submaween

The frosted air of winter nipped at Clem’s nose as snow crunched beneath his heavy feet, the boots he was wearing only amplifying the noise. He was slightly underdressed, garnering only a sweater and thick cargo pants tucked into his boots, and the gloves he wore were fingerless, welcoming in the sharp cold of winter to nip at his fingertips. He would have cared more if his mind wasn’t focused on the nausea that chewed at his throat and stomach.

Clem knew what he had come here to do. Once and for all, it was time to depart from this life of loss and torment. This life of isolation.

As Clem neared the cave’s entrance, now open and inviting, he longed for the warmth of home, if he could still call it that after this final visit.

It would be empty, the glasses of feigned freedom finally lifted from his head— it would no longer be home. The detachment of all things that had gone down there would provide for a desire to leave and go back to his former life, one where he would live normally and finish his degree, finding a monotonous job in journalism or something of the sort.

Oh, how it hurt; as Clem entered the cave’s entrance, a sharp pang of guilt struck him, overwhelming him with the vivid images of Asher’s violent demise. The violent demise that was his causing. The one that took Clem’s faith with it slowly.

It had been months, but it still hurt every time he entered the blue-glowing room, his footsteps ringing out. He shook off his boots, shivering when his bare feet touched the cold stone beneath him.

The tall male turned to the water that stood so elegantly in the middle of this natural cathedral, casting its shine on everything it touched, and exhaled shakily.

With his fists at his side, Clem almost regretted in the moment coming to say goodbye— maybe he should have never come back. Maybe he should have stayed home with his shadows, or, his friends, and sworn to never offer words of peace. They would understand; they would have to understand, as he was their leader, or, rather, he had been.

However, coming back felt right. Saying goodbye to the place where he gained so much power and lost so much love felt like a need. So bittersweet, it was, to bid farewell to the Gods who shifted his life entirely from its original point.

Though, it was a wonder how Okyanus itself would take this. A cult leadership cut short, with little to no expansion across land like former leaders, was almost insulting to a god like that, no?

Clem swiped a strand of dark hair from his face, fingers brushing against his olive skin, and bent down. He swallowed hard as he kneeled at the water, or what was essentially the blue blood of all who had lost their lives.

“I am sorry,” Clem muttered. “I hope you can forgive me with what little sympathy you have.” He shivered, fingers moving to brush the water and stopping right before they could breach the surface.

The tall male, his dark eyes fluttering shut, began to weep, withdrawing his fingers and clutching his hands at his chest.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said louder. “That I couldn’t fulfill my duty.” My love is thicker than my desire for leadership, and I’ve lost too much of my heart to this, he added inside of his head.

Clem stood abruptly, the air becoming thick, tense. It was too much to bear. Despite the impossibly chilled winter air, it somehow got colder.

“Goodbye, Okyanus Peminum Darah.” Clem’s voice was stern, commanding. “I hope you will be gentle with me in my next life.”

Clem turned away, ignoring the tugging that beckoned him to touch the water, something that his former god had used to manipulate his mind and thoughts. He wouldn’t get that satisfaction today. His nausea grew.

When Clem began to walk away, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, like he had shaken off a persistent itch. He took a few solid steps toward his boots, welcoming the bittersweet feeling of saying goodbye to this place he called a haven for so long. It was finally over— the loss. He would go home, talk to everyone, and it would all be okay. His gaze struggled to settle after a few more steps.

His vision blurred and dizziness overcrowded his head, and, knowing how physical feelings could be manipulated by Okyanus, he persisted forward.

Stumbling, a growing bodily discomfort tugged at his torso, and he managed to make it to one of the stone walls, holding himself up with one arm as he clutched his chest with the other. Tears stung the boy’s eyes.

The cold air chewed through Clem’s body, and he struggled to make it to his boots, which he stepped into with effort, forcing one foot in before doing the second, nearly toppling over.

Gasping for breath, the man barely made it to the step upward into the first chamber that led into this cave before he tripped over his own feet, stumbling backward and landing on the hard stone with a nauseating thud. He shifted to his side, then to his belly, attempting to push himself up with what little strength he had.

“you— stop,” Clem mumbled in a haze to an unseen entity through gritted teeth, vision creeping away, body shaking violently. Before he could speak again, he choked and sputtered, vomiting on the cold ground before him.

Just before losing consciousness, Clem recognized a familiar dark figure, no longer jaded with glory, its body and face crystal clear despite his quickly-fleeting and blurred sight.

“Don’t touch me,” Clem gasped through tears. “You can’t.”

Stepping forward, the dark figure reached out an impossibly long hand, its piercing eyes cutting through Clem like blades. It delivered a final, cold touch.

Clem had no strength to flinch away, let alone flinch, and choked out a sob before falling into dark, cold hands of nonexistence.

——

“Heart attack,” Ace mumbled, vision impossibly empty, his golden-brown hair falling over his pale face as he stood at the end of the table— the spot where Clem often planted himself before this tragedy. “They said it was a heart attack.”

Through choked sobs, Dove got out a single “no,” before placing her face in her hands.

Mawar hadn’t been seen since Clem went missing, locked up in one of the rooms upstairs for days while they searched. He knew it was over before the fifth hour of his absence had come. He was taking it the worst, having known Clem since the early years of their childhood.

Grace stared ahead at Ace, who locked eyes with her. The two held that contact for several seconds before Ace spoke, no attempt to comfort the crying Dove, whose long hair sprawled out around her as she wept, face in arms, at the table.

“He would want us,” Ace began, voice trembling. “To continue on this path of faith and loyalty to Him.”

Grace stared blankly, her face terribly pale and dull despite her usual comforting demeanor. “We need to tell the others before they find out on their own,” she mumbled. “Our leader is gone.”

Despite the awful cries still streaming from Dove, Ace nodded slowly, staring forward, through the single window at the opposite end of the rectangular, clothed table. For a moment, he swore he could see a tall, dark figure standing amidst the trees at the edge of the clearing outside, its impossibly long arm lifted as if reaching for him. Blinking, it was gone.

“We will carry on this honor,” Ace said slowly. “For Clem.”