The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Three: The Will to Choose
Part Four: Prefinished Business
Part Six: Death Rides a Horse
6.1
Pitch darkness engulfed her within a sea of shadows, all of breath flooding back in one giant gasp, bearing inside her heart most painful echoes of remembrance, currents in mind remaining still for those extended moments of confusion. Nothing was clear but the need for space of breath.
The stonework slabs beneath her were cold to the touch, weighed down by a density in her body which taught of trauma, gripped by a force felt in whole beneath her, those stabbing pains in the side of her neck made to be known in every moment. It took so much time to stand, unable to see a thing while senses flooded back in fits and spurts, a ringing hum within head and heart which reverberated throughout her entire body.
Miriam Lightfoot screamed her lifetime’s loudest cries, a hundred of them, sending ripples through the universe that would call on change to begin at last.
There was a great stretch of time before she’d come to realize this hum pervaded the space itself, not only her body, feeling its reverberations coursing through her entire form of being. The origin sound of the universe; an ohm.
Removing her scorch-saber from its sheath, having been pinned beneath her and jammed so forcefully into her side, body’s own energies now tuning the device, alighting it with the fiery amber glow for which it’d been known across the breadth of space-time’s past; her beast.
She could finally see where she was, an otherworld.
Miriam knew in her heart she’d make most significant change within it herself — though always doubted for fear of ego — a most simple awareness the part she had come to play would enable its healing transformation, unknowing both how singularly, and divinely steered by her other. As always, the purpose of this light so channeled through her, the hum; God, was to lead all towards heaven.
The illumination created by her scorch saber within the chamber was enough to see into the darkest corners of this tomb-like encapsulation of stonework, a passage most clearly lit amongst the blackness, herself found upon a risen and human-made platform reminiscent of some altar she’d once seen on planet pillaged in her rage.
Something was changed within her now, whatever happened, which she’d not remembered in the slightest, changing her to feel such freely flowing energies about her body, and there was a clearest knowing inside; it’d happened again.
Miriam Lightfoot had gone back in time.
Her soul knew this place.
It was all coming back now, though she’d never seen it through these eyes, connections inside which had things pouring in by strangest means. Yet, nothing once had made more sense to her heart than being here, or her spirit, than the awareness of it all coming into focus.
She hated the energetic stench of this place all the same, so loving how that hum was growing as she proceeded through the stone-carved hallways, still holding such horrors within from her time upon The Valkyrie and all she’d done while not being consciously aware.
Her own actions had rippled through time and hurt everyone she’d ever loved, especially that man where she found peace, his fateful accident so long ago a part of the fabric of changeful chaos birthed into existence by her most powerful doings of magic.
Unknowing this, yet holding it inside herself, would be the catalyst for that greatest unbecoming she’d seen unfold. To never truly know what it was her heart so felt the need to atone for, only feeling its weight, doubting so greatly the true sights she’d see, coming to believe his sorrows were her own torch to carry through a most intuitive connection growing each day. Feeling back all she’d done to him unknowing, interpreting it as something he was doing to her actively, twisting the guilt inside and letting it sour her mind.
To have known the breadth of what her actions had truly wrought into existence, especially to that man she loved the most, would’ve allowed her to face it, and heal this wound inside herself. Though, the time she’d taken — this longer path — was needed for Miriam Lightfoot. What she was about to face was would be the hardest thing any heart would ever have to take. Every lesson with her Arthur had always offered such powerful reflections of learning, so innately sorry to have let him down in each instance, even when it didn’t make sense, as if through time she’d always felt what she was to do, sorry from the moment her most innocent self-had met him, just as he’d held it against it her unknowing.
The chance to turn towards this most difficult healing within the universe’s fabric, and the opportunity to pour out waves of energy which were profoundly unique, were what Miriam was built to do, in fact the purpose of this darkest visages path; a whole place in space-time.
That, and becoming the catalyst which would bring them here in in the first place, through the conscious murder of a man named Jareth, who’d found himself most controlled and led down a very specific, if oddest, path of insatiable curiosity.
Miriam would see it all through the waves crashing in from time-space, having discovered herself again flung most uncontrollably through its immense fabric, becoming a tool for the force of love, mending the ways of God most completely, surrendering herself into the grasp of this Goddess light. It was as if allowing its presence inside would enable her to withstand levels of energy no one else could handle, a channel of it herself, imbuing objects and creations with the source of it all. To be held by the hands of God who’d not be able to touch another without bringing their demise, was why she’d been born the person she was to begin with.
Her heart was extra-big for a very important reason, as was Arthurs.
The hum was love. It was Grammaton’s love; the very soul of her Arthur, and to allow it inside would enable her to become exactly what he’d need her to be. Stronger than anyone else, able to withstand the mighty touch of his God’s hands, free at last from the burdens she’d carried so long; empowered by it. To be this way, in balance with both the spirit of God itself, and their most powerful embodiment currently residing in system — both being actively expanded beyond the self, with so much more encompassing their consciousness they’d be coming to understand for some time — would allow them both to create the change they’d been brought here to make.
A chamber was now before Miriam Lightfoot of most immense size and scope.
Finally, she’d seen the heart-light of Grammaton within its most awesome cathedral of rebirth and ascension, and it had awoken a knowing of purpose within the woman.
She had to get ready; Jareth was coming.