Chapter Text
Enot liked waterfalls.
Saint didn’t quite see the appeal. They were interesting geological formations, sure, but most of them would be gone given a couple hundred thousand years. Hardly the most impressive things to go out of your way to see.
But Saint never made any suggestions for destinations, and so Enot called for them to look at fields of vibrant flowers, great messy jungles, vast deserts, and of course, thundering, majestic waterfalls. A hundred planets, a thousand destinations or more.
Enot called them “dates”, these little expeditions. Brief strolls into the worlds of mortals of all sorts, passing glances at all the wonder and waste that they had detached themselves from.
Saint had to admit, it was an enjoyable enough way to spend eternity.
Especially, they mused, because Enot had leveled out quite a bit herself. Her jokes and attempts at flirting had become much less displeasing, and she had begun to conduct herself in a manner much more befitting a god, even a former one.Sure, she still occasionally got on their nerves, but they found themself much more willing to move past it, much more keen on spending time with her. It must’ve been brought on by a profound change on her part. Surely.
The two of them were catching a sunrise through the mist that rolled off a massive waterfall as they sat amid the lilac-violet and periwinkle-blue stones of their most recent destination world. Saint quite enjoyed this planet—the vistas were undeniably impressive, and the local wildlife hadn’t yet evolved central nervous systems, which went a long way to preventing their “flashes”, as Enot called them.
It had been a nice while they had been camped out here, watching the drift of monumental giga-storms in the distance and entertaining one another with games of shapeshifting (the both of them had grown quite adept at a bizarre kind of charades), but it was clear by the way Enot had been pacing around that she was beginning to grow bored with this place. She still seemed to be enjoying the view, but Saint knew by experience that in a short span she’d be asking to leave.
It was them who brought up the idea of heading back that day.
Upon their return to the other place, the both of them went through their usual rituals, shedding their physical forms and letting their true embodiments “stretch out”. It was understood that neither of them would be interacting for a little bit—even if they were getting along better, Saint still needed a certain amount of alone time. They suspected that Enot might need some as well, even if she acted like the world would end if she spent too long on her own.
It was as Saint was taking this brief time of solitude that they felt something. A sensation, a faint but growing pull on them. As it grew stronger, they recognized this beckoning.
It was familiar to them, the call of their duty left undone. They shouldn’t have felt it at all—it was an obligation that they had abandoned when they left their position. They tried to ignore it, to block it out, but the more they pushed it down, the more it pushed back.
Somewhere, someone was dying.
Truly dying, in a way separate from the arrangement of the Worms and the Cycles. Dying in a way that demanded their attention.
Which was impossible. Without Saint’s presence in the mortal world, such deaths could not come to pass—
But, now that they thought about it, they had been spending quite a lot of time very close to being in the realm of the living recently, hadn’t they? Was it possible that their “sightseeing” was having an effect on the world?
The chance was greater than none, and the pressure they were feeling was undeniable.
They had no choice. Just this once, they would have to go back.
As they prepared to leave, it occurred to them that perhaps they should say something to Enot, but they decided against it. She never liked to discuss their former lives, and regardless, they doubted this would take long enough for her to notice they were gone.
And so, without a word, they twisted themself in towards their own core, and slipped sideways into reality.
~~~
It surprised Saint to find that this call, this death knell, was coming from somewhere that they were quite familiar with.
The humid, dripping planet of broken bio-machines, half-trapped spirits, and resourceful new minds was splayed out before them in all its foggy glory. Already, Saint had taken on their slugcat form, grimacing slightly to themself as the damp air made their fur stick down.
They doubted this return was any sort of coincidence. There was a connection between this place and them, but what? Was it just because they had visited here before, or was there something special about this place?
Or maybe, Saint thought as they looked over at the creature that had called them here, there’s something special about the people.
Bounding its way through wrecked fields of carnivorous plant-worms was a salmon-pink slugcat, one hand gripped round a glowing package, the other holding a crude weapon. It moved with unmistakable urgency, not pausing even in the face of the more aggressive predators of the area. Its eyes were fixed upwards, to the sprawling arrays above, and perhaps higher yet.
It was vital and alive, seemingly moreso than any of the creatures that it hunted or that hunted it—but it was dying. Saint could see it in the air. This creature was becoming unwound from the Cycles of the world, and in a matter of time its body and soul would become… separate.
Saint could only guess at how much time it had, but if the feeling was strong enough to call them here, then it couldn’t be long. They figured by the frantic way this slugcat scrambled and climbed up towards the machinery above that it was at least somewhat aware of its time limit.
They spent some time watching it, their curiosity growing as they did. The creature was dying in a way more profound than most, and yet, they saw no fear in its eyes, nothing but drive. What was that drive? Was it the same futile feeling of purpose that they had come to resent?
They had to know more, to understand this waning life before it was gone. Almost by instinct, they let their mind open—
Not yet, Hunter. The pain ain’t so sharp that you can’t leap one more time. It’s been a long walk, there’s no time for a misstep right at the end, now. There’ll be time for rest once the job is done.
Not yet, Hunter. The sore ain’t so bad that you can’t fight one more foe. A thousand jaws of gnashing teeth, a thousand sets of skittering legs, a thousand pairs of hungry eyes. What’s one or two more?
Not yet, Hunter. Still got a promise to keep, to them that sent you, and to yourself. So keep on running, keep on climbing, keep on crawling, little one. Make your father proud.
It’s not about how long you go, it’s about what you do before you’re gone.
Saint took a deep breath as they felt the wave of the slugcat’s thoughts abate from their mind.
Another duty-bound soul, this one with no pretenses of its survival. They expected to look at it, this Hunter, with disdain or pity, but instead they found themself filled with a profound respect. So little time left, and it chose to give that time up for something greater than itself.
As they watched the slugcat, it paused. Then it wheeled round, whip-fast, to stare directly at where Saint was watching it from. There was no way that Hunter could see them, and yet, its eyes met Saint’s perfectly. The humid air seemed to grow still around them—
“Hey, big guy!” Enot’s shrill voice cut through their thoughts. Saint turned around, just in time to see her putting on the final touches to that all-too-familiar form of hers.
“Here I am, thinking that I forgot ya at our latest date, and after searching that accursed planet from top to bottom, where do I find you?” She gestured around the two of them, at the rusted, decaying lands and its denizens, lifting one of her eyebrows high enough that it almost flew off her face. “I thought you were done with this world.”
“I am.” Saint huffed out defensively. They couldn't help but notice that Enot’s tone had been somewhat accusatory as she came to a halt, her wide, pale eyes staring them down. Was she hurt by the fact that they had left without telling her?
Enot’s head fell to the side, her arms crossing in front of her chest. “But?”
“Something called me back here. An obligation.” They leveled their gaze at Enot, their voice solemn. “I could not ignore it.”
“Then why didn’t you say something before you left?”
Saint held firm against the brunt of Enot’s raised voice. “It didn’t seem like it was worth mentioning. It was not going to take long. It still won’t, if you would allow me to continue.”
“What? Not—not worth mentioning? Saint, we’ve promised to be open with each other, to not leave each other behind! But now you’re sneaking around, going to see mortals without me!”
“I fail to see what your problem with all this is.” Saint felt their composure start to waver as Enot bore down on them, her wide eyes gleaming with nearly-spilled tears. Had they been wrong to not say anything? They were much less sure now.
“My problem, Saint…” She moved in front of them, covering the view they had on Hunter as she did. “Is that you’ve never cared about any of these creatures! Not when you were still willing to slave away for them, and especially not now! What’s so special about this one?”
Her thin arms practically cut through the air as she pointed in the vague direction of the slugcat.
“This creature is dying. Truly dying. I can feel its life slowly becoming unwound—”
“So what?” Enot interrupted them sharply, and Saint was taken aback to see tears flowing down her cheeks.
“So what if it's dying? You know how these mortals are, how these worlds are —especially this one!” Her voice was reaching a fever-pitch, the tears forming messy globs on her face, snot bubbling out of her nose.
“Do you think they cared about you—about us, before we left? We are nothing to them, were nothing, until your absence started to inconvenience them! Suddenly, instead of desiring immortality, they are obsessed with the thought of death. Shouldn't you be happy that they moved on? That they found their way out? I—”
Enot’s wailing speech was suddenly cut short as her body wobbled—like a pond that had a stone thrown into it, she rippled and distorted as the slugcat, whom neither of them had been keeping a close eye on, walked through her.
Walked through her, towards Saint. Its dark gaze was fixed on them, as it had been before Enot arrived. It raised a small, calloused hand to point at them, and for a moment, the world was still. The rusting planet, the foggy skies, the bloodstained Cycle, the weight of their guilt, even Enot… all faded into nothing.
There was only Saint and Hunter. The slugcat, with its finger outstretched, made its demand clear through the intensity of the singular thought in its mind.
Not yet.
And then it carried on, turning away from them to run off towards its distant, final goal. Saint watched the creature as it left, unsure of what they had just encountered. It had seen them, approached them, and addressed them directly. Such was not possible, but it had happened.
As Saint struggled to grasp what this could mean—for them, for the purpose they left behind, for the world they had scorned—Enot spoke up, her voice faint and wavering.
“Just walked straight through me… like I wasn’t even there…” She was staring down at her thin, crude facsimiles of hands.
“We aren’t here, Enot.” Saint said it as much for themself as for her. They weren’t here.
She shot her eyes up at them, and Saint couldn’t help but recoil from the resentment they saw in her glare.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Her face contorted to an unnaturally stretched look of despair and anguish. “Do you think I don’t know that I’m nothing?”
Before they could respond, she was gone, twisted off back to the other place.
Saint was left standing alone, a low wind whipping through their fur. They had clearly made a mistake, upset Enot somehow, though they struggled to see what exactly it was they had done or said. Still, it seemed an apology of some kind was in order—
But the pull was still there. That creature might still be in need of the unique aid that only Saint could provide. They had to stay, to see this through. Afterwards, they could apologize to Enot. She would understand.
They followed the dying creature, to whatever ends awaited it.
It would’ve made for a fine legend, had there been anyone to chronicle it. The struggle, against nature and time, of this solitary Hunter. The wonder, the desperation, the resolve…
And yes, the heroism and the sacrifice. Saint watched as the Hunter made its delivery, restoring to life a small piece of the dying world. Then it turned around to head back.
Saint could see that it wasn’t going to make it much further. The disconnect of its spirit was taking a toll on its body. It was growing paler and thinner with each night it rested. By the time it returned to the dilapidated farmlands that Saint had first seen it in, the Hunter had grown too weak to catch food properly.
And from hunger, it grew weaker still. Saint watched it stumble and fall.
It did not get up.
But it also did not die. Instead, the seized up form of the slugcat lay there, trapped between death and life, not able to move to the next cycle, but still in a body that could not sustain it.
They could sense its pain. How it had become trapped in this awful state.
They had to act. But to do anything, they would have to take up the mantle they had left behind so long ago. The peace that they had found, the separation from this world of suffering and foolish mistakes, they could stand to lose it, if they intervened. Was this worth it?
On the ground, Hunter turned a pair of misty eyes to where Saint stood. They could see something reflected in those eyes. A glimmer of green and gold. A raised hand—theirs.
The eyes went dull, and Hunter’s shivering stopped.
They never really had a choice. This was what they were, and it was what was right.
Footsteps lightly tapped across the ground, and they didn’t have to look to know it was Enot. She came up to where they were kneeling over the body, and sat down alongside them.
Saint didn’t look up from what they had done.
“I’m sorry.” They mumbled.
She stared down at Hunter, silent. After a long moment, she slowly leaned over to rest her head on Saint’s shoulder.
“It’s okay.”