NO ONE

  Chapter XXI

  THE GODS OF GHOST RIVER

  “Then I noticed that I’m being moved towards the sound,

  to reach out with my hand, to touch, to help, to give comfort.”

  - Ralph Metzner, The Toad and the Jaguar

  Cold… a stale, sour taste arising, the growing hours since the dark beast stole my friend, the dread brews within my body without egress. I pace, a half mile to Bobbi’s silver sedan, and then to the overlook… back and forth ... Without his keys, the machine sits unusable, even as a shelter from the frigid jaws of the enclosing night. Debating with myself, should I follow the road homeward to find help, or wait in the hope that he might return? In a state of cognitive paralysis, I bury my naked hands into the depths of my charcoal coat pockets, my shoulders shaking against the descending temperature. My fingertips within the cloth cavity brush the marble badger and then move onto the perceivable contours of my phone, long switched off to preserve battery. I make my way back up the hiking trail to keep my muscles loose and warm.

  Wading through the dawning truth, my oldest friend… is not what I thought he was… maybe… not even truly human? No… more than human… a bridge between the living and something greater… something akin to… no… an inverse of… mirroring the being I’ve come to know as Navan’yu… Yet, there’s something errant about Bobbi… not like the other spiritfolk, none with the semblance of physicality, save the Mistwalker herself… no, whatever Bobbi is… is alive… not just at times a god made flesh like the Great Spirit. But a person… with a life so like my own… Yet the divinity alight within him so clear, I feel foolish not to have seen it. His untamed compassion too human to be human…

  My eyes fail to adjust fully to the blackness, making the canopy of stars overhead gleam with dazzling radiance. The arm of a galaxy encircles the skyline, of which I’m nothing but a spec of dust on a forsaken rock spinning around some faraway sun. A vastness that is the domain of the Two… lonely and mighty… inexplicably tethered here, in this instant, in this time, through near impossible circumstances… somehow, I’m here to bear witness. And what of Bobbi? What if he never returns, a casualty, consumed by the forces of nature he both is one with and is divided by? How could I live with myself? Even if I find my way out of this wilderness before the hypothermia gets me… got help and put together a half-baked explanation of the events as they unfolded… no one would believe me. It would be Nico’s death all over again, but this time, I wouldn’t be so lucky. Would my failure to protect my friend be what ends me? I have but one choice… to wait… and pray… Navan’yu releases him.

  I lean against the wrought iron guardrail, the depths of the canyon to Ghost River imperceptible in the gloom. In my mind, I know it’s foolish to stop moving, to let the chill in, but my legs ache with fatigue, losing the battle to keep pace with my compulsive walking. Sliding to a sitting position, I gaze up at the distant night, contemplating the Mistwalker’s whereabouts at this moment… could she be somewhere in the still desert… hidden… or did she steal him away someplace incompressible… akin to my descent into the fissure… through dimension, through the fabric of space itself? A series of uncontrollable shivers passes through me, my tongue gaining a strange, steely taste against the recesses of my clammy mouth. The stone mammal in my pocket feels cold to the touch, even though my fingers never lost contact with the mineral figurine. Moved to weariness, I feel my body slowly being enclosed in a sensation of blanketing warmth, my eyelids succumb to the weight.

  Awaken

  The disturbing timbre of Navan’yu’s words pull me from my empty consciousness, the grey and fuzzy resolution of my thoughts crystallizing in the darkness. Raising my trembling frame from the chilled sandstone and wrought iron, the night aged to the deepest velvet in my rest. The distinct resonance of shuffling… Heavy footsteps from somewhere down the trail, registers in my ears. A figure in the gloom, wisps of condensation their breath… Bobbi? An unmistakable silhouette, he lists, unsteady on his feet, as though drunk. I rush to him, in an effort to provide him stability. My old friend leans against me, a tremor running through his body.

  His voice weak and strained, he murmurs, “Take me home…”

  In alarm, I fumble with his pockets seeking the keys to Carl, hoping I don’t lose purchase on his near limp frame, “I’ll get you home… keep leaning on me, I got you.”

  “Sorry… being a bother… I,” Bobbi mutters incoherently, his words barely audible.

  “You’re good,” I reassure him, securing the hamster key ring, “Keep talking to me, bud. Stay with me.”

  “I’m… tired,” he whimpers, stumbling as I manage to catch him.

  Half carrying and half dragging, I pull Bobbi down the hiking trail in the direction of the silver sedan. Progress slow going, I steady my footing, resting him against my frame and the ground every ten feet or so. One of his off-brand sneakers detaches from his foot, a toe lays visible through the holes in his sock. Setting him down, I retrieve the shoe and endeavor to return it to where it belongs. With some effort, the footwear slides back on. Tying the laces tightly, I collect my thoughts, looking for a new plan.

  “Hey man, can you walk if I support you?”

  Bobbi answers in an aimless grumble I can’t quite discern.

  “I’m going to pick you up, see if you can find your footing,” I implore him, putting my arm around his chest, straining to bring him to a standing position.

  Bobbi slurs a muddle of words, of which I catch, “… yeah… trying… Ghost Man…” Rigidity returns to his frame as he pushes against the ground.

  “Good, focus on staying up! Don’t worry about the thinking part, I got that,” I encourage him, “Just keep walking!”

  Guiding him down the trail, we make it slowly to his car, Bobbi struggling to maintain balance as he leans into me. Maybe a half an hour from when we started, the outline of Carl becomes discernable in the deep black. Unlocking the vehicle, I get my friend situated in the passenger seat. In the sepia glow of the interior lights, his eyes appear hollow… dark circles visible in the indentations of his sockets, a haunted expression. I hide my disquiet, worrying that I might make his state of being worse if I mention something. I sit beside Bobbi, keeping a sharp eye on him as I adjust the seat and turn the engine over. All that I long for… is home…

  ???

  That sickening amber gleam of the lonely streetlight at the end of his block flickers menacingly as I pull up to Bobbi’s apartment, “Moment of truth, you sure you don’t want to visit the emergency room?”

  “No, I just wanna sleep,” Bobbi utters under his breath.

  “Alright, help me get you into the house,” I find myself pleading with him, “Just like what we did to get you into the car.”

  “Mhhhm,” Bobbi mouths in response.

  Good enough for me, I pull him to his feet, balancing him against my side, and guide him to the front door, his keys in hand. The apartment stands eerily quiet in its emptiness, as though all the life and warmth was sucked from it in our absence. Bobbi sits on the floor, fumbling with his sneakers, which he eventually removes, laces still tied.

  “You want me to help with…” I ask.

  “I’m alright,” he mutters, the acute state of shock that took him seeming to have eroded in part, over the course of our drive.

  He staggers to his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. Boots still on, I pull out my flip phone from my coat pocket and plug it into the wall by the futon. The stone badger finding a new home on the end table, my mind races. Bobbi certainly can’t take his shift in the morning in the state he’s in… no, I’ll have to cover for him. Reaching for the mobile to set an alarm, the time, 5:29 am, blares at me from the sea-glass green screen. No point in sleeping if I’m just going to be up again in thirty minutes. Wired from agitation, I find myself fidgeting with the buttons on my charcoal coat. Walk it off Riley, yeah, that’s what I’ll do… Ignoring the dull ache of my fatigued muscles, I slip out the sliding glass door.

  Somewhere shrouded by the night, O’chohca’s maroon to mauve colors lay invisible, only the outlines of the great mounds of sediment register in the dimness. Walking silently, the ground soft as powder, I steep in my despondence. I dragged my old friend into this… or was it as fated as the Great Spirit pulling me from Ghost River? Half dead… maybe, truly dead… I lost a hell of a lot of blood. That’s beside the point, what will become of Bobbi? Is he at risk? Is Navan’yu as bound to him as I am bound to her… divinity not as unconstrained as I once thought? Could this be the “untenable burden” Prairie Mother spoke of? Beings of unspeakable power victimized by the flow of events… beyond their control. Either way, the Mistwalker used me, convinced my miserable hide that I was important… chosen… to embrace a crucial undertaking on the path ahead… Navan’yu’s aim in seeking me out, I cannot fathom.

  I’m no one… From my saltiness for the dark one, arises a sense of… anger… at Bobbi? Guilt cuts me deep… Am I this petty? That I’d harbor resentment against my old friend… the actual chosen, something as divine as the Mistwalker herself, for being favored over me? Who knows what horrors Navan’yu subjected him to… not only am I being unfair, but it’s a heartless thing to entertain… No, I must let it go. I must protect Bobbi at all costs.

  The domed heavens shift to deep purple, signaling the arrival of morning twilight. A restful state of comfort takes me, I’ll live to see another sunrise. In the dim light, I scramble up the side of one of the multitude of the Vermillion Hills, without a care for the dirt permeating my fancy grey coat. Standing at the threshold of night and day, the magenta sky glows, only the planets holding onto their visibility in the sky. A beautiful thing to behold… I stare in wonder, a sensation of gladness to be a part of it all, held in my chest. From the shadowy corner of my eye, I sense a presence beyond my field of vision, somewhere beside me.

  Reflexively, I snap at it, “Fuck off!”

  The tip of Navan’yu’s black muzzle pulls forward as the form of the great beast turns to leave me to myself.

  “No… stay,” I exhale, changing my mind.

  Returning to my side, she sits tall on her haunches, drawing herself up to her full height, a familiar pillar of mane, fur, and wing, yet, without her natural state of bitterness. Maybe even a sense of fatigue to her being… as if a God could be weary. She lingers in an eerie state of stillness as small cotton fluffed clouds painted in coral hues arise in the distance, lines of neon color streaking across her ebony fur. I look up at her, unsure of what she wants from me.

  You

  The Invariable

  Of Our Age

  We Learn

  Through Pain

  The Mistwalker answers me in familiar broken phrases, yet her voice is my own, grating and rough. Not the elemental, ethereal, wraith-like quality I’ve come to know since my terrible summer. The uncomfortable utterance of her chosen cadence sets my teeth on edge. She’s mirroring me? To what end?

  “Yeah, no shit,” I feel energy in my voice, my fear of the Mistwalker lost to my temper, “You hurt me over and over… used me! And now you’re going after people I care about. Why? Why do you do it? Why do you keep doing it?”

  Shadow Flesh

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The Energy

  The Spark

  That Feeds The Fire

  The Cycle

  Exploding Stars

  That Which Unmade

  And Remade All

  The Mind

  The Essence

  Of The Untamed

  Chaos

  To Lay Ruin

  And Bring Forth

  From The Dust

  Is The Nature Of

  The Shadow

  That Envelopes Light

  The Great Spirit looks to me, her canine expression sullen, hanging on my response. I eye her critically, trying to discern her intentions.

  The Want

  To Mend

  Remains

  Still

  The Path

  Lies Uncertain

  Pain, Navan’yu’s facial features twist into a state of… anguish. Emotive in a new way, I study her body language, unsure if it’s a device to ease my troubled mind. Through her animalistic countenance it’s hard to detect her purpose, but her despair reads as genuine. Reaching up to her shoulder, I give her a reassuring pat akin to the encouragement one would give a pet dog. The dark beast turns her head from me in reaction, but her form remains anchored to the chalky earth.

  All Ways

  Are Arduous

  I quiet my soul, bringing my words to a whisper, “I died that night… didn’t I? All those months ago…”

  Her skull swivels back to me, those eyes wide, unblinking, her gaze piercing. The Mistwalker sways strangely as though trying to nod, without the ability to comprehend exactly why she’s doing it nor truly how to do so.

  “How am I alive?”

  Cold Water

  The Flesh

  Simple To Repair

  A chill runs down my spine, “It was you, wasn’t it… who drew me away from Prairie Mother… who showed me those terrible visions… of me caving in Nico’s skull…”

  The Lines

  Of That Night

  All But One

  Leads

  To Your End

  The Shadow

  That Envelopes Light

  Guardian

  That Protects Against

  Your Mortality

  One

  Lone Thread

  A Path

  Untraveled

  But Realized

  In Another Time

  The Death

  Of The One

  That Hungers

  Ceaselessly

  From Within

  All Possibilities

  You Survive

  In The Face

  Of Brutal Truth

  You Take

  Your Life

  In All Threads

  Of Time

  Navan’yu

  Shadow Made Flesh

  Gathers

  Your Spirit

  Sequesters It

  Within Yoo’O’

  Returning It

  For A Greater

  Purpose

  Speechless, I digest her words, the fragmented pieces of my past coalescing into a pattern that holds a larger significance, something I can make sense of. Navan’yu, in every outcome, is the only barrier to my death. Maybe, it would’ve been better to have just let me die, the way the lines of probability inevitably guide me. The pit of my gut drops, ‘Greater Purpose’ what horrendous thing awaits for me down at the end of my path. Am I just a plaything of the old ones, to be strung along until ultimately I meet some equally terrible fate.

  “Why me?” I push back against her words, “There’s billions of people, you could’ve picked literally anyone…”

  All Threads Of Eternity

  Flow Through You

  A Fixed Moment

  You Are

  And

  Always Will Be

  Matter

  And Time

  Pulled In Concert

  You Gather Them

  To A Single Point

  A Beacon

  To The Light

  That Envelopes Shadow

  The Mighty One

  Lost

  To The Cycles

  Of Mortality

  “Leave Bobbi out of this!” I fume at her, “I’m not some bullshit… snare you get to carelessly wield to imprison a god!”

  Navan’yu grimaces in surprise, taken aback by my sudden outburst, her ears flattening against her skull.

  “It’s not fair, and you know it!” I lay into the Great Spirit.

  In the heat of the moment, her mane stands on end, taking on a feral, crazed appearance. The being shudders, as though the molecules within her wish to disintegrate, to become formless rather than face my ire. The dark beast expels air, amassing her nerve, holding together the fleshy sinews of her material frame. Slowly, her fur flattens, her features taking on a dejected expression.

  Oblivion

  Eternal End

  Galaxies Descending

  To Entropy

  An Empty

  Cosmos

  All Things

  At Stake

  One Chance

  One Moment

  Or All

  Is Lost

  I fall silent, contemplating the weight of her words reflecting back at me in my own voice. Finding a seat on the ground, I draw my knees into a fetal position, covering my head, burying my fingers in my long hair. Navan’yu lays flat on her belly in the dirt at my side, her neck stretching out with uncanny length in front of her.

  Untenable Things

  We Must Rise

  To Meet

  “There’s nothing else… but forward,” I pull my head from my arms, “What must be done?”

  She turns her head, dragging it uncomfortably against the desert ground to meet my stare. The beast speaks, her words dire and hollow, even in my familiar tone.

  When Day and Night

  Return To Coequal

  You

  Must Lead

  Kiyteh’aa’sykanhi

  The Mother of The Vacant

  The One

  You Call

  Friend

  To The Sacred Place

  O’Su’ktah’Hu’hii

  Divest Them

  Of Nhokah

  Mortality

  To Rise

  Restored

  Ascendance

  The Voidmother

  The Point

  Stability

  That Binds

  The Whole

  “You’re asking me to destroy the person who matters most,” venom infecting my words, “NO! You demand too much, take too much… I’m done! Stay out of my life, and stay the hell away from Bobbi!”

  Climbing to my feet, I leave Navan’yu in the dust atop the mauve sediment of the hill. I glance over my shoulder, she stands sorrowful, her head hanging loosely on her neck. Sitting upon her haunches, particles of her animalistic form slowly disseminate from her body, her blackness silhouetted against the tangerine radiance of the rising sun. Bitterness lodged in my throat, I walk with intentionality, holding a prayer buried within my heart that I’ll never see the Mistwalker again.