This time, Cornelius responds, “A Seeker is the devil in charge of overseeing and managing the many evils of the world.”
I close my eyes for a minute, suddenly confused. “Wait. So, am I a Seeker or the devil?”
“Both,” Jacob responds. “You would have been in this position far sooner had your path not been forced erroneously. Basically, this vacancy has been waiting foryou,hence the complete shitshow society currently lives in.”
I raise my brows at him but say nothing, and after a few moments of silence, Cornelius says, “You were always a Seeker, the Devil of Devils, and now it’s time for this truth to be revealed to the masses. It’s time for you to take your rightful place and begin the arduous task of righting the imbalance between good and evil.”
“So, I’m like the accountant of bad things?” I reply snarkily, earning a dirty look from Cornelius. I grin impishly, and he shakes his head, so I ask more seriously, “But I can’t simply eliminate all of it as it comes up?”
“No, that’s not how it works.”
“Why the hell not?” I sputter.
Cornelius sighs heavily, his eyes narrowing, and it’s Jacob who says, “Without evil, there is no good.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Jacob smiles, and we fall into companionable silence as we trek onward. I lose track of how much time goes by, but then, suddenly, Cornelius’s arm shoots out in front of me, causing me to pull up short. “We’re here.”
Sure enough, we’re right on the edge of the scorched ground where Gemma and Zion vanished from. I eye it suspiciously, pulling my sword free and using the tip to poke at the charred ground. Tentatively, I edge closer, first with my toe, then with one foot. When nothing happens, I walk into the circle, turning slowly as I ask, “Do you think this is the way in?”
“Hard to say, really,” Jacob responds from beside me. “But like most terrible ideas, there’s only one way to find out.”
I give him a bland look, not appreciating his pessimism, but also acknowledging his statement's validity. Cornelius stands on my other side, not disagreeing, so I flip my grip on the hilt of my weapon, so the blade is pointed downward.
Holding the sword with both hands, I lift it in front of me, then slam it downward, using all my strength to drive the blade's tip into the middle of the scorched ground.
But nothing happens.
Tightening my grip on the handle, I give it a twist, wrenching it around with a guttural scream of rage and frustration.
Still, nothing happens.
Vivian.
My lip curls, my jaw clenches. The sword hums in my hands.
Vivian.
Tickles of laughter nudge the far recesses of my brain, that full-body twitch reverberating through me as reality short circuits then boomerangs on itself. A zap of electricity wraps me in its embrace, my torso flexing inward in response, my physical being frozen, paralyzed in that tight space where my eternal truth lives.
I manage to blink, once, twice, then I’m catapulted upward, somersaulting through the air in a chaotic trajectory that is neither slow nor fast, neither here nor there.
Vivian.
Blinking again, I remain suspended, peering down at myself and my two comrades now naught more than tiny figures in a hell's cape that reeks of nostalgic familiarity. Cornelius and Jacob move slowly, their hands and feet fighting an invisible enemy as I stare out across the landscape, smiling, waiting.
Violence crushes down, mayhem a sticky vortex around me with Cornelius and Jacob still fighting to get close, though it is fruitless.
Because it’s not me. I’m no longer there.
Screaming, I reach, my hands stretching, my fingertips scratching the thick air as I attempt to force my way back, but I remain stagnant. Stuck. Completely incapable of saving anyone, least of all a self that doesn’t exist, but still, I scream and scream and scream.
Then, it all just—stops.
I’m once again standing on that scorched ground, my sword tip wedged in deep, the grip of my hands so tight my knuckles are white. Cornelius moves closer to me, his hand touching my forearm lightly, confusion in his voice. “Vivian?”
I yank the blade from the ground, sheath it in its scabbard as I turn to him, stating, “I know what to do.”
