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What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea, a pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
Themis was on a boat.
He could not remember boarding a boat. Looking around him, he saw that he had no luggage with him, nor did he have papers in his pockets. Had he wandered onto a boat and forgotten to leave before it hoisted anchor? His memory was failing him often these days. Although, why had no one stopped him if he had nothing on him? Protocol had to be followed, even for Elidibus.
I have to go home. He decided to teleport to Amaurot. It was never too far to teleport home. There was work to be done; even if his memory had holes the size of the star, he knew that much. The others in the Convocation would undoubtedly tease him for getting lost and wanting to come back to work, but that was all right, as long as it meant being where he belonged. If nothing else, he knew he belonged with them.
To his confusion, he found he could not remember how to teleport. Or—he remembered, but he could not feel his destination anymore. “What’s happening?” he muttered, staring at his hands. He wasn’t sure he could feel his aether anymore either.
You’re going home.
His heart leapt as his head shot up. “Who’s there?” he called. Themis walked the length of the boat, but found not a single soul beside his own.
Your brethren. We are guiding you home.
“I do not understand. Amaurot—”
Amaurot is gone, nothing but ruins now. Dear, dear Elidibus… There is nothing left, no Convocation, no Zodiark, no Amaurot.
Themis sank to his knees, his fingers cold as they scrabbled to hold onto the wood. “Gone…?” But how? It cannot be!
Then it hit him.
Thousands of years of sorrow, of agonized suffering. Thousands of years of calamities, over and over, trying to restore Zodiark, trying to restore his friends. His clashes with Warriors of Light, with Lahabrea and Emet-Selch. All in the name of Zodiark and their plan to bring everyone back. His fight with the most recent Warrior of Light came to him as well. He’d been bested by someone he had once counted as a friend, an impossibility that he helped facilitate with the last of his energies.
That was how he was on the boat. He’d sent his friend to Elpis with the last drop of his essence. He could only hope… only wish… his shooting star would save their beloved Etheirys where he could not.
So it was; he knew because he had reawoken in the lifestream to help his friend once more, despite efforts of his waker to the contrary, and learned that his last act had saved Etheirys. Now the rest was left to his falling star.
As for him, he was on his way to his promised land, beyond memory and dream.
“Can I…? Is there truly a place for me there?” Themis could not help the desperate yearning in his voice. “After what I have done?” All the lives I destroyed in order to bring you back, the untold destruction I orchestrated, the grief I caused… Can I be forgiven for that? He missed them terribly, even though for so long, he could not remember them.
We have never been angry with you. Your love for us has always been clear. We want you to come home, come to us.
He fairly leapt to his feet and ran to the helm of the boat, searching. Where were they? His friends, his family? All he could see was glassy waves in the moonlit night. Stars twinkled overhead. Is this what is like further down into the lifestream?
Somehow, he could tell he was no longer in the lifestream. He had transcended it and gone… onward. In a soft voice, he asked, “Have you been waiting long for me?”
We could have waited forever. We’ve missed you.
Themis could almost hear them, if he listened hard enough. Emet-Selch and his annoyed yet heartfelt tone. Lahabrea with his stern voice. Loghrif and Mitron, always together. Pashtarot, Emmerololth, Halmarut. Fandaniel? He wasn’t sure. Igeyorhm and Nabriales. Deudalaphon and Altima. He strained his ears and thought, perhaps, maybe, Azem was among them.
“My friends…” His eyes welled with tears that slid down his cheeks. “The… the rains have ceased…”
And we are graced with another beautiful day.
“But you were not there to see it!” His hand clenched into a fist against the rail. “You—you were not there to see it…” It tore him apart to know that he had failed in his duty, that his friends would never see the light of day again as they deserved.
But it is duty’s end, at last. And we will meet again.
Their words soothed him, and it felt like a weight was taken from him. They weren’t sad to have lost their chance at life again. They only wanted to reunite, and now was their chance.
The boat seemed as if it hadn’t moved at all during this time, given how still and empty the world was, but when he looked back, he could see a stream behind it, breaking the glassy water. Perhaps the horizon would come into view soon.
You stayed strong for us, for everyone. You did everything we ever asked of you, and more. Rest now, Elidibus. You have come to journey’s end.
Something brushed up against the boat. He leaned over to see thousands of lilies, fairly glowing in the light of the moon and his boat’s lamp. And there! A shore! And—
“My friends!” Themis shouted, overcome with joy and disbelief. There, waiting for him, were the Convocation and many more of his people. Their hoods were down and their masks were off, and he could see in the parting mists into daybreak their absolute joy to see him again.
A cacophony of voices greeted him, jubilant and ecstatic. Above all, he heard them calling, “Elidibus! Elidibus!”
Themis waited no longer; he climbed onto the edge and jumped off, landing in sweet-smelling water, lilies to his shins. It took all of a second to run up the white shore and into the waiting arms of his people.
The promised land, beyond memory and dream, was his at last.
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All Souls pass