Chapter 721 - Fairy Tales

“I hate sitting still,” Zeke admitted, sitting on the bed and running his hand through his hair.  They’d been in the Shattered Hold for a week, at least by his count, and the novelty had begun to wear off.  It was much like going on vacation, except that instead of going home, he was waiting to go off to war. 

He glanced toward Talia, who lay on the bed, her head propped on one arm.  She was the only reason he’d found the situation bearable at all.  As much as he’d lamented the lack of real love in his life, he couldn’t deny that she was the remedy to that situation.  She loved him, and as unconditionally as one person could love another. 

And to his surprise, the feeling was mostly mutual.

A little uneven, with the balance tipped in her favor, but he did love her.  At least in his own way.  However, they both knew that she would never be the most important thing in his life.  In the hierarchy of his priorities, she came in a distinct third. 

His mission was obviously first.  Nothing could supplant that because, if he didn’t do what needed to be done, nothing else would matter.  Their reality would simply cease to exist.  Perhaps not immediately, but at some point.  Weighed against the extinction of all things, nothing else could compare.

But after that was where things got murky, and he knew that if things continued the way they were, Talia would ascend, passing the people of the Tower in the hierarchy of importance to him.  What did that mean for him?  Did it firmly establish that he was just as selfish as he sometimes believed himself to be? That he could place one person’s fate over that of millions of others all but confirmed as much, at least from his perspective.

Could he make peace with that, though?

Perhaps.  And that was part of the problem.  Currently, if he’d had to choose between one or the other, he would have picked the people of the Crimson Tower.  But with each day he spent with Talia, that would change.  He knew it, and so did she. 

Of course, Talia’s priorities were completely skewed as well.  She was unabashedly devoted to Zeke.  Given those same parameters, she would choose Zeke over all else.  Damn the tower.  To hell with the fate of all things.  She would pick Zeke.

That kind of devotion came with almost as much pressure as knowing that he was one of one, a unique entity solely capable of one day rivaling the Creator himself for power.  Perhaps even more, considering he knew what to do with the latter.  With Talia, he was lost as to what she needed from him.

And a little guilty, because he could trace that devotion back to when she was extraordinarily vulnerable.  Once, he might’ve considered fairy tales where the knight in shining armor saved the princess and they lived happily ever after to be a romantic ideal.  Most of human society had, and for the longest time.  However, now he could see just how manipulative such a situation was. 

Sure, he hadn’t saved Talia because he expected anything from her.  Indeed, there at the end, that hadn’t been quite as high on his list of priorities as simply staying alive amidst a zombie horde.  And he hadn’t been alone, either.  Abby had played just as large a role, and so had Tucker, in his own way.  Pudge, too, though he’d been barely sentient at the time, much less sapient. 

But Talia had latched onto him.  Even from the very beginning, she’d treated him differently.  Like her knight in shining armor.

Of course, that wasn’t to imply that she was some helpless princess.  She was powerful in her own right.  A fearsome warrior who had killed countless people.  There were likely stories circulating about her in the Eternal Realm – the kind parents tell their children to get them to behave.

Eat your vegetables, or Talia will come for you.

By all rights, she should have been someone else’s knight.  And yet, with Zeke, she played the role of the damsel. 

The power dynamic between them was one of the reasons he’d never before given her any romantic consideration.  However, he had to wonder what his life might’ve been like had he gone about things differently.  What would have happened if he’d seen her for the potential partner she was?  His path would have been vastly altered, and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t have ended up in Hell. 

At present, he knew he was in a spiral. He’d kept going for so long, so continuously, that he didn’t know how to even slow down, much less stop.  From his descent into Hell, he’d been forging ahead without thought for what lay in front of him.  He’d smashed through obstacles, one after another, without ever slowing down. 

And he couldn’t stop.

Just sitting in place for a week was torture on par with anything he’d ever experienced in Hell. 

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as his shoulders sagged.  “Do you know what’s odd?  I’d rather spend an eternity being picked part by giant crows than sit idle for another month.”

Suddenly, Talia’s hand was on his back.  Her touch was as cool as ever, though instead of the chill of death, it was comforting.  She shifted until she sat next to him, then leaned close.  Without saying anything, she said so much.  She was there.  She would support him.  She would be what he needed her to be.

But what did she need from him?

The incongruity of their relationship grated on him.  When they weren’t together, he rarely thought about her.  Only when she was close did he give their relationship any thought. 

“I just realized something.”

“What?” she asked, her sharp claws idly scratching his back.  Not enough to hurt him, of course.  Even if she could accomplish that feat, she didn’t use issue enough pressure.  Instead, it was meant as a comforting gesture. 

“Fairy tales are bullshit, aren’t they?”

For a moment, there was silence.  Then, she suddenly giggle.  A moment later, that giggle progressed into laughter as she collapsed onto the bed. 

“What?” he asked when it went on long enough to garner mild embarassment.

“Nothing,” she said between laughs.  “It’s just that…of course fairy tales are lies.  They always have been.”

“I know…”

“But then you say, all seriously, ‘Fairy tales are bullshit,’ like it’s the most profound statement ever uttered,” she went on.  “It isn’t, Zeke.  You know that, right?  Everyone knows that those kinds of stories are just that – stories.  They’re not ideals.  They’re not attainable, either.  They’re just meant to evoke emotions, usually in children.”

“Ouch,” Zeke muttered as she’d just compared him to a child.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.  “What I meant was that real relationships are messy.  They’re not neat and clean.  Happily ever after is a phrase meant to skip over all of that.”

Zeke frowned.  “I guess I watched too many romantic comedies growing up,” he sighed.  “Or too many Disney movies.”

“I don’t know what either of those thing are,” she admitted.

It was true – Talia hadn’t grown up on Earth.  She had no context for what a movie even was, much less the saccharine brand of film he’d described.  That was another reason he’d never considered her a potential partner.  There was too large a gap between their experiences.

Of course, the same was true of Adara, but if he was honest with himself, he’d never really expected that to go anywhere.  That relationship was temporary from the very beginning.  A coupling of convenience, though one that went on for the better part of a decade. 

On his timescale, that was barely a blink of an eye, though.

By comparison, he’d known Talia for most of his time since being reborn.  Their friendship was well-established even before they’d gotten together.  That was a much stronger foundation than he’d ever achieve with someone he’d met well into his journey. 

“Tell me about these romantic comedies,” she said. 

Zeke leaned back, his hands behind his head as he did just that.  “My favorite was always The Princess Bride…”

He went on to explain the movie, ending with, “I guess some people wouldn’t consider it a romantic comedy at all.  More of a comedic fairy tale.  But I think it fits.  If we’re talking about true romantic comedies, I would probably go with Notting Hill.”

He explained that one too, though there was a lot lost in translation.  Talia had some difficulty understanding the nature of celebrity back on Earth, which, to be fair, was ridiculous.  So, the plot was little confusing for her.  However, she eventually understood it enough to call the whole thing silly.

“It sounds like the entire thing could have been avoided if they just communicated properly.”

By that point, she lay next to him, her hand on his chest as she traced little circles with her claw.  “I guess that’s the point,” Zeke admitted.  “Most of them were like that.  Just misunderstandings.  But the whole reason they were popular is because they’d put two charismatic, likable people together and just watch the sparks fly.  I don’t know.  It also spoke to the romantic parts of us, you know?  The parts that wanted to believe in happily ever after.”

He let out a long sigh.  “Enough that some of us actually thought it was possible, I guess.”

“Do you think love is real?” she asked.

“What?  Of course I believe in love.  Just not fairy tale love.”

“Sometimes I wonder…”

When she didn’t immediately continue that thought, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“You know, about everything.  I’m self-aware enough to recognize how potentially toxic everything about me can be.  I’m damaged, Zeke.  Broken in a lot of ways.  We all are.  I like to think that there’s a glue holding us all together.  For me, you’re that glue.  I don’t care about most other people.  The entire tower could die, and I would barely blink.  I would try to save them,” she admitted.  “I’d fight for them.  But if I failed?  I wouldn’t think much of it, other than how it would affect you.  Or maybe Pudge, but that’s different too.  He can take care of himself.”

“I’m the glue that holds you together?”

“Pathetic, right?”

Zeke didn’t answer.  Not immediately, at least.  Instead, he just stared at the ceiling of their inn room.  “I don’t think so,” he said at last.  “I have my glue, too.”

“It’s not me, though.”

Zeke answered, “No.”  He glanced her way.  “I’m sorry, but it isn’t.  I was thinking about this earlier, and…well, you’re important.  Maybe second on my list.”

“Number two.  Just what a girl wants to hear.”

“It’s not –”

“It’s fine, Zeke,” she interrupted.  “I’ve always known that you have bigger things on your mind than me.  You lead an entire nation, after all.”

“That’s not number one.”

“Oh?”

“I care about you more than I do the kobolds.  Or anyone else in the tower,” he said, pulling her closer.  “But above everything else, I’m worried about the enemy threatening the very nature of our reality.  It’s out there, Talia.  I can still feel it worming its way into my mind, and it’s been gone for months now.  The only thing stopping it from destroying everything is the Framework.  And that’s only as strong as the Creator.  I know he’s failing.  Bit by bit.  Eon by eon.  He’s on the cusp of falling.  I can feel it.”

“And you think you can help.”

“I know I can,” Zeke said.  “That’s what this is all about.  I’m not just killing gods because I want to.  It’s not just so I can get stronger and achieve some peak that means nothing more than that I’m stronger than everyone else.  There’s a part of me that wants that, Talia.  I admit that freely.  That’s how I’m built.  I always need a goal.  A reason to strive.  But right now, that reason isn’t just being better than everyone else.  It’s about saving our reality.”

She frowned.  “Compared to saving all of reality, I don’t think it’s too bad being number two.”

“No.  No, it’s not.”

Then, he reached out to brush a stray hair from her face, and in that moment, he was reminded why she was so high on his list of priorities.  The following kiss reaffirmed where their relationship stood in the hierarchy of importance.