Grazing the Sky

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 96 (v.1) - The Light, Part IV

Submitted: December 04, 2019

Reads: 27

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Submitted: December 04, 2019

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Zidane struggled to breathe. He could feel energy around him, sparking and snapping away like live wires being messed with. Soft words being spoken in Riilin above him, questions and confusion.

Why wasn't he being healed? They were Razalek, weren't they?

The energy neared his chest wound, sparking violently. The bolt shook in between the Razalek's hand and Zidane's chest, nearly ricocheting endlessly. And then, with another softly spoken word, it faded.

Zidane took in a breath, almost screaming from the pain. His entire body felt light. What was happening?

His eyes cracked open, seeing nothing but faces and red.

Splotches of red.

Zidane's eyes shot open and he felt his breath stop for a moment. Fuck. Not now...

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask Yittek. Wanting the serum again. But he was quickly bleeding out and there was too much liquid in his mouth. He couldn't get rid of it all...

Zidane tried to turn, tried to roll onto his side and call out for Yittek. A hand pressed against his shoulder, voice telling him not to move. He threw blood onto the pillow below him.

"Yittek..."

Another hand came against his skin. A familiar one.

"I'm right here, Zidane. We're trying to heal you, but nothing's working..."

My Razalek side was deactivated...

He tried to open his mouth, more blood choking from him. More red filled his sight.

Is this... My Zicora?

He could feel the energy, the power pulsing through him. Beginning to strengthen each organ, spread out to every cell. And then he was rolled onto his stomach.

He heard the footsteps. Running ones, two pairs.

Zidane turned, looking to the side, towards the doorway in time to see Lance and Zooka stop. Wide-eyed.

Something about it made sense, them being together.

Maybe this is it, Zidane thought, feeling his sight dim. Briefly seeing Zooka step towards him, and Lance take a small step as well. Maybe all the pain was supposed to lead us to this moment.

He could feel his life force slipping, the energy that made up his mind becoming sky-high. He blinked, his sight barely any different from the darkness beneath his eyelids.

Maybe, I'm just supposed to go.

He was surrounded by darkness, pain screaming through him. Pure agony, as though he were lying to Zooka all over again.

This is it. This is hell.

He tried to breathe, his half-exhale hanging in the air as everything went silent.

Zidane waited.

Red shot by, streaking the black, the high-pitched ring lingering in Zidane's ears. Yellow, orange, blue, purple—it all shot by in streaks, covering the black and overtaking the sound in beautiful rings.

He was floating, moving high at an angle, reaching towards the center of the spectrum.

And then suddenly he was standing upright, surrounded by green grass, a bright blue sky. A cliffside was nearby, sounds of a waterfall crashing beyond it.

Kyrene looked over her shoulder, meeting Zidane's eyes with her golden ones. They brightened immensely, becoming nearly pale.

Her smile only grew, and she reached a hand out to him.

"My Nachi."

Zidane stepped forward, transfixed as he held his mother's hand.

"Mom..."

Kyrene nodded, stepping back to stand side-by-side.

"Where are we?"

Kyrene looked to him, eyes whitening humorously.

"You tell me."

Zidane looked around again.

"Nirvana," he said. "Heaven, moksha..."

"But..." He looked over to Kyrene, who nodded.

"I was called," she said. And her smile grew. "And I love what you've done."

But Zooka's not here. Zidane's stomach died. So nothing else matters...

"Mama!"

Zidane's hand was released, and he saw the five-year-old version of himself run into his mother's arms. Markings, tail, ears fully exposed.

The younger Zidane grinned. "Mama!"

"Yes, my love," Kyrene answered, nuzzling into his hair. "What is it?"

Young Zidane presented a small wooden horse-like creature. "Look at what I made!"

Kyrene gaped, eyes becoming close to white. "What craftsmanship!"

"Look at what I made!" With a flash of pain, Zidane stared at a nine-year-old Adelah holding up a cross between an octopus and a shark.

"It's wonderful!" Kyrene set young Zidane down, picking up the whittled statue with both hands.

Adelah grinned, hands behind her back as she rocked her weight to one foot. "Thank you!"

Zidane almost smiled. An energy pulled his focus up, towards a large oak tree far away. Distantly, he saw a thirty-one year old Orah turn his stare away, out to the plain lands.

Kyrene cradled the statue against herself, turning back to Zidane with a smile.

"I had to keep myself entertained somehow," she said.

"So these are just... Figments of your imagination?"

Kyrene nodded.

A pause came between them, filled when young Zidane stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet and tapped his sister's shoulder.

"Tag! You're it!"

They ran off, leaving Kyrene to speak out into the emptiness.

"You still feel a connection, don't you?"

He could. He felt a deep weight in the center of his chest.

"I can still go back," he said, speaking for her.

Kyrene nodded slowly.

"There's still a tie to your world and this one," she said. And when she smiled, Zidane couldn't bring himself to return it.

"I killed you." The tears came, and this time he didn't force them back. They flowed down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw... He felt his mouth quiver, shaking his next words.

"I... It was my fault," he said. "I killed you."

When she opened her arms to embrace him, he didn't realize he'd grown shorter, smaller. Kyrene having to get on her knees to fully embrace his small form. He was five again, sobbing against his mother's inner-shoulder.

"I killed you." The words came in a moan, his next inhale shaking into his throat. "I killed you."

"You did nothing of the sort," Kyrene replied, nearly hissing the words. She stroked his hair, the back of his neck. "It was my choice to go, my light."

Zidane sobbed harder.

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It was some time before he came to his senses again. Before the tears dried and left him still, silent.

He was sitting near the cliffside, watching the waterfall pour into the lake and feeling a deep calmness. Kyrene sat beside him, knees comfortably hugged towards her chest.

Zidane opened his mouth, the words dead as he said what they were both thinking.

"I know," Kyrene replied. She sent him a soft smile, one that let him know she understood.

Zidane did his best to return it.

___________

 


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