Chapter Text
“Can I ask you something?” Clancy asked, making that eye-crinkling smile he always did when he was with Torchbearer.
“Sure. What's up?"
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Torchbearer looked down and smiled, blushing as pink as a peony. Was Clancy being serious? What kind of a person did he think Torchbearer was? Of course he loved Clancy.
Torchbearer would still love Clancy even if he were the concrete that made up the walls or the gloom that surrounded Dema. He would even love him if he were anything at all. But he didn’t say that. All Torchbearer responded with was a simple “Of course I would!”
Now every time Torchbearer looks back at Trench, that memory is fed back into his head. God, he was an idiot. Why didn’t he just say more? There’s no way his quick, flustered “of course I would” really meant anything. It wasn’t anything like what he wanted. Clancy was everything to him, and Torchbearer knew that his best friend deserved more than just those four simple words. To be fair, he didn’t ever think the paragraphs upon paragraphs of words and phrases describing how much he appreciated Clancy could be summarized into a sentence. But now there was absolutely nothing he could do about what he said, and he supposed that it was fine for now. A couple words could never mean anything when it came out of Torchbearer’s mouth, but he never knew it would mean more when Clancy would say them.
Torchbearer didn’t remember exactly the first day he met Clancy, but he remembered how he was when he was with him. They would run among the hard pavement ground and stay up late to stare beyond the glowing gravestones that illuminated the ground near the walls - wondering and making up stories about what could possibly lie beyond. After they both grew up, they also grew apart. Clancy had places to be, and so did Torchbearer. Just a matter of growing up. Torchbearer learned to rebel early which eventually led to his early escape. Clancy had many questions regarding the city. Rightfully so. Many of them went unanswered, and that only blossomed more introspective opportunities in Clancy's head. Regardless of having no contact for the past 7 years, they both wished to return back to when they were children. Back to when they were young and still unaware of the cruelty and dreamless existence they had been sentenced to. The bliss of childhood was enough to mask the oppressive truth.
Their purpose being completely wiped from them had been what the bishops who governed the city wanted. More specifically Bishop Nico. He was the leader of the nine and acted almost like a father figure to Clancy. Clancy was given validation for doing his daily duties. Nico didn’t congratulate anyone else. Torchbearer could tell he didn’t really care about Clancy. Although, he couldn't tell if Clancy knew the truth. At that point, he hoped Clancy did.
The haze the bishops had put over Torchbearer’s head to make him believe their fabricated truths wore off well before he was even fourteen years old. He tried to preach the truth to the other citizens, but the city was nothing more than a crowd of dry eyes in a trance of obedience. After the bishops had instituted Vialism as mandate, they successfully eradicated the hope that many arrived with. The citizens' identity and humanity had been completely wringed out by the roughness of hands drenched in black paint and arms covered in red cloth.
People kept inside the colossal walls think like machines. The bishops turn the citizens into nothing more than their vessels. Their humanity is lost once their souls are met with the grey of this municipality, and with it goes their last glimmers of hope.
Torchbearer noticed Bishop Keons adored Clancy as well. This time, the look on Keons’s face looked a little more genuine. Maybe Torchbearer was just seeking out any hint of empathy from the bishops, but he was quite sure this bishop had a kinder heart. Clancy described him as the infinite flame that burned despite the rainstorm. He hoped their intuition about Bishop Keons was right. Otherwise, he would have gained their trust just to throw them away. It was apparent now that it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the case.
In between the walls of cement and the green of the continent of Trench, there lies a story between two lost souls. One between Clancy and Torchbearer. And to them, it felt as if they were the only people who existed.
This story will end, and there will be no continuing part. It is a cycle. Before Torchbearer finally reaches the start again, Clancy dies. No one will know except Torchbearer, and he will run to the top of the tower to save Clancy. Part of Torchbearer told him it would be pointless, but it would be unforgivable knowing that this time, the cycle could have ended. As Torchbearer draws in the same breath, he kicks down the same door just to find his best friend has again succumbed to the darkness of Vialism, with every trace of determination left inside of Clancy being replaced with the hopeless depression of authoritarian intentions. Clancy will offer Torchbearer a Bishop robe to continue the cycle once more, and Torchbearer will deny every time. He will step away from his best friend now draped in red and letting go of the promises that they made each other just months before. And every time Clancy turns away again, its going to hurt Torchbearer a little more. All he wanted to do was grab Clancy by the shoulders and force him to remember what they once had, but he knew there was no changing his mind. Though he must witness this torturous ending countless times, he will keep trying again for Clancy.
Because he knows that's what Clancy would have wanted.
In a drowning crowd of lives shaped like lines, their lives were circles. And every time they’d reach the beginning, the universe knew they were always meant to be intertwined. Reuniting never got old.
And Torchbearer getting to hold his best friend in his arms again never felt better.