Page 119 of Seth
“I do…” Seth didn’t hear himself.
“Will I be judged for taking my own life? It’s a mortal sin, isn’t it? Do you think I see glimpses of hell in my dreams? Is it where I’ll go?”
Seth turned to Ignaz and looked into the dead sea of his soul. In the crystals of salt, he read guilt, grief, detachment, avoidance, fear—everything that weighed his shoulders in this life would follow him into another. It didn’t matter how brightly he glowed for Seth; his heart was heavy with guilt.
“No,” He mouthed. “You will be reborn. You will get another chance.”
“How do you know?” A corner of Ignaz’s mouth curled into a weak, appreciative smile.
“I just do.”
“Would be really nice.” Ignaz’s gaze turned dreamy as he looked at the waking sun. A first sunray, blazing through the room, cast a bloody gleam across his pale throat. Shimmering, it looked like an oozing wound. “If this is the truth, maybe we will meet again, in a better life.”
“Would be really nice.” Seth mouthed. Black vortexes rose in his memory, tearing at the ulcers covering the skin of the dying god. “Please, wait a little longer. At least, until you can’t bear it anymore.”
“Okay.”
They didn’t speak, and a tiny hope that Ignaz might change his mind sprouted in Seth’s chest.
* * *
Days flew by,but despite Seth’s best efforts to cheer Ignaz up, his shoulders folded forward. It was harder and harder for him to get up in the mornings as if every day added weight of silent expectation to him. More often than not, his focus turned inwards to places where Seth couldn’t follow. He didn’t listen or didn’t hear Seth anymore, as if his soul had already moved on, leaving only the shell behind.
Every time Seth entered Ignaz’s bedroom and saw the figurine of the bird they had made together, he felt tightness in his chest followed by a sense of bereavement. Hoping to stir any emotion and break them both free from the anguish of loss, Seth suggested Ignaz join him in the basement to sculpt something, but the boy never agreed.
Without Ignaz’s quiet voice reading books aloud, Seth also lost interest in glassblowing, and he couldn't find the energy to clean the mess he’d created. He stopped going into Ignaz’s bedroom for the same reason. He felt like he’d lost both his passion for glass and the person he loved. It had been more than a week since their last full conversation. Seth tried to escape reality by keeping himself busy, and spent most of his days in the studio, drafting.
He refused to sleep and only entered his bedroom for fresh clothes and to wash as if by avoiding dreaming, he could change the future, but despite his effort, it was inevitably catching up with him.
His watch buzzeddinner time when Seth entered his bedroom to change. The gloomy, lilac shadows of the sunset stretched over the floor, but it was still too bright outside to turn on the lights. A week without sleep added to his mental exhaustion, and he failed to instantly realize that he wasn’t alone.
Ignaz sat on the bed, shaking. His cheeks hollowed and his skin wore a grayish, unhealthy hue.
“Seth…” He shook his head, and his mouth twisted in a painful grimace. Maroon lines hatched his forearms as he thrust his hands forward. A straight blade squeezed in his white-knuckled fist as if he was scared Seth might take it away. “Help me. I can’t do it alone. I’m scared. I don’t want to go alone. I have been alone most of my life. Please, Seth, can you just be with me and hold my hand? I promise you; it’s not a bad thing. It’s a relief.”
Seth wanted to flee, refuse, or do anything to prevent this from happening, but the lack of sleep lowered the borders of realities. He stepped toward the bed, and the god spoke through his mouth, “It’s okay, Little One. You don’t need to do anything. I’ll make it all go away. There will be no more pain. No one will ever hurt you.” He grabbed Ignaz’s wrists, pressuring the points beneath the slashed veins. “It won’t hurt anymore. I promise. I’ll take care of everything.”
Under his touch, the bleeding stopped, Ignaz’s eyes blanked, and he nodded.
The sky hung low,swathed in clouds. When the air shifted, silver moonlight peeked through. Surrounded by the solid, wooden fence, the perimeter of the future building carried the physical echoes of daily activity. The mounds of clay and sand lay around the stripped-off topsoil layer, outlining the future foundation pit.
Ignaz slept in the car, parked next to the gates. Even though the sand bed had been laid out for two hours, Seth hesitated to wake him up. Dark circles outlined his eyes, skin tightened over his gaunt face, and even his lips had dried and lost their color. Still, Seth couldn’t stop looking. Ignaz was so beautiful, so perfect. He didn’t want to kill him, not when he’d finally found him. He couldn’t understand why the whimsical fate played such a tasteless joke. Seth reached over the driver’s seat and ran the back of his palm over Ignaz’s cheek. He could almost see the streams of energy leaving his frail body with every breath.
Why do they always choose someone else? Why do they always leave? Now Ignaz also chooses death over me. Maybe he wasn’t the one, after all.
It felt like a curse put on him centuries ago when gods walked the earth and people erected temples in their names. He couldn’t remember his previous lives, but he knew the god from his dreams had never been happy, had never known the bliss of loyalty and mutual love. He had only known betrayal.
Under his touch, Ignaz stirred. Heavy eyelids opened and closed as if the gesture caused him immense pain and effort. “Did we arrive?”
“Yes.”Seth’s fingers curled in a fist. A part of him considered sedating Ignaz, keeping him locked away, safe and warm, where no one would ever hurt him. It would be so easy to do. Just stab his shoulder with a drug and drive home. They would never have to part again. Maybe, just maybe, Ignaz would learn to be happy.
Instead, Seth got out of the car, pulled the rear passenger door open, and carefully scooped the weightless body into his arms. He couldn’t believe how quickly vitality abandoned Ignaz; he looked as if a terminal illness gnawed at him.
“Where are we going?” Slender arms clasped around his neck, bandaged wrists rubbing at his shoulders.
“Not far.” Loose soil dipped under his steps as Seth carried the boy away from the gate toward the line of machinery. He bypassed the crane, and the surroundings lightened. The towers standing on the other side of the Danube River couldn’t provide much light to illuminate the perimeter, but it was enough for Seth to watch his steps.
He stepped into the future foundation pit, approached the sand bed he’d carefully laid out on the large plastic film in the middle of it, and lowered the boy onto it. His fingers worked fast as he undressed Ignaz, loosened the bandages around his wrists, then shrugged off his own shirt.
