Basil steadied her breath, as she regained her composure.
Once again, Basil was aware that she stood alone before the axeman’s block. And though nearly two decades had passed, the memory was as insightful and crisp as a mirror.
She alone was left to pray for Quell’s soul. And for her own. Standing upon a mass grave.
“In a thousand ways you were right,” Basil spoke softly.
“But none of that matters anymore.”
“Get some rest, Quell. Lindsay and Felix are waiting for you. You don’t have to remain here. You’re free… you’re free now,” She pleaded into the afternoon mist.
“I’m all that is left to remember the man you were.” She said, her voice choking. “You are free to be the man you always wanted to be. Brother.”
But nothing changed. The hanging tree still stood, and the blade still shone. And here stood the remains of the town, little more than a perpetually cursed monument to man’s follies. Basil brushed the sweat and tears from her face and sighed.
“Will I ever truly understand you, Quell?” She whispered.
As she left the town boundaries and followed the winding path towards home, she felt an unshakable emptiness. There was still the rustling of trees, as her pursuers watched her curiously.
Now is no time to dwell on the past. My work day isn’t finished. We can mourn when the work is done.
And the work is never done.
As she approached the edge of her territory and left the old woods behind, Basil found herself among a pack of small mammalian creatures running in the field and feeding on grasses and weeds.
They resembled Old World Terran hares, but with peculiar antlers poking out of their heads.
Joy Bunnies, as they were commonly known, were drawn to positive emotions and were said to be popular house pets in the old days. The days before the great fires washed away the cities and towns.
Nowadays, large flocks of them run free in the Feylands and on the edges of the campus of the Marble Sanctum, bordering the dying fields. They were necessarily livestock, but Basil found no small irony in culling a species with “Joy” in their names.
She took a deep breath as she clicked on the jammer on her wrist and passed through the shimmering veil. The barrier between her sanctuary and the outlands.
The field stretched from the hill that Basil stood upon up, to a shadowy edge and another tree line. On its farthest point was home.
The edge of the barricades. A simple utility road led to the front gate. It was a sanctuary for much of the wildlife. Passing through the barrier was a one way trip, but as long as they were wary of the shimmer, they’d persist.
“Estimating 150 breeding pairs this season, we should have a fruitful culling before the winter sets in.” As Basil spoke into the recorder to log notes on the flock, one of the bunnies hopped onto her lap.
“Maybe she’s right. Perhaps it’s possible to expand the boundary line again.” Basil struggled to find the words. As much as I'm the last one to admit it, things have been peaceful for a very long time.
“Perhaps-”
As Basil observed the small creatures, one of the kits ran across the field and through the barrier. For a moment here was a slight shimmer as it passed to the darker edge of the plain.
The animal looked back in confusion for a moment, trying to push back against the near invisible wall separating it from its pack.
There was a trill of panic, before a shadowy arm swung out from the treeline and snatched it. Followed by an ear shattering shriek and silence.
Basil glanced away and shuddered. As she looked up, dozens of pairs of eyes peered out from the tall grass and trees across the field. Scarlet, gold, and violet, staring back.
And at the edge of the clearing, painted in blood on the dried grass, were the words “BASIL IT HUNGERS.”
Basil paused the tape as she took in the spectacle.
“That’s new.” She said, deeply disturbed.
She felt her stomach turn as she tried to push the thought out of her head. Oof. Or maybe I pretend I didn’t just see that and I tell Vie maybe next year. “Yeah, let's go with that one.”
Basil cringed slightly and pulled her hood back over her head. “Yikes.”
“As I was saying. Everything seems fine here. Nothing out of the ordinary to report,” Basil reported to the tape. She caught herself frowning. “And as much as I would love to just enjoy an early retirement, there’s just too much to do in the day.”
“Didn’t even have time to do a dry goods pickup with all the ruckus.” She muttered to herself off the record.
“As I gaze upon the great maw at the edge of the boundary, I must remind myself that each pair of eyes is an individual. One whose needs are driven by hunger and fear. By circumstances out of their control.”
Basil paused, contemplating her recorded words.
She slipped back through the shimmer and into the woodlines, passing along the border back towards the main entrance of the estate, and away from the exposure of the dying fields. She didn’t fear being outside the barrier, but she did keep a wide berth between her and the exposed livestock fields.
Though the Lamie were known for their violence, Basil knew they were more interested in getting her attention than harming her.
She had not granted the Vampires a guest’s right, so they could not invade her home.
Or so she told herself, as she straddled the boundaries of domains. That alone was peace of mind.
But, that’s not my responsibility. We’ve all got problems we’re working through. Because if there was actually something wrong, they’d just tell me right?
She looked upon the front gate of the Sanctum, where the marble pillars stood as a symbol of the old world. While she could cross at any point of the intangible barrier that separated this small oasis from the woods, this was the end of her shift. She would cross back here, because it was expected of her to do so.
Because in life, Basil reminded herself, sometimes you must exist if only to keep up appearances.
“It’s been nearly 20 years since society fell, since the great baptism. When the Old Terran government and its weapons broke forth and wiped the bulk of humanity from our world.” Basil spoke as she walked, circumnavigating the barrier.
It shimmered as the wind grazed it, and the sun seemed to reflect ever so slightly upon its surface.
“And 17 since the second trial of our people, which in the old prophecy was made true, and wiped out the rest.”
And in that time, I… we… have committed daily sins a thousand times greater than Quell.
And yet, the world moves on. The sky did not smite us. The winds do not judge us.
The curses and lies proliferated by my forebears came not to fruition,
Because in truth, we do not matter to them. We matter not to the blind eternities, or what lies beyond them.
Lives hold no value greater than the purpose we project onto it.
“But I'm still here.” Basil paused. “No,” She corrected herself. “We’re still here.”
“We are nearing the solstice. Marking 18 years since I committed the gravest of sins.”
“And while some might mourn the end of the world. I remind myself that everything must change, and that's alright.”
“There is no end. There was never an ending. Not happy, not romantic, not tragic.”
There is no end.
“Signing off.” Basil clipped the recorder back to her chest rig and shook the dust and dirt off her cloak. With a deep breath she took a step through the shimmering void and breathed in the smell of home.
“Done early today, are we?” A familiar voice rang out.
Vie stood at the gate, broom in hand. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and curtsies.
Vie’s Fey features showed through her terran attire. Her hair was the color of autumn, shifting across shades of gold, red, and copper in the sunlight. She was clad in a day dress, draped by a well tailored cloak, with every piece of her clothing meticulously pressed and hemmed.
The unmistakable features of the Fair Folk shone through her modest attire. Her breath barely above a sigh as Basil approached her.
“Good afternoon, Vie,” Basil said with a yawn.
“Hello Mother,” Vie said softly.
“You would not believe the day I've had.”
Comments (1)
See all