Page 20 of Bright Blinding Ruin

Invictis hardly moves. He’s too big, too heavy, too immobile for me to shove, and that just pisses me off even more. I push him again. “I hate you. I hate you and everything you’ve done.” Another shove even though it’s pointless. “I was just fine being a nobody before your golden ass came along and ruined what little I had!”

I might not have had much, but it was mine. And, in all truth, there’s only one belonging I’ll never see again that tears me up inside.

But, wait. This is my apartment. What if—

The possibility that my dad’s picture is resting on my bed is the only reason I turn away from Invictis and hurry into my bedroom. My heart skips with longing; it’s the only thing I have left of my dad, something that reminds me I used to have something, I used to be someone… I used to be loved.

The moment I race through the open door, I see my bed is nothing but an unmade mess, no picture of my dad in sight. The weight of it all comes crashing down upon me, and I stumble forward, barely making it to the edge of the bed before I need to sit down.

I sit on the side of my bed and hunch forward as I bury my face in my hands. I should’ve known seeing my dad’s picture again is too much to ask for. Everything sucks, so why would I have that one ray of hope?

I want to cry. I do. I want to break down and let my emotions out. After years of burying everything deep, however, it’s not that easy for me. It’s not… I’m not—things don’t come easily to me. Some might even say my sarcasm and general sass is nothing more than a defense mechanism.

My life was falling apart before Invictis. I can’t blame him for that. What would I have done if I wasn’t transported to Laconia? It’s possible things would’ve only gotten worse for me. Homeless, unable to continue college, jobless. There’s no saying that if I wasn’t brought to Laconia things would’ve turned around.

But at least I would’ve had a chance.

Invictis must follow me into the bedroom; I hear footsteps on the old wooden floor. The wood creaks under the pressure of his weight, just like that particular spot always did for me. Can’t forget this whole thing is only a flicker, a memory made into reality.

“Go away,” I hiss through my hands. “Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone? I don’t—” I drop my hands from my face, my intent to glare at him and tell him off—something along the lines ofI don’t want to see your stupid face right now, but I can’t.

Why?

Because Invictis stands before me, holding a small picture in his hand. A familiar picture of a man I thought I’d never see again.

And he’s offering it to me.

I don’t take it. All I can do is sit there and stare at it. Invictis must sense my questions, because he explains, “We were bonded. A part of us still remains connected. All I had to do was push deeper.”

I meet his blue stare for a fast second before carefully taking the photo. He moves around the bed, to the small window in the room, where he leans against the wall and gazes out at the world.

The picture feels real. It looks real, too. It’s just how I remember it. My dad smiling at me after a long day of adventure at the zoo for my birthday. One of my fondest memories, the one that still burns brightest in my mind, even after all this time.

“You humans are so short-lived. You should be used to death by now,” Invictis says. “I do not understand the fascination with remembering the dead. It seems as though that would keep you from moving on, evolving.” His accented voice holds no trace of malice as he talks, simply offering his opinion.

I smile at the picture as I run my thumb along its right side. Inside my chest, my heart aches with everything that could’ve been. “The day this was taken, it was my birthday. We were at the zoo—we always went to the zoo. It was our thing. I thought it always would be. I never thought—” My voice cracks. “—it’d be the last time.”

A sigh leaves me. “Maybe you can’t understand it, but it’s not about moving on or evolving or constantly trying to be better. Life is about living, not trying to be the best. It’s about spending time with people you care about and remembering them when they’re gone… or hoping they remember you when you’re gone.”

I bring the picture to my chest and hold it there. “It’s about doing your best when you can. It’s about failing, making the most of your time while you have it. Being stupid, being silly. Having fun. Making mistakes. It’s about everything. Life should be lived.”

Even though it’s the hardest thing I ever had to do, I set the picture down and turn away from it as I stand and face Invictis. He turned away from the window sometime during my little speech; he watches me now, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Maybe you are a weapon, but if that’s the case, then someone wielded you. Someone who knew all of that, someone who should have understood the extermination of an entire kingdom is wrong.”

Invictis must think on it. That, or he has a flair for the dramatic, because he’s slow in moving away from the window.He walks around the other side of my bed, once again stopping when he’s within arm’s reach from me.

“The ones who unleashed me, who put me together before you,” he whispers, “wanted to see Laconia destroyed. Everyone in it. Everything in it. Zealots, perhaps, dreaming of a time when their kingdom was at war with Laconia. They visited every catacomb in the kingdom, gathered all of my pieces, and put me together. Their only wish was to see Laconia and all of its inhabitants perish.”

I can’t believe what he’s saying. It sounds like Fred was right, that Invictis does predate everything anyone knows about Laconian history. It sounds like Invictis was always here, though I don’t know who controlled him first.

But people from another kingdom came and, wanting revenge for some old war that no one in Laconia even talks about, unleashed him. They put him together and unleashed him, ordering him to annihilate everyone and everything.

“Where are those people now?” I ask. It’s funny, being stuck between Invictis and my bed, and I’m not uncomfortable. Everything he’s done, everything he’s capable of, but I don’t fear him. It’s a strange mix of emotions I feel.

“Dead,” Invictis answers simply. “When they wished for the destruction of Laconia and everything in it, they neglected to realize they would be the first to die.”

“I guess they should’ve been more specific,” I say. It is good they’re dead, otherwise I’d be tempted to hunt them down myself and make them pay for what they unleashed upon Laconia. Regardless of whatever war happened in the past, those people don’t deserve to die like this.

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