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Stay here long enough, and this place will taint you, too.
Ever since I was told those exact words, they would revolve around my brain every time something close to being bad happened.
Yes, being trapped in a place like this was already pretty bad. I didn't even have a way to tell how long I've spent here. There was no sunset or sunrise, there was no night or day. It was just… Dark. Which, yeah, it was the Darklands. It has “dark” in its name. But my point still stands.
All I knew was with what I've already seen, what I've already gone through, and as much as I hated to admit it… The guy that had told me that was right.
I was lucky enough to find a hide out close to a body of mostly safe water. I had even managed to start a fire against all odds, and maybe I had to use one or two bladder water bottle things to keep it going, but… Hey, I had to work with what I got. But it was forever cold. Forever lonely. And simply went on forever in general. All I had to keep me company was the drawings of my friends back at home I had drawn on the wall beside me. Most of the time I filled the quiet with my own voice, talking at a low volume until my throat got all parched and dry. Then, I would take a few swigs of the water I had boiled so it was mostly safe to drink, having to force myself to get used to, well… All of it.
The same water that I drank from, I also did what I could to keep my armor clean. Seeing as how I had to leave my Amulet on the other side, there really was no way to take it off, but not that I was complaining; it kept me mostly warm, not to mention safe, as much as I could be at least. Didn't help with when I slept, as little as I allowed myself to–I always made sure to keep my ears out and keep it light, just in case. But I was long past complaining about anything at this point.
I got myself here, after all. Might as well live with the consequences that came after.
Still, looking at my reflection in that water… Was not very comforting. The more time went on, the bags under my eyes grew, my skin turned pale without the sunlight, and I was looking skinnier than what was meant to be normal. Meals came much less often as I allowed myself to sleep. In fact, I probably on average only ate like… One or two meals every few days. Not like I could tell, but mostly edible things didn't exactly exist. All I really managed to snag were a few Nyarlagroth eggs every so often whenever I'd find a nest, sometimes I'd even drop them trying to escape from the giant death worms if they happened to show up, but… Like everything else. I took what I could.
I knew one thing: if or when I got out of this, I would never take anything for granted ever again.
Here I was, once again, telling myself this same thing for what felt like the millionth time in a row with my brows furrowed in a hard line as I stared at my gaunt, pale face. I had just gotten back from trying to find where in this place that nursery was, the very reason I had even done something as bad as this in the first place, and did what I could to wipe off the excess grime on my suit just to pass the time. Only to stop and look at myself, my thoughts overtaking my mind.
I hated how long it was taking me to find it. Even more so the fact that the longer it took, the longer I had to stay here. And feel like a complete liar and a failure in the process. I wasn't the type of guy that broke a promise when I made one, yet right now it really felt like I was starting to, no matter how determined I was to find the Changeling nursery. I wouldn't go back until I found Claire's baby brother, but… I also think I may have underestimated the size of the task immensely.
A burning, spiteful anger at my own actions rose from my gut to my chest, making my fist clench and my stare turn into a glare on my own reflection. It was a shame how I didn't have anything to punch to get these emotions out of me, even if the only thing I really wanted to beat up then was myself. Which–I finally realized with a defeated sigh, all of that anger immediately depleting into something cold once again–wasn’t really something that was possible, so I let the feeling die and trudged out of the lake, the water rippling my reflection as I moved.
I stepped onto dry land and trudged my way to my hideout, partly surprised I had been able to at least memorize something in this large, forsaken maze of death. Sitting in the far corner where it remained hidden behind some rocks was the satchel I used to keep all the essentials in, and I dug out the single piece of chalk I had, walked up to the wall in front of me, and numbly marked off yet another part to the map I had been drawing. Without that, I would have seriously been lost. And probably losing my mind somewhere.
Another sigh, this time heavier and full of something empty comes out of me as I back away, looking up at the map with a weighted, exhausted expression.
Yeah, I wasn't about to give up. Far from it. I was about as determined to find Enrique than I've ever been in my entire life, for what I could remember anyway. And if I happen to run into Gunmar or any of his goons along the way, well… That was fine too. I'd finish the fight, right then and there.
But everything else made it so much harder. All the things that wanted to kill me, all the time spent alert, barely resting, alone, cold, weary… Missing everything that I could have ever had back home. When I first came here, I had tried to suppress my emotions, the way my heart would drop to my chest at just the mention of my friends. Or heck, even my own mother. With the way I had left her…
What a son, what a hero I was.
My head slowly turned to the wall where I had drawn Toby, Claire, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh as once again emotion fills every part of me. Too many to name, really. This happened more times than I'd like to admit, each time worse than the last. I suppose, in a way, I was already beating myself up like I had wanted to earlier. Just one single glance at the rusty portrait and I was nothing but an emotional mess.
“... Guess I really can't live without any of you guys, huh..?” I murmur thickly, talking out loud to the drawing for the first time that day.
Usually, when I do talk to them, I'm switching from cracking lame jokes to admitting my worst fears and secrets. Doing everything I can to keep myself from completely breaking down in a pathetic, non-Trollhunter kind of way. This time, though..
This time, it's like the dam breaks, and runs through the village and destroys every part of my emotions that I've kept in little houses as I walk forward, press a shaking hand to drawing-Aaarrrgh’s chest as the memory once again intrudes into my brain.
Watching as the large troll sacrificed himself, as the poison took its toll and covered his entire body to stone. The last simple, but meaningful word that he spoke calling Toby “Wingman”. It never hurts any less. Only strengthened when Claire's own final words ring in my ears.
“Save that anger for the Darklands.”
I'm an idiot. I think despairingly as the world blurs together, and my head presses against the wall, making sure not to smear any of the chalk despite my self-wallowing.
This is the only time I'm allowing myself to do this, I tell myself as I stand there for who knows how long, hand and head pressed against the drawing as pure anguish tears me into little pieces.
Not only was it not a good idea to cry when there was a limited water source, but it left me vulnerable to anything that could find me. Even if I kept myself as quiet as possible. That thought only managed to get my emotions to spike at a ridiculous amount, but it was because of the fact that I had to force myself to think like that in a time of vulnerability when I shouldn't have had to. I don't cry often, but I usually have at least mom there to hold me whenever I do, and this place was just so empty and lonely and void of life that there was no comfort. Not even when I eventually wrapped my arms around myself and sank to my knees on the ground beneath the chalk, trying to keep my breathing level and contained as tears dripped down my face slowly.
“I'm sorry.” I whisper to the lifeless air around me, to the lifeless pictures above me. “I… I wasn't thinking… I'm sorry.”
Out of nowhere, all of a sudden, the pool of grief in my chest almost completely dried as I processed my words. As I realized what I was doing. It's so unexpected that my eyes widen slightly, my tears slowing as I stare at the ground, thinking about what I just said.
It took a minute to click, but when it did, in an almost confused fashion, I furrowed my eyebrows, blinking to try to clear the water in my eyes. “... No.” I eventually mumble. “No I'm not.”
I can almost imagine how my friends would back up with shocked, and probably offended, looks on their faces. And that gave me the edge I needed to push off the wall, standing upright and clearing my face of tear tracks, so I could explain myself.
“... I miss you guys.” I say, truthfully and with that edge of sorrow and guilt to my voice. “I really do. And I will, until this is over. … But I'm not sorry for doing what I did.” I fix my gaze first to Blinky, then to Toby, then to Aaarrrgh. Here was where I paused, where I let that despair return. “I am sorry, for losing you. You'll probably say that it wasn't my fault, but, it was. There was something I could have done, anything. I just… Didn't.” A small tear came down my cheek when I blinked. “I'll always be sorry for that..”
When I eventually moved my gaze to Claire's face, that anguish was replaced with a determination. My heart lifted ever so slightly as I reached out a hand to lightly touch her cheek. “But I won't apologize for doing whatever it took to keep my promise to you. Not if it's worth it. And it will be, I'll make sure of it.” I smile wryly, managing a soft chuckle. “Though I know you all probably hate me right now, which, I understand. Believe me, I'm really not happy about any of this either.”
I finally pull my hand away and back up a step to stare up at the entire drawing, pulling in my chest and clenching my fists in determination. “But it'll be fine. I'll make it out of this. And I will find Enrique. No matter what it takes.” My expression falls just a little bit in a pleading sort of manner as I finish gently. “But all I'm asking for, is a little bit of faith. A little bit of trust. I will be back. Okay?”
As if waiting for some kind of response, I let a moment of silence pass. Letting my promise sink not only into the stones and the air and the very depths of the Darklands, but into my very core, my very being. Reminding myself that this is worth everything I was going through until it was over.
It was strange, how sometimes talking to myself like this helped. How it made the weight in my chest almost leave. And maybe not forever, but for a while at most. Maybe a part of that was also because of my mini mental breakdown, but either way… Who cares if I felt about as insane as Chompsky, if it worked, then it worked.
I hadn't noticed I had been smiling softly at the wall until a dry cough came from my throat, reminding me of the precious water I lost a few minutes ago, and said smile turned sheepish as I turned back to my drawing-friends.
“Sorry, let's put a pin on this for now. Gotta get some water in me before I get another killer headache. Probably should get some sleep, too.”
This time I didn't wait for an answer as I went to the bag again, pulled out the bladder that had been filled earlier that “day”, and drank the rest of its contents greedily. I would restock on it all later on, but with the combination of non stop searching, the breakdown, and all the emotions in between, I found myself a lot more tired than I expected to be. So I walked over to the slab of rock on the ground that was meant to be a makeshift bed. It was more solid than the floor and flatter than the formations sitting around the Darklands, so again. Who was I to complain??
The only thing that there was to complain about was the way my stomach gurgled painfully with hunger after I got mostly settled, and I grimaced through it partly with annoyance. Of course it starts just as soon as I lay down. Go freaking figure.
But it was one of those things that I had learned to live with temporarily, so after a few more grumbles, I felt myself slip into a light slumber, mumbling a, “G’night guys.” To my mural.
Not a sound responded, but I hardly even cared. It was a good thing that nothing did.
For once in this forsaken place where no hope or escape was found, I let myself relax, for as long as I could allow myself to.