Posted by Heidi on July 11, 2004, 1:30 am, in reply to "What is to decide"

The area behind the motel is still rural. Possibly it was sheep pasture a long time ago, but cut off by the road, it is falling into decay. Weeds grow waist high in places, and a few stunted trees have grown, the mist swirling in and out of their leaves. As close to summer as it is, she can smell snow on the air. “Is Ireland usually this cold?” She asks. “No, it is not. Time is freezing around us.” The mist is no longer yellow and the stars seem unnaturally bright, but are all one color – white, as they are supposed to be, tiny dots glowing like fireflies behind the misty curtains. The moon, a pale disk of lighter gray, hovers overhead. And with a crash, Heidi walks straight into a wrought iron fence. “We are here. A bit to your left, Heidi, and you’ll find the gate.” Looking around, Heidi shivered. They’ve arrived at a graveyard. The place is lonely, with the air of having been deserted for a long time. The fence, made of black iron with the top fashioned into spear heads, is beginning to rust. On either side of the gate are two stone pillars, with a gargoyle atop each. One of the gargoyles is missing a wing, which is lying in front of it, nearly covered by the grass. The broken part of the gargoyle is a much paler color than the rest. The gate itself is arched, with a celtic design she’s unfamiliar with across the center. But one half is rusted in place, and the other is hanging off the hinges crookedly. Past the gates, a few moss-streaked tombstones rise up above the tall grass. Others are hidden in it. The most eerie part of this is, she’s been here before. She knows it. “Have you decided not to come with me?” She turns her eyes to Dionoco. Standing under one of the stone pillars, his form is swallowed in shadow. “No. I’m on my way.” She walks into the graveyard. Dead leaves crunch under her feet, and tombstones rear up like apparitions. “Why are we here? What is this place?” “This is where time does not exist. And we are here, because you must be reminded of something. Ah, here we are An exceptionally large tuft of grass turns out to be a small hill. Somewhat recent activity has taken place here, as the grass is shorter and lighter. Behind the hill is an open grave. With a coffin inside. “Come, Heidi. Observe the ends of time.” She walks closer, and brushes leaves off the top of the coffin. The name ‘Crippler’ is etched into the lid. Below the name, it says ‘This is the beginning of your end’. Now she begins to remember. The week before winning the LBWF Heavyweight Title, she, Jeffy and Kai Scott had come to this very graveyard, where Jeffy had cut an elaborate (by LBWF standards) promo on the champion, Crippler. Concluding with showing him the coffin, and promising to bury him. “If you are thinking about the Crippler, you need not. I brought you here, Heidi, to show you the evidence of what I speak of. Of ships and anchors, decisions and destinations, loving betrayal and solace in hatred, and of a girl who’s name is not Renee.” “Ships and decisions? Please, Dionoco, just answer my questions instead of speaking in riddles.” “If I merely answered your questions, I would be lying. A statement can only become truth if you decide that it will be so.” He bows his head. “But if you truly wish that, I shall attempt to make things clear.” Heidi looks over Dionoco’s shoulder to where the moon has broken through the clouds, illuminating her in a beam of colorless light. “Great events are set in motion. You are scarred, Heidi, and this is why your name is not Renee anymore. Destiny takes the form of a horse, and rather than try to pull it along with him for once, Jeffy Andrews opts to lead it, and allow it to follow him. This horse wears a saddle, and the saddle bears your name.” “What kind of horse?” Most girls like horses. Heidi is no exception. And whatever Dionoco may be, he’s human enough to sigh. “Forget the horse, Heidi. Instead, think of the ship. Jeffy pilots a ship of gold. Angelina Bishop pilots a ship of slaves. You, alone in the ocean, try to take on the slave ship. You could save the ship of gold, but through your decisions, you allow something both valuable and precious to be destroyed. And even if you decide to succeed in your goal, you have taken out a mere crewman of the ship of slaves. And there is all likelihood they will turn to you, to replace him.” At least this is comprehensible. Somewhat. “So what you’re saying is, I’d be better off siding with Jeff instead of leaving him, and I should help him fight my battles instead of his own?” “I am saying nothing of the sort. I merely explain the situation to you. It is your decision, and only yours.” “So what if I try to build my own ship?” “To go back to the horse analogy, Heidi – you cannot drag a horse by yourself, and even if you lead it, you cannot sink a ship.” “Tell that to the Turkish Reverie.” Heidi smirks sardonically. Dionoco’s expression is unreadable. “If you sink, you shall certainly get the chance to tell it to the Turkish Reverie yourself. Life is made of fragmented decisions. We play a game in which we are never told the rules and in which we ourselves are the stakes. This is the fate of humanity, and few are lucky enough to realize it. Those who do become veritably immortal. Angelina Bishop has achieved this as has Lee Scott.” She knows the name. “You mean Kai?” “That is his decision, as you should know. But I will warn you of this – there are those of us who can bend reality to our will, and there are some who can destroy not only theirs, but that of those around them. Fear Lee Scott with your life.” Over the horizon, the mist suddenly turns paler. Dionoco turns to look, moving quickly for the first time since she first saw him. “Soon, it will be time to go back, Heidi. But first, look at the coffin look at where Crippler is buried.” She does. And Crippler’s name is gone, and Flare’s is there. As she watches, the name shifts. Jeffy Andrews. Lawrence Cheung. Gemma Lockhart. Miah DeVan. Alex Constantine. Cole Christenson. Neo. Sam Carnage. Freddy Phoenix. Keith Edwards. Llewelyn Ap Dafydd. Heidi Christianson. “What is ?” And she is talking to the hood ornament of her car. The morning sun has come out. The birds are singing. She feels refreshed and energetic, like she’s slept for 8 hours under full sensory deprivation. Except for that hollow pit in her stomach that comes in remembrance. The ‘ship’ became the ship of golden slaves. She was taken aboard. And from the crows nest, Heidi had a clearer view of both Heaven and Hell than she had ever wanted.