THE EDGE OF NEVER
Compendium 2020 – Story 14
By Andrew Hawnt
Kalligan
strode through the gates of Never, sword drawn, chest bare, his skin
slick with sweat. The fight to get to the gates had been the toughest
of his life, but the battle he was yet to face would be even more
dangerous. He strode onto the wide bridge that was the famed
battleground of Never and looked ahead, not allowing himself to look
at the warped madness that surrounded the floating isle.
Watcher
Grey was there, waiting for him, bony fingers intertwined against his
heavy robes. The hooded old man nodded to Kalligan.
“Well
done, Kalligan Defali,” came his cracked, ancient voice. He sounded
like he was trying to remember how to speak. “You have faced the
trials and lived. You understand why you were given this quest?”
Kalligan's
chest rose with deep breaths. “I was called here by your monks,
Watcher Grey. Those who are called to join you on the bridge beyond
the gates of Never are tasked with killing their doppelganger,
similarly called from their own realm. I take it there is another me
at the other end of the bridge.”
Watcher
Grey nodded slowly. “There is. He is a warrior like you. He has
faced the trials in his own world and is here for the same reason. To
be the only version of you in existence. To maintain the balance of
things. There are infinite versions of each person across infinite
realms, but when two are so similar that their souls begin to
converge, they must face each other for supremacy or be removed from
existence.”
“Either
way, one of us will die this day,” Kalligan said bluntly,
tightening his grip on the sword that had ended more lives than he
could count. “My whole town has placed wagers on me walking out
victorious. I intend to honour those wagers. Bring the imposter.”
A
bony finger stretched out towards him. “Remember, Kalligan, that
your life will be visible all around you, as will your foe's.
Distraction by those visions will inevitably mean defeat.”
Kalligan
could see the stranger coming closer along the bridge. He too was
stripped to the waist and clutched an identical sword. “I fear
nothing. I have no ties that will distract me.”
“That
is good to hear,” said Watcher Grey, “as it is you that is being
challenged here. Your life converged with his so closely that the
ether almost cracked from the outpouring of emotional turbulence you
gave off. You were like a beacon.”
“Then
let this beacon shine brightly,” Kalligan snarled through gritted
teeth. He fought back the urge to stare at the skies as they moved
and transformed into a tapestry of his memories. Love and loss and
hate and retribution played out around him like dreams.
“Speak
your name and your challenge,” Watcher Grey said to the newcomer.
“Faran
Stilia,” said the man who was physically identical in every way to
Kalligan. “I stand here as summoned, ready to fight for my right to
exist. I understand what is at stake and what I must do here. Watcher
Black has told me of you at the far gates of Never. You're Kalligan.
Understand that I take no pleasure in this.”
“Nor
I,” Kalligan answered, and charged.
Their
battle was brutal and relentless, each of them matched evenly in
terms of strength and swordsmanship. Between the flash and impacts of
blade against blade, there were body blows by fist and boot, lunges
and parries and vicious kicks.
Kalligan
kept his eyes on Faran. He would not be the one to feel cold steel
pass through his body today. Kalligan pushed on, sweat burning his
eyes as his foe matched every blow and swing with one of his own.
Above, around and below the floating isle of Never, their intertwined
lives played out in orbs of moving images, separated by searing
coloured light where the membranes of realities crashed together like
heavy waves. Kalligan forced himself to ignore them, while Faran had
glanced around them a few times. Doing so had seemed to give him more
fight and make him push harder to claim Kalligan's life.
The
temptation was finally too much, and Kalligan shoved Faran back,
affording himself chance to look around. As he did, he froze and let
out a pained howl. Not from an injury, but from the sights around
them.
Kalligan
tossed his sword aside and fell to his knees. He looked to Faran
through eyes blurred with tears rather than sweat.
“Take
my life,” he cried out to his opponent. “Take it quickly.”
“Kalligan,”
Watcher Grey called out from the side of the bridge. “What are you
doing?”
Kalligan
again gazed around Never as the flurry of images played out in all
their beauty. He let out a tortured wail, then looked to Watcher
Grey. “His life, this Faran, has meaning. I cannot fight him any
more.”
Faran
looked to the images above him that had given him strength. A boy
swam in images from his birth and through his early years, up to
images of him around the age of ten. “My son, Kei. What import is
he to you?”
“Look
at my life in these strange dreams around us,” Kalligan called out,
pained. “You can see my wife carry my world's version of Kei. His
name was Jorin. You can see his birth on the same day as your son.
You can see the same baby there. What is missing?”
Faran
lowered his sword and stared at the life of the identical Kalligan.
“I see him as a beautiful newborn... and then nothing.”
“Yes,”
Kalligan wept. “My wife is also missing in the days after that.
They died, killed by a disease that swept our village when I was away
labouring for the council. Your life... I can see how Jorin would
have grown. How he would have thrived. This is both beautiful and
horrifying. Please, take my pointless life. Kei needs you.”
Faran
hesitated. “How can I kill you? You have been through such horror,
how can I be cruel?”
Kalligan
wept. “It would be a mercy. I have the greatest victory here. I
have seen the boy my baby son would have grown to be. I... I concede.”
“You
must take his life,” said Watcher Grey, “or forfeit your own.”
Faran
raised his sword. “I'm sorry, Kalligan. And... thank you.”
Kalligan
raised his eyes to the swirling heavens, fixing on an image of Kei, a
fine boy of ten, looking into his father's eyes in the past as
familiar hands passed him the fishing rod that had been repaired. His
soulful eyes seemed to stare right at Kalligan from across time, and
while he knew the words were not aimed at him, Kalligan felt them
most apt.
“Thank
you, father,” Kei said with the sweetest of voices and the
brightest of smiles from the lost moments that surrounded Never.
Faran
swung his blade.
©
Andrew Hawnt 2020
===
About
Compendium 2020:
Compendium
2020 is a project from author Andrew Hawnt that consists of 52 weekly
stories encompassing science fiction, fantasy and horror. They are a
mix of short stories and flash fiction, 100% original and written
throughout 2020. Why is he doing this? To keep the words flowing. To
keep the ideas coming. To dance in worlds that are his and his alone.
To prove that he can.
About
Andrew Hawnt:
You
can find Andrew on Facebook at facebook.com/andrewhawntauthor and on
Twitter and Instagram as @andrewhawnt. Formerly a musician and DJ,
Andrew is known for his books, comic book writing, music journalism
and more, including fiction in Doctor Who Adventures, the Judge Dredd
Megazine and others. Look out for his film work soon.
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