CHAPTER FORTY

Remaking Fidelity

Through his own haze of searing pain, Fydelis had watched Gareth get cut down and rise again and again, stronger each time. Because the Sunderer could not enter this place, Strife had come to offer assistance, enjoying his warrior for the time he could have him. He moved inside of Gareth's skin as Fydelis once had, but his dance was far more brutal, and unconcerned with the damage to the flesh under its control.

And then came the breaking. The High Bishop had drawn from Fydelis, pulling the power from Empyrean and the Abyss though him, to focus a beam of energy that blasted Gareth across the room and shattered him against a stone pillar. Fydelis had nearly given up as Gareth fell and lay still, his blood pooling beneath him. He'd nearly dropped all resistance and let this monster take what he wanted, and if it had been his choice alone, if he'd been as tainted as they had tried to make him become, then he would have. But he wasn't doing this for himself. He had to resist, as long as he could, because of everything Gareth had struggled for.

For the High Bishop to unlock the gates of the Creator's realm would mean that every soul on this earth would be lost. All of those people in the church for whom Gareth had traded his soul would become little more than fodder to feed this mockery of Faith. Fydelis's will to fight, for the moment, seemed worth it, because again Gareth rose, and came staggering towards him. Strife, he'd noticed, remained outside the circle, unable to enter, and when their gazes met briefly, Fydelis tried his best to thank Razdurel before he returned to Abyss.

When Gareth touched him, the pain was incredible to the point of becoming bliss. He could feel Gareth's stuttering breath on his belly, the waning but desperate grip of the arms around him… And the voice…that final, "I love you," was all that Fydelis needed, to see this done.

He reached down to the chain around Gareth's neck and jerked out the medallion, then he turned the gem outward, and held it to reflect one of the beams.

The resulting explosion was incredible. The gem shattered, sending the beams of light back to their sources, and one by one, each of them blinked out. As each beam was severed, it left behind a burning hole in Fydelis's flesh. Fydelis tried to keep his hold on Gareth, but he was torn free of his arms in the blast, knocked outside the circle, where he rolled over and over, coming to rest against the feet of the broken statue of the Creator. Gareth ended up turned on his side towards Fydelis; his eyes were closed, and his battered, bloodied face was far too pale.

When the last beam was broken, the glow surrounding Fydelis and the High Bishop blinked out. They both dropped heavily to the stone floor; the shattered remnants of the medallion landed between them.

Fydelis watched as the shadows that had once been trapped inside the gem spiraled out, screaming with sounds of inhuman agony as they rose. They took shapes that were vaguely human; specters made of smoke, with hollow eyes that never blinked, and open mouths that never ceased wailing. They did not hesitate, but headed straight for the High Bishop.

Without his power, the High Bishop was a frail, old man, and a bounty of stolen souls. The hungry shadows closed in and began to feast. Fydelis might have had pity for the man, but the High Bishop had committed unforgivable acts; blind, power-mad ambition in the guise of righteousness… And, he'd killed his Gareth.

Fydelis could not move from the etched circle, if, in fact, he could move at all. His body felt broken, and his heart was shattered. He would not be lucky enough to die. All he could do was lie in agony and wait until the Sunderer came to collect him. Knowing Malaketh, he would leave him in this place for months, forcing him to watch Gareth's body decay.

The screaming from the High Bishop had finally stopped as the shadows, now bloated with harvested souls, left nothing behind but charred skeletal remains. They ignored both Gareth and Fydelis, for neither of them had a soul for the taking, but something else seemed to draw their notice. A figure, moving slowly, leaning heavily on a gnarled walking stick, came into slowly from the darkness into view. Fydelis recognized him as the old man from the empty village. Fydelis tried to cry out, to warn the old fool, but it was too late. The shadows, never sated, flew towards him in a tangled blur, like giant, circling birds of prey. The man stopped as they closed in, waiting, it seemed, for their arrival. Barely a hairsbreadth away, the shadows came to a sharp halt. They appeared to falter for a moment, sizing him up. Then, as quickly as they had descended upon him, they tried to retreat. The old man grabbed their tails of smoke, as if they were solid things, and held them in place.

Fydelis's heart leapt, then ached as the old man's form began to change, and golden eyes, older than time, focused on his own.

"F-father…" Fydelis sobbed, having to lower his eyes away from the Creator's face. He, like his dark twin, possessed the curse of such beauty, that even His own children could not look upon His features and comprehend.

The Creator's attention returned to the trapped shadows. Tendrils of white and golden light surrounding him— the wings often depicted by human art— waved sinuously around him like aquatic plants moved by a gentle current. The room became awash with the beautiful and soothing light of the Creator's grace. Fydelis watched as, with infinite patience, the tendrils surrounded the black shadows in His grasp, separating and shaping each lost soul into an ethereal, sparkling likeness of its owner, before setting them free.

Hundreds of them rose; men, women, and children… families reuniting, others alone, but reaching towards the sky. All of them filled the room with warm light and joyful murmurs as they ascended to the heavens, towards Empyrean, where they belonged.

When the last one had been set free, the shadows that contained them spilled down onto the floor; seeping like ink through the cracks in the stone.

"Fidelity… or shall I call you Fydelis now?" The Creator approached Fydelis and stopped just outside of the circle that contained him.

"Father… I-I'm so sorry, but…" Fydelis looked over at Gareth, then back at the Creator's delicate hands. A sob stuck in his throat. "It was for him… everything was for him. I'll understand if you don't forgive me, but please, I beg you… take him… if there is a way…" But Fydelis expected that no amount of pleading would help either of them. Gareth's soul had already been taken, locked away by Malaketh for safekeeping, and it was a great understatement to say the brothers were not on bargaining terms.

"I will not take either of you, Fydelis," the Creator said with infinite kindness.

Although it was just as he'd expected, the truth of the matter was still painful, and Fydelis's chest ached as he struggled not to cry out his despair. "I… understand. Then, what's to become of us?" His gaze shifted towards Gareth's body. "Of him?"

The Creator reached out a hand and Fydelis took it gingerly, shamed by how ugly his black, clawed hand appeared against the pure, flawless beauty of the Creator's own. But it was warm, so warm, and the Creator's calming light moved through him, healing the wounds he'd sustained, though not his broken heart.

"Come with me, child. Let's see to your Gareth." With the Creator's touch, Fydelis was able to cross through the binding circle, and it took all of his effort not to pull free and run immediately to Gareth. The Creator knew this— as He would— and He chuckled softly, letting go of Fydelis's hand so he could go to his beloved Crusader.

Fydelis offered a quick, appreciative nod and darted towards Gareth, dropping down onto the floor beside him.

Gareth's lips had taken on a blue tint, and the skin around his eyes looked bruised. When Fydelis touched his cheek, it was already cooling.

"…Love you… I'm so sorry… so, so sorry…" Fydelis wept, pulling Gareth's limp body into his arms and rocking him, caressing his face.

"Child, I have but one soul left." The Creator stood over them and held out His hand. In His palm rested a small globe of sparkling light, the hues changing as colors swirled and danced together inside of it. "My intention is that you will share it."

The ball of light rose to hover over Fydelis and Gareth, now appearing more fluid in form, changing shape as it hung just above them.

"The only condition is that you shall remain bound to each other, one not existing without the other, and remain bound here, to the realm of humans, until all of their souls have come home."

Forever then, or at least as much of forever that humans would be part of. Would Gareth be comfortable with this arrangement?

"Fydelis." The Creator touched his cheek. "He is yours as much as you are his. You can be certain of your decision."

Fydelis nodded. "Yes, all right… thank you, Father." He could tell his father smiled then, because the chamber was illuminated by a light as warm and bright as the sun.

The glowing, amorphous ball above them separated into hundreds of sparkling droplets that poured down, soaking between them and seeping into their flesh. Fydelis was filled with and incredible warmth that moved through him, caressing him from the inside out.

In his arms, Gareth began to stir.

 

***

The last thing he remembered was cracking open one eye long enough to see the old man from the village appear, then he must have faded into a dream, because he saw his body change into a being of light. When he awoke again, he was being held and filled with a warming bliss that reached through every bone in his body. It reminded him of waking up and stretching after a long, restful sleep. When he opened his eyes, he was looking up into Fydelis's beautiful face.

"Your eyes…" Fydelis's eyes had returned to the color of lilacs, yet his hair was still crimson, and when his lips parted, Gareth noted that his teeth were still sharp. Still a demon, and yet not. "What's… what happened?" Gareth's eyes drifted around the space, at the carnage that remained, and then towards the being who stood nearby, emanating such a soothing aura that he felt its embrace as surely as he felt Fydelis's arms around him.

From what he could make out, it appeared to be the body of a young man, but he was surrounded with glowing ribbons of white and gold light, much as the Sunderer had been surrounded by darkness. Gareth found that his eyes were automatically averted elsewhere when he tried to look up at the face, or perhaps the memory of seeing it was taken back each time. He decided it better to look at Fydelis when he saw the smile spreading across his lovely mouth. Something was different, beyond the fact that they were both very whole and alive.

"The Sunderer…" Gareth rasped.

"Has caused enough trouble." The voice moved through his mind, like whispers and music, and Gareth was quite certain this man could be none other than the Creator. He struggled internally, worried that he should be down on his knees in worship, yet not wanting to leave the security of Fydelis's arms.

"Yes, Gareth," the voice said. "I am He, but your homage is unnecessary. You have served well. You have fought battles of mind, body, and faith. You have suffered much, saved many… and you have loved my own fallen child. Fydelis… Fidelity… was true to his name. Although he was unwise, his punishment was not warranted or just, and not delivered by me."

Gareth reached up a trembling hand, touching Fydelis's cheek. "You didn't cast him out?"

"No," said the Creator. "While I was not entirely pleased that his love for you— a mortal— was so all-encompassing, I could not fault him for his nature." Although Gareth could not watch the Creator's face, he did get the impression that he had inclined his head towards Fydelis.

"Fidelity can be impulsive, and when it is, the outcome is often Regret. It was he who left Empyrean when his temple was destroyed. He left to look for you." The Creator let out a weighty sigh. "By the time I learned of this, it was too late. Fidelity had given up, fallen too far… Malaketh found him and he became… unrecognizable."

"F-Father…" Fydelis whispered what sounded like an apology, dropping his head.

"Shh… It's all right, child." The Creator's voice was kind, and He combed His graceful fingers through Fydelis's red hair. As He did, it became white; the red coloring turning to rose petals, and scattering around them on floor.

"Fydelis, I cannot change you back to what you once were, my son. Sadly, you have become, and shall remain, Regret," the Creator said softly, and the red coloring returned to Fydelis's long hair. "But Regret has always been but one aspect of Fidelity. It is the most negative outcome of an otherwise noble sacrifice. Gareth embodies your lost other half— Attainment."

Gareth grasped Fydelis's hand, squeezing it gently, and Fydelis offered him a sad smile.

The Creator took hold of their linked hands, enfolding them within his own. The tendrils of light spun around their wrists, keeping them joined as the Creator let them go.

"You shall exist as earthly guides of mortals. Together, you represent Fidelity, so together you shall remain." He stepped back slowly, and the light that bound them broke free from His body, turning into a pale satin ribbon.

The Creator then touched them each on the top of the head and Gareth felt as though every burden had been lifted, every doubt or fear shed, and his spirit washed clean. But more than that, he was aware that, for the first time in years, he felt whole.

As the Creator departed, His light fading, Gareth sat up and pressed Fydelis's hand over his heart as he touched Fydelis's chest. Heat and synchronization, each beat perfectly measured between them.

"I hope you don't mind spending eternity with Regret…" Fydelis breathed, the warm blush of life had returned to his cheeks.

Gareth pulled him into his arms and held him, never wanting to let go. "How could I? You're all I've ever wanted."