Don't Fear Death [Marceline Anicetus]

CLAWED MY WAY TO VICTORY

Red irises cracked open and glanced around at their surroundings, taking in the surrealism of the world they had just entered. Slowly, the woman pushed herself up to a seated position, raven hair cascading around her gown as she fixed her position she was in. A paled hand ran through the dark locks, pulling strands out of her face, so that she could get a better view of what was around her. Carefully, she lifted herself to her feet and dusted off the dirt that had collected onto her from where she had lain on the ground. She heaved a heavy sigh and looked around once more, thoughts running through her head as she decided what to do. With no real information about Dreamland, the best that she could do was wander around and hope for the best to happen. However, she didn’t know what to expect here, just that she knew she could not die and anything else in here could not die as well.

Dreamland was not a terrible place to be; in fact, Dreamland had such a surreal feeling to it, that it gave the world a beautiful feeling. Everything was so much brighter here, so much more vivid than she would have ever thought for them to be in the real world. She almost didn’t want to leave this place, but she knew that her time wasn’t to be enjoyed in here, though rather to help those trapped inside of Dreamland. They were people of little significance to her from her understanding, but people that had somehow gotten caught in the strange world. At this point, she wasn’t quite sure if Dreamland was a place at all, but a monster that fed upon the Life Force of those that lived. A figment of their imagination, dying to grasp hold of them and drag them down into oblivion, where they could never return from. Why nightmares though? Why terrify the ones that it wanted held captive? Was that the only way it could sap their Life Force from them?

Her feet began to carry her in a random direction, her mind too preoccupied by other things to really notice where she was going. She gazed longingly from one side of the land to the other, taking in all of the scenery as her feet brought her to her first destination. The farther she moved away from where she had lain, the more she began to notice the scenery became drearier and drearier. In a way, this made her curious, but at the same time, it was like she understood why the world had become that much darker. Dark hues crawled along the silent wasteland the deeper she went, sapping away the pleasantry of the world she was in. Every step farther that she took made her want to turn around and go back to the light than deeper into the shadows of nightmares. Something prevented her from turning around, something that she couldn’t quite grasp, but allowed to carry her to the first person she had to save.

Save. . . who knew that a Sinner of all people would be the one to descend into a place, known as Dreamland, and rescue rather than terrorize. Who knew that such a strange enigma as herself had the capability of coming to the rescue of those that needed her help? She had been destined to live alone, destined to hurt than help; yet, here she was, standing in the desolate landscape of a once peaceful place. It reminded her of Sin in a way, with how cold and forgotten the place had become compared to the life it had once been filled with. Now, she was roaming Dreamland as though it was just a replica of Sin, itself, haunting and drawing monsters out from the dark. The ache of not wanting to be here clawed at her bones, but her feet found no rooting and continued the way they were going. Nothing was stopping her from getting to the first person, no matter how deep, dark, and scary the world started to become to her.

Horrified screams filled the air, screams that if they were not listened to closely, it would be hard to discern who they were coming from. They were screams that she recognized, but screams that she also didn’t know who they belonged to because of the years of separation. These screams caused her to push her feet to move faster, carrying her across the blackened ground and into the shadows of someone’s nightmares. The darkness of the world, however, disappeared just as abruptly as it had began, bringing her into a land filled with light and happiness. Only, this place wasn’t happy; this place didn’t feel like it was a dream to her more than it was something haunting another person. She could feel it in her bones, the ache of wanting to get out of this nightmare and it overwhelmed her like it overwhelmed the little girl in the corner beyond. Red optics bore down upon the redhead, a look of concern crossing over their light before they looked away to take in the scenery.

A hiss filled the air, one that was gruesome and animistic, but didn’t exactly sound as though it was coming from a mammal or reptilian. Marceline glanced toward what would be considered the ceiling of the nightmare, only to notice an eight-legged monster hung over the girl. She frowned, eyebrows scrunched together, mind racing with thoughts on how to deal with something from Dreamland that could not be killed. Her first tactic was to attack, to draw the creature away from the child, but she knew that wouldn’t keep the creature at bay for long. It was a manifestation of the child’s worst fears, and the only way to get rid of it was to reassure the child it would never get her. Pressing off the heel of one foot, Marceline rushed toward the redhead and slid down onto her knees, grasping hold of the child in her arms. The child before her, it was her own, and it was her duty as a mother to show that nothing would ever hurt her little girl.

“Warum tust du weinen, meine Kind?” she murmured into the child’s ear, pulling her close to her so she could not see the monster above. She tightly wrapped her arms around Madison and let her bury her face into her shoulder, feeling the tears soak into her sleeve. Marceline cooed softly and rocked the child back and forth in her arms, petting her hair and keeping her close to her. “Bist du bange von die Monster unter deine Bett?” The question loomed in the air as she pressed her cheek to her daughter’s head. Combing her fingers lightly through the girl’s head, the woman waited for an answer from the fearful teenager in her arms. “Erinnern was dich gelernt. Wie du wirst woher von du bist gehen. Niemand wird du stoppen. Tust nicht sie lassen stoppen du. Tust nicht lassen deine Ängste stoppen du. Überwindest deine Ängste. Zeigen sie du bist nicht bange. Du bist der Nachfahre von ein König und Königin. Zeigen sie du bist mehr als gerade eine kleine Mädchen bange von Monster unter ihr Bett.”

“Aber Ich bin bange, Mama,” she whimpered into her shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of Marceline’s dress as she cried. “Ich bin bange es wird mich und du schmerzen. Ich bin bange Ich werde nicht von dies wiederkommen. Ich bin bange Ich bin allzu schwach.”

“Seitdem wann bist du allzu schwach?” Marceline inquired, pulling Madison away from her and looking her in the eyes. “Du bist der Nachfahre von ein König und Königin, wer sind beide stark; tust nicht glauben du bist nicht stark genug.”

A soft sniffling came from Madison and she watched as the child wiped tears from her eyes that stained her shirt and her own. Marceline gave her a soft smile and pulled her back into a hug, holding her there as the hissing of the spider slowly died away into nothingness. “Ich glaube heinen du, meine Kind,” she murmured into her ear, “Ich glaube du dürft gegen deine Ängste herrschen, und am meisten von alle, Ich liebe dich.”

Marceline felt the grip on her tighten and she squeezed back, rubbing the teen’s back softly as a means of comfort above all else. It was hard for her to be mothering, but she had seen it done enough in her time on Earthland that she could easily mimic it. Yet, a small part of her told her that she was not faking what she was saying to Madison in order to get her to feel better about herself. A small part of her was telling her that she was doing the right thing as a mother and comforting her child that was in need. All of it was new to her, but Madison seemed to be aware of what she was doing and accepting of the love she was giving her. Her undying heart? For a moment, it felt like it beat with the warmth of love, like it had not beaten in millenniums since her death. She gritted her teeth against the tingling feeling and for once in her life, she felt like crying out of love rather than out of loneliness.

She was beginning to see why the scientist had allowed her to enter Dreamland, not because she needed help, but to help her find herself. And that was what she was doing; she was finding herself among the lost and helpless, who she was meant to be. The hissing of the spider died away into silence and the darkness of the surrounding world began to lighten into love and affection. What she held in her arms stopped crying and when she looked down at her daughter, her form began to fade into particles of light. What she had done was successful, freeing her child’s spirit from what it was trapped it, so that it could return to the living realm. Whether Madison remember what had happened in her dream or not was beyond her own thoughts and not something she could think on. With others to save, she had to get a move on or who knew what would happen if she took too long in saving those that were trapped.


Despite how pleasant the world looked to her, an inkling of a feeling crawled deep within that told her otherwise about Dreamland. Her gaze ran across the newly lit world, where Madison had just sat shortly ago, crying and bawling her eyes out about spiders. Spiders that loomed over her head, reaching out to grab ahold of her and drag her into the depths of despair over her lack of choosing. That’s what they had stood for, her fear of having to choose between two things that meant more to her than the world. It wasn’t the fear of spiders, themselves, they were just insects of lore, creatures that came to you in your dreams when they knew you lacked decision making. They made you think about your decisions, intimidated you into making the right one, and that was why she was scared. And it made her realize, Madison’s fear of being too weak, of choosing the wrong decision that would hurt someone, it was the same as hers.

Glancing away from the scenery, Marceline continued on foot, walking through the empty field that had once been a closed off room. Her eyes were downcast to the ground before her, never wanting to move upward and look at the beautiful place of Dreamland. It was all a lie to her, in a way, something that tricked a person into believing that they were safe and sound when they truly were not. All these people that she had come into Dreamland to save, they were trapped by their own fears, unable to ever escape themselves. Why would a place, known as Dreamland, keep its visitors from going back to the world they were meant to live in? More and more, she was beginning to think that Dreamland wasn’t a land at all, but an illusion that was created by a monster. That alone made more sense to her than a place as innocent as a dreamworld trapping people inside by their nightmares for no simple reason she could think of.

Marceline’s eyebrows scrunched together as a feeling drew over her, a crawling sensation of fear and wanting to get out of the place. At long last, her eyes began to notice that the grass she had been walking through had changed from thick to small patches across dirt. She noticed quickly after that the feet that carried her across the ground were not their usual gray, undead pale that she was used to. They were paled still, but had a healthy glow to them that gave way to her being alive over her being the undead she truly was. Each foot was dressed in a strange piece of fabric that only covered the tops of her feet and had beads that dangled off the sides. Her legs were very nearly bare until about knee-height, where harem pants covered the rest of her from those she was walking toward. Around her waist was a type of sash that had dangles similar to the beads on her feet, but they were flat, round, and tinkled with every step.

She looked up to see the world around her, only to notice that where she was at was a place she had yet to recognize here. Her arms were bound behind her back in shackles and chains, but held tightly where they bruised by two men that were each on one side of her. Marcy glanced between them and tugged at their grasps to test how strong their hold was, but found they only tightened with each move. Every movement that she made, it wasn’t her though; they were movements that she made, but her mind didn’t tell her to make them. It was as if they were being made by someone else, like someone else was controlling her body and trying to get away from them. They threw her down to her knees before a man that sat on a bamboo throne, leg crossed over the other, head resting on one hand. Lifting her head, Marceline glanced through long, pink hair, anger running through her veins as she was forced to remain on her knees.

The man before her didn’t say anything, but with a flick of his fingers, she was taken up by the two men and thrown into a cage. She hit the back bars of the cage, but wasn’t winded or hurt by the toss; instantly getting back to her feet and charging toward the open door. However, they slammed the door shut before she was even able to touch it, causing her to grab hold of the bars and scream out at them. Marceline couldn’t hear what she was screaming out at them, just that she knew and felt that she was screaming out at them in vain. When they were gone, she felt tears begin to spill over her cheeks and she cried, sliding down to the floor of the cage while still holding onto the bars. This pain, this fear, she recognized it so well from when she had been little, herself, locked away in her room in the castle. It was hard for her to not feel for this girl, whoever she happened to be, and it made her want to help her get out of the horrible situation.

So, she sat down with her, in her mind, looking around at the emptiness that shrouded what kept the girl so happy in life. “Who are you?” she called out into the darkness of Morgana’s mind, “and is this who you truly are or are you hiding from yourself?” She was only returned with silence, but that did not stop Marceline from continuing with what she planned on doing. “Answer me. . . tell me your name and who you are because I know this is not the girl that Life sent into the world as people’s guide.” A small part of her felt she like she already knew who this person was, despite truly having never met this girl in her entire life. “If you won’t tell me who you are, then let me tell you because I think you need to know exactly who you are and what to do.” Again, Marceline was met with silence, as if Morgana was trying to avoid answering her, trying to avoid acknowledging that she was here.

“You are Morgana Hart. You are a guardian spirit of the people and of light. There is nothing that can hold you down. You are freedom.” Marceline stared into the emptiness until she began to see a small light form in front of her, slowly, but ever-growing in size. “You are a mother to the people of Earthland, you guide them in their times of need. You are a spirit who cannot be bound or captured.” The light continued to grow until, at long last, Morgana stood in front of her, a look of sorrow on her face as she listened to her words. She stood to her feet and approached the spirit, staring eye-to-eye with her, a stern look on her face as she let the words sink in. “You are Morgana Hart. . .” she began, only to be interrupted by the one being that was afraid to answer her calls at first.

“A guardian spirit of the people and of light. Nothing can hold me down. I am freedom,” Morgana finished the mantra Marcy created for her.

A smile crossed over her lips as she listened to the spirit repeat what she had told her word for word as though she meant it.


“I am a mother to the people of Earthland, I guide them in their times of need. I am a spirit who cannot be bound or captured. . .” Morgana continued. “I am Morgana Hart, I cannot be bound or captured, and there is nothing that can stop me from being who I truly am!” The same smile that crossed over Marceline’s lips were now plastered widely on Morgana’s, as though the happiness was returning to her.

“Not even the darkness that you fear can stop you; you are a spirit of light, shine that light where the darkness is most apparent and the darkness will go away. Never be afraid of something that is more afraid of you; show that you are the one in control of your life and cannot be held down.” She reached out and grasped hold of the woman’s shoulder, giving it a small, comforting squeeze of hope and resilience against her fears.

Morgana, in response to the squeeze, pushed her hand away and pulled Marceline into an embrace that was meant to thank her. It took her by surprise for a moment, but she returned the hug, holding the woman there for as long as she wanted to be held there. What was nice to see was that she had given the woman inspiration enough to know that she was not as trapped as she believed herself to be. “Continue your life not in fear of what’s to come or what may be hiding in the shadows. If you are afraid, simply shine your light upon it. When you do that, things will become clearer and you will have no reason to fear that the darkness will consume you and your hopes.”

“I give thanks for what you have done for me,” Morgana answered her, “you have shown me the light just as I would’ve shown people their light.” She began to fade into particles of light just as Madison had, leaving Marceline in the emptiness of what had once been the campsite.

That was two people she had saved and, to be honest, it had been a lot easier than she had expected for them both to be. It was kind words and hope that allowed for them to be untrapped by their nightmares and look for the hope she gave them. She hoped, herself, that they would continue to remember what she had told them in their nightmares and perhaps, prevent them from anymore. But when she looked back upon the two she had saved, she couldn’t help feeling that, in a way, they represented her own fears. Silly to think of such a thing, but what had been given to her felt that they were the same as her own fears, just shown differently. Perhaps, they were not even real people she had to save, but figments of her own imagination that allowed her to see her own fears. Letting out a sigh, Marceline began on her trek again, pushing aside the thoughts as she sought out the next she was meant to save.


Each step that she took, she found it to be harder to take the next, as though something was holding her back or she was getting weaker. Eventually, she came to a stop, staring ahead of herself and finding that no matter how she tried to move, she just couldn’t move. Soon, she dropped to her knees and knelt there, simply staring across the landscape as it slowly changed from one place to the next. She found herself no longer kneeling in a campsite full of human cages, but a room very similar to the one she grew to know so well. Her red eyes glanced around at each piece of the scenery, taking in what it gave to her and how it haunted her mind to see it again. Panic slowly began to settle into her bones, but as much as she wanted to get to her feet and run away, something held her down. It forced her to stare at the bedroom she had grown and died in, haunt her with the memories of past she no longer wished to remember.

She raised her hands to her head and combined her fingers through her hair, pulling it outward so she could see what it looked like. What had once been black locks that shaped to her form were now golden curls that looped endlessly to the floor where she knelt. Tears trickled down her cheeks and collided into one at her chin before splattering to the ground in a clear mess no longer the black she shed naturally. Her eyes wandered from the wooden floorboards where her hair decorated its base to the plain walls that lacked any form of enchantment to keep the eyes busy. No decorations, no paintings, nothing that would make the room feel more vibrant and happy than it did dreary and plain, almost sorrowful. Voices echoed just outside of the doors to her room, just inaudible enough that she was not able to determine what they were saying. The urge to cry out for help or acknowledgement ached in her, but she found that she had no voice, just as she had no strength to move.

Yet, just as the room had been created, the room quickly disappeared and she was left in the darkness of the Dreamland world once again. Marceline blankly stared at the landscape around her, the empty darkness that consumed her very being and encompassed her safely. She didn’t know how to react or respond to such a sudden disappearance of the room that she had been haunted by for millenniums. However, she felt safer with not being able to see it than she had when she was locked away and hearing the muffled voices beyond. But the comforting of the darkness quickly faded as the room had and she was left in a strange place with no familiarity to her. A room that made her wonder who it belonged to and why she could not familiarize herself with such an odd environment as this one. Slowly, she stood to her feet and glanced around, swiftly noticing that she was not the height was used to seeing everything at anymore.

Concern crossed over her face, but she meandered around the room to have a look-over of what exactly she was standing inside of. Beyond her reach was a twin bed, gently made and covered in a sheet that had a flowery pattern of various soft colors that complemented each other. Before that was a wooden chest that was, oddly filled with clothes all neatly folded and set aside to never be used again by the one who owned them. No toys littered the floor, but a rug stood in front of her, passively giving the room a pleasant feel compared to what she felt before. The room was less of a worry than what she looked like, feeling shorter than she had before and less like herself she was used to. Again, she ran her fingers through her hair and found that it was short, and pulling it into her view, it was a darker blonde than her own. A frown creased her lips, her eyebrows scrunched together, and as quickly as she held her hair, the hand holding it went limp and fell to her side.

“What is going on?” she inquired to herself, though the voice that called out the question did not sound like her own voice at all. “Why can I not feel my arm? Why does it refuse to move? It was just working a moment ago, it has no reason to stop working!” Panic began to settle in her voice, tears edging at her eyes, the one arm that still worked moved to grab hold of the other and move it around. She could feel every bit of the movement, it was just that she could not get the muscles in her arm to appropriately work to get it to move. The fear settled quickly into her body and tingled all over, forcing her heart to race to the point it felt like it was going to burst. Wait. . . she was not meant to have a heartbeat, yet here she felt the beat of her heart racing in her chest like it was the most normal thing ever. Who exactly was she and why was she as weak as she was? Why could she not move her limbs like she so wished to do at the moment?

Holding her weakened arm, the woman rushed toward the door of her room and reached out to grab the handle, twisting it open. Yet, the moment she turned the knob and pulled the door free of its latch, her hand became numb and limp just like the other. Tears pricked at her eyes again, a loss of understanding as to why her limbs up and decided that they no longer wanted to work. She didn’t know who to call out to for help, just that she had to call someone for attention, to get their attention and hope for help. So, she screamed the one word that she thought she would never call out to anyone in the millenniums that she had lived, “Mom!” And as soon as she called out that single word, footsteps came rushing from somewhere inside of the strange home to her aid. A silhouette of a woman skidded to a halt and knelt to her knees, pulling her daughter into her grasp to help her calm down.

“I can’t move my arms, Mom. I’m scared! Why can’t I move them?” she inquired, the words spilling out of her mouth like a waterfall. “They were working just fine a moment again, but seconds later they stopped working and fell limp, and now I can’t move them!” The tears began to spill down her cheeks and stain the cloth of her mother’s clothing with the fear that she was feeling over the situation.

“There’s nothing to fear, Honey; we’ll figure something out,” her mother answered her in an attempt to reassure her everything will be all right.

Yet, she didn’t know if everything would be all right; she had never experienced this kind of fear or hopelessness in her entire life. She felt as though nothing would go back to the way it was, that she would be left to wonder when all of this would take her pain wholly away. And for once in her life, she felt like she could sympathize with the girl because on the day of her death, she thought the very same.

“I’m so sorry, Sakura; I wish I could tell you more, but I just don’t know, Sweetie,” her mother’s voice rang into her ears again.

Marceline frowned and even let out a tiny, inaudible sigh, wanting to help the girl who was fearful of her own disease and body. “You know, I was scared at one point as well; I didn’t understand what was happening to me and I didn’t want to die, just as you feel. But I learned something, living in fear of your own self is more harmful to you than it is to live out your days to the fullest. You may have a short life and you may not get to experience everything that you want to experience, but see what you get to see in the time you have now. Once you leave this world, it’s not permanently; you can choose to live again as someone else or live out your eternity in a land where no such badness exists. This world offers you so much and you should not be afraid of what it gives you, but embrace the hardships it gives you to overcome.”

“How can I experience a world where I cannot touch or feel the things that I wish to?” Sakura inquired softly, sniffling as she spoke. “How can I experience a world where I cannot walk to go to the places that I wish to see, smell, and hear? What do I do then?”

“Get the help of others; you are not in this alone, never think you are alone. Look at your mother,” Marceline answered her. “She is there to comfort you and help you through the illness that you so fear, not to harm you or leave you to suffer. I did not have that when I went through my disease; all I had was myself and the longing wish that it would end my suffering quickly. Do not fear illnesses and do not fear your own body when you have people around you who will help you get through it. It should not make you feel trapped, but rather help you to experience the world from all points of view, no matter how horrible it may seem.”

Another sniffle and she felt Sakura wiggle free of her mother and try to rid herself of the tears that stained her dirtied cheeks. “You’re right, there’s no reason to fear something that is fleeting, but rather to embrace it as an experience and learn to grow with it. Thank you.”

She smiled at her words and gave a small nod of her head, not saying anymore to Sakura as the scenery began to change around her. Despite being a Sinner, despite being someone who harmed those that she tried to help, it was not her main interest to see them suffer. What she wanted most was to see them happy and to enjoy Life to the fullest, just as much as she enjoyed watching Life grow. And with three people saved from Dreamland, she felt she was getting better at interacting with them and solving their issues and hers. They did not seem scared of her and that’s what she liked the most, but perhaps it was because they could not see what she looked like.


All those years ago, she believed that she wouldn’t have ever been able to escape the cage that was known to many as simply her room. She remembered constantly staring out the window and watching her siblings playing in the gardens with each other, wishing she could join them. Everyday, it became a routine thing to sit at her window and listen to them screaming and laughing, living out their lives unlike her. Her windowsill often had chipped painting because of how often she cried and wept that she would be allowed outside for once. Yet, every time that she asked, she was told no because it was too dangerous for someone who was as weak as she happened to be. But, she didn’t feel weak, she didn’t feel sick, she felt perfectly fine, and so, she felt she was being denied what she wished for the most. So much so, that she began to believe that she wasn’t the King’s daughter, but a slave who was set to be tortured for the rest of her life.

She longed to breathe in the fresh air of the outside world, but even trying to open her window was a feat that was impossible for her. No, she didn’t have weak muscles, or weak anything for that matter, the window was nailed shut in order to keep her from opening it. That was something she didn’t understand, but quickly came to accept that she would never be allowed to experience the world beyond her room. More and more, she became a slave to her own castle than one of the heirs to the throne, and the light was slowly starting to shine down on her. Her father didn’t love her like the rest of the children, that became clearer to her the longer the days passed by with no word from him. The only interaction she ever had with him was if a servant of the castle had been cast up to her room in order to feed and, essentially, “water” her. Though all the food she ate and all the drinks she drank, they were items that she eventually threw up in a bucket because of their foul taste.

Somehow, or someway, her father was trying to poison her she believed, and thus, she started to throw up anything that he gave to her. She lost her trust in someone that she loved so dearly, but no matter how much trust she lost in him, she still had a profound amount of love toward him. He may have hated every ounce of her being, but she loved every ounce of his being and would do anything to get his attention. Although he treated her horribly, she became closer and closer to him, her mind quickly deceived by thoughts that yes, he was merely trying to protect her and she should listen. Her body, however, was slowly deteriorating just as he wanted, leaving her weak in both the mind and the body by the end of her time. And her time quickly came as years swept by, and before long, she was lying sick as a dog in only bed she had ever grown to know. No friends, no family, all she could do was stare up at the ceiling and wish the pain away, until at long last, the pain finally disappeared.

They were nightmares of her own, she quickly came to realize, all these people representations of things in her life she wished no longer to feel. She shouldn’t fear to hurt people because no matter how hard she tried to make everyone happy, someone else was always going to be sad. The illness that she had in her original body was no illness at all, but the torture of a father who didn’t love the daughter he created. No reason did she have to fear such a thing when she could embrace the evilness that her father had once been before his own death. Nor should she ever feel as though she was caged because never once in her life was she truly caged like she had been when she was little. And only then was it a small thing that she had to remember was in her past and did not have to fear ever happening again to her. Being her own person, she had the capability to create her own fate; no reason did she have to feel that it was otherwise for herself.

And so, when she saw that brunette standing before her, shackled in chains that hung precariously around her and attached to large, metal loops, she felt sad. The girl that stood before her didn’t look happy-go-lucky, but Marceline could feel that she had once been a bubbly and friendly teenager. She could sense the jealousy and greed that lay within, but they were all so buried by the happiness she felt, she merely dismissed it. But the happiness she came to feel from the girl, that was buried beneath fear and sorrow that were now apparent on her face. Marceline wanted to call out to her, but no matter how she tried to get the girl’s attention, it was clear she was not yet meant to interact with her. No sign was given showing that Fenghuang had seen her in the dark and moldy room that they were currently standing in, let alone felt her presence. So, she took this as her time to study Fenghuang, to see how she was meant to help this girl escape from the nightmare she was having.

What she didn’t understand was why Fenghuang was shackled in such a small room that had no space for air to come through. It was like they were suffocating, but at the same time, they were able to breathe and move around in the room like it wasn’t some sort of torture chamber. But who had shackled her to the ceiling and flooring? Who was cruel enough to leave her limply standing there, waiting for death? Marceline wandered around Fenghuang, her gaze raking the girl up and down as she took in everything that was laid out before her. Only then did she begin to notice that Fenghuang wasn’t properly dressed, her clothing was tattered and some of it lay on the ground in pieces. They were ripped and torn over her arms and legs, but it was more apparent that they were ripped and bloody on her back. This gave way to evidence that Fenghuang wasn’t here of her own accord, but rather that she had been captured and thrown into this hellhole.

She was held captive in a place that she longed not to be in, tortured by her captors with chains and whips that bloodied her body. Marceline gritted her teeth and glanced around at the room, but all that she saw was only the moldy, stone walls that surrounded them. Instinctively, the woman reached out toward the chains that bound Fenghuang to the ceiling and grabbed hold of them in her hand. Lightly, she jangled the chains, hearing them move around with her weight as she tugged and tried to pull the girl free of her shackles. Her actions caused Fenghuang to stiffen and look around, as though she was afraid that someone was here to whip her more. This caused Marceline to frown in sorrow, hating seeing the young girl so fearful of her own life at even just the slightest of sounds. She stopped moving the chains and let them go, letting them clatter and move around until they came to a stop on their own.

“Don’t be afraid, Fenghuang, I am not here to hurt you,” she spoke out, letting her voice envelop the girl in the tiny space they were in. “You are not ready to pass on quite yet; there is more to this world for you than you realize and you have yet to experience it. What I am here for, however, is to help you get free of these chains because no one should be forced to live bound by the laws of others.” And that was the truth, she believed that no matter who it was, who they were in the hierarchy of the world, they were lawmakers of themselves. Never should a person ever feel obligated to follow the laws of another person because that person has more authority than they do. They could make and follow their own rules and never fear to be punished for disobeying the rules of another person, who apparently had more power than them. That was the goal of Savage Skull. To see it through that people could follow their own laws and live life how they wished to live it.

And so, with that being said, the woman reached out to the chains and grabbed hold of them, letting them melt away with her touch. “You have been whipped and held captive for far too long, and that is something that I will never stand for,” she spoke again. “The reason to this is because when I was smaller, my father did the same thing that is happening to you right now, and I do not like that. For so long, I was held captive in a room, unable to open windows and breathe in the outside world or eat the food given to us by Earthland. Slowly, I starved to death by the hands of my own father, and while it may not be whips like you have dealt with, they were whips to my consciousness. So, I sympathize with you and wish nothing more for you to go free of this nightmare that has held you bound for so long. Do not let these fears stop you. Overcome them and show the world that you are stronger than what they see you to be.”

She let the chains drop away, freeing Fenghuang was from captivity she was held in, and watching as the girl looked to her in fear and confusion. No other words were exchanged between the two before the girl stood clumsily to her feet and ran toward the open door of the chamber. Marceline stood silently where she had freed the girl, solemn faced and holding the chains that had once held Fenghuang bound to destiny. Only to toss them away and exit the room, herself, no longer wishing to be where it reminded her too much of her own past. No, she wasn’t fearful of her past, she hated it though, she hated every ounce of her father and the more her memories pulled through, the more she hated him. However, he was long gone now and she had no reason to feel such hatred toward him now that he was not within the living realm. Yet, she couldn’t help to feel the disdain toward him that crawled through her veins and made her want to lash out at the world.

WC: 7,144

CLAWED MY WAY TO VICTORY

Death was a very strange topic for Marceline, not because Death was her father, but also because Death was herself and a part of Life. To watch people die was the worst thing that she could do and she constantly lied to herself the reason behind why they died. She did not see herself as the killer of those who died, but rather the one who took their souls to their eternal resting place as a means of comfort. It was others who killed people, not her, and it was she who went to those who passed on in order to assure them they were safe. They were out of harm’s way and did not have to fear their spirits would be whisked away to a place they did not want. Repeatedly, she told herself that it was not her who killed the innocent, but the innocent who died on their own or by others hands. Marceline refused to see herself as the killer of Life’s gifts, but she knew deep down that she was the one who took their lives unwillingly.

It was an unconscious task; she did not have to give a moment’s thought about someone’s life being taken in order for them to die. Her magic had a mind of its own and it was her magic that killed those who came too near to her or were meant to die that day. She had no means of stopping and she had no way to stop it if she had the means to because it was something that could not be completely controlled. Death magic was the bane of her existence, but it was something she had been birthed with and only came through after her own death. Strange how in order for her life’s magic to activate, it had to be her father who was the one to kill her in order for it to take effect. That was the thought she hated most; how it had been her father who had activated her magic, like he wanted her to be cursed. Perhaps it was all because of her mother’s own death; how she took her mother’s life in order to be given life, herself. . . only to die years later.

Her fear was seeing people die by her own hands, but seeing them die by others hands, that was something she could easily live with. After all, it was a part of life and destinies were created by the people that lived life, who were able to control others destinies just as well. A person who slaughtered another, that was controlling the one’s, that was slaughtered, destiny, as well as controlling their own. If caught, they would be sentenced to a life in prison; if not caught, they would be living the life of guilt realizing they killed another person. Everything was laid out before them, they could control their own destinies, but they could never control what Fate laid out before them. Everyone had multiple paths they could take, all that would lead them to some sort of end, but they could never change their own fate. Should Fate have something in mind for a person, whether it be to choose between life or death situations, whatever they choose would lead to the same or similar consequences.

And what would a person do if they were left without the ability to choose between the decision that they were given to lead into their own fate? What if that person did not have the choices that everyone else did, but was forced to follow along one path to their own demise? What would the person do then? Pray that whatever Fate had in store for them was something they could live with until their death? If a person could not control their own destiny, how would life be for the world? Everyone with a set destiny laid out for them. It made her wonder what it would be like if everyone was not able to choose their own choices and had to do what was fated for them. How would she act if she was forced to kill consciously and watch as those people died before her very eyes and in her hands? Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. She couldn’t fathom having to watch them as she ripped their souls from their bodies for the sake of satisfying Death.

When an assassin was faced with death, did he stand and quiver on his feet or did he continue on his path to what his master destined him to do? He was never afraid to do what was asked of him, even if it meant that he could lose his own life in the task set out before him. It was his job to see through that his task was finished and only then could he peacefully die, knowing he served his master correctly. Death was the last thing that was on his mind, but the first thing that came to mind as well, so that he could efficiently prepare himself. Yes, Death often stood in his way, but an assassin was not afraid to go face-to-face with such a beast if it came down to it. His job description easily stated and proclaimed that he would do all that it takes to bring down the person that his master wanted annihilated. Death did not scare him and he did not have any reason to fear Death, and perhaps, that’s why Inaris easily stood in front of her.

She remembered that fateful day Inaris and she had met, crossed paths with one another as the youngster made his way to his nightly kill. It was with Dubhlainn, her trusted servant, someone who had been by her side despite all of the things she had done to him and the guild. Inaris, he was fearful of them both, but at the same time, she had felt that he wasn’t scared of them in the least bit of their intimidation. No matter the sense of fear that radiated off her in her presence, the child had never once succumbed to the feeling and wanton fears. Easily, she could stand before him without him bowing to his knees in defeat of her own aura that cast out the sense of fear. Utter terror. That was the true assassin she saw in him and knew that he could grow to be a greater one if he chose the right path. But never once did she offer him a better life as one, but watched as he turned toward the light in hope for help from his doomed life.

Now, the child lay before her, on the ground, staring up at her with a solemn, but almost fearful look in his eyes as she loomed before him. She smiled down at him the sickest of smiles that she was capable of smiling, not because she wanted to, but because it felt right. He was doomed to meet his own death, doomed to never be able to kill the innocent ever again because of his own failures. Something about that thought blossomed a feeling of pride in her mind and she wanted to watch him suffer the consequences of his actions. But she also knew that was something she could not do because it was not in her nature to let others suffer no matter what they had done. Death was an unbiased entity and it was not in her right to let someone suffer because they had done bad deeds in their life. Everyone made mistakes, even she had made mistakes, and thus, she had no right to leave Inaris where he lay before her in a paralyzed state.

“What? Do you think that I will help you in your time of need when I watched you kill your own family?” she inquired softly to him. “You are an Anicetus, my blood runs in your veins; yet, you have chosen a path that I cannot forgive even of my own brethren. An assassin is not someone who needlessly kills the innocent for their own entertainment. An assassin is far better than who you are. You. . . are a murderer, a snake in the pit, and you should know better what it takes to be an assassin over a murderer, you piece of filth. But. . . I am an unbiased being and I will tell you this: you are immortal and you should have no fear of the things that can affect you. They may, but they are never permanent. Find, in yourself, the ability to disregard such things, to change who you are, and never will you have to fear the inability to kill people. No, I do not approve of what you do, but you are my nephew and despite all of the wrong that you do, I will continue to look out for you.”

She fell silent, letting the words sink to the head of the assassin, who merely stared up at her, unable to properly respond to her. Marceline scoffed and kicked him in the side, lifting him up and throwing him into a seated position with just the top of her foot. “You are letting your fears consume you, Child, that is not something an assassin is supposed to do. An assassin overcomes his fears. Do that and you will have nothing to fear in this world, not even the thought that something could stop you from killing everyone. You are a powerful being deep down, with Anicetus blood in your veins, we are a powerful family, and I expect no more than your best.” Her red irises narrowed at him before she continued on, “get to your feet, boy, this is just all in your head and you know it is.” The silence continued, but she knew she had somehow reached him because she could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to regain control of himself.

A smirk sprawled across her lips as Inaris broke free of his invisible bindings and clambered slowly to his feet, looking up at her. His eyes narrowed back at her and he didn’t say a single word of thank to her, then darted off to go do what he did best at. She didn’t care, he wasn’t her business, and all he needed to know was that she would constantly be watching over him for his best. He was a part of the Anicetus family and that is what she expected of the child, nothing more and nothing less, just his best. After all, they were the unconquered family, nothing could stop them, not even the fears that crawled in the back of their minds. “Stupid child,” she muttered to herself, running her fingers through her hair and flipping some of it over her shoulder as she turned away. “He should know better what an assassin is, but if he claims that he is one, then I will not stop him in what he believes he is doing.”


Family was something that had never been important to Marceline and it was likely because she had, essentially, been abandoned since birth. Her father never gave her the love her mother could never give and none of her siblings had ever come to her room or acknowledged her existence. It was like her father had fooled them into believing that she had never been born and that the death of her twin sister had never happened. They were all a happy family and the room that was always locked was just a room that contained little importance to the king. Just a place to stash more wares and armory, a place to keep the treasure that he earned in his battles and wars he wrought on other kingdoms. As though her own existence meant nothing to him and that his daughter, the successor to his magic, had never actually been born. That’s what hurt the most, knowing her father had never wanted anything to do with her, but later claimed he loved her eternally.

She had dealt with so much heartache revolving around her father and despite all the bad he had done to her, she loved him unconditionally. As any daughter would their father, her love for him was endless and she could forgive all the bad because she believed it was out of love. Her death? It was out of love because he wanted her magic to come through. The scars that marred her body, covered by tattoos now? It was out of love for her. He kept her locked away in her room in order to keep her safe, to keep her away from the dangers of a world she was not ready for. Those were the lies that she believed, the lies that the servants that came to her room only on occasion to her to reassure her. Oh, he only was doing this because she was his treasure, the last thing that reminded him of the love of his life and he didn’t want to lose her. Oh, her death was because he wanted her to live eternally like he did, so that he could always have a piece of her mother with him.

Daddy never loved her, Daddy lied about his love for her because he blamed her for all of the things that she had done to her mother. Her death? It was all her fault that he could never hold her mother in his arms again because she had taken her life from her. Her kisses? Her smiles? Those would never be seen again because it was all Marcy’s fault that her mother gave her life to her. She contained the essence of her mother’s life within her own body in order to be able to sustain the pain caused by Death’s magic mating with Life’s magic. She was the construct of what happens when Life merges with Death and if not for her mother giving her life to her, she would never have existed. Perhaps that was what her father had wanted all along, for her to have never existed so that he could have the love of his life back. But that is what Death gets for loving Life because Life was something that was never meant to be touched by Death’s own hands.

“I failed them. . .” a voice entered her ears like a knife through her heart, “I wasn’t able to do what I was meant to do, and I failed them. . .”

Marceline’s eyebrows scrunched together and she turned around to face a man that was kneeling on the ground in a scatter of bodies. She stared silently at him as he was bent over and murmured insanities to himself about failing the ones that lay lifeless around him. They were all people that she recognized, people that were a part of his life, and people that she had never once interacted with, herself. But she knew all about them. She knew their names and who they were, what they meant to him, and that’s what hurt her. Quietly, she walked up to the man and stared down at the bloodied bodies of the loved ones that he had failed to correctly protect. Every single one of them, they were all members of Fairy Tail or people from his own family that had horrified looks on their faces from their deaths.

Quietly, the woman knelt down to her own knees and stared out across the dead bodies of those that meant the world to Takumi. Hera lay in pool of her own blood just feet from where they knelt, Sorano lay sprawled on the ground with a chest ripped open to the world. Kanix in tattered pieces, sightless, blue eyes staring to the sky as though her last wish was to see the world in all of its glory. Yazuki, the brother of the man beside her, broken and shattered, very nearly tore her own heart out at the sight of his lifeless body. A pout came to her lips, but she didn’t say anything, she merely let Takumi weep his heart out for the people he had failed to protect. When at long last, the woman reached out and placed her slender hand on his shoulder closest to her, squeezing it gently. It was meant to reassure him, but she knew that the despair he was feeling was something she would never be able to comprehend.

She could feel his sorrow radiating off him like a waterfall cascading to the lake below it, filling it with the tears of the ocean. Marceline wanted to sit there and comfort him, to tell him that everything would be all right and there was nothing to fear. However, she knew that no matter what she said, Takumi would always blame himself for having failed the one job he set himself up for. That was something that would be hard to overcome because she knew what it meant to him to protect the ones that he loved. And seeing all of the people that were dead and sprawled out in front of him, she knew they were all people that meant too much to forget. Marcy bit her lip and looked at the bloodstained ground, wondering what exactly she could say to the man to get him to stop weeping. It was only a dream, she knew, but it was such a realistic dream, that she feared she would not be able to pull him through it.

“I know that you believe you have failed them,” she spoke up, turning her gaze away from the ground to look at the grieving man. “But you should know that even if you believe you have failed them, they would never once think that you didn’t do what they asked. If they are your family as you say they are, they will appreciate everything that you have ever done for them, as little as it may be. I know that you will continue to blame yourself for their deaths, but I feel that is something you should at least take into consideration. Family is not something that will give up on one another; they will continue to grow with each other and only look to the best in each other. They will never see this as your downfall, but they will see it as though you had tried your best in what you had tasked yourself to do.” She rubbed his shoulder lightly and gave it a squeeze again, then softly smiled at him when the man glanced over at her.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he responded to her, anger rising up in his eyes as he pulled away from her touch and sat down on his ass. “You’ve never failed anything in your entire life and tried to be better, only to fail once again when you promised you’d never fail anyone the last time it happened. So, who the hell do you think you are trying to tell me that you know they wouldn’t be frowning upon me for something I fucked up on, huh? Keep your filthy hands away from me because you’ll never understand what it’s like to lose family that you promised you’d protect until your last breath.” He glared back at Marceline with a look of hatred in his eyes, keeping rigid and away from her so she could not touch him. “Everyone in Fairy Tail is dead and you want to know why? Because I went and fucked up to the point that it cost them their lives! I fucked up enough that they lost their lives because I made the worst decision in my entire life and I will never forgive myself for it!”

“Takumi,” Marceline murmured his name, hesitating in saying anything more to the man than his name with how angry he had become. She merely kept quiet after saying his name, however, letting him angrily stare back at her before he let out a huff and stood to his feet. “Look, . . no, I don’t know what it’s like to lose family that I promised to protect because I never had family that need my protection. The only family I ever had were the sons and daughters that I gave birth to in my thousands of years of life, and you want to know what I did with them? I gave them up to better families because I believed that I would never be good enough of a mother to them with the way I acted and what I did. They were better off without me, and you’re right, I will never know what it’s like because I will never truly be their mother in their eyes. The woman who gave birth to them, the woman who gave them up because she believed they deserved better, will never be the best to them.”

Marceline stood to her feet as well and grabbed hold of Takumi’s wrist, pulling him around so that he faced her, and pulling him into a hug. “But you want to know what? I don’t care if they never see me as their real mother because they do deserve better than me and I accept them. And you want to know something else? They know what I did for them and I’m sure they will never think of me as anything worse than a person who tried her best for them. Because a mother will do everything in her power to assure that her children have the best of lives, even if she is not in theirs. That’s what you need to keep in mind with your family; you will do everything in your power for your family, even if they may no longer be with you. Do what you want to do in their name, continue your life as you would if they were still alive, only make them what keeps you going. Don’t blame yourself for your failures, see this as a turning point in your life where you can make yourself better than you were previously.”

As she finished her words, she felt Takumi give in to his emotions and begin to cry over what happened, whatever may have happened. And all she could do was hold him there until he was finished, until he had finally accepted that it wasn’t is fault like he had thought. He could continue on and on about how he blamed himself, but it would never truly be his fault for what happened to his family. “They just meant so much to me, but I see where you’re coming from,” he wept softly into her shoulder, clinging onto her clothing. “It might hurt like you say and I’m sure I’ll never heal from such pain, no one would if it were to happen to them, but I will use them to better myself. I will use them as my motivation to continue on and I will back upon this incident as though it was something to learn from. Because you’re right, it’s not my fault as much as I feel like it is; I’m sure if something else happened, I wouldn’t have been able to stop it alone. Thank you.”


Marceline was never afraid of human contact, mostly because she had never actually been in contact with anyone before now. For all of her life, she had lived in solitude by choice, not because she was afraid of the people, but because the people were afraid of her. No one wanted to go near her because they knew of the deadly state of her magic and what it meant to get in close proximity to her. One step too close and it was possible they could get fatally sick or simply drop dead from the toxic nature of her magic. They were fearful of their own lives, so they chose to avoid Marceline at all costs in order to keep their precious lives they held so dear. It hurt Marceline that they would turn away from her simply because they were frightened of what her magic could do to them. So, she had opted to the best choice that she could think of, and that was to seclude herself from the living realm and live out her eternity in solitude.

When she had come out of that solitude for the first time in thousands of years, she had never been so fearful of human contact than she was now. She was afraid to touch people, afraid to be too close to them because she feared that they would drop dead from just being near her. That was the potency of her magic and she wished for the longest of time that her magic would let her just touch someone for once. Yet, she knew that day would never come because her magic had a mind of its own and its mind constantly told her no to her wishes. Marceline wasn’t allowed to touch people unless the intent was to kill them and if she did touch them without its consent, her magic would kill them as of consequence. If she even disobeyed a lick of her magic, her magic would turn around and take the life of the thing nearest to her that meant the most to her. What was a surprise to her was that her magic had yet to take ahold of Kite and keep him from her, like it was letting her have him.

She was allowed to touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss him, and all of those were things that she cherished her magic allowed her to do. However, she still hurt him, she could see that her magic took a toll on his body just for him to be standing near her to hold her hand. But he had promised her that he would do everything in his power to keep her magic at bay just so she was able to touch him. He was the first person who was able to do such a thing and the first person who actually cared enough to be in her presence. Never once did she feel fear emit from him and it made her heart swell that a human of Earthland did what it took to be in her vicinity. Kite didn’t run away like the others. Kite didn’t tell her she was the bane of existence and that she needed to just die. No, he told her he loved her. That alone had changed her entire world and she had taken it into her power to do what it took to keep him in her life, even if it meant disobeying her magic.

He was the first person to teach her not to fear human contact, but it took her a long time to realize that she could be around people without hurting them. Physically hurting them was one thing and that was what she feared the most, but many people had the ability to heal themselves of damage. It was that reason alone that Kite had stuck by her side through thick and thin, and held her hand when she needed it held the most. Kite had shown her that not all people were the same and that some would do whatever it took to make sure she was just as human as them. For all of her life, she had been treated as though she wasn’t human, as though she was just a monster that needed to be chased away. So, she had treated herself as such and took the burden upon herself to keep herself away from the humans who hated her so much. To be able to be around people and not be treated as different like she had believed herself to be for millenniums, that was something new to her.

And to see that other people were being treated like she had been, it was disgraceful to watch the people of Earthland do such a thing. Stereotypes were things she had come to dislike, things that she wished didn’t exist and that people learned to accept the differences of others. However, she was also aware that it was something not possible, that people would always see the differences of others to themselves. Because no one could be like another person and everyone saw themselves as the best and wanted for everyone to be like them. They were different to each other and society had taught them that if someone stood out, they were meant to be picked on for being different. If someone didn’t say or do something that another person did, that society had trained people to do, they were automatically different. That is why she had become the outcast of her homeland, why she had been treated so differently compared to those in her kingdom.

Gisen was similar to her in a way; she had been cast out from her village because the people believed her to be a monster. They believed her to be the one that was causing their famine simply because she was half rabbit and enjoyed eating vegetables often. Everyone treated her differently because they saw that she was not like they were and thus, didn’t deserve the treatment they got from each other. She was, essentially, someone that they did not like and could not comprehend why she existed or how she came to existence. So, they were trained by society to treat her like an outcast, to show her that she did not belong where she had been birthed. And thus, chased out of her own village, stoned when possible, because she was the one that constantly caused them distress in life. When in reality, she was only trying to live her life out in peace as any half-breed would, only to be denied what she wanted most.

Human contact was something Gisen feared and it was through this that Marceline was able to easily sympathize with the rabbit demon. She was forced to watch as Gisen returned to her village once more in thought that she would never return to it again. Entered the village and was greeted by the villagers, only to be greeted by them with stones and words of horrid nature to her. Marcy watched as Gisen cried out when a stone was thrown her way in order to chase her out of the village she had once lived in. The villagers screamed profanities and insultive words toward her, threw food and stones or whatever they could find to make a fool of Gisen. Their hospitality toward her had disappeared and it was quickly shown to her that she would never be welcomed back home like she hoped. These people had left her in the dust, hoping that she would never come back because they feared she only brought famine to them.

Gisen came running her way, bounding on all fours, bobbed tail wiggling in fear and ears flopped down in sorrow as she fled her home. She ran away from the human contact that she so feared, letting the people win and shooing her out of the village she wished to be home in. However, as soon as she noticed Marceline, she came skidding to a fearful halt, scrambling away from her to keep her distance. Marceline, on the other hand, only stared down at her, didn’t make a move toward her, just watched the rabbit girl cower at her feet. That was something she had wanted all her life, for people to cower at her feet, but she didn’t want it in the way Gisen was displaying it. So, she knelt down to her knees and extended a hand, allowing for Gisen to get close if she wished and smell the scent off her. Minutes passed by before the rabbit girl extended her nose and sniffed gently at Marceline’s hand, taking in the earthen scents of her body.

She smiled at the other girl, “see? There is nothing to fear when it comes to humans; not all of them are bad, you know. Your previous villagers you lived with, they may treat you different and never see you the same, but they are just a few in the millions. There are many other people who will not see you as anything more than what you are and what you show yourself as to them. As long as you are true to yourself and true to them, they will treat you as though you are one of them and nothing more or less.” Marceline extended her hand farther and stroked the ears of Gisen, petting the soft fur as she spoke to the scared rabbit girl. “Trust me, I was treated differently as well because I didn’t have a hold on my magic yet, so my magic killed anything and everything that got near me. But there was someone out there who had shown me that not everyone is the same, and that there are those who will try to get to know you.”

Marceline lowered herself to a seated position so that she was eye-level with Gisen, red irises staring back into ones that were confused and fearful still. “You just need that certain someone in your life who can show you that not everyone is the same and if you’d like, I’d certainly help you.”

“But. . .” Gisen began, perking her ears forward before letting them fall flat to her sides again, “what if everyone is the same and you’re just lying to me? I should still have reason to fear. What if they try to hurt me or chase me out of my home again like they did back there?”

“Then you don’t need them or you can fight back, you can show them that you’re not who they think you are and prove yourself. Sometimes, it just takes a little bit of proving to show others that you mean no harm to them; it’s like gaining the trust of a timid animal. Take your time, but do everything in your power to show that you are only there to help them, not to hurt them in life.”

Gisen narrowed her eyes, but she gave a small nod of approval and reached toward Marceline’s hand, giving it a bump of thanks.


People always thought it was a blessing to be able to speak their own mind and to hear others opinions, no matter if the opinion was wrong in their mind. It was a gift given to them by the Almighty, allowing them to express their feelings not only through bodily language, but through words. Others didn’t have to guess what another was feeling when the person in question could simply tell them what was going on with them. However, there are some in the world who do not have the beauty of these gifts, who cannot hear others words or cannot speak their own. These are the people everyone pities because they will never truly understand what it’s like to express their emotions with words. They can sign and pray that someone will understand them, but nary are there many who learn the language of the deaf or mute. And what of those who are unfortunate enough to lose both their ability to hear those around them and their ability to speak their own words?

They are the outcasts of society because they are seen as wholly different to those who are deaf or mute, or completely normal in the world. People pity these kinds of people more than they pity those that have only lost one sense of their self compared to the two most important. These people are looked at as though they will go through life not knowing what it’s like to be normal, and that is the worst part. Being so wholesomely judged by their counterparts, these people lack those who are willing to learn their language to speak to them. Very few have taken it upon themselves to learn their language, to be able to hear their voice among the silence they only hear. But they will never understand what it’s like to be the other person’s shoes, to not be able to hear the world or speak their own voice. A constant struggle that no one will understand until it happens to them, until they lose their precious senses they hold so dear to themselves.

As a person who shape-shifted into thousands of different people, she was bound to experience one that had a loss of hearing or a loss of speech. Never once had she encountered someone who had a loss of speech and hearing at the same time, so it was something quite new to her. Yet, she understood that she couldn’t approach the person with the same mindset as those who didn’t understand what it was like to be deaf or mute. She knew she had to approach it at a different angle, experience it how the other was experiencing the world around them with no sound. They lived in utter silence, the kind of silence that creeps along your skin and haunts you, the kind of silence felt when something evil approaches. No one would ever understand that kind of silence that rings in their ears eternally, sounding like something, but nothing all at once. It was a sound that drove people crazy because, in reality, what they were hearing was nothing, not even ringing in their ears.

She wasn’t sure how she was meant to approach this person, just that she knew she had to approach her in order to help her out. The only thing was that, as she was nearing the young girl, she began to notice one thing: the girl didn’t seem to know she was there. Haia was standing placidly in the middle of nowhere, blankly staring out in front of herself like she had become lost or even fearful. Never once did the girl twitch to signify to Marceline that she had felt her presence, never once did she even acknowledge that she was close by. So, to see such a response, she could only understand that perhaps this girl couldn’t hear what was approaching her like she had thought. If that was the case, it was more than likely that such a girl didn’t have the capability to speak to her to let her know she knew she was there. Marceline paused just a few feet behind the girl, not wanting to get any closer to her because she was scared she would give her a frightening if she did.

Marcy wanted to reach out and touch the shoulder of Haia, to show her that she was there and that she had nothing to fear from her. But at the same time, she knew that if she touched the girl in any way, shape, or form in the state she was in now, she would scare her. Or perhaps the girl was aware of her presence and just couldn’t announce it to her like she wanted because she didn’t know their language. She didn’t know how to express her feelings through signs or broken speech like many of the deaf and mute people had done years before and even now. Haia didn’t know what to do, so all she could do was stand there and stare off into space, traumatized by the fact she could not speak her own voice. It concerned Marceline in a way, made her heart ache and yearn to help the girl, but just not knowing how to help her out. And so, she let out a sigh of frustration, curling her hands into fists as she thought of what to do in order to help Haia understand she wasn’t alone.

“Haia?” the woman inquired, this time reaching out a hand to touch the girl’s shoulder as she experimented what deformity the girl had. No response came, but the girl’s body stiffened when her hand came into contact with her shoulder, and she looked to Marceline. She held a look of fear in her eyes, one that showed Marceline that this, all of what was going on, was not normal for her. A frown creased the woman’s lips as she looked Haia over, contemplating how she would be able to interact with a person who couldn’t hear. Dreamland was a hard place to do such things in, especially since she was located inside of Neutral Grounds, which negated her own magic. Yet, Dreamland was a place where anything could happen, so perhaps what she was thinking would actually be able to work. Giving the girl a light squeeze on her shoulder, Marceline closed her eyes and braced herself for what she was about to do with Haia.

“Your name is Haia, correct?” the woman telepathically spoke to the other girl, keeping her eyes closed so she didn’t lose the concentration. “I know this may all seem new to you and that you may not quite understand why it has happened, but I just wanted to let you know something. No matter what happens to you, whether you lose your ability to speak, your ability to hear, or both, you are never alone. There will always be people in your life who are willing to guide you through your hardships and teach you how to live with your new disabilities. You do not have to fear the emptiness that you hear now, but learn to accept what has happened and grow to accommodate to such new things. And trust me when I say that you are not alone because there will be people always at your side; hell, even your guild will be at your side.” Marceline smiled briefly, letting the words momentarily sink into the girl’s mind before she said anything else if she needed to.

“I can. . . I can hear you!” Haia exclaimed to Marceline, a brightness full of happiness washing over her features as she heard the woman. “How can I hear you? I thought I wouldn’t ever be able to hear anything ever again and yet, I can hear your voice in my head!” Haia stopped and stared solemnly back at Marceline, eyes wide and hopeful now that she had been able to hear her voice. “Say something else, please! Say something else so that I’m not just imagining voices in my head and that you’re actually talking to me. Please!”

Marceline chuckled and opened her eyes, staring back into the deaf girl’s eyes as she contemplated what to say to her next. “There are other means in which a person is able to speak to another, especially if that said person is a mage trying to communicate to you. What you must understand, however, is that I am Death and no matter who I talk to, they will always be able to hear my voice even if they cannot hear physically.”

She let go of the girl’s shoulder and let her hand drop back to her side, giving a small shrug of her shoulders after speaking to her. “People have ways of communicating with everyone, especially if they are adept in telepathy; meaning they can speak to you through your mind. So, you don’t have to fear never being able to hear again, as long as you know there is someone with telepathy willing to help you. If not, I suggest that you learn telepathy yourself if you haven’t already gotten the skill because then you can have a voice again. You are not as limited as you think you are when you have lost your senses, and that is something I want you to realize about yourself. You are a human being and you are more intellectual than you make yourself out to be, so don’t use something like this as an excuse to not do anything. Trust me, in a world like this, there are no limits to what you can and cannot do; I am sure you will find a way to communicate with people.”

Haia smiled brightly at Marceline and pulled her into a hug, thanking her for showing her that it wasn’t the end of the world for herself. “I didn’t think I would ever be able to hear again, but knowing that something like telepathy can help with such a thing, I’m not so scared anymore. There isn’t any silence to fear, just like you said, and I will make sure that if this ever does happen to me, I’ll keep your words in mind.”

Marceline quietly hugged her back and grinned, then pulled away and gave the girl a nod of her head to know she understood her. “If you ever need any help, just seek me out and I will do my best to help you; never fear those who wish to help you over harming you.” She gave Haia a wave of her hand as the girl began to fade away into light particles, leaving her in the emptiness of Dreamland. How many did that make so far? She only had to save a few more, right? Because, honestly? She was getting bored of helping people out.

WC: 14,679

CLAWED MY WAY TO VICTORY

“Daddy?” a little girl’s voice called out, “Daddy, where are you? I can’t find you, Daddy! Please, come out! I don’t like this game of hide ‘n’ seek.” The girl’s voice quickly became frantic, searching out the father that seemed to constantly be hiding from her or just out of reach of her grasp. She ducked through tiny spaces, peeked under every item, and even looked in the darkest of places for the one she was looking for. Yet, he never answered her, and she never found where he was hiding; it was as if he had simply disappeared off the face of the planet. Granted, she hadn’t seen her father in a while, but for some reason, the thought of never seeing him again clawed at the back of her mind. Love overpowered all else, but it was the fear that she felt that gripped at her stomach and made it turn, causing her to throw up. Frey shook slightly, wide eyes looking around as she sought someone, anyone that would be able to comfort her in her time of need.

“Achim?” she called out, waiting to see if perhaps her elder brother happened to be around and wasn’t being a jerk like her father. However, just like him, there came no response when she called out to him, just the silence that greeted her like last time. It was frightening to her, how whoever she called out to, there was no response, even though she knew they were around here. Either they were intentionally ignoring her to be asses, or something wasn’t right and that is what scared her the most right now. If they were not around, where did they happen to go because she clearly remembered seeing them both just a few minutes ago. They had been playing hide and seek with her to keep her entertained, but now it was likely they had hid themselves too well for her to find them easily. Would they really have done such a thing just to be a butt to her? She didn’t think that was true, but perhaps it was in their nature to.

“Madi?” Frey yelled out her sister’s name, seeing if perhaps it would be her half-sister that would come running to her aid. They hadn’t known each other for very long, but they were related by blood, so she thought that even family would come for her. Then again, if family would come for her if she called out for help, Achim or even her father would have come first and foremost. But again, she was greeted by silence that had greeted her twice before: once when she called her father, once when she called her brother. Now, she was beginning to think they had abandoned her, that they had up and left, using the excuse of “hide ‘n’ seek” to get away. Why would they abandon her though? What had she done to them that would cause them to run away from her for forever? It hurt to think that they didn’t like or love her enough to stay where they were and teach her the things in life she needed to know, but rather, abandon her on a whim.

“Silver?” she shouted out her companion’s name, knowing for a fact that big, silvery wolf would come bounding to her aid when she called. She stopped in her tracks and listened to the eerie silence, waiting to hear the tap of Silver’s claws running across stones to her side. Yet, she never heard the clacks or the pounding of his feet that would alert her to knowing the big goof would be coming to her. There was just silence and more silence, something that she was beginning to grow wary of, yet accept that was all she was going to hear anymore. Frey scrunched her eyebrows together and frowned as she plopped down on her rump and crossed her legs into the criss-cross position. “Silver?!” she called out again, perhaps thinking that the wolf just hadn’t heard her the first time she had called out to him. Maybe if she called out a second time and much louder, the beast would come to her and nuzzle up to her just like the old times.

Again, there came no pattering of paws or a happy woof that told her Silver had heard her call out his name for him to come to her. So, she was left in the dark, alone, beginning to feel as though she had been abandoned and that everything she had ever known was a lie. Her lip quivered and she wiped away tears that trickled down her face in dark black, like the blood that spilled from her earthen veins. The tears were the only sign that she was still a living being, still a relative of the great and feared guild master of Savage Skull. Right now, it was the only thing keeping her sane, keeping her from realizing that she had actually been abandoned and no family at all. She wasn’t quite aware that it was true though, that everything she had ever lived to believe was all a lie made up by the one she thought was “mother.” And maybe she wouldn’t ever know the truth that laid underneath, completely left in a lie to believe something that meant so much to her.

Then it dawned on her, the one name she had yet to try and perhaps if she screamed loud enough, she would be able to hear her. Frey stood back to her feet and glanced around at the empty house she stood in, frowning slightly, but praying it would work. “Mommy?” she screamed out, praying along with the screaming that Marceline would be able to hear her voice and come to her. She had come to her aid all the times before, every time she had ever needed the help, but an inkling of a feeling told her she wouldn’t this time. All she had to do was hope and pray though, and then, just maybe, Marceline would appear out of all the people she had called for. Silver wasn’t there, Achim wasn’t here, Madison didn’t answer her call, and her father. . . she just didn’t know where her father had gone to. Marceline was her last hope, the last thread that she was hanging onto and praying that she wasn’t as abandoned as she began to think.

Marceline, however, stood behind her daughter in silence, watching Frey calling out to the people that meant the world to her, only to get nothing back. It hurt her and she wanted to comfort her daughter, but something was stopping her from intervening with her daughter’s dream. She felt useless and helpless because all she wanted to do was reach out and wrap her arms lovingly around Frey and tell her everything would be okay. Yet, Dreamland wouldn’t allow her, Dreamland was forcing her to watch as her daughter was tormented by her worst nightmare. Every ounce of her hated what the world was making her do and she wanted to break free of the chains that held her bound down. Those invisible chains rattled and taunted her, told her that she couldn’t do what she wanted to do most, what a mother was meant to do. Marcy screamed out in fury and tugged at the invisible chains, with only the intent to help her daughter clouding all of her thoughts.

No matter how hard she tugged at those chains though, they only seemed to tighten and pull her farther away from the daughter she loved. Perhaps as a means to show her that she didn’t have family, even with all of the children she had given birth to and loved dearly. Frey was not hers to keep because Frey was not her biological daughter as she had allowed the little girl to believe herself to be. She was a child she had taken from a village and kept and raised as her own, but had her taken away from her by the Magic Council. Yet, she, herself, had grown into believing that Frey was her own daughter and what became a stolen piece of jewelry was now her treasure. And never would she ever let Frey back out of her sights like she had in the past, as that had been the one mistake she regretted making. Another rough tug on the chains and she found herself broken free of her bindings and she rushed toward her daughter, sliding down onto her knees.

Her arms snaked around Frey’s body and wrapped her close to her, holding her little form to her bosom, where she wanted to keep her. She nuzzled her face into her daughter’s hair and simply let her own tears fall from her eyes as she cried over what had happened to her. In her arms, she could feel Frey stiffening and not realizing it was her mother who had grasped hold of her, but soon fell limp to her embrace. Frey turned around and wrapped her tiny arms around her neck, burying her face into her mother’s neck and breathing in her scent. “Mommy,” she whimpered, tears spilling down her cheeks and staining the fabric of her mother’s cloak with shades of black. “I thought I was all alone, I thought everyone abandoned me because no one was answering when I called for them. I thought they didn’t like me anymore.” Yet her words were met with a hushing sound, telling her that everything would be all right and she need not worry anymore.

“You’re not alone, baby girl,” Marceline answered her, tightening her grip on her daughter to show that she had no intent of letting go. “You were never alone and I want you to know that I will always be there for you whenever you need me, just call for me, okay?” Marceline sniffled a little and buried her nose farther into her daughter’s hair, breathing in the same scent that came off her own body. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, believing that no one was there for you when everyone is here to help you. I hate this place so much, I hate what it does to the people, and I hate that it made my own daughter so scared that she felt permanently alone. A place like this shouldn’t be able to do that; it shouldn’t be able to hurt my daughter like it did you, and I’m so, so sorry.” She hugged her daughter tightly and kept her there, reassuring Frey that she would not be alone, no matter how much she thought she was.


Her hand was grasped around his throat, like she had the intent of strangling him, cutting off his only source of oxygen to survive. She had a malicious intent in her eyes, the red of her irises staring back into oceans of green, like pools of blood on a battlefield. Fangs were bared at him, the claws of her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his throat as though they were the blades of several knives. He had her by the waist, pinning her close to him, keeping her there as though he was trying to calm her down from whatever was happening to her. A look of hope and resilience in his eyes as he stared back into hers that were full of violence and anger that he had never seen before. No matter the harm that she placed on him, he would never see it as if it she was doing it of her own accord, like she wanted to hurt him. Yazuki knew better when it came to Marceline, that she would never intentionally hurt him even if it was what she was doing right now.

He could feel the blood seeping down his neck where her claws dug in too sharply and broke through the skin that protected his throat. Like streams connecting to an ocean or a lake, the trickles of blood slid down his chest and pooled into a puddle on her chest where he had dipped her down like they were dancing. She glared up at him with a soul that he could tell was not the one that belonged to her, but of another that was foreign to her ways. Sorrow crossed over his face, but he pulled back up from the dip and twirled her around in an attempt to get her to release her grasp on him. It went true, but it sliced open his neck as he had expected, leaving blood to gush down his chest and to the ground below him. However, the wounds quickly healed and he yanked her back in toward him, hooking her hands around his neck so she could not reach him. Marceline looked pitiful in this state, but he knew it was a state that would only be temporary if he knew how to get rid of it.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured to her, tilting his head toward her ear so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. He only got a low growl in response to his words, as though she was only capable of making strangulated, animistic sounds toward him. It was fine, it was something he could deal with for now, as it wasn’t his main goal more than his main goal was to get rid of that tainted soul. She shouldn’t have eaten like she had; he knew there had been something corrupt with that soul and didn’t trust it after the death of the beast. But he didn’t stop her from eating it because he believed she was strong enough to overcome whatever it was that tainted that soul. However, he had been wrong and now he was about to pay a price that he knew was going to kill him more than anything else. There was only one thing in this world that he wanted the most and that was Marceline; he wanted the Marceline that he knew back.

Another twirl sent her away from him and he gazed longingly into her eyes for the longest of moments, like time had slowed down for him. His other hand slowly moved away from his side and his fingers curled into a claw, gathering the electricity from the air into his palm. A frown crossed over his lips and a look of sorrow entered his eyes as the spell began to charge quickly, shaping and reshaping into its correct form. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, recounting all of the things he had told himself with what was about to happen to Marceline. When he reopened his eyes, he used the hand holding her away from him to pull her back in toward him while his other hand came to the center of his stomach. The look of anger dwindled in Marceline’s eyes when she had come but a foot away from him, the snarl also leaving her lips permanently. Tears began to trickle down Yazuki’s cheeks as he fell with Marceline, holding her body up as it became limp and slid to the ground.

Her hands slid down from his shoulders and they came to rest upon her stomach, where the bolt of lightning had pierced through. A well of black blood sprouted from the wound that he had caused her, dripping down her sides to pool to the ground below with his. He gritted his teeth and held her in his arms, lifting her up and pulling her close to him so that she rest in his lap like she was only sleeping. Marceline’s head lolled toward his shoulder, leaning against it as her lifeless eyes stared off into the distance beyond where they knelt. His fingers ran through her hair and he keeled over completely, burying his face into her chest and letting out a sob of pain and hurt. “I’m so sorry,” he blubbered into her cold body, “I’m so sorry I had to do that. . . I’m so sorry I’m such a terrible person with what I did.” That was all he could manage out because he knew just how hurt he would be when the time came that he had to put her out of her misery.

He let out another horrid wail, rocking her lifeless body back and forth as he held her tightly in his arms and kept her there with him. It was hard to imagine an eternal life without the one thing that completed him; it was hard to imagine never being able to see her smile again. The very thought tore at his heartstrings and for a moment, he felt like his heart would pull into pieces and nothing would be left of himself. Life was cruel enough to make him kill the one thing that meant the world to him, and his only companion he knew would be there with him through eternity. Yazuki sniffled and pulled away from her chest, looking to her peaceful face with bloodshot eyes and brushing some of her raven locks out of her face. Only then did he begin to notice that her form was slowly crumbling away into tiny specks and pieces of what her magic was made of. “No. . . no. . . no, please. . . no, stop. . . I want to keep her!” he cried out, watching in horror as her body started to disappear on him.

When the flecks of Nether gave away to the wind, Yazuki collapsed to his hands and knees and reached out toward the sky where they floated away. “What have I done?” he wailed, “what have I done? I can’t. . . I can’t forgive myself for this. . . I killed her. . . I killed the one person who was everything to me. . .” His hands curled into fists and he slammed them into the ground, dropping into a fetal position to where he sobbed into the earth below. Had he known she would disappear the way she had gone, he would never have done such a thing in the first place; he didn’t know she could die permanently. All this time, he had been fooled into believing that Marceline was immortal, that she could come back whenever she wanted to or when the time called. But seeing her body disappear the way it had, the dreaded feeling of her not returning stooped low into his stomach and made him cry out. He would never be able to forgive himself for doing such a thing, and it hurt knowing he had killed the one person who would have been eternally by his side.

Yazuki didn’t think that it was possible for someone like Marceline to permanently die, to never come back to the place she had been born in. They were, respectively, Life and Death; how was Life supposed to live without Death? The cycle was not complete without his Marceline. And now, here he was, a weeping mess upon the ground, questioning his own sanity, questioning his own motives and why he did what he did. He should have just let her be the tainted spirit she had become, she likely would have been able to overcome the spirit herself anyway. But now. . . now she was gone forever and he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with himself knowing she wasn’t coming back. What was Life supposed to do without Death? It could not kill off and repopulate the world, that wasn’t how Life worked; it was only half of a whole. “I’m so fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself, smacking his head into the ground and digging his fingers into the grass below.

Slowly, the man lifted his upper body back up, so that he was only kneeling on the ground, bloodshot eyes looking outward from where he sat. He felt numb and incomplete, and he wasn’t quite sure how he was meant to feel anymore without Marceline at his side. Yazuki rolled to the balls of his heels and fell flat to the ground on his ass, blankly staring out across the land, numb to thinking. Could he really continue on with his immortal life knowing that Marceline wouldn’t be there to greet him and take his gifts? Could he really go on knowing that Death was no longer an option in the world and that her red eyes wouldn’t be there holding concern for him. “What did I do?” he murmured as he blankly stared into space, just now letting it register into his head all of what had happened. Again, all he felt was numbness, like he couldn’t quite accept that Marceline wasn’t where she was meant to be by his side.

A laughter filled the air, one that chimed like bells and sounded familiar to him, but he was too numb to see who it was. He shivered slightly as he felt a slender hand reach out and lightly touch him upon the shoulder, feeling the fingers curl around his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dare look, afraid that all he would see was just an image of someone who was permanently dead like he believed. “Yazuki,” her voice warmed his heart to hear, “are you really that convinced that you could easily kill me with just a bolt to my stomach. You must really underestimate just how strong Death really is; after all, I have to withstand all of your gifts that you send to me.” The man pouted and he turned around without looking at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into her stomach.

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” he whimpered into her belly, “I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for what I did to you.”

“It’s okay, Yazuki, I forgive you,” Marceline responded to him, reaching down to pet his hair lightly to comfort the man in pain.

WC: 18,338