So, Onna is Dead
(a record)
I got the ping from Amara while I was driving 3 days ago. I haven't written until now because it was very painful and stressful and I needed to process it, though I regret a little that I may have lost some of the details of her passing.
I've never been ping'd before. I didn't know I could be, but I recognized her when she called. How could I not? We shared a mind for 28 years. I went to the door she and Addison use to enter our headspace from their world in a panic, and was about to essentially try throwing myself into the ether without guide (because why would Amara need me?) when Orias showed up (she really can get anywhere, I didn't know she could be in my headspace) and grabbed my arm and said no I must never do that (especially not while driving) and to just close my inner eyes and follow her voice. I went into a kind of trance, my body drove me the rest of the way home without issue (though I will never choose to do that again) and slid into another headspace. I recognized it because it's not much different from her room in our old house. Very Amara. I could hear and feel her really clearly from there (an over-the-top fancy victorian gothic room in a cave/mound in a field of dark green tall grass under a purple sky oddly, I was expecting her house though she reminds me now that her house is more of a real place than a headspace would be).
Amara was panicking and sent me an image of where she was (at her house with Onna who was very ill) and said "It's time. I don't know what to do. Can you help me?"
Knowing her I understood.
"It's okay. It's okay that it's now. She doesn't look like she has much time left and it's okay, you've been here before. Say goodbye and let her go, hun, she's in pain."
"I know, I know, but..."
"We can't save her."
"That's not what I want! You know that! I want..."
"Don't tell me, tell her."
She took me with her as she focused back on her body. Onna was... Gods, she was awful. Her body withered and sunken and stinking of rot and pain, wrapped in parts of what was probably a beautiful dress. She always did dress well. Her legs and fingers were essentially only bone now, and her arms barely functioned. She was laying across Amara's lap on the floor in the sitting room. Amara had barely made it past the entryway with her body before she'd run out of energy and Onna had begun to run out of time. She'd wanted her to die in her bed, but this was as close as they'd gotten. Her eyes were still clear.
Onna's dark, glittering eyes still saw me, though.
"Hello there, kitten-sweet, did you come to say a helloandgoodbye?"
Her voice sounded like paper as she rasped out the old, old joke she knew I'd remember. I nodded, just then realizing that that was why I was really here. I moved my arm to hug at my waist, moving Amara's arm to do the same along with me. She leaned into the pressure, the best I could do at physical support through this odd separation we endure. When I nodded so did Amara, and Onna smiled.
"Thank you for taking her, I know she can be trouble." Her lips cracked and bled as she forced the weakening movements of her facial muscles into submission. Fighting everything including her own body until the last, as we'd expected.
"That's okay. She was good."
"Apologies for not making myself up for you, dear, you'll have to forgive me."
"That's okay, On."
"It was good to meet you, little traveler."
"It was good to see your light, sister."
"May yours remain lit, sister," she nodded.
I pulled back, my heart hurting too much to talk anymore.
Onna's breathing hitched and slowed and Amara's panic took over once again.
"Tell her," I reminded her softly.
“There is a world,” she choked, knowing it to be untrue but needing to pretend-- as we often did-- that it wasn't, “where we were never broken. Where your mother loved me and we grew together as equals. Where you never lied and we figured it all out. Where we found Jack and loved him as one. Where we loved each other in a way that didn’t burn the world down.” Her throat closed, and she fought the rush of panic that overtook her as Onna’s breathing shallowed and faltered.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t this world. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it for you.”
Onna tried to speak, but the words didn't form. Only her low-ringing harmony sounded, but it was enough.
I forgive, I forgive, I mourn, I forgive.
The room stilled. Something exited.
“Goodbye, On.”
There was a massive amount of disorientation as Amara's panic set in. Odd that a few years in therapy alongside a human prison taught her some skills, but useful. We calmed down together without damaging her or the house. She screamed for a long time into the emptiness about their house.
While she keened I tended to the body, my movements a strange kind of spiritual muscle movement as I laid her out flat and pulled that green energy from somewhere and bid it cover the torn fabric and twisted flesh with a glamor (which: since when do I know how to do that?). Onna's cheeks filled out and I managed to twist her skirt enough to cover the worse of the disfigurements. I closed her eyes and settled her back into Amara's arms, reminding her of what would need to come next.
As she carried her back to the entry hall she looked mournfully back at the mosaic portraits of the two of them which domineered the back wall, framing the doors to the main hall with their regal, placid expressions of ownership. Onna looked as she was meant to look, a terrifying beauty that hurt if you looked at it for too long. I'd thought she only glowed in Amara's happier memories, but from what I've seen now she glowed even in images of her. Even in death. An inescapable point of light that genuinely burned once you became too aware of it.
"That'll have to come down now," Amara said out loud though it was directed to me.
"Only if you want it to."
She stood and stared for a long time.
"I want it to."
"Then it will have to come down."
"Later."
"Later, indeed."
She shouldered the front doors open and pushed through, squinting at the harsh light of the sun in her world. I didn't even take the time to experience being in another world, all I could do was hold onto Amara and feel the pain of the weight of Onna in our arms as she collapsed on the path at the front of the house.
Onna was horrible. A horrible, awful, terrifying menace to everything I love and value in any universe. She was hate and greed and pain and control and abuse in every possible horrific aspect of each word.
She was Amara's first love. Her whole entire world for most of her existence. She was-- at one point-- the best of what we can be. I have the memories of Amara's of every single little moment of goodness that she left in the world, and also the ones that should have warned Amara that she was slipping... But the fall came quietly, and Amara's vision cleared too late and there is nothing to do to change that.
She was a Sister of the Magdalene. Their sister. Their god. Their matriarch across millennia.
That is why they all came to say goodbye.
Tessa arrived first, Anya close behind her with her hand clasped tightly as they shoved through the remains of the cheering, victorious armies that had fought their fight home. Tessa called for silence and shamed them, for a death is nothing to celebrate to a Magdalene. Selena came next, riding the wind and already crying streaks of heavy tears before she pulled Tessa down to hold onto both Amara and the body that remained. She began the Keening, and Amara followed next. Maia arrived at a steady walk along with Kira, and both sank to their knees with the rest of the group to cradle the corpse. Jack came with Viv soon, and the group parted to allow him to settle at Amara's back and support her as she held the weight of the passing.
When Orias arrived Amara's Keens changed pitch. The true end was coming.
Even Orias-- who hated Onna more fiercely than any being in memory-- wept as she pulled Onna's soul from where it remained inside her sunken, hollow chest. The parts were separated in the family's tradition, and Onna's pains were offered to Amara.
"Do you want to remember these for her, Mother?"
Amara shook her head, which surprised me. I'd expected her to want the suffering, but she didn't. I'd never watched this far into my predictions of how this day would go, wanting this to remain private for her if she wanted it. Orias too considered eating the sins for which she'd suffered her entire life, but chose to let them go instead. She released the little ball of darkness from the tips of her gauntlet-talons and it faded into the air as if it never was, to be forgotten by time itself as the world healed. Onna's body broke down, crumbling into flakes of paper-like petals that drifted away on the breeze, over the house's wall and off toward the garden. Off home.
That's where I left them. Amara followed later, needing somewhere away from the family where she wouldn't just get high or drunk or hurt herself in her anger. I'm so proud of her for knowing not to just lock herself in her house alone with a pile of opioids and rot.
She'll be okay. They'll all be okay.
Sometimes it's time to say goodbye.
The memory of two little girls laying on the sand looking at the stars and planning their lives still lives in me. It still lives in Amara. It's what we have left of who Onna could have been. It's not enough. Gods' truth, it's not enough... but it's what we have, and that's okay.
Sometimes only the small things remain.
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