected, "I heards his whispers in his dream world."
She wished she could say she was surprised. She was just so exhausted at this point and wanted to get things over with. She wasn't sure she had it in her to conversate with this ruthless, powerful being that was trying to wipe her from the face of the earth. Still, he clearly was ready to answer some questions, and her curiosity drove her to maintain some control on her side. "Were they true?"
He paused. "Keone has always been very perceptive, though impulsive, as you learned first-hand, but yes, it was true, some of it anyway."
Renata laughed without humor. "The undying go against the very idea of what you stand for. Why?"
He looked down at his own body. "I didn't always have a body. None of us did. None of us have, except for me."
She said nothing.
Angel clearly took that as permission to continue his villainous explanation. "People hated me, constantly berated me as though I was not simply part of the equation. Watching life go on, I was expected to take it all, which I was content in doing. As a constant force flying through the universe, I did not mind at all," his face turned remorseful. "I was only curious. I had no intention...I occupied this shell, thought it old enough, long forgottenâbut as soon as it happened, I was stuck."
Renata was reeling.
"I was bound to the human flesh, unable to ever again only be Death. I became something else, an immortal thing cursed to walk the earth, perform its duties and endure the pains of humanity."
Renata closed her eyes briefly. "You can't be human and immortal."
"But I am!" he screamed. "I am a paradox embodied. I am the punchline to the universe's joke. Forever."
She saw the loneliness in his face and his terror in response to it.
Isolation made people do crazy thingsâhim, she realized, being the prime example of what lengths a person will go to not be alone.
"You did this all," she whispered, "just to have some friends."
He didn't bother to argue. "I had no other choice."
"Maybe not," she spat, "but what you're doing now, punishing everyone, killing billionsâit's wrong. You can't do this anymore. Someone had to put a stop to your childish tantrum."
His eyes turned enraged. "And you will do just that? You are not as special as you think you are." He scoffed.
The breath froze in her throat. She'd meant for it to come out as a demand for information rather than a question, "you know why it's me, don't you?"
He nodded, clearly enjoying teasing her. "I wasn't sure at first. I thought you were some random anomaly, another punchline. Did you know it was supposed to be Rocio? She was my most direct genetic link, but she became undyingâthe burden of my power fell on you by default."
His words were heavy punches against her chest. "We're related?"
He shook his head. "You're related to this body."
So, he was right. She really wasn't special. This was simply luck of the draw.
Renata officially had the worst luck in the world. Something about that realization made her snap. "Enough monologue! Enough bullshit! This ends now."
He responded in an unexpected way. "If you end me, you take my place. Do you really want that?"
Renata gasped. He was preying on her very sensitive fears.
"Give it back," he cooed. "And I'll make all the suffering stop. Give it back, and things will go back to the way they were."
She could see he believed his own words. Angel clearly considered himself as the center of the universe, like the puppet master who pulled all the strings. Even then, when the odds were beginning to stack against him, he leaned on the support of his corrupted ego. "You don't want this responcibility. You deserve rest, little one."
Renata tried her hardest to hold back her own tears in response to words that reminded her of the initial version of Angel she encountered. Fatherly. Sympathetic. Comforting. She wondered if that's what he was like before his body. Her voice was hoarse as she replied, "you're right, I do. But I can't rest until I know I've taken you down."
Irritated that his manipulation didn't work, his entire body language stiffened. "So be it."
Showtime.