They stop in the middle of the ocean. Beidou wanders into his cabin at sunrise, looking mildly concerned.
‘Little man’s looking for you. Says he needs you to jump in a hole.’
He knows better than to question it.
The first thing he sees when he emerges onto the deck is Hu Tao, shivering in an oversized coat and clutching a mug filled with a hot drink. Ei and the Wanderer are standing side by side, the latter almost tipping overboard with how far he’s leaning over the railing.
‘Could have contacted me earlier,’ the man is grumbling as he hands a telescope to Ei. ‘But noo, “Tell the captain to stop in the middle of nowhere and explain nothing”. Thanks a lot.’
Ei catches sight of Abrax first. She indicates something in the distance with a nod of her head.
The ship is surrounded by a field of ice floes, creaking and breaking as they bump into each other. The Wanderer turns to him when he leans over for a better view.
‘Wrong direction. To the right.’
His jaw drops.
Right in the middle of an area clear of ice, the ocean ends. Water flows down the sides of a pit, never filling it up entirely as it devours endlessly. He has never been particularly sensitive to cold, but the wind that swirls around the area makes him shiver. Static electricity burrows into his hair, threatening to spark if he gets any closer.
‘I’d expected it to be less blatant,’ says the Wanderer. ‘Well. You know what happens now.’
‘No?’
‘Get in.’
‘I’m not doing that.’
The Wanderer grabs him by the shoulders. For such a small man, his grip is vice-like and painful. ‘You came all the way here to put that miserable creature out of his misery. And now that we’re at his doorstep, you want to opt out?’
‘You want me to jump! Into that thing!’ Abrax says, arms outstretched. ‘You want to sacrifice me to some… abyss-thing…’
‘You won’t die.’ The Wanderer starts climbing over the railings. ‘It’s a dream. Do you remember who I work for?’
‘That’s reassuring. Why don’t you come along?’
The Wanderer scoffs. ‘I need to set up a samsara so you can’t die to him. Not to mention he probably won’t be interested in me enough to let me in.’
‘I can try to join,’ offers Ei. Abrax’s gratitude towards her grows.
He glances at the bottomless pit.
This is the final step. After he’s done with this, he can bid the mess that is his current life goodbye, and move on to… what?
He swallows. The pit doesn’t look as terrifying compared to his now spiralling thoughts. Before he can regret it, he nods at the Wanderer.
‘I’m ready.’
From under her oversized coat, Hu Tao gives him a thumbs up. Ei places a hand on her chest, her head bowed.
‘I might not be able to get in,’ she says. ‘If you find yourself alone… I offer you my blessing.’
Abrax clambers over the railing to join the Wanderer, barely hanging on to the ship by his toes. The pit is still a good distance away, with an ocean full of ice floes between them. Even with his supposed durability, he can’t see himself surviving the swim.
He turns to the Wanderer, a shrug at the ready. The smaller man is already cracking his knuckles.
‘Only one way forward.’
Abrax grabs his outstretched hand. The Wanderer huffs with effort, then leaps off the edge of the ship.
He closes his eyes, expecting to hit freezing cold water and get knocked out by a stray iceberg. But somehow, inexplicably, they are hovering. The Wanderer pants with every painful inch forward.
‘You’re so…’ He readjusts his grip on Abrax’s arm. ‘ …heavy.’
‘Drop me then.’
The Wanderer shoots him an ugly look.
The pit grows closer and closer with each passing second, and Abrax is grateful for the Wanderer’s speed that gives him no time to regret his decision. The air smells of sulphur, and when they are suspended directly above it, a second, worse smell hits him. Decay.
He looks down. An iceberg tips over the edge of the pit, and he follows its line of movement into the depths. If it even makes a sound when it hits the bottom, he can’t hear it over the force pressing itself into his ears, making his head spin. The static electricity in his hair sparks to life, responding to the balethunder that lines the void below. Even though he cannot see it through the darkness, he knows that something in that void has opened its single eye to stare back, taking the faintest interest in his existence.
The Wanderer clears his throat. ‘Well. Good luck, I suppose.’ His voice is oddly distant, barely audible through the buzzing that now fills his head, burrows into his throat.
He drops Abrax into the void.
~~~
He stays conscious for once, falling through a red sky with a dying sun. His left leg crunches when he hits the ground, pain shooting up the limb. It hurts, but he can already feel it beginning to repair itself.
He staggers to his feet. If he waits for a while, Ei should show up. He looks towards the sky.
Moments pass. His leg has healed, though it still hurts when he puts any weight on it.
No one shows up. He sighs. All within his expectations.
He takes a step forward, landing ankle-deep in a puddle.
He looks down and almost gags.
The liquid is a deep red, with the unmistakable smell of iron. He takes a step back, looking for any alternative paths.
His other foot lands in another puddle. Whatever little blood-free land he’s standing on is slowly surrendering to the crimson tides. He needs to pick a direction, and fast.
He squints into the distance, and—there. Standing in the middle of an island is a wooden shack, the only landmark in this desolate landscape. He takes a deep breath and begins to walk.
The depth of the blood doesn’t increase as he goes. A small comfort. He shivers every time the liquid soaks into his socks, weighing down every step.
The shack is further than it looks, or he’s faster than he thinks in his effort to get out of this blood puddle. Finally reaching dry land, he leans on the door to catch his breath.
Then, when his heart beats normally again, he opens the door and gasps out loud.
He knows this house. He woke up here once to find a boy staring at him, a boy who gave him the figurine that’s now stashed in his bag back on the ship. Only that house didn’t have blood coating its floor and walls, and the twisted mass of flesh stashed in the fireplace.
He holds his breath as he goes deeper in, a destination already in mind. The remnants of an arm twitch at him from the fireplace. Almost by second nature, his feet take him down the corridor, stained with as much red as the rest of the house, and stop before a completely red door.
Before he can regret it, he reaches forward and opens it.
He lets the door swing open as he looks around cautiously. An empty bed frame is the first thing he takes in, then the equally bloodstained walls, then the chair.
The chair is occupied.
Someone slumps forward in the seat, reddish-orange hair obscuring his face from view. His hands are clasped together as if in prayer, a bow slung over the back of his chair. Rattling breaths are drawn from ruined lungs, the figure’s shoulders shaking with the effort of staying alive.
Abrax steps forward, trusting in the sound of the breathing to mask his footsteps. As soon as he crosses the threshold, the figure’s head snaps upwards.
Even before he sets eyes on dead blue eyes, teeth bared in an imitation of a smile, he already knows what this man looks like. Abrax is frozen to the spot as he stands up, stretching lazily, a languid yawn exposing sharpened teeth.
Tartaglia’s gaze settles on the person in his room, his grin turning almost predatory as he picks up his bow.
‘How bold of you.’ An arrow of water forms in his other hand. Abrax tugs on the door. Stuck.
‘To wear my face, in this domain.’
Abrax trips over his own feet when he retreats. Tartaglia steps closer.
‘You know very well that this place offers the same semblance of mercy to all of us.’
He lunges forward, arrow in hand. Abrax screams before the arrow buries itself in his throat.
As he slides to the ground, his vision rapidly dimming, Tartaglia shakes his head.
‘Just when I thought this place would throw something new at me…’
He kicks Abrax in his side, and he is no more.
~~~
Abrax wakes up on a deck, clutching his unblemished throat.
The Wanderer is leaning over him, shaking his head. Somehow, that is the sight that snaps him out of it.
‘He didn’t even talk to me.’
‘Nice to see that he hasn’t changed,’ the Wanderer grumbles. Abrax stands up, rubbing his head. Hu Tao waves at him from under her coat.
‘Where’s Ei?’
‘She fell into the ocean when she tried to follow you. They’re warming her up in the cabins. Looks like you’re the only one he lets enter.’
Abrax could have cried from frustration. The Wanderer looks almost sympathetic at the wail he lets out.
‘I didn’t say this would be easy.’
‘I know!’ he wails, waving his arms. ‘I just don’t understand! This is the guy Morax wants to bring back? Why did I agree to this?’
The Wanderer lets him finish his frenzied walk across the deck, carefully avoiding his flailing arms.
‘So,’ he says, already climbing over the railings, ‘ready to go again?’
Abrax sighs. ‘Yes.’
~~~
When he lands for the second time, it is directly in front of the house. For the first time, he feels too vulnerable, itching for a weapon to hold in his hand. He should have borrowed Beidou’s sword.
He barely dodges the spear that is flung at him as soon as he opens the door.
This time, Tartaglia sits by the hearth, his hands extended towards the fireplace as if warming them. He spares Abrax the slightest turn of his head, a shadow of that predatory grin curling his lip.
‘That’s a new one.’ He stands up. ‘I do like a determined opponent.’
‘I suppose diplomacy isn’t an option,’ Abrax says through gritted teeth. Tartaglia laughs.
‘That would be awfully boring, wouldn’t it?’
When he lunges this time, Abrax is prepared.