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It was all for nothing. Egg had been dead from the start.
Tired.
That’s all Wemmbu wanted to feel right now. The oppressive exhaustion—heavy though it was—was far better than letting the panic vomit out of him. He begged his mouth to stay shut. Nailing his tongue to his pallet. Iron. Iron trickled from his taste buds.
Cold sweat dripped down his back. Fabric clung to his frame. Every bunch of cloth nagged at him uncomfortably. He wanted to rip it off. His clothes were too much. His skin was too much.
The voice behind him was too much.
“Wemmbu,” Mane began. Suddenly realizing he’s fallen into his selfish habits again. Rushing ahead. Not considering how to properly navigate other people.
Mane had always been blunt. Made his intentions clear.
Instead of dressing his idea in carefully styled business attire; he yet again painted his prospects as a brightly coloured and overwhelming spectacle. He said something wrong. But what?
Tactless.
That’s how Egg had described him all that time ago.
Mane sighed. Struggling to find the right order of words, he tried his best,” look…I admit I was…rash. I gave up on you too soon. I shouldn’t have said you were a lost cause. I was just frustrated because you let someone weaker than you hold you back.” He flung his arms about as he spoke.
Wemmbu didn’t answer. He refused to even turn around. He yearned to have gambit back in his grasp.
“Wemmbu, I’ve been paying attention. I’m seeing everything you’re doing. What you’ve been able to accomplish without Egg!” Mane did his best to appeal to his statuesque, former student.” I want to give you another chance! Come with me!” The tall man gave an exasperated laugh,” stop working with this Arachnid guy! I don’t even know why you bothered helping him in the first place!”
“I’m not working for him anymore,” Wemmbu’s voice slipped out like hoarfrost.” I’ve lost my reason to.”
Wemmbu focused on his breathing. His was warm. Too warm for just having been out in the rain. On the contrary, his outer extremities ached for more warmth. Hot and cold at the same time. It only exaggerated the feeling in his stomach. Was it hunger or sadness? Wemmbu couldn’t properly tell.
Thunder grew distant. Wind carried it away like Arachnid did Egg’s life.
“Good!” Mane blurted. Avoiding asking for explanations, he continued.” You did the right thing though! You ditched Egg! You ditched Arachnid! You’re at a point where I can truly help you make progress now!”
Mane wondered if he should admit that he had once enjoyed Wemmbu’s company. That he was nervous to help the younger man if he wouldn’t help himself; If he risked his life for fruitless things. No. Wemmbu wouldn’t care about mushy, gooey stuff like that. And Mane knew he wouldn’t be able to express it the right way.
But still.
What else could be said?
How could Mane fix this?
Wemmbu turned around. His cocky, teenage gaze had grown into something worn and experienced. Wary. Weary. Like a small bait dog finally fighting back in the ring.
Wemmbu hadn’t grown much. He hadn’t put on much muscle. He hadn’t been training as hard as Mane had wanted. Clearly. But that could change. If Wemmbu would stop being so stubborn.
“I have no reason to make progress. Especially for you.” He sounded exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that lingers for too long and keeps you in bed past a reasonable time. The kind that makes you hate the effort it takes to just eat.
Mane faltered. He blinked stupidly.” Wha? What?”
Wemmbu hummed in response and nodded.“ Like you said. No more Egg,” Wemmbu’s grogginess slipped out. Dark bags pulled at his eyes.” So no more reason to keep training.” Wemmbu turned and trudged off through the wet grass. Struggling to keep his footing in the mud.
“What’re you talking about?” Mane hurried after him.” I just watched you win that fight without having to ban a single person! You were strong enough to keep them off of you without having to go all out! Ya, not banning them was kinda stupid, but I’ve never seen you strong enough to even consider that level of mercy.” Mane got in front of him.” It’s like you’ve been working twice as hard to get stronger! Twice as hard as when you were training under me!” His hands flew to his chest.” But the mercy thing is new.”
The shorter man’s eyes held fast in their distain. Mane remembered when those same eyes use to watch him with curiosity and excitement.
A small pang of guilt struck him like a javelin.
Mane had chose to protect himself. Protect his happiness. His pride.
“Just get out of my way,” Wemmbu said with a humourless laugh.” Since when do you talk so much.”
Mane caught the younger by the arm as he tried to slip away. A steady grip. Though careful. Careful to avoid the gash on Wemmbu’s arm.
Why had Wemmbu not just banned all of those lesser players. Mercy only brings aches and pains. Physical pains in Wemmbu’s current case. Lots of it. And since when did he care so much about strangers. Let alone strangers actively trying to kick him off the server.
Wemmbu hesitated to free himself. But he knew how this needed to end. Wemmbu backed away. His ribs dropped into his gut. His stomach threatened to burst. Wemmbu’s throat burned.
“Please come with me,” Mane requested calmly.
“I’m done,” Wemmbu replied rapidly.
“What do you mean ‘you’re done’?”
“I’m not fighting anymore.”
Mane laughed in disbelief.” You can’t just not fight. People are out to get you!”
“Let them try.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“A year ago you would have let me die if I was bleeding out in front of you.”
“That’s not true!” Mane protested.
“It is,” loosely kept emotion clawed at a crack in Wemmbu’s façade. Like a dog choking on its own chain. Nonsensically, continuously pulling at the restraint on its neck. Only making it worse. Stupid. Worthless mutt.” You abandoned me,” his voice writhed like fire under Mane’s skin.
“I was selfish!” Mane admitted. He regretted it immediately. Though he felt that was what his former student wanted—needed—to hear.” I thought you were going to get yourself killed! And I was protecting myself because I didn’t think I could protect you from your own actions!”
Wemmbu chuckled. A sardonic sound. Mane had no idea just how right he was about to be. Wemmbu had a firm conviction in what he was about to do if he could just get rid of Mane.
Egg was gone. He fiercely protected his friend for years. Drenching himself in blood so that Egg could remain as soft as he wanted.
Slowly, Wemmbu became something to be feared. To be used.
He had enough of the manipulation.
Arachnid had ended the cycle for him. Egg was gone. His way of life was gone. His world, his peace. His hope that humanity could be good was gone. All was lost.
For a moment Wemmbu’s eyes glazed over.
He remembered finding Egg on the floor of the cell. It was cold and dark. The stone was wet from ground water. It was stuffy. No air flow.
Who had Egg last spoken to? What were his last words?
How long had he lasted? A few days? He must have been scared. He must have thought Wemmbu left him.
Wemmbu would never.
He wasn’t Mane.
His soar throat dried. Aside from the blood on his tongue. His psyche clung to the moment before. How Mane’s touch felt just strong enough to keep him level. Grounded.
It didn’t hurt. Like how Wemmbu use to be able to rely on the fact that it was gentle. Like how Egg’s touch was gentle.
Mane’s hand was more calloused than he remembered.
Wemmbu wobbled in the mud. Squelching, wet grass flattened under his feet.
Mane spoke once more.” Just come with me and get cleaned up. Ok?”
“Egg’s dead.” That stupid mutt is going to kill itself if it doesn’t stop pulling.” He’s dead like you said he’d be.” Wemmbu looked up.” But I kept him alive longer than you ever would have done for me,” he spoke flatly.” Fifteen years.”
The older man hesitated.“ Wemmbu…” Mane outstretched his hands.
Wemmbu almost lost his balance.
“Fifteen years…” he repeated, sour faced.
The cold wind blew harshly on the freezing sweat of his brow.
Mane caught him.
A grim expression crossed the older man’s face. He pulled Wemmbu close. The endling’s breathing had grown irregular.
He was still bleeding from the fight.
This is exactly why he left. Wemmbu’s current state is what Mane had dreaded for himself. He was smart enough to not have to live through things to learn lessons. Mane had been smart enough to avoid suffering.
But at what cost?
This.
Mane held him tighter.
Mane knew he was a coward.
“I’m sorry,” was all Mane was able to offer.
Wemmbu, almost completely unable to hold himself up replied,” if you had been there none of this would have happened.” His voice cracked pitifully against Mane’s shoulder.
“I know,” Mane whispered.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Wemmbu went limp in Mane’s arms. The javelin twisted.
***
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Wemmbu stared at the ceiling. His head, arm, and torso, all wrapped up like a mummy. He dared not breathe too loud. Not to shift the wrong way.
As far as Mane was concerned, he was still sleeping.
His hands shook from the night terror. His heart still banging on his ribs. The endling imaged his ribcage bursting from the inside out. How quick of a death would that be?
It would at least be welcomed.
He steadied his breath.
He needed to get out. Mane would know soon. Wemmbu could never do anything unnoticed around his former teacher. Former friend.
The image of Egg’s corpse pushed its way to the forefront of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes was like shards of glass digging into his skin.
It hurt.
It hurt so much he couldn’t distinguish it from physical pain.
Tears welled, his chin pulled tight.
Every time he blinded. Not even in sleep was he free.
He sat up carefully. He cupped his face. He couldn’t cry. Wemmbu couldn’t risk it.
A familiar feeling returned. The desperation of being a little, scared kid trying to take care of another, more frightened child. Knowing that if both of them cried neither would have hope.
But Egg wasn’t here anymore. It didn’t matter if his throat burned. Didn’t matter if he cried so hard he lost his voice. None of it mattered.
He just needed to be quiet enough to get around Mane. Then, and only then, would it all be over.
Wemmbu scowled through his tears.
Stop crying.
Stop crying. Get up. Run.
He wiped his face dry and slowly stood. The heated wooden floor welcomed him. Mane always went the extra mile for his own comfort. What normal person bothered heating floors? He could sense a small bit of the smoke travelling beneath his feet.
“Afternoon.”
Wemmbu jumped.
Mane stood in the doorway. An unnatural looked about him. Nervous. The prick had the gall to be like some sheepish school girl in Wemmbu’s presence.
Hatred boiled within him. He hated the soft covers. The stupid heated floor. Wemmbu even hated the thick curtains that blocked out the sun. The same curtains that Mane use to hang in Wemmbu’s room when he had trouble sleeping.
Wemmbu looked away from Mane. A deep, guttural feeling wanted to pull him back down to the bed. Tie him there. Never allowing him to be free.
“You should have left me in the mud,” Wemmbu growled.
“I made you food,” Mane offered.
The dead don’t need food.
“I’m leaving.”
Mane pushed off the door frame. No dice. The guy was huge. And Wemmbu was in a lot of pain.
Wemmbu didn’t bother approaching. Though he thought of the window. No. Mane would catch him. And he didn’t have any of his items.
“Can we please talk?” Mane asked calmly.
***
Mane yapped and yapped. Filling in silences when Wemmbu refused to answer. He just sat there. In the familiar chair. At the familiar table. Wemmbu kept his eyes down. Steam wafted off of his untouched plate. He couldn’t hear a word out of Mane’s stupidly arrogant mouth. His ears rang.
Chained up again. The prison just looked different. And as far as Wemmbu could tell, no bodies.
“Just let me go,” Wemmbu finally stated.
Mane’s face contorted in frustration.” Have you not been listening to anything I’ve said?”
“Nope.”
Wemmbu stomach churned.
“Why can’t you just listen to me for once, Wem?”
His nose scrunched.” Don’t call me that!”
Mane’s ears flattened. They actually flattened.
A lump grew in his throat.“ Let me go, Manepear,” said Wemmbu, softer this time.
“Do you think I don’t know what you’re gunna do?” Mane’s lion-like tail flicked.
Wemmbu looked at him quizzically.
Mane leaned forward. Forearms on the table. The sound of skin and fabric against wood akin to sandpaper against Wemmbu’s ears.
”You left gambit behind,” Mane continued.
Wemmbu froze. Should he take a breath? Let one out? Is he holding his shoulders right?
Like a kid caught stealing out of the cookie jar, Wemmbu feigned innocents.
“You left gambit behind in the marsh. Egg is dead.” He shot up. Chair nearly falling over behind him. Wood screeched against wood.” THE SECOND YOU LEAVE YOUR GUNNA-!” Mane heaved. He stopped himself from finishing the sentence.
Wemmbu sighed and leaned back in the chair. His head rolled back. Shoulders slouched.
I really am doomed, Wemmbu thought.
Lazily, he rounded his head back down.
“Why would it matter to you?” Wemmbu questioned. No point in hiding it. So annoying. Nothing got past Mane. Now if he could only use that brain of his to…
Wemmbu shook off the thought. Mane was smart. He knew what he was doing. Wemmbu knew Mane had trouble with words. Saying the right thing. Mane, like Wemmbu, lived for chaos. Being delicate and methodical was never Mane’s forte.
But Mane’s actions were clear. He didn’t need to speak.
Mane left Wemmbu. Left their home. Wemmbu had convinced Egg to wait for two weeks. Convinced Mane would return for his things. Surely, if he wouldn’t come back for Wemmbu, he’d at least come back for all his stuff. But he didn’t. Mane started over. Mane chose to completely start over rather than return to that house and face Wemmbu.
Or so Wemmbu had thought up to this point.
Wemmbu ended up staying a month. Two weeks longer than he promised Egg. Now Wemmbu sat in the very chair he was apparently guarding from Mane. Mane did go back for his things. Just like Wemmbu thought he would.
And now.
Mane stood before Wemmbu like a bumbling fool trying to convince him—horrible failing by the way— to not kill himself.
“How long did you wait before going back for this kitchen set?” Wemmbu asked nonchalantly.
Mane grimaced.
“I knew you weren’t coming back for me. I gave up after a week. But I stayed three weeks more just to yell at you when you inevitably came back for your belongings.”
Wemmbu eyed the kitchen knife off to the side.
Mane’s jaw couldn’t decide if it wanted to be open or closed.“ I was.” Mane hesitated.” I knew. I knew you’d.”
“I proved your point. Why you left me. I almost died several times. He was dead from the start just so you know. I saw him captive just one time. I think he died shortly after.” Wemmbu said calmly. He laughed in dry breaths.” I hate how you figure everything out. It’s so infuriating. Everything goes your way.” A cruel smile crossed Wemmbu’s lips.” Did you know Egg was dead before I did?”
“No!” Mane defended.
Wemmbu wiped the sleep from his eyes. Bags still dark. His sleep had apparently been very light. As usual.
“Just…” Mane sat back down.” I messed up. I should’ve been there. I don’t even know what happened but I know I should. I should’ve been more involved. I… this time… this time I want to stay. I want to help you.”
Wemmbu shook his head.” If you want to help me, you’ll let me go.”
“You’re hardly in your twenties, Wemmbu.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Give me another chance. Please give me more time with you.”
“Nope.”
Wemmbu dove. Grabbing the knife, he kicked Mane back. Pain shot through his body.
Egg’s cold form lay limp at the end of the table. His lifeless eyes stared at the floor. His feathers melted into the wood. Wemmbu stepped through his wing. Screaming internally that he knew it wasn’t real.
Here and now!
Fear flashed in Mane’s expression. Wemmbu hated how easily he could read Mane’s half covered face.
It had to be here, and now.
Wemmbu wouldn’t have the strength to get away.
Wemmbu wanted a quiet place to think over his life. Think about Egg; his monotonous humour and how he never pushed Wemmbu out of his comfortable emotional solitude.
Think about time spent running, hiding, fighting, fishing, playing, laughing, cooking, bickering, reading.
How Egg braided Wemmbu’s hair. How Wemmbu sat listening to Egg’s monologues about nothing interesting.
Every thought would have lead back to Egg.
Time was cruel. Time sent Mane as her agent of disruption.
Wemmbu would not be so fortunate to be able to reminisce.
Wemmbu angled the knife.
Mane lunged. Going for the gash on Wemmbu’s arm.
The endling shrieked in pain. He dropped the knife. Wemmbu fought and kicked and screamed. Mane persisted.
All too easily Wemmbu became trapped in his former mentor’s grasp. Tears clouding his vision. Eyes scrunched.
Mane pulled him into a tight embrace.
Wemmbu struggled.
Mane refused to let go.
Wemmbu, drained, relented. He shook violently in Mane’s arms.
“Just breathe, kiddo.”