Chapter 51: Poem
*hehe, I wrote this during uni classes (can't get kicked out or sum cuz I'm keeping my identity secret n all, hehehehe) and yeah, I hope it turned out well. I took more time with it, so I ended up with a longer chapter. Have fun and enjoy. Peace out and Deus vult*
The time came, and the Express finally began moving forward on its journey. Just as Mark had expected, it was time for a good scrub that should rid the train of any grime. It went well, and Mark simply drowned in his own thoughts. The fragments of the blade were kept neatly on his person, a warm reminder of what had once been. Close to his chest, the warm metal won't leave.
Pom-Pom talked with Stelle, speaking something about an issue with the navigation system. He buckled up, sitting on the couch more comfortably as it was about to happen. The lights went out, and the train came to a halt in the middle of nowhere within space. The others were flung across the room, except for Welt and Himeko. Mark just clung to the seat, and Stelle fell on the floor, sprawled out like a ragdoll.
He let out a heavy sigh, mostly annoyed rather than anything else. March instantly looked his way, a huge pout on her face.
"You knew this was about to happen, right? You could have told us too, meanie. What did we even hit?"
Mark chuckled, looking over the others.
"You'll see in a moment."
He wiped his nose, the damage was minimal, but a trace of strain still remained on his mind.
They looked out the window, staring into the red space. Everything was a weird nuance that looked like ketchup.
"We've been attacked by a giant space beast!" shouted Stelle, exaggerating her fear. Mark smiled a bit, knowing the answer was somewhat close to the truth, but not like anyone would know about it until a bit later.
March scoffed, looking over to the others.
"Even Mister Yang is confused. Great..."
Mark chuckled, looking around the room, waiting. Dan Heng came to them, revealing the actual situation, a crash between the Express and another vessel. March was somewhat baffled, the idea foreign.
"How do you even crash into someone in space?"
Mark chuckled, imagining the scene. Out of all the void available, they managed to somehow hit one of the only human means of transportation in the entire damned vicinity.
"Well, at least everyone is safe, even those guys," muttered Mark as he looked over to the red-haired man. He was handsome by all means, which did say a lot about the knights that follow Idrila.
"If they're here to stir up trouble, I'll make sure they know a lesson. Stelle, Mark, let's go talk to them."
Mark found himself smiling, enjoying the situation. Despite his eyes darting around the room, looking for dark figures that weren't there, his mind was at peace.
March seemed very determined as she approached the man, until she noticed him talking to a plant. In just a moment, he turned towards her, speaking in a poetic manner. Mark felt challenged in the ways of speaking like a supposed drunken poet.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Argenti—I belong to the Knights of Beauty. May I know your names?"
Mark took a step forward, smiling a little. He felt in the mood for some stupid drunken talk that needed no alcohol but just guts, a lot of tolerance for cringe words, and acting like a complete moron.
"Allow me to intrude, oh most benevolent knight," said Mark in a friendly tone. Stelle and March got sudden memories of his blabbering upon having met Tingyun. "I am but a humble human that stands within his own journey. I'm Mark, while these ladies here are our beloved Stelle, a most courageous woman, and March, the gentle Nameless."
Argenti offered a respectful nod, both of them bowing slightly, a hand crossed over their chest.
"I see. It's an honor to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine, you who seeks beauty in the world."
Stelle and March watched the exchange with a mix of surprise at the extreme politeness and some sort of weird feeling at how happy Mark seemed.
"Pardon my abruptness, but I have a habit of asking questions. As fellow beings of this universe, are you acquainted with Idrila the Beauty?"
Stelle and March looked over to him, expecting the answer.
"I actually do, oh seeker of beauty. Idrila, the goddess of beauty, an Aeon that has vanished, with her whereabouts unknown. Thus, there remain her knights, who seek to bear witness to her face, following the concept and traces left by her. It is a noble goal, akin to that of the Trailblazers who still thread this path."
Argenti nodded, Mark's words ringing true. Meanwhile, March and Stelle had multiple questions that they asked Argenti, but Mark had no need for that information. He already knew it, and at the current moment, it wasn't required for anything. Still, he stood there silently, arms crossed, taking in the words spoken with fervor and adoration.
In the midst of their discussion, Stelle seemed to lack a form of understanding on beauty. Truth be told, the concept in itself was broad without a specific definition. Argenti wished to discuss it in a way befitting a knight: combat. Mark took a step forward, wishing to try and test the man for himself.
"Sorry, Argenti, but I'm not allowed to stand idle as a lady does the fighting. It's my own philosophy that I try to follow, even if I'm useless in combat at times."
The man held his spear, radiating dignity and a sense of gentle beauty that made him too aware of the discrepancy in their being. Argenti was proper, dignified, a man who stood tall in his own beliefs. Mark was similar, but he doubted more than one should. Faith, something they both shared, was manifested differently in both of them.
"Sorry, Argenti, but I know what true beauty is—the highest form of kindness and gentleness. Let our weapons do the talking."
With that, Mark reached out to Stelle, requesting her bat. He had left his weapons within his room, but he didn't require a sword. In battle, he should be able to do with anything, especially after his training. Stelle was a bit baffled at first, but then she reached out and placed the bat in his palm. With one twirl, he was ready, holding it at his side, his vision unwavering despite the shadows that tried to get his attention. It was him and his enemy, a clash in views of beauty.
"Let us commence, then, my friend. To convey our intentions faithfully, it's best to take action."
Mark nodded, the two of them walking in a circle, close to one another. Argenti held the advantage with a longer reach, meaning that Mark had to get close and personal, but he held his head high.
The two clashed weapons, Mark's muscles soaring with a burst of energy. The clash was loud, their movements precise. Argenti's spear moved with grace, striking true against the bat. It rattled, yet faltering was not an option. Mark struck back, attacking wildly from different angles, forcing Argenti on the defense. Instead of waiting, of drawing breath, he kept striking over and over, in the same way he tried to fix everything within his mind, to simply fight his fears head on, despite them always coming back to haunt him.
"There's no true escape from these things while you're bound by flesh. They're normal parts of us as humans, bad as they are. It's the price of living, the price of our nature."
He was pushed back as the spear slid along the bat, reaching for his hand. Argenti's gaze was firm, holding a glint of light in it—a specific sort of joy that warmed the soul. Mark's gaze was on fire, a silent flame that burned deep within. The gauntleted hand reached forward, grabbing the blade head on, holding it with a monster grip.
"I'm sorry, my friend, but the beauty I know is vast enough to simply swallow that of this world."
With that, he prepared to strike, only to find the bat stuck in the air. Welt walked over, staring at them with a curious gaze.
"I'm sorry to interrupt whatever is happening here. I spoke with Himeko, and the situation is more urgent than we imagined."
Mark let go of the spear, returning the bat as it could finally move again. The discussion shifted from battle to the real reason behind Argenti's arrival on the Express. He wished to help, that was all. It was just a simple wish fit for someone like him. Respect—that's the only thing Mark held for Argenti.
The rest was left to Stelle, who handled the talking with the IPC man, Velite. Mark simply stood to the side, watching the scene unfold. He stared out the window, trying to gauge the size of the creature they were in. It must be enormous, maybe as large as a planet.
"Aaahhh!"
The sudden scream, albeit expected, jolted him back into reality. He moved over to Pom-Pom, who was terrified. Himeko tried to comfort him, squatting by his side as she gently caressed his head.
He spoke about some weird sound, and Mark had more than enough of a clue where it came from.
"Let's go check inside the rooms," said Mark, already heading to the passenger cabins. The others followed, each with their own issues. Still, unlike the game, he had a room of his own that he had to check. His steps took him on the silent corridor, the dim red light coming in from the windows reminding him of horror scenes.
"It should be empty, right?" he muttered to himself as the door swung open. He froze right there, his mind drowning instantly into itself, the darkest parts coming out as more and more figures tried to drag him, grabbing on to his arms and legs. They weren't real, not to others, but to him they existed.
"You... it can't be, damn... I know it's not real, yet... you're here, you crappy son of a fuck..."
He gritted his teeth, struggling to not break out into a mixed fit of both rage and fear. The being inside, the one that damned bug chose to manifest itself as was the creature of horror that roamed his mind in the Simulated Universe. Twisted tongues and fingers reached out from hollow eye sockets, morphing into wrists and palms that reached out to him.
"I told you I would return," it gargled, forming eyes to stare at him, which hung out on top of tongues.
"You're not real," muttered Mark, struggling to hold on to courage, whatever bits were still lingering in his heart.
"I am as real as you make me," it hissed back, the eyes melting into a mess of goo and thousands of irises.
Mark winced back, his breath uneven as his back pressed against the Express window. He shut his eyes, trying to make the image go away.
"Damn... damn... God, just a moment..."
He moved forward with closed eyes, feeling as tentacles tried to tangle themselves around him. He kept walking, stepping forward, recalling the layout of the room. He was about to cause a mess by his own will.
"Just like in that one Halo scene..."
He grabbed the chair and turned around. The creature was extremely close, but without his vision showing anything, he could handle it easier. The chair swung to the side, smacking the bug in the side. He opened his eyes, his vision flicking between illusion and reality.
"You're!"
He struck once, smacking it with the chair right in the side of the head.
"A motherfucking!"
He struck again, shouting louder as the chair's leg got through the shell.
"Just a fucking!"
One more motion that squashed part of the torso with the back of the chair.
"Parasite!"
The last blow ended with the bug making some weird noise before twitching as its insides were turned to mush. It vanished before his very eyes, as if deconstructing itself upon death.
"Damned parasite..."
He walked out, the chair still in his shaking hand, part of his body for the moment. Back in March's room, the others solved her issue. Mark walked in, trying to control his breath, but his arms shook on the chair.
"Heh, I guess we both had some bug issues... phew..."
March nodded, looking at him with a worried look on her face.
"I saw myself, and my other self kept telling me about the past, and... and..."
Mark nodded, understanding what she meant. He simply leaned on the doorframe, supporting himself as his breath was still ragged.
"Yeah, I understand. The thing I saw was enough to scare me to my damned core... let's just go back to the parlor car for now. There's not much left to be done..."
The rest of the event went as it had in the game. Instead of trying to fight Argenti once more for the last battle, Mark simply allowed Stelle to take her role. In the end, he still clung to the chair, trying to appear as composed as possible, but the shock was with him. The images were glued to his eyes, sticking to him without any traces of letting go.
"Damn it..."
Himeko kept glancing his way, and so did the others, but only she had a clue as to what could shake Mark on a deep level. No matter how well he tried to play it off, this entire issue was different from his usual worries and fears. Nothing could compare to that sense of primal fear that the incomprehensible being planted in him.
As Argenti had gone out the Express, the others stared at the fireworks, which Mark could see too. The insect they had traveled out from... it was massive, on a scale that compared to planets.
They were all standing in front of the window, a bit saddened by Argenti's sacrifice. They looked over to Mark, thinking him upset by Argenti's supposed death.
"He's not dead," said Mark, smiling slightly. "He'll make it out alive and well. Just, don't worry..."
They still seemed upset, despite Mark's reassurance. Himeko went on to discuss Idrila, thinking her long since fallen. The Knights of Beauty had mixed opinions, with some having accepted it, while Argenti still held on to the hope that his Aeon is alive, somewhere.
"The crisis is over, and our unexpected guest has left, but I still think there's something we should talk about."
Himeko's words sparked Mark's mind in a different direction. The chair was long since resting on the floor, away from his grip. She looked at everyone, speaking softly.
"In your opinion, what is beauty?"
Her eyes glanced at him as well, as if awaiting his words. Welt and Dan Heng chose silence, focusing on their own thoughts. Pom-Pom was still down, and it seems that March was also focused on both Mark and Stelle, the newest members. Perhaps it was only their opinion that was needed to get everyone's grasp.
"That which exists between the Crew," said Stelle, her voice thoughtful and filled with gentleness. Himeko nodded, smiling softly.
"Oh, that's a good answer. What's yours, Mark?"
She looked at him, and all eyes fell on him. He simply turned to look out the window, sinking among the stars in his mind.
"Beauty... what I see it as..." he breathed out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze naturally moved over to Himeko, looking at her briefly as a tiny smile, the most natural of all, settled on his lips, curling only their left part up in a slight arch.
"Let's just say that I see my beauty... I see it living, breathing, enjoying life... yet my beauty feels away, foreign to me... perhaps I could put my ideas in a tiny poem, something that would present these feelings of mine better, alas..."
He took a deep breath, the mention of a poem sudden, lost to everyone.
"You're a poet?" asked March, finally realizing why he could speak in that odd manner of his. He shook his head, writing something on his phone.
"I just put words on a page sometimes, that's all. It's a silly something I picked up that's just... nice to express one's self..."
He kept tapping away, the prior words not lost to anyone about him seeing his beauty. It must've been a woman, that's what they all had in mind, but certainty was missing. He began speaking, softly, slowly, his voice like silk moving along a gentle path, the hidden tune meddling with the feelings that poured out.
"Beauty seen, or maybe felt
It's a feeling made... to mend...
See it here, my own amend...
Perhaps a promise, yesterday...
Just a thought made on a whim
That led to my own hell within.
Yet here I stand, my gaze still roaming...
I have eyes that see the morning...
Then my beauty, the sight cunning,
For it took my heart away,
Love pouring..."
With that, he put the phone away, saving it in there as a memory. Everyone was shocked, all of them. Even Pom-Pom was pulled out of his sadness and stared at him with wide eyes. Himeko couldn't find her words, her lips moving slightly, grabbing at straws for there was nothing to reach.
"Yes, that's beauty in my eyes..."
He turned to look again out the window, his silence fueling contemplation.
"It was beautiful..." whispered Stelle, looking at him in a new light.
"I must admit, the poetry was rather meaningful," added Dan Heng, nodding slightly. Welt simply offered a tiny smile, pondering the words himself.
"Wow... I never knew you had this side, Mark," said March, still baffled by all of it.
"I'm glad to know that the Express has someone talented with words," added Pom-Pom, beaming with a tender joy.
Himeko just stared at him, thinking about everything. The tiny kiss he had offered on Herta's Space Station suddenly had more weight than before. Still, Mark knew and felt it against his chest—the subtle warmth of a lost promise made yesterday. The fragments of the blade were still warm, as if cursed to never lose the memory of her that had been.
"Mark, that was... truly beautiful," she whispered, her eyes fixed on his profile. He didn't look at them, simply staring out the window in silence.
"Well... I'm glad you liked it..."
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