Chapter 84: Sounds of Silence

Chapter 84: Sounds of Silence

BOOK II

A PROPHET, A CRIPPLE, AND A KING

Chapter 84

Sounds of Silence

AAAAAGGGHHHH!!!!! how many times has he heard that scream now? Innumerable, he was certain. And it hurt just as much as every other time. It cut directly through his heart like a sword, causing tears to swell into his eyes.

He tried to stop it from happening every time--tried to toss his body in front of hers... but he never could. He was too slow. By the time he could move, she was already riddled with splinters like bullet holes, bleeding, crying, screaming, terrorized. He tried saving others, but couldnt. Every single time, he watched them bleed and scream in horror.

You have died.

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Regrets poured, but he was numb. What horrified every fiber of his soul was that even amidst the despair and anguish and the sheer dread of the moment... he was... relieved. He'd moved past the hell. He escaped the inferno that haunted his soul for what felt like infinity. And yet, juxtaposed with that relief was the ever-growing guilt. It started as a molehill, grew into a mountain, and was now a ladder reaching toward the stars.

AAAAAGGGHHHH!!!! once again, the scream cut through him like a blade. But he didnt bleed. They were the ones bleeding.

Why? he mumbled at the sky, beyond which he suspected the cruel and sadistic Gods lived. He posed the question that haunted his soul--why was he fine? Why was he entirely unharmed? Why was it that everyone else was bleeding, dying, haunted by pains beyond pains... and he was fine? There wasnt a spec of blood on him--not his own, anyway. There was no wound he could point to and scream it hurts. All his wounds, all his scars... were invisible.

"S-S-Sylas?!! I--I can't see!! I CAN'T SEE!!" Ryne screamed out, her voice cracking like thunder. The bolt pierced Sylas' mind and bent him. He knelt, surrendering to the cruelty. The dust swirled, kicked up by the still-raging winds. The hand had just disappeared, leaving in the wake chaos that had neither rhyme nor reason to it. It was all akin to random acts of sadistic barbarity, inhumane malice stemming from the cosmic venom.

He escaped one hell into another, one arguably even worse than the last. In the last one, at the very least, it was only him who was suffering, painful though it may have been. But now... now his hell was watching others suffer while he had no wound to show for the pandemonium they experienced. He reached into the belt, pulled out the dagger, and slit his throat.

Not wanting to accept the reality, he continued killing himself--hoping that if he did it enough times, hed force the Gods to grant him a reprieve, to pull him further back into the past before he pushed the button. Before he condemned everyone he loved in this world into a cruel, unbending reality. And if not that, he hoped hed eventually run out of lives--he didnt want to continue. Not from here. Not knowing what he had done. Not seeing what his stupidity, his sheer inability to think past the immediate future, had caused.

It was all his fault--that much was evident. Beyond the hand that showed up out of nowhere, it was his fault. He could have waited. Two seconds--literally two seconds. He could have settled. Waited for a while to see whether there were more surprises. But he didnt. He never did. Not in his life on Earth, and not here. Not once. He convinced his mind to trust the system--the system wanted him to succeed, after all. It granted him immortality. It wanted him to do the tasks. It would never fail him.

However, the system wasnt a mind of its own--and it certainly didnt account for those around him. He was not alone in his journey. And his success... he didnt want it to hinge on the suffering, pain, and death of others.

T-t-the Prince? E-everyone? Ryne mumbled suddenly. Is--is everyone fine? What happened, Sylas? What happened?

... dont worry about the others, he said as Derrek approached the two of them.

What the--

Could you... put her to sleep? Sylas asked Derrek directly.

W-what? Put me--no! No, I dont want--

Yes, Derrek replied immediately, understanding Sylas intentions.

No, dont put me--

Its for the best, Sylas whispered as gently as he could, caressing the top of her head. Rest for a little while.

Nooo-- Rynes protest, however, was in vain. Derrek put his hand gently against the girls forehead and put her to sleep. Sylas caught her and kept her in place, glancing at Derreks arm--to his shock, the bloody, gored hole wasnt... bleeding.

... Im sorry, Derrek, he said.

Nothing you could have done, the man responded, forcing a smile. Nothing any of us could have done, really. That hand... was beyond us.

... Sylas bit his lip once more until it bled, lowering his head in shame. Im sorry. Im so, so, sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry... he was slipping back once more.

Hey, dont worry about it! Derrek clamored. No prophet ever foresaw everything. Come on, now. We dont have time to sit around. We need to help the others. Ill have some men carry Ryne off into the ward immediately. And since you seem to be relatively fine, Ill need you to work for ten men. Do you understand me?

Yeah, Sylas mumbled, his voice void of emotion as he handed Ryne over to Derrek to keep her still. You should go rest as well. Youve still lost a lot of blood.

Hey, Derrek, realizing something was off, called for Sylas, forcing the latter to turn and face him. Derrek, a man who was ready to fight the Thrall, winced and nearly pulled back. The eyes that stared back at him... were dead. A pair of emotionless husks. Are you... are you alright?

... take care of her, Sylas said, turning forward and walking away. Well chat later.