Gabriel’s roommate never sleeps in his own bed. Sobriety always seemed to spend the night at someone else’s place, or on a park bench, or somewhere else entirely, preferring to ‘feel the wind on his skin’, though Gabriel could not tell if he was joking when he said that.
This evening, however, he collapsed into a humming pile of chains and eyes atop his covers and began to snore. Gabriel switched off the lights for him, not wishing to disturb his rest, but he is sorely regretting that decision. He itches to switch on the ceiling lights, the controls inches from where he is curled up with his phone, squinting at a too-bright screen. However, waking Sobriety up is not a risk he wishes to take.
Gabriel stares down at his screen, displaying a still-blank email. He titled it ‘Greetings’, and the Ferryman’s address seems to be working, so what is stopping him? Cowardice, the answer comes quick. He is scared.
But if he never sends this message, they will never meet again.
Gabriel locks his shoulders and begins to type. He begins with This is Gabriel. You may remember me from— before backspacing. Of course the Ferryman remembers him, broken promises and heartbreak. I’m sorry. Did that make him sound desperate? Or insincere? Everything would be so much easier if they could meet in person, but first he had to—
His phone rings and he almost drops it in shock, glancing quickly at Sobriety as he sets his phone to silent. He looks at the screen and his stomach sinks. He still has one week. Why are they calling now?
Fingers trembling, Gabriel barely manages to hit the answer button.
‘Councillor.’
‘One week left, Gabriel. Remember what you promised us.’
‘Forgive me, Councillor.’ He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and continues— ‘I ask for more time.’
The silence on the other end chills him to the bone.
‘Why?’ Businesslike, clipped. ‘You betray the Father’s will.’
‘I believe I am close to finding that lost soul,’ he says, trying to keep his hands steady. ‘I have found a way to contact him.’
The Councillor makes a strange noise, somewhere between a cough and a laugh. ‘But you haven’t contacted him, yes?’
‘I assure you, Councillor, I am very close to a result.’
‘Very well. On one condition.’
‘Anything, Councillor.’
He can tell that he is going to regret that. The Councillor hums, thinking—
‘You’re getting sloppy. Slow. Perhaps this will incentivise you to work faster.’
A sharp pain passes through his chest. Gabriel suppresses a gasp, doubling over, bracing himself against the floor with his free hand.
‘Every day that passes by without you finding your lost soul, more and more of your divine light will be stripped away from you.’ Gabriel bites back a scream. Something is ripping clean in two—he can hear it, clear as day—but the room is silent except for the whirring of the ceiling fan.
‘That gives you… how much time? I believe you can figure it out. You’re smart enough to get into college.’ The mockery in his tone is unmistakable. ‘But don’t worry. Return to us at any time, and we can restore you to your former glory. For now, reap the rewards of your foolishness.’
He hangs up. Gabriel collapses to the floor, clutching at his chest, trying to stay as silent as possible.
Something is whining like a wounded animal and it cannot be him.
Gabriel curls up, wings forming a barrier around him, as if that could somehow stop the blades burrowing into his chest and heart.
~~~
‘Right! I think that’s it.’
Gabriel lets his cramping wrists drop to his lap, letting out a sigh of relief as Mirage turns off the microphone mounted on the edge of the keyboard. She hums a tune that has now been drilled into his head, looking happier than anyone else in the room.
V2 places her guitars back into her wings. She’d been devastated to learn that this piece (Gabriel has forgotten the title, but it was something borderline blasphemous) required a bass instead. ‘But bass parts are boring,’ she’d said, and Mirage had promised in a sickly sweet voice that she would write a bass solo in the next one.
Next to V2, V1 gently rests its head on the snare drum, wings drooping. He has never seen it so tired before, getting off his seat to help it before remembering that he is supposed to stay away. It catches his movement, however, turning its brilliant eye towards him.
Gabriel turns away and starts putting the stops back in place.
‘Excellent,’ says Mirage, walking around the church and rubbing her hands together. ‘Excellent.’
‘I hope the last three hours were worth it,’ says V2.
‘We fucking killed it that last time!’ exclaims Mirage. ‘It means we did very well,’ she adds, looking at Gabriel. ‘That was exactly the sound I was going for.’
‘Misery and pain?’
‘Exactly. Oh, I can’t wait to unleash—release this. A bit more processing in the DAW and it’ll sound amazing. Thanks everyone.’ She bows quickly to Gabriel, then at V2 and V1, who gives her a tired thumbs-up.
As V2 begins spooling up her extension cords and V1 begins taking apart its drumset, Mirage sidles over to Gabriel, hands behind her back.
‘That was more intense than usual. How are you doing?’
Gabriel scratches at the base of a wing. ‘I am fine.’
‘You don’t look too great. But rest assured, this is probably the most complex organ part I’ve ever written. You handled this, you can do the others.’
‘Mirage,’ he says, watching her sway in place, fiddling with the loose thread on her jacket. ‘I am beginning to feel that we perceive music very differently.’
She laughs at that, glancing over her shoulder at V1, who is dragging its feet to get to the nearest pew. ‘It’s fine. I used to think the same way. Music was just entertainment, there was a formula to make it sound good, and that was the whole point. Something to listen to.’
Music is a gift to God, that he still believes. Honour Him with the most elegant of hymns, the most soulful melodies. But—
‘You aim to inflict… “misery and pain” on the listener. If I may ask, why?’
‘“Misery and pain” is hyperbolic,’ she mutters, then louder, ‘There was a song I listened to in my youth. Here, I’ll send it to you.’
She whips out her phone, taps quickly on the screen. In Gabriel’s pocket, his own phone pings.
‘I wasn’t in a very good place when I heard it. The truth of adolescence is that very often, something painful gets stuck in your body and you can’t get it out.’ She slides her hands into her skirt pockets, looking over his shoulder. ‘I listened to that song, and when I was done, I wished I could cry. And I knew then that I wanted to do the same—break someone open on their own emotions, unspool something raw and visceral. That, I think, is the point of music.’
Gabriel nods, hoping he looks less confused than he feels. He should ask her for—wait, she’s right here. He can just ask.
‘Do you have anything else like it?’
‘Ah, tons. I’ll send you those later. You might want to put them in a playlist. Easier to organise.’
‘And how do I do that?’
Mirage looks over her shoulder. ‘V2!’ she calls. ‘Show the fine gentleman how to make a playlist.’
V2, lying down on a pew, props her head up on a hand. ‘With pleasure. Not tonight, though. I have work.’
‘V1—‘
Gabriel quickly changes the subject. ‘If someone has the time for it, those yearbooks we borrowed need returning by tonight.’
‘Can’t be me,’ says Mirage. ‘Homework and editing.’
V2 shakes her head. V1 signs, ‘Two essays to do.’
Gabriel feels his hands go cold. There’s no guarantee that Sobriety will be around, and even less of a chance that he will do Gabriel yet another favour. That just leaves… him.
‘No,’ he says, before he can stop himself.
‘What, scared?’
‘NO, you piece of sh—‘ He coughs as V2 and Mirage exchange glances. ‘I’m… busy, too.’
‘Before practice you were saying that you were free all night.’
‘I meant—I said—FINE! I’ll return the damn books.’ In his peripheral vision, V2 hands Mirage several coins. ‘Will the librarian be there?’
‘Minos isn’t that bad,’ pipes up V2. ‘He helped me study for a test once. Even got me extra blood when I ran out at midnight.’
‘He looks intimidating,’ says Mirage. ‘He really isn’t though.’
‘Didn’t know you were into old men,’ says V1, and that sends Gabriel over the edge.
‘I do not like him in that way. Neither am I scared of him,’ he almost snarls, watching V1 hold out its hands in a ‘whatever you say’ gesture. ‘I am heading to my room to pick up the books, and I am going to return them tonight.’
‘Good luck,’ says V1. Gabriel stops himself from swearing at it and strides to the exit.
It isn’t until the cool night air hits him that he realises how big of a mistake he has just made.
~~~
The books in his bag get heavier with each step. When he pushes open the door to the library he looks at the front desk, hoping and hoping that—
Oh, Gabriel has no such luck.
Minos turns very slowly towards him, sliding his glasses into place over the hole in his face. Gabriel looks around wildly. No one else in the room, no one to distract Minos’s attention.
Minos stares at him in silence for a while before going back to work, typing away on a desktop computer. His shoulders are relaxed as he reaches for a mug of tea on his table, but Gabriel can sense the frostiness leaching into the space between them.
Gabriel takes a deep breath and approaches the front desk. Minos pretends to ignore him for a while, tapping away at a much slower speed than before, until the thud of thirty-odd yearbooks on the desk forces him to look up.
‘Yes?’
‘I want to return these,’ says Gabriel, hating how high his voice sounds. ‘Thanks.’
The violent urge to stab himself returns. Minos adjusts his glasses and takes a look at the pile of tomes on his desk, lifting one of them with a forefinger and thumb as if afraid of dirtying himself. He flips to the card at the back of the book, takes a look, and nods.
‘Is that all?’
Say yes. It would be so easy, say one word and leave and never come back again. Let whatever he feels now, ugly and thorny around his throat, die over time. The Council’s whispers encourage that instinct, telling him that the magnitude of this man’s sin does not deserve a single ounce of his time.
But he remembers the cut he slashed into Minos’s face to the cries of his followers, the warmth of his blood staining Gabriel’s hands forevermore. All for the crime of wanting a better life for himself and his peers.
Gabriel says, ‘Minos. Sir.’
Minos leans back in his seat. ‘Thy courtesy is undeserved.’
The dryness in his voice hurts more than a blade. But he’s opened this can of worms: he must continue.
‘Nothing I do now can make up for what I have done to you.’
‘Why art thou here, if so?’ Minos clasps his hands together, his gaze piercing. ‘To give thyself some peace of mind?’
Gabriel stays silent. Minos nods. ‘I thought so.’
‘If it is my forgiveness that thou seeketh, thou should do well to shelve thy expectations.’
‘I can fix this.’ Barely a whisper.
Minos chuckles, the sound cold. ‘Thy actions cannot be reversed. I do not blame thee for following orders.’
Minos stands and Gabriel takes a step back. He flinches, hands going to his belt for his swords, closing on an empty waistband.
‘Thy honour is commendable. Perhaps, in a world where thou possesseth a spine, I would walk up to thee and shake thy hand. But our choices are made. My children suffered because of thee. I do not extend to thee my forgiveness.’
Gabriel exhales slowly. He should fight, ask for things to be made right, for someone to see his sins and cleanse them—but with the breath that leaves his lungs, only relief spreads through his body.
Gabriel nods.
‘I do not wish for thee to avoid this library and sabotage thy studies for my sake,’ says Minos, sitting down and reaching for one of the yearbooks on his table. ‘Visit at thy leisure. Never mention what thou hast taken from me.’
Gabriel nods again, heading for the exit under Minos’s watchful gaze. His hand on the doorknob, he says, ‘I am glad to see that you are doing better.’
Minos inclines his head slightly.
Gabriel wrenches open the door and runs. Stabbing pain begins to spread through his chest and arms and he continues running, unsure if the sounds leaving him are sobs or laughter.
augh late update... i've been suffering from the worst fatigues this week. it might be the anaemia. might get better before the week ends, or at least i'm hoping it does.
anyway. minosposting is hard. i'm referencing some elden ring dialogue for this which is why it's such a weird mix. minos oh minos maybe i'll do a full in-depth dive on you one day