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Thump-thump.
Anne pressed her ear to Marcy’s chest, a silent prayer passing her lips, begging for another set of beats.
Thump…thump.
She closed her eyes, a single thought echoing through her mind: “Please Marcy, please. I can’t lose you again.” Anne stared her hands, stained red from the blood pouring from the back of Marcy’s head. How much had they gone through, braving another world as a child, stabbed through the chest, possessed—all of it, only to die here, on their first trip back to Amphibia?
They couldn't die.
Anne vowed they wouldn't.
Thump…
Holding her breath, Anne sat, head to Marcy's chest, listening. Waiting.
Thump…
Anne waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“No…”
“Anne!” Sasha ran into the clearing, drenched in the blood of the creature that had done this to Marcy. “How are they?”
“They–” Something broke inside Anne, a drawn bow letting loose an arrow of grief to her heart. “Sasha their heart stopped , they're not breathing they—”
“Shit,” Sasha rushed towards them, kneeling at Marcy's side, inadvertently crouching in the pool of blood steadily growing beneath them. “Anne…their… their head. Ok. Ok fuck fuck fuck , ok I. I think we're somewhere near toad tower so there should be a town—fuck ok. Ok I'm gonna–gonna start CPR and…”
Sasha's words began to fade, whatever comfort she tried to offer falling on deaf ears. Only one thought swirled through Anne's mind. “This is my fault…I’m the reason why they came back to Amphibia—they didn’t feel ready yet! If we’d planned this better—been more prepared…”
“Anne, they're your girlfriend. They wanted to be here for you, you can’t blame—”
“It’s my fault , Sasha! I–I just want them back…please, give them back.” Anne knew nothing would answer her plea, the ancient power that answered her years ago was long gone now. Yet Anne refused to give up—her heart refused to let go of Marcy just yet.
“Give.” The first word of Anne’s demand filled her chest.
“Them.” The clearing around them fell silent, the birds and insects not daring to make themselves known.
“BACK.”
Anne's voice filled the clearing, silence falling over it as the last echoes of her voice faded into the ether. A sudden shroud of darkness and the scent of sulfur and iron filled her lungs, making her gasp with shock. The normally hot, humid, and stagnant air of Amphibia fell away, replaced with an icy chill.
Mind beginning to catch up, she realized Marcy was no longer in her arms, that Sasha was no longer at her side. Feeling around in the dark, Anne grasped for them, only finding ashen earth slipping between her fingers. She froze, still and silent in the cold dark.
She was alone.
For an eternity and a moment Anne waited, frozen in the void until the silence was finally broken by the sound of footsteps approaching her. A light in the distance steadily grew brighter—a lamp, held in the hand of a cloaked stranger. Their dark grey cloak, trimmed with black fur, danced around their feet, their face shrouded beneath the hood. Anne wondered if she should run, yet something about the figure seemed to calm her panicked mind, their lantern her only source of reassurance as it pierced the endless darkness.
The stranger stopped before her, their lantern illuminating the trees of the clearing, twisted and black even in the light. Anne stared into the figure's hood trying to discern any details of their face. She was met with nothing but the void. Slowly she stood, finding herself standing a few inches taller than them.
“Where am I?” The clearing no longer echoed Anne’s voice; instead her words faded as soon as they left her lips, muffled as if she was hearing it underwater. They merely gestured in response to her words—a beckon to follow them.
Anne hesitated, even as the stranger turned and began walking away, leaving her in the dark once more. Logic told her not to follow, and yet…she trusted them. As much as her mind screamed to stay where she was until she had her bearings, her heart told her to follow.
So Anne followed her heart.
“Who are you?” She spoke with her muffled voice, yet the stranger turned to her as if they had heard.
“I am your guide. I am the Gatekeeper,” they replied, with a dry and hollow sound that made Anne shiver. They said no more after that.
She walked with the Gatekeeper for what felt like eternity, past twisting trees and stagnant ponds, all of it a shadow of the Amphibia she knew. Finally, at the mouth of a cave, the Gatekeeper stopped, turned to her and spoke: “Your love remains bound below, in the land of dust and bone. To demand a soul from Queen Eresh, you must heed her rules, her home. Seven Gates you must pass. Seven gifts you must provide.”
Anne stared into the mouth of the cave—it was hungry, ready to swallow her whole, and howling with an eerie roar. Involuntarily, she gulped before steeling her nerves. “I’d give anything to get them back.”
The Gatekeeper gestured towards the cave in invitation before passing the threshold. Anne followed their light into the growing dark.
Down.
Down.
Down.
The path ventured ever deeper, past unseeing eyes and tear-stained walls, over ashen floors and through smoky air. Anne followed her guide’s light, an oasis in the gloom, for ages beyond her count until they reached a towering set of gates, rising up into the darkness. Glossy black and lined with bronze, they betrayed no sign of how to open them.
The Gatekeeper stopped, raising their lantern high. It remained suspended even as they let go, lighting up the bronze of the gate, framing them in orange as they turned to face Anne, holding out their hand as if to ask for the gift.
“When did you know you loved the one you seek?”
Anne stared at the Gatekeeper, confused. “What's with the question? Aren’t I supposed to give you a gift or something?”
The Gatekeeper only stared, hand still outstretched as they repeated, “When did you know you loved the one you seek?”
“Is…is that all? Tell you about how much I love my girlfriend and you’ll let them go?”
The Gatekeeper stayed silent, the void beneath their hood revealing nothing as they waited.
“Alright,” Anne said suspiciously, eyeing the massive gates before looking back to her guide. “I’ve always loved Marcy, whether as my best friend or my girlfriend.”
A beat passed, the Gatekeeper tilting their head as if considering the answer. Unfortunately it didn’t seem enough for them. “When did you know you loved the one you seek?”
Anne huffed, confused and more than a little annoyed by the Gatekeeper’s insistence. “Alright, fine. You want details? A week after they moved back to LA. We went to the beach and…” Anne paused, the memory filling her with a reassuring warmth in the cold. “...and when I looked at them in the setting sun I realized I was in love with them.”
The Gatekeeper closed their hand as if Anne had just placed something in their palm. Behind them the light shifted as the gate began to silently open. They turned, grabbing their lantern and proceeding into the dark; Anne followed, passing through the gates which began to close behind her, sealing with an earth-shaking sound.
Thump…thump.
“That’s it?” Anne asked incredulously as she began to follow. “If all I have to do is talk about how much I love Marcy, this’ll be…”
Anne stopped in her tracks, trying to recall the memory she knew she’d just shared. All she found was a yawning gap.
“I can't—why can't I remember it anymore?”
Anne was met with silence.
“Answer me!”
“Seven gifts,” they replied tersely. “You said you would give anything. Do you wish to turn back?”
“No!” she answered without hesitation, though a new pit of dread began to form in her gut. Even still she resolved she’d do anything for her Mar-mar, saying confidently, “I'm not giving up on them.”
The Gatekeeper nodded, continuing forward.
The second gate loomed ahead, glossy black and lined with silver; Anne’s guide stood haloed in the light, their lantern suspended behind them. Once again they turned to face her, hand outstretched.
Ann found herself shivering as she waited for their next question, the freezing air chilling her as their next words filled the space.
“When was the first time you kissed your love?”
Anne’s heart skipped a beat as the memory filled her mind for what she knew would be the last time. For Marcy. All this was for Marcy. If she couldn’t remember her first kiss with them, she'd make up for it by remembering a thousand more once she had them back.
“The first time I kissed her was in my apartment’s living room—I tripped and almost fell off a pier because I was staring at them while they talked. Marcy caught me but we landed funny and I sprained their ankle.” Anne smiled at the memory, finding some warmth in the bitter cold. “I carried them back to my place and gave them some ice but…I felt so really bad about it, until Marcy pulled me in for a kiss.”
It felt real, her senses filling with the moment. She could smell sweat and the summer sun filling the air between them. The sound of their sigh as they pulled her in and the gentle hum as they deepened the kiss. The softness of their slightly chapped lips pressed to Anne’s own. Most of all, Anne remembered the feeling in her chest—not a feeling of excitement but peace.
And then it was gone.
The Gatekeeper closed their hand once more, accepting the memory as the silver-lined gates silently opened. An empty ache filled Anne’s chest. A void where a precious memory once lived.
She tamped down the feeling, reminding herself why she was doing this once again.
For Marcy.
The gates behind her closed, shuddering with a sound Anne felt in her bones.
Thump…thump .
For Marcy.
The third gate loomed ahead, a towering mass in the dark, making itself known only by consuming the distant light of the lantern. Only once they were at the gate did the lantern reveal its face—a glossy black gate, inlaid with dark iron barely brighter than the gate’s ominous shade.
When the Gatekeeper turned to face her, hand outstretched, they were only haloed by the oasis of light behind them. Anne braced herself for the next question, already grieving what she was about to lose.
“When you embrace your love, what is the scent that greets you?”
The bitter ashen air smelling of pyres and burnt funerary flowers filled Anne’s nose, overwhelming her. The smell threatened to drown out every other scent, and yet, piercing through the haze, something quintessentially Marcy filled her lungs.
“Whenever I hold Marcy,” Anne began, breathing deeply as she remembered, “I always bury my face in their neck. They smell cool, like a breeze on a hot day—sometimes their smell reminds me of pine, sometimes mint, sometimes just the smell of clean laundry. But under it all it’s always just the smell of my Marcy. I can’t explain it but their scent just smells right .”
Just as she expected, like a breath stolen from her lungs, the scent was ripped from her. Anne chased it for just a moment, fruitlessly. It was hard enough remembering scent, let alone after the actual memories had been ripped from her mind. Anne felt its absence more so than the other memories—a whole part of Marcy had been carved from her mind. The void it left made her ache.
The Gatekeeper closed their hand, grasping the gift of Anne’s memory, pausing for a moment as if in contemplation before turning to grab their lantern. The silent opening of the iron-lined gates was almost imperceptible. Only when the Gatekeeper turned did Anne know they had opened. The hairs raised on the back of Anne’s neck as the great gates began to close behind her, undetectable except for their sheer presence and size. Only when they closed did Anne’s senses finally comprehend them, echoing in Anne’s ears as they closed.
Thump…thump.
“That was more than just a memory!” Anne yelled, not even the muffling of the underworld being able to hide her rage. “You took a whole part of them from me!”
Pausing, the Gatekeeper turned to her, placing a cold, gloved hand on her shoulder, filling Anne with an odd comfort at the touch. Despite their harsh voice, an unmistakable sound of sympathy underlay it as they said, “It is not too late to turn back and grieve the one you seek instead.”
Anne stood defiant. “No. I’m not going back without Marcy. I’m not leaving them behind.”
“Then be prepared for what She will take from you.”
The journey continued, biting cold and acrid air burning Anne’s skin. After what felt like another eternity, great black gates, lined with emeralds, shimmered as they approached, the lantern’s light making the stones glitter like stars. The fourth gate.
Anne stopped at the same time as the Gatekeeper, already growing familiar with the ritual. Her head and heart pounded as she shivered—whether from cold or fear she couldn’t say. Apprehensive, she waited as the Gatekeeper performed their motions, turning to her. When they spoke next it was quieter than before.
“When your love is silent, what do your ears yearn to hear?”
Anne’s own voice died in her throat, the dry, cold air biting her lungs, stealing her breath. She knew what the question meant. She’d lived that reality for years. First in Amphibia, then when Marcy was across the country. Now, faced with the prospect of never hearing it again pained her, but she knew it was a necessary sacrifice to make.
“Their voice,” Anne said as she felt her breath finally fill her lungs. “I love hearing what they have to say. I love their passion. I love when they get too excited talking about something and their voice gets so high it cracks. I love the way their voice gets soft when they’re holding me in bed and they tell me goodnight. I…I used to take it for granted, but now, now I miss their voice whenever I don’t hear it.”
Like an echo, Anne heard Marcy’s voice slowly fade from her mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t summon it. Every ramble she’d vowed to listen to, every time they’d told her “I love you,” every whispered confession and apology.
Gone.
The Gatekeeper closed their hand more slowly this time, gingerly closing their fingers as if cradling the gift Anne had just given. As the light from the lantern shimmered across the facets of the emeralds lining the gate, the Gatekeeper paused, breaking their usual actions for the first time.
In their dry, husk-like voice, they said, “We are over halfway there. Only three gates left. Do you wish to turn back?”
Anne stood firm, despite the shiver that began to settle in her bones. “No. I’ll do a–anything for Marcy.”
The Gatekeeper nodded, turning to grasp their lantern as they and Anne passed through the emerald lined gate, side by side. Just as the others, the gate began to close as they passed, closing with finality.
Thump…thump .
Anne had grown accustomed to the Gatekeeper’s presence now, the odd comfort she felt with them now familiar as she walked at their side. The journey was far from kind—long and tortuous, the chill of the underworld grew colder with every step. In the face of that Anne counted the Gatekeeper’s presence as a blessing.
Eventually the fifth gate loomed, standing proud in the gloom, the shimmer of the rubies lining it glittering a vibrant red. The stones presented an intimidating sight, shimmering like blood in the darkness, Anne shivered once again.
The Gatekeeper stopped, their lantern floating, and turned to her. Their question was delayed this time—they remained fixated on her, as she began to shake more, her shorts and thin shirt, meant for Amphibia’s sweltering heat, doing little to ward off the growing cold. Finally, the Gatekeeper asked their question.
“What do you see when you wake beside your love?”
Anne’s heart broke. She knew what they were asking for, and yet, for the first time, Anne truly hesitated to give up her memory. She’d lost her memories of falling in love, their first kiss, their smell, their voice. All of those memories she could live without, but if she forgot how Marcy looked…
For the first time, Anne begged for a different question. “Please. There—there has to be another gift I can give. The colour of their eyes? How their touch feels? Please. I—I can’t. What if I see them and I don’t recognize them? I can’t do that to them, please!”
The Gatekeeper stood unwavering before her, their eyeless stare seemingly cold and unfeeling. After a pause they only replied, repeating, “What do you see when you wake beside your love?”
Anne closed her eyes. She saw their face, their smile. She lingered with the memory for as long as she could bear—If she didn’t give this up, all she’d have left was this memory. She needed to hold onto the feeling. Even if she couldn’t remember their face, she hoped beyond hope the memory of her love would guide her to them.
“When I—when I wake up next to them, they’re usually still asleep.” Anne began speaking, trying to be confident despite the grief already digging into her. “They always look so peaceful and relaxed. Sometimes I just stare at their pretty face, admire how the sunlight lights up their skin, how their long, silky hair falls over their face, how their lashes flutter when they’re just about to wake up. And when they wake up, I love to stare deep into their eyes, lose myself in the deep golden brown as they squint in the sunlight. And then…when they smile, my heart always skips a beat. That—that’s what I see when I wake up next to Marcy.”
Anne teared up before she even finished the memory—by the time Marcy’s face faded, she’d begun to sob, her tears falling from her cheeks and freezing before even reaching the ash-covered ground.
Gone. No matter how hard she reached for it, Marcy’s face was gone.
The Gatekeeper once more closed their hand, slowly turning as the gates opened. Though this time, the Gatekeeper didn’t begin walking right away, instead pausing before the lantern. Anne walked up beside them—they were staring at the closed hand, unmoving. She couldn’t begin to guess what they were thinking; as a cold draft of air blasted through the now open gate, Anne curled in on herself, the biting cold filling her every thought.
The Gatekeeper looked to her, broken from their focus on the memory. Hesitantly, they approached her, standing before her shivering form. Then, they removed their cloak, heavy and fur-line, and placed it on Anne’s shoulders. Despite its warmth, it had a cool, comforting smell, something like pine or mint.
The cloak banished the cold immediately, wrapping her in an embrace that felt eerily like a hug. She stopped shivering, letting her look up to meet her guide’s face. Anne expected to look up and see something gruesome befitting the underworld’s Gatekeeper. What she saw instead was a beautiful face, framed in long black hair.
“Thank you,” Anne whispered, breath catching in her throat at the sight before her.
The Gatekeeper only smiled as they turned away, gripping their lantern as they led her through the gate. They passed the ruby-lined gates which began to close behind them, silently gliding until they closed with a mournful sound.
Thump…thump .
Anne lost herself in the cloak, as they continued the journey. Her mind fuzzy as she tried to remember the memories taken from her. When she fell in love, first kiss, their smell, their voice, their face—she knew what they took. That made it worse. Yet Anne found her resolve. She loved them, and if she had to give up everything for her to get Marcy back, then that was what she’d have to do.
The penultimate gate lay ahead, its face the same pitch black of the last five and lined with sapphires, glimmering like raindrops around the gate’s great frame. Though the Gatekeeper’s cloak kept her warm, Anne could see her breath as she walked, following her silent guide—it came as no surprise that no breath came from them as they guided her onward.
The Gatekeeper stopped, holding the lantern high, letting it take its place floating in the air behind them. They turned, the lantern light and the shine of the sapphire gate haloing them. Anne stared in awe—handsome in the lantern light that came shimmering through their hair, they looked ethereal, even with the grim expression on their face.
Lost in the appearance of their guide, Anne almost missed their next question. Opening their hand to her as they’d done five times before, their next words came in that hollow voice.
“Do you love them?”
Anne stared at the Gatekeeper. “What?” she asked, half clarifying, half hoping she’d misheard.
“Do you love them?” the Gatekeeper repeated, their lips never moving as they uttered the question. Their mouth only remained tightened into a tense grimace as they held their hand open expectantly.
“No…no please. Not this,” Anne begged, stumbling forward and tripping on the cloak. The Gatekeeper caught her with their other hand. Anne fell to her knees, gripping their cold, gloved hand and pressing it to her forehead. “I’ll give anything else. I’ll switch places with them, take anything else just please! Don’t make me forget that I love them.”
The Gatekeeper looked down at her, their grimace holding back barely restrained pain. A single frozen tear began to trail down their face as they said once more with a still mouth, “Do you love them?”
Anne collapsed in defeat looking into their dark, sympathetic eyes. She needed to do this. She couldn’t give up now. She’d find a way. She had to.
For Marcy.
“I love them. I love them so much. Even when we weren’t good for each other I loved them. Nothing I say can ever describe it—I can’t even remember a time where I didn’t love them. They’re my home and—and I—I—”
Anne’s words died as she began to weep, even as the memories of her love began to fade. Every quiet moment, every loving glance, every lingering touch, everything she’d ever done for Marcy out of love—she felt an undeniable abyss grow in her memory as they disappeared. With despair she watched as the Gatekeeper began to close their hand, a slight tremor in the grip as they shut their eyes and accepted the gift.
The gates opened, their sapphires, blue as the Gem of Heart, glistening in the lamplight. Anne stayed motionless on the ground, chasing the feeling of loss. A hole in her mind that encapsulated the breadth of her life haunted her. She looked up urgently, expecting the Gatekeeper to be leaving her behind. Instead what her eyes met was an outstretched hand and kind eyes. Anne thought for a moment that she should despise them for putting her through this ordeal, yet all she could feel was a warm, indescribable feeling as she looked into their cold, dead eyes.
Her mind stumbled once more as it stared into the yawning void of something missing from her mind. For Marcy? She was doing all this for Marcy? Why? No matter how hard Anne tried to remember why she was walking through hell for them, she couldn’t recall a reason why she should keep going for them.
And yet.
A feeling in Anne’s chest drew her towards her guide’s hand, hesitant at first, but with a burst of resolve and a tug at her heart, she reached out and took their hand. The Gatekeeper gripped her firmly as they pulled her back to her feet, then they turned, once more leading her through the gates. Behind her she heard the gates close, a sound now familiar to her.
Thump…thump.
For Marcy.
Why? Anne’s mind didn’t hold the answers.
So Anne followed her heart.
Even beneath the cloak, Anne shivered as she reached the final gate. Mirror-black and lined with gold crafted into intricate patterns, Anne watched the Gatekeeper go through their motions one final time. Lantern hovering, its golden glow made sharper by the gold of the gate, a final time they turned to her. A final time they asked for a gift from her.
“What is their name?”
Eyes and heart heavy, Anne felt her body sag in relief. A simple final gift, and yet even as Anne tried to utter her name, something in her hesitated. A name. That was all she had left of Marcy Wu. She knew she’d followed them down here for a reason, yet everything she knew about them had been stripped from her.
Their name was all she had to give.
Their name was all she had left.
Their name—the last thing she needed to sacrifice for the sake of getting that person back.
One last time, Anne’s heart filled with resolve: For Marcy.
“Marcy Wu.”
The Gatekeeper’s hand closed gingerly around the gift, the gate opening in turn. Its opulence silently glided over the ashen ground, revealing dark marble flooring lit by cold fire. Anne’s eyes turned to her guide who made no effort to move, only gesturing for her to enter the final, open gate. Anne hesitated until she looked into the Gatekeeper’s eyes; a ghost of a smile crossed their face and in its warmth, she found the strength to step forward. Behind her the Gatekeeper followed, their lantern remaining at the gate which closed behind them with a final, decisive sound.
Thump…thump .
Anne strode forward, a great hall lined with baked red clay and obsidian stretched before her, a processionway of bone clattered under her feet, and the heavy smell of funeral incense hung heavy in her nose. A throne of ever-shifting white sand stood at the end of the hall and sitting on it, deathly-still, was an axolotl, black as the void, and watching her intently with ten orange eyes. Anne stopped before the throne, the Gatekeeper passing her to stand between.
“Anne Savisa Boonchuy,” the Great Axolotl began with a familiar, dry, hollow voice, “I am Eresh, Queen of the Dead, Lady of the Great Earth. How long have I waited for you to once more grace my halls.”
“I…I’ve been here before?”
“Ten years ago you belonged to me, and yet you were torn from my grasp. Now I understand you wish to take another from my halls?”
“I have! I’ve come for…someone…” Anne searched the depths of her mind. Who was she looking for?
The Great Queen laughed cruelly. “And yet you can’t even remember their face, their voice, their name, not even what about them drew you here in the first place! Oh, but I am a fair queen, I will give you the one you seek…if you can find them.”
With a wave of her hand six people suddenly appeared before the throne, three on each side of the Gatekeeper, vastly different in appearance and each wearing a blank expression.
“One of the ones before you is the one whom you seek. Choose correctly and you may leave together. Choose incorrectly and both of you stay here. Forever…oh, and you won’t be needing that.” Eresh waved her hand again and the cloak of the Gatekeeper disappeared from Anne’s shoulders, cloaking the Gatekeeper once more in an all-encompassing shroud. The cold immediately struck Anne to her core. “You have until you freeze to make your choice.”
Anne began to shake as she looked at the line in front of her, staring back at her with dead, vacant stares. Every movement pained her as ice began to crawl through her veins. She needed to pick soon—logically she knew one of them could be the one, yet something in her gut told her, of the six pairs of eyes she met, none of them was the one she sought.
Steadily, step by excruciating step, she found herself drawn to one in the line. The one who had been her light in the dark. The one who had guided her. Her mind told her that this couldn’t be the answer—they weren’t one of the six Eresh had placed before her.
But her heart?
Her heart told her to choose them.
So Anne followed her heart.
“You,” Anne declared, standing before the cloaked figure, the Gatekeeper, her guide through the Seven Gates. “You’re the one I came here for. I don’t know who you are. I don’t remember your face, your voice, or anything else about you, but I know it’s you.”
Eresh stared, expression never changing. “Are you sure of your decision? If you wish to forfeit, I can assure you,” she broke into a smile, “I am ever gracious in victory.”
Anne nodded, tracing a gentle hand over their hood. Though she had no memory of the face that lay beneath, when she looked at them Anne felt her heart swell. Her words were guided by her heart as she said, “I’m sure.”
A moment passed, only broken as Eresh laughed, cold and cruel like the sound of cracking ice. Fear began to pool in Anne’s stomach, until the Great Queen leaned forward and said, “You have been a worthy adversary, Anne Savisa Boonchuy.”
With a wave of her hand the six others dissolved into dust, leaving her and the Gatekeeper alone. “You may go,” Eresh said, waving her hand dismissively.
“I can?”
“The Queen of the Dead does not lie.” With a tone of finality, Eresh spoke, the hall's braziers extinguishing, plunging Anne and the Gatekeeper into darkness. “May we meet again someday, Anne Savisa Boonchuy.”
With the Queen’s final words a light began to grow behind Anne. She turned, seeing the mighty black and gold gates opening, revealing the lantern left at its threshold. The Gatekeeper moved towards it, taking their lantern in their hand. They took Anne’s hand with the other, the cold of the underworld falling away at their touch.
“You’re the one I’ve been looking for, but I don’t even know your name,” Anne said as she fell into step beside them. “Who are you?”
“I’m Marcy Wu,” they said in their dry, hollow voice, “and I’m gonna guide you out of hell.”
Thump…thump.
The Seventh gate closed behind them as Anne’s memory returned.
“Marcy.” Like a tennis racket in her hand, the name felt familiar on Anne's tongue. “But who are you? I came all this way for a reason, but I can't remember what it is.”
“You'll remember soon,” was all Marcy said as they led her into the dark.
The Sixth gate loomed ahead in the darkness, opening as they approached with a steady pace. Marcy’s lantern lit the shimmering sapphires as they passed beneath its bounds. Anne looked through the gate before passing, a thought crossing her mind before she passed.
“I don't remember what you took from me here,” she said, stopping for a moment. I know what you took from me at every other gate…except this one.”
“This was the hardest gate. It was the hardest memory to take from you.” Marcy stopped, their voice somber. They took her hand, gently guiding her over the threshold. “Anne, you've always looked out for me. Since we were kids , you've always done your best to keep me safe. Even when it got to be too much I knew that everything you did for me was because…you love me. I’m your best friend and your girlfriend. Anne Boonchuy, I love you too.”
The gate began to close behind them as Marcy pulled her through, the memory of her love for them flooded her mind once more.
“I didn’t forget,” Anne whispered, staring into the void that still concealed Marcy’s face. “Even though I couldn’t remember it, I still felt it.”
An airy sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob came from beneath the hood. “Of course you did. You’re my Anne.”
Tears of relief streamed down Anne’s face as her mind remembered the love her heart could never forget. A heart that beat in time with the gate closing behind them.
Thump…thump.
The journey continued, the chill of death continuing to press in around them, yet Anne felt warm with Marcy at her side. The fifth gate approached, ruby-encrusted, and Anne’s heart leapt at what would be returned to her soon.
“Do you remember what you had to give up here?” Marcy asked.
Anne only responded with a nod, stepping forward and tracing a gentle hand over the edge of the hood. She drew it down revealing the dark hair, deep brown eyes, and the wide, teary smile of the one underneath.
“Your face. Your cute smile, your gorgeous eyes, your—” Anne moved to dive in for a kiss, yet Marcy stopped her.
“Not yet, Anne.” Marcy’s voice was firm, yet Anne saw the playful look in their eyes. “Only a few more gates left.”
Marcy pulled her through the now open, ruby gate, their eyes never leaving each other. Anne barely noticed when the gates began closing behind them, too lost remembering every contour of her girlfriend’s face. She only noticed when they closed behind her, letting out a heavy sound.
Thump…thump.
A wordless exchange passed between them as they continued upward—unspoken affection, in the small smiles, in the winks, in the love-filled expressions made an eternity feel like a moment, and soon they approached the fourth gate.
Emeralds, glittering green, like Marcy’s own gem, pierced through the darkness. As they approached the gate Marcy gained a bounce in their step.
“What are you so excited about?”
Marcy answered back with a question, their hoarse, hollow voice barely holding back their excited tone. “Do you remember what you gave up here?”
Anne nodded, though she was a bit confused. “The sound of your voice…but I’m talking to you right now.”
A somber look came over Marcy’s face as they said, “It’s the first thing she took from me . But now…”
The gates began to slowly open, a dance of lights scattering over the emeralds as it did. Marcy took Anne’s hand and guided her over the threshold. Their excitement grew as the gate closed behind them, practically bouncing out of the cloak they were wearing. They waited for the familiar sound of the gates closing.
Thump…thump.
And finally, they turned to her, and spoke. “Hey, Anna-Banana. Did you miss my voice?”
Their words bounced, almost as energetic as their body was, rolling and lilting in a musical way. Their voice was high, light, a bit nasally, and oh, so very Marcy . This was the voice that had filled her ears with countless facts. This was the voice that whispered, “I love you,” to her each night. This was the voice that Anne had nearly lost forever, more times that she’d like to think about. It was Marcy’s voice, and she found herself falling in love with it again.
Marcy, voice restored, began to do what they did best, and began to ramble. About the architecture of the underworld. About Amphibian death rituals. About the mythology surrounding Eresh, their would-be captor. And Anne listened, hanging on every word, every voice crack, every little quirk of their voice that made Marcy, Marcy. Once more eternity passed them in the blink of an eye—the third gate was upon them now. Almost pure black, Anne nearly ran into the gate, too enraptured by Marcy’s voice.
Looking up, a small smile graced Marcy’s face as they turned to Anne. “Do you know what you gave up here?”
“How you smell. I…I’m not gonna lie, compared to everything else, this one seems like, honestly not the worst thing I had to give up.”
With a smirk, Marcy pulled her through the now opening gate. “That’s not what it seemed like when I gave you my cloak.”
“Your…” Anne could barely finish the thought when Marcy suddenly wrapped her in a hug, enveloping them in their cloak. It was warm, soft, and safe. Marcy’s arms around her middle were a comforting pressure, but most of all, Anne noticed…
…pine, mint, the smell of fresh laundry, and underneath it all the distinct smell, familiar and sweet, of Marcy underneath it all. Anne felt herself relax into their arms; their scent, the smell of early mornings and late goodnights, of cuddling and nuzzling into their neck, wrapped her in a warmth that rivaled the cloak.
“Oh…oh,” was all Anne managed to mutter as she breathed deep and smelled, not the ashen, earthen, and musty scent of the underworld, but the scent of her Marcy.
“Anne…we need to keep going,” Marcy said with a small laugh, holding her tighter to them, before gently guiding her over the threshold.
“Ok,” Anne relented, “but when we’re outta here I’m never letting go of you again.”
Marcy only chuckled, her laugh accompanied by the gates behind them.
Thump…thump .
The journey upward continued, arm in arm, Anne listening to Marcy’s voice like a song in her ears, and holding them close, their scent nectar in her lungs. Every step, so torturous on the way down, now felt like nothing with Marcy at her side. Soon the second gate was before them, its bright, white silver lining shining bright in the darkness.
Without words, Anne and Marcy turned to each other. Without words, they pulled each other in, Anne’s hand finding its usual spot at the nape of Marcy’s neck, Marcy’s hands finding their place around Anne’s hips.
“I gave up my memory of our first kiss here,” Anne whispered as she pulled Marcy closer, her lips ghosting over theirs.
“Let me remind you then.”
Marcy closed the miniscule distance, and for a moment Anne wasn’t in the cold dark, but in the warmth of her LA apartment, the smell of outdoors and the kiss of the sun clinging to their skin, filling her nose. She was back at home, after a disastrous first date, Marcy’s foot iced and resting on a pillow. Most importantly she was in her girlfriend’s arms, their soft lips pressed into hers, their teeth gently nipping at her lower lip. Her first kiss filled her senses once more as the memory returned to her mind.
By the time they pulled apart, both of them panting to catch their breath, the gate was open for them, waiting expectantly for them to pass through. They crossed the threshold, hand in hand, sneaking quick kisses to each other’s cheeks. Unnoticed by both of them, too distracted by each other, the gates closed with an echoing sound.
Thump…thump.
Side by side, Marcy and Anne walked the final stretch. Time meant nothing to them, so long as they had each other. The great bronze gates were upon them, already opening as they approached. Through the opening, a pale, thin light pierced the darkness, growing ever stronger. Soon it drowned out the light of the lantern that had guided them for their whole journey.
Stepping forward and still holding her hand, Marcy stepped forward past the threshold, placing the lantern down in front of the bronze gate; slowly, it began to close behind them, leaving them bathed in the light ahead.
“Hey!” Anne called out as Marcy continued guiding her excitedly towards the exit. “I didn’t get the memory back from the gate yet!”
Marcy turned to her, taking both her hands, back to the brilliant light shining behind them. “Just give it a sec, Anne!”
Anne paused for a moment and…she remembered. A beach in LA, the sunset bathing it in orange light. A laugh that melted her heart and—
Anne looked up at her girlfriend, the light from the exit surrounding them in a warm light. They gave her a wide smile, full of affection, just the way they’d looked on that LA beach when she realized.
“The day I realized I was in love with you.” Anne's voice was breathless as she continued staring up at her girlfriend, still haloed in the light from the exit just like the sunset on that day.
“I told you you’d remember,” Marcy teased before walking backwards, guiding her towards the exit to the underworld, back towards the mouth of the cave.
Back towards the world of the living.
As they reached the cave mouth, the first gate finished closing behind them—a resonant and hopeful sound.
Thump…thump.
Thump…thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.