Refusal

Death is bitter. Its claws loom over every existence, ticking away at its invisible clock. One can't tell when or how it would hit. But it would certainly come knocking at one's doorstep. No amount of preparation will ever be enough. In the end, it will have taken until there is nothing left. Every person, animal, plant, organism, even the smallest pebble. Nothing can escape its cruel clutches.

Most people would say that it is unfair. It takes away without mercy and refuses to leave even a speck of dust at rest. Death is almost an antonym of justice. A word closely related in its nature, but opposite in meaning. It is unfair, unruly, and uncaring for anything and anyone. The latter is fair, tied by causal rules, and cares for those without it. It takes the same way that death does, but it does so only if one deserves it. At least that's what justice is supposed to do.

The boy slammed his fist on the rough slate beneath his bent knees, only to be stopped by the tight freezing shackles around his wrists. The coal-black metal radiated a faint red glow, filling him with a sense of dread. Bulky chains, attached to the ground with deeply impaled stalagmite-like boulders, left him no hope of escape.

He had no recollection of who he was, nor knowledge of where he was. His death was the only thing he was strangely aware of. Even though the boy didn't know how it happened, something told him it wasn't what he deserved. A voice begging to seek justice for him.

"You are to confess your sins,-" Raging voices bellowed above him, threatening to blow his eardrums. After instinctively raising his head toward their origin, the sight greeting him caused an audible gasp to escape his lips. Iridescent crystal statues as tall as a castle towered above him, gazing down upon his feeble stature. One could only guess how they made the massive bodies with little to no imperfections.. The cataclysmic clouds thundering above their heads made them even more frightening. After a long, silent break, they finished their sentence. "-Orion."

'Orion...' The name felt weirdly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he had heard it before. Like a fleeting memory that couldn't quite be grasped, no matter how hard one tried. It kept evading every feeble attempt at remembering. The unbearable pressure of the uncertainty left him no rest until he had figured it out.

The deeper he delved into his memories, though, the more his head pounded. Along with the increasing assault, the hazy images gained clarity. As the sharp pain continued to ravage within, the boy felt like his entire body was being torn to shreds. Yet, driven by an unknown force, he refused to give up. The voice inside had requested him not to. And although he didn't know where it came from, he listened to its plea without another thought.

Spread around the temple, higher Ethereals had their eyes open wide at the sight. Not due to awe, but confusion. "That's it?" Zyrax couldn't help but mutter. He wasn't the only one to do so. "They promised us a child of sin, but received a weak infant? Have the guardians gone senile or so-mph?" His ridicule ended abruptly when the hand of Myrea was hastily placed in front of his unfiltered mouth.

In a hushed, yet strict tone, he reprimanded his friend. "Have you? If anyone heard you disrespecting the guardians like that, not even praying to a god could save us." Looking at the others surrounding them, they were lucky this time. "Don't forget that I got you into your position. Don't drag me down with you."

Pulling Myrea's hand away, Zyrax calmly responded, "I get it, I get it. Don't you worry your muscle-filled brain about that. That is if there even is one." But his companion didn't seem too happy about what he received as an answer. "Myrea, my friend, my partner, you know I care about you." Zyrax's arm wrapped itself around Myrea's arm like a snake coiling its prey. "Won't you just let the past be the past and tell me what you think about this?" Listening closely, one could hear an inaudible curse word resound from the muscle body.

"You have lived for several hundreds of thousands of years. How is one minute the past for you?" It was obvious that Zyrax's not-so-soothing words didn't quite hit the sweet spot. "The past is the past. It's in the word." But he refused to change his approach. "That wasn't the case back when I dropped the fire flower nectar." Unable to refute Myrea's words, he was stuck in a dilemma. Forgive his friend and win now, or lose now and receive the replacement nectar he was promised. "Exactly." He chose the latter. 'Wine is better than friends.'

"Just do what you want. I don't care." Knowing that he would have acted the same, Myrea didn't have any qualms about his companion's decision. Instead, he answered the question from before. "I am sure the guardians have a reason. What if his outside appearance is only a facade to hide the gruesome beast he really is? Or maybe he found an artifact capable of eternal youth? Or maybe-..."

Seeing that he was going to go on for a while with explanations ever decreasing in viability, Zyrax chose to ignore his partner for the time being. Instead, seeking his own. But with no information about the matter at hand, he was bound to fall short in terms of an appropriate conclusion. "I will search the archives for something of use. Stay here and inform me if anything noteworthy happens."

Without waiting for a response, he headed toward the central archives, home to historic articles ranging all the way back to the realm's founding. If answers existed, they were bound to be found there. Myrea and the messenger could only catch another glimpse of his passing figure before he faded into the crowd.

Their focus returned to the boy gasping for air at the center of the temple. Whilst his body was still tense from his earlier inner turmoil, a frown had grown on his face. "So that's it, huh? I died in the end. After everything I tried, this is how it ends?" It was hard to accept that nothing he had done amounted to anything in the end. 'Even though I struggled so much.'

For someone of his age to survive the onslaught of three trained assassins for as long as he did was not just rare, it was almost unheard of. Although thinking about it, his feat would be forever unknown to ears and eyes beside his perpetrators. But the last words he heard before his light faded had been deeply engraved inside of him, constantly telling him how futile it was. 'Struggle can't overcome disparity...'

The truth of her words became clear when they stole his future. Try as he may, faced with true power, no struggle was enough. 'So I should just give up, shouldn't I?' "No." Orion whispered, fighting against the voices. "She's wrong." Deep within Orion's inexperienced heart, a spark was set ablaze, fueled by the revenge he promised himself. "I will show her, I will show them all, what it means to fight on and struggle when times are dire."

'I can't give up. Not until my father is safe. Not now, never.' Facing the menacing guardians standing tall around him, he asked his questions. "Who are you? Where am I?" Not even a shred of fear could be spotted, surprising the towering figures for a moment. "Dare to talk like that. Do you not place us in your eyes? Fine, we won't take it to heart." As the echo of their loud words died down, the ground beneath Orion shook vigorously. They continued, "But neither should you."

Slightly perturbed by what was happening, Orion steadied his kneeling stance. The crevices that covered the rocky surface enlarged, resembling a scaled-down image of the surrounding landscape. Archaic etchings appeared on the pillars holding up the upper ring of the temple. Since he couldn't decipher their meaning in the slightest, he concluded they were part of this place's language.

"Now, boy, will you confess your sins?" The letterings pulsated in tandem with every word they spoke. The temple suddenly didn't feel like a stone structure anymore, but something alive. Orion hid the slight fear he was feeling with a forced smile, refusing to give the onlookers any leverage against him. If they caught his facade slip for even a moment, they would abuse it.

"You have yet to answer my questions." They met his remark in silence. It appeared as though they didn't want to answer them. "What about my sins? What did I do?" Continued Orion, only to be met with silence once more. Sensing a theme, he gave it one last shot. "If you were as mighty as you seem, would you not do something about your hearing?" Eerie silence veiled the atmosphere in dread.