Echo, p.25
Echo, page 25
"Team up?" She glanced over her shoulder to see him. "We just met. How do I trust you won’t hurt me?"
"My lady." His head jerked back. "I’m a man of honor. I would never hurt an unarmed woman."
The purple-haired scanned him with her eyes, looking a bit puzzled. He worried his eyepatch scared her and waited impatiently for her to say something.
"Promise?" she finally spoke.
"I promise," he said, standing taller and adjusting the scarf.
The two trudged along a dark, crooked path, leaves crunching under their steps. The damp air made it effortful to breathe, and soon, they became parched. What tortured Zaros, however, was the silence. Two hours must’ve passed as he walked side-by-side with his companion without saying a word.
"Dammit. Will this path ever end?" He flinched at his sudden onset of anger. He didn’t want to upset the purple-haired beauty, though she didn’t seem to mind the yelling. It was the cold that bothered her. She had wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.
Upon noticing, Zaros took off his coat and put it on her shoulders. She gave him a slight smile.
"I’m so thirsty, I can hear the water tinkling," he said, trying to break the ice.
The girl tilted her head and pressed her hand beneath her ear, listening. "I don’t think you’re imagining it."
Surprised at the realization, the two halted, then hurtled forward until the dark path ended, and they found themselves in front of a stream.
Squatting down at the edge of the water, Zaros saw his reflection. He glanced at his beautiful companion, then balled his fists. I’m just a one-eyed beast, aren't I?
He scooped some water. Just as he brought it to his lips, the purple-haired called out, bringing his attention to a sign with a danger warning and the word ‘Nusku.’
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"Poison?" She seemed to be guessing.
"Why the hell would anyone poison the water?"
"To protect it," said a female voice. The two turned to see a woman in a red dress. She had a maniac smile and a wreath of flowers on her hair.
"Did you poison the water?" Zaros faced the flower girl, oblivious to who she was.
"I protected it from you," she said playfully.
"What kind of abnormal thinking is this?"
At his voice, the flower girl shuffled to the back. She stayed quiet for a moment, but then her arms relaxed. "Let’s play a game."
"This is not the time for games," the purple-haired said. "We’re lost."
"But unless you play, you don’t go home," the flower girl said.
Zaros shared a look with his companion before he asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"I meeeaan..." The flower girl sat on the dirt and spread out her dress. "You two are not friends. At the end of this game, one of you will kill the other, and the winner gets to go home."
"This is ridiculous." Zaros turned to the purple-haired. "I promise you, my lady, you’re safe with me."
No signs of panic showed on her face.
"Say what you want, but this is how the game ends," the flower girl said. "Now, I’ll give you your first hint. Take the boat and row, row, row."
Zaros looked at the stream when something splashed. A wooden boat appeared, floating on the surface. Zaros wanted to ask the flower girl about it, but she had already disappeared.
The sun beamed down on the running stream while Zaros paddled the oars, propelling the boat forward. Sweat slid down his face as his muscles grew sorer, but he wouldn’t ask his companion for help. In looking after her, he had found joy and pride.
After a while of sailing, Zaros arrived at a choice point. The current motioned the boat into a narrow, hazy path. Whereas to their left, a wider river appeared.
"Go left," the purple-haired cried out unexpectedly.
"Left?" He didn’t know why, but her hooded eyes showed a hint of fear.
Grasping the left oar, Zaros pulled against the current. He wanted to be a hero, to help the damsel in distress, so he fought the waves, steering the boat into the safer path.
"Thank you," the purple-haired sighed in relief, then offered him a smile. His heart melted, and he felt his face grow warmer. Was it love? He sure thought so. But for love to be true, it had to be tested.
For what felt like an hour, Zaros sailed along the river until a fallen tree blocked the way. He dug the oars into the water, bringing the boat to a halt before it crashed. "We have to walk from here," he said.
He stepped on land and stretched his aching arms. Behind him, the purple-haired stood in the boat, her weight shifting between her feet in imbalance.
"Here." He rushed to lift her off the boat. The moment he put his hands on her waist, his breath grew ragged. Hadn’t she withdrawn, he would’ve kept holding on to her.
"My lady," he said as she stepped away. When she turned around to see him, her soft hair fluttered in the breeze. That calm presence of hers mesmerized him and soothed the overwhelming fire in his heart.
"I have something to tell you," he said with a nervous hitch. "I-I know we just met, but..."
"But what?"
Her cold stare intimidated him.
"Uh." He rubbed the nape of his neck and looked away. "Never mind. It’s nothing."
"Then we need to keep moving," she said, advancing. "I must find my name."
***
The raging water gushed down a sheer drop, roaring. The path of the river brought Zaros and his companion to a cliff. The sky above them darkened by the gathering clouds, stoking the fear in his heart.
"You made it so far." The flower girl emerged from behind and sauntered towards the ledge where a wooden bridge hung. It had loose ropes and many missing pieces. "Go ahead," she cheered. "This is your way home."
Zaros grasped the end of one rope, and the whole bridge shook. "This won’t hold us."
"Too bad." The flower girl elicited a devilish simper. "Maybe one of you should stay behind."
"You can go first," the purple-haired told Zaros. "I’ll follow."
"No, we go together." Zaros gazed into her eyes, hoping she’d understand his warning. Don’t trust the flower girl.
Together, the two stepped onto the bridge. Clinging to the ropes, they took careful steps. The wood squeaked under their feet, shaking and warping.
"Hold on to the ropes," Zaros instructed. Repeatedly, he glimpsed back at the flower girl, worried that she might betray them. And just as he thought, when the two reached halfway, she pulled out a knife and started to cut the rope.
The purple-haired screamed when the bridge wobbled violently. Zaros held her in his arms. "What are you doing?" he yelled at the flower girl.
"I told you," she shouted. "Only one of you gets to go home." She continued to cut the rope. "You didn’t follow the rule. Now, you lose the game."
***
The seagull called, waking Zaros up with a jolt. The last thing he remembered was the flower girl cutting the rope and he and his beloved falling off the bridge. Suddenly, he was back at the shore where their journey began.
He pushed himself up and hurried to the purple-haired on the sand. "My lady."
"What happened? Where are we?!" She jumped up.
"We’re back at the ocean," he said. "How did this happen?"
She took a moment to calm herself before replying, "Maybe it’s a loop, like in the movies. We’ve gone full circle only to end up at the beginning."
"What does this mean? Are we stuck here forever?"
"Not if we change our path," she said, shaking her head.
Instead of going into the forest, Zaros and his companion walked along the ocean, comforted by the sounds of the waves. The sun shone brilliantly, warming up the air that touched Zaros’s nose. It seemed they made a better choice, yet his heart remained uncertain.
A while after they started to walk, the two found a boat waiting on the shore, the same one they had sailed before, but this time, there was neither a flower girl nor a poisoned river.
"Should we take it?" the purple-haired asked.
Zaros watched the ocean, which was as calm as it could be. The waves lapped over the beach with no signs of disturbance. "It’s better than walking," he concluded, and boy was he wrong.
As soon as they set sail, the peaceful ocean lost its temper. The boat heeled, almost flipping over. The purple-haired hollered. The sounds of crashing and banging were overwhelming, and Zaros no longer had control of the oars.
When a high wave lifted the boat, the two held onto each other and shut their eyes. They were thrown up in the air, then slammed back down. There was a blow, then a bounce, then...nothing. The boat stopped.
Back in the old stream, the two found themselves, soaking wet and panicking. The path before them split into two, and once again, they were at the choice point.
"How’s this possible?" Zaros cried out. He kept holding the purple-haired until she pulled away.
"Let’s take the right path this time," she said. They already knew where the left one would take them.
***
Mist rose as the boat moved along the current. It thickened, creating a thin veil between Vanna and her companion.
She took a deep breath, trying to tune out the shadows lurking beneath the boat, whispering to her, "One of us. One of us."
"Whatever you are, I’m not one of you," she said, sheltering herself in the purple coat her companion had given her.
"You failed Faith, but you don’t feel anything."
"I don’t?" Vanna wondered if she could really feel. She knew, for one thing, those voices scared her, but did she feel any fear? Or did she act scared because it was expected? Somehow, she had learned to detach herself from her emotions and lock them up in a hidden place inside her, a place much scarier than any voice could be.
What will happen if I let them take me? Vanna watched the shadows with more curiosity than panic. When one of them grabbed her hand, she realized the reality of the situation and found the strength to resist their call.
Pushing the fear away, Vanna gave the eye-patched man his coat back and let the frigid cold air seep through her clothes. Drawing her hand back, she noticed the word ‘Faith’ on her wrist.
"Do you think I need more faith?" she asked her companion, who scoffed.
"Faith? I don’t believe in that."
"Then what do you believe in?"
"Power." The answer sounded obvious to him. "When you have power, you create your destiny, and you don’t need faith anymore. Faith is just a delusion, a pain killer for the powerless."
"Hmm." Vanna let her mind drift away.
The boat reached land, leaving the mist behind. Vanna and her companion trod along a moss-covered terrain, passing by logs, thickets, and clusters of trees.
When they glimpsed the shape of a man, they ran to him, seeking help. But once they were close, Vanna realized he was nothing but a threat.
"Long time no see, Zaros," the man said in a dull voice. He had long brown hair and a maroon tunic akin to a prince.
But the eye-patched man, Zaros, didn’t seem to recognize him. "Who are you? And what do you want?"
"I come in peace." The man raised his hand. "I promise not to harm you if you give me the girl."
"Me?" Vanna’s eyes widened.
"You’re not taking anyone." Zaros hurled his body in front of her. "She is under my protection."
Jivar smirked. "Many things I have done for you, Zaros. I have rescued you from a life of misery, gave you power, watched over you. And I demand only one thing...the girl."
"You can’t take her," Zaros asserted.
"Then you choose betrayal."
The man opened his palms, and an electric charge emerged. Before Vanna knew it, Zaros had grabbed her hand and ran.
The two fled into the woods, leaping over the uneven ground, tripping, and getting back to their feet. Had they paused to look back or catch a breath, the madman would’ve caught them.
Eventually, the two came to a stop. Vanna fell to her knees, and Zaros put his hands on his chest. "I think we’re safe now," he said, panting.
"Not so safe." Vanna pointed at the flower girl, who stood on the same old ledge, near the same old bridge. The path they took had led them, once again, to the final destination.
"How do you want to do it this time?" The flower girl asked as they approached. "Will you cross the bridge together, or will one of you abandon the other?"
"You go first," Zaros told Vanna. "I’ll stay here to make sure she won’t cut the ropes."
"I can’t leave you behind. It’s not fair."
"Who said anything about fairness?" the flower girl interrupted. "Games are about fun."
Vanna glared at her with annoyance. From her pocket, she pulled out a shiny, silver coin. "If one of us is meant to cross this bridge, let’s allow fate to decide," she said. "Head, I go first. Tail, you do."
"I refuse to do this." Zaros shook his head.
"Why?"
"Because I’m in love with you," he cried out. "I love you, and I want to keep you safe, even if it means sacrificing my life."
Vanna’s lips parted, short of words to say. Where did that come from? She stopped herself from asking.
"I see the sparks of romance in the air," the flower girl teased. "The boy loves the girl, but does the girl love him back?"
"Shut up," Zaros shouted, then turned back to Vanna. "I may have come out strong, but, my lady, the love I have for you is palpable. It shows in every move I make."
"I’m not sure how to respond." Vanna backed away. She didn’t want to say anything, but her companionship with Zaros obliged her to be honest, even if honesty was cruel. "I can’t return your feelings or let you die to save me."
Zaros’s eyes shifted uneasily.
"I’m sorry—"
"There’s no need for an apology." He gestured for her to stop talking. "At least now I can go on with my plan without the fear of disappointing you."
"Your plan?" Vanna asked with confusion.
In a glimpse, Zaros had grabbed the flower girl from the neck and lifted her.
"What are you doing?" Vanna cried out.
"If we don’t like the rules of a game, we change them," he said.
The flower girl’s feet dangled in the air. She wheezed, trying to force some air into her lungs, but Zaros pressed on her neck until she let out her last breath.
"Have you lost your mind?" Vanna asked, throwing her arms out.
Zaros dropped the corpse and allowed his rage to show in his voice, "Don’t you want to go home to find your damn name?"
"I do." Vanna pursed her lips. Zaros seemed to her like a completely changed man.
"Then flip the coin." His face reddened.
She followed his order. The coin spun in the air, then fell on her palm, showing the head side. It was Vanna who first stepped on the bridge and cautiously moved along, keeping her hands on the ropes. She glanced back at Zaros. Unlike her, he swelled with emotions—love, anger, pride, hurt, fear, and greed—too many emotions for Vanna to endure. The intensity of his feelings scared her more than him murdering the flower girl. Nevertheless, she waited for him on the other side of the cliff, and when they met again, the two exhaled in relief.
"Finally." Vanna pressed her hands to her head.
"Finally." Zaros let out a long yawn. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over the two, bringing them to sleep, only to wake up back on the shore sometime later.
***
The seagull called, waking Zaros and Vanna up. They had been through the loop so many times, they lost count. They had tried to mix their paths. Sometimes, they took the forest, then walked along the river. Other times, they strolled along the ocean and swerved before they met the madman. Sometimes they crossed the bridge together; other times, they flipped the coin. But every time, they ended up where they started.
"Wake up," Zaros said in a grudge-filled tone. He never lent Vanna a hand.
"Another round?" she asked.
"Stating the obvious, aren’t we?"
The two had become not only edgy but disheveled. Their hairs were ruffled, and their clothes collected mud and sweat.
Both Vanna and Zaros battled with their inner demons. They remembered what the flower girl said, "One of you gets to kill the other." What if she had been right all along? What if betrayal was the only way home?
By the time the two had arrived at the cliff, they had already decided that would be their last round, although they never talked about it. Whoever got to cross the bridge first would cut the rope, leaving the other behind. No hard feelings.
"Flip the coin." Tension showed on Zaros’s face. Near his feet, the flower girl’s corpse had grown blue and rotten.
Vanna pulled the coin out of her pocket and flipped it. It fell on her palm, showing the tail side. "You go first," she said in a bitter tone.
She watched as Zaros crossed the shaky bridge and wondered what would happen to her. More likely, she’d be trapped in that ugly place forever—unless the madman caught her, then she’d be dead. Yet, she couldn’t ask Zaros to restart the loop of torture just for her sake.
When Zaros arrived at the land, Vanna waited for him to cut the rope. To her surprise, he gestured for her to cross over.
"Are you sure?" she called out. "This will start the loop all over again."
"We’re in this together." He seemed determined.
Vanna’s eyes lit up. She couldn’t believe what Zaros did for her. Stepping on the wooden bridge, she kept her eyes on where her feet would go. Through the gaps, she saw the distance beneath her. The water seemed to fall into nothing. There was a hole in the world, a void that never failed to scare her, no matter how many times she had crossed that bridge.
"I’m almost there," Vanna said with hope, but as soon as she reached the end, Zaros started to untie the ropes.
The bridge shook. Vanna held onto it in desperation. "What are you doing?"
"One of us has to kill the other," he said. "This is the rule."
"Please, don’t do this," she begged.
Zaros threw the rope in the air, and the bridge crumbled. As the first piece of wood fell, Vanna’s heart skipped. But at the very last moment, she jumped, flipping in the air and landing next to Zaros.
"H-how? How did you do that?"
