849 Death-Defying, Part At first, I didn’t know what to say… and after looping back what she had just said to me a fair few times in my head, I still didn’t know what to say.
The cat’s out of the bag, and the most open secret out of all secrets was finally revealed, and surprise, surprise: Irene was trying to wake up our dearly departed slumbering phoenix.
Shocker, I know.
Yet she just had to tack on that added detail, that little twist to the whole thing that went and turned what before was a mystery so obvious from a mile away into something I had tripped face-first into the curb onto.
That I was a vital necessity, the final piece of the puzzle to said mystery itself.
Felt more like a punchline than an actual twist. She had to be joking, right? A final, ‘gotcha, prank ya’, to end the year on? Maybe if I laughed hard enough, it would be.
Sadly, Irene didn’t seem to be telling a funny joke here.
“Do you…” Irene began again and faltered, before starting over… affirming more to the fact that if this were a joke, she would have rehearsed it perfect, wouldn’t she? “...what are the things you know about Lady Enstar?
Trivia time, great. I didn’t study. Guess I’m going off on memory here.
.....
“She’s… the Goddess of death, isn’t she?” I said, trying to sound more confident than I actually was. “Or at least from what I can gather.”
“Lady Enstar is no Goddess. Though, I don’t blame you for thinking so,” Irene said, shifting in her seat, her composure, and began sounding more like a teacher. “Remember, there are only seven Divines – well – eight seemingly, if including your mother. To us, Lady Enstar isn’t regarded as a deity, she’s… beyond that, actually.”
Beyond a God?
“What is she then?”
“Simply put, she’s death. Just death. Not a being, but a fundamental aspect of existence itself. She is everywhere, in everything. Encompassing all realms. If it has an end, she is that end. Stars fade, flowers wilt, and to nothingness, to her, they return. You want to be grandiose, you could say that she is our afterlife… where everything and everyone winds up… in the end.”
I took a big swig of the soda in my hand, I needed it. If we’re gonna be talking incomprehensible, abstract entities of death, a bit of fizz chugging in the veins goes a long way.
“So…” I muttered quietly, tracing a finger along the metal rims of my drink. “Why is she a ‘she’ then? If she’s not even a being, why does everyone refer to her as such?”
“Because it’s how – it – she decides to manifest herself for some reason, in the event she chooses to,” Irene answered. “In Kronocia, there are records, a few instances throughout history of people that manage to glimpse upon death itself, and according to their accounts, it’s always in the distinct silhouette of a woman. In time, as more instances crop up, we’ve come to regard her as Enstar, the Sweet Lady of the Dead.”
I know that title of hers. I always thought there was something funny about it.
“Sweet?”
“As in, her presence,” Irene clarified. “Those fortunate, or unfortunate enough to encounter her, described every second as bliss, gentle, the most peaceful that one could feel. Hence, the moniker.”
“And her name is…?”
“Taken from Elvish. One of the few words with an actual definitive translation. You can take a guess as to what it means if you’re feeling clever.”
“Sweetiepie? Honeybun?” I offered up my concrete theories. “Going by her title alone, it’s something along those lines, isn’t it?”
“Very good,” Irene gave a smirk. The teacher approves. “Enstar means ‘to embrace’, or ‘to hold forever’, quite straightforward.”
Straightforward, she says… and here I was still with a mountaintop of questions and bewilderment.
“Hold on, you say this Enstar encompasses all realms? Including…?”
“Of course, she exists in yours,” she said less kindly. “Probably by a different expression. A different way. Grim Reaper, you call it? The white light, whatever… it’s just that in your world, your death goes by many names, but it always refers back to just one. Also, you’re a Speaker, aren’t you? You know the pain, you speak dead people. Why are you doubting her existence here?”
“Well, considering what I am, I don’t exactly count, do I?”
“Speakers aren’t exclusive to people like us, you know?” Irene said, a chuckle leaving from a half-smile. “You don’t think all those people over the years claiming to be able to help you ‘commune with your loved ones’ are all charlatans, do you?”
“They… aren’t?”
“Well, they are,” she said. “But only those you see parading it around like it’s a gift – it isn’t. You obviously know it isn’t. Believe me, people can go their whole lives never knowing they are one, the ability isn’t exactly a flip of a switch. Then on the flip side, it’s also extremely easy to pretend to be mysterious, magnificent… spout a bunch of nonsense, and have thousands believing. Your world isn’t the only one with its greedy pretenders.”
“Hmm…” I stared down at the glossy silver finish of my can, seeing it warp and stretch the dubiousness on my expression. “And the Blightfall? That’s a thing from Enstar, isn’t it? When people die too much? Why doesn’t that happen naturally in my world?”
“You’re saying your world doesn’t have its sudden, inexplicable tragedies? Really?” Irene asked slowly, slow enough for me to play catch up, and thinking on it just a little longer, I caught up alright. “Your world has its great losses of life, and we have ours. Just because they arrives in different ways, doesn’t mean they’re actually any different.”
So far everything I was hearing sounded like the most logical, sensible nonsense I’ve ever heard… teetering on the edge of absurdity to scoff it all off, but hanging back just close enough to a semblance of sense to take it all absolutely seriously.
Regardless of what I think, however, I had to believe her. At this point, the absurd is just a bitter pill I have to constantly swallow…. and not gonna lie, everything I’ve heard so far was genuinely interesting and all, but all the same, it didn’t seem to be leading us anywhere forward.
Like, what does this have to –
“What does this have to do with you?” Irene asked, peering straight at me with amusement as if sensing the sentiments in the back of my stare. “It’s as I said before, Lady Enstar is everywhere and everything, even this very room’s teeming with her influence. I simply intend to get rid of it.”
“Get rid of – ?” I must have heard her wrong. “Sorry, what?”
“Ria’s asleep, because Lady Enstar put her to sleep, and the only reason she won’t wake up is because she chooses not to wake up when prompted, and as such, Lady Enstar retains her hold over her.”
I could hear a particular edge in her voice building, rising as she revealed more and more of her intentions.
“But say – for a moment, a few hours maybe, Lady Enstar isn’t here to do that? If, somehow, we could keep her away from this place, banish this home of her influence. Her beguilings, her hold over Ria, for a moment, for a few hours hopefully, there isn’t anything to keep her in slumber.”
I never felt myself blink a blink so stiff and heavy.
“And that’s where you come in...” she finished.
I blinked again... even heavier this time.
“You want me to get rid of Death?”
“It’s a lot more dramatic when you put it that way,” she muttered out, that edge in her voice peaking, hoping. “But yes – I want you to get rid of Death.”
Oh.
Never mind about that last part. Turns out, this was the actual plot twist all along. A wist hidden behind a twist.
What a twist.