Seth by Nero Seal

Set sat on the sand,the Was-scepter resting by his knees. The evil wind picked at his wounds, filling them with sharp particles. His ulcers reopened; the black matter within glinted under the merciless sun. His obsidian skin, once boasting a beautiful, bluish tint, now looked dull and gray.

He turned his muzzle and settled his only eye on the human. Just like the god, the boy looked lacking, weak and frail. With his spine curved, he couldn’t lift his head.

“It’s okay, Little One,” Set rustled. “I’ll build you a castle of sand, but it will be stronger than iron. No storm will ever destroy it, and you will never be cold again. No one will ever hurt you there, and no sorrow will ever touch your heart. This is the word of Set.”

And the god did the only thing he could do better than destroying. He raised a scepter and started building a sandcastle, hoping it would be strong enough to protect Ignaz from everything and everyone, himself included.

* * *

That night, a shaking bodysneaking into his bed woke Seth. He tore his mask and gloves off and wrapped his arm around Ignaz’s shoulders, palm rubbing the clammy skin. He could sense Ignaz’s pain on a deep, non-physical level as if chaotic electric impulses discharged in every part of his mind.

“Aren’t you scared of me now?” He heard the note of hope in his own voice.

“I am,” Ignaz croaked. His small body flattened against Seth’s, every inch possible touching as if he needed all the physical reassurance he could get.

“Why?” Seth’s throat spasmed, and his voice came out as a hiss. He stared at the ceiling, and the spiky ornament glinting in the dark. The explosion of red, cast in glass, had kept him company for years. The moonlight trapped in every spike often hypnotized and calmed him during sleepless nights. Even now, he searched for support in its violent form. “I’d never hurt you. I’d do anything for you.”

“That scares me the most.” Ignaz’s breath tickled the side of his face. A hand glided across his chest to clasp at his ribs above the bandage.

“I don’t understand,” Seth admitted, Ignaz’s intent look burning his temple.

“The extent of what you are willing to do for someone terrifies me. I don’t want to be the reason for death. I never wanted to be, but you never asked me. Please, don’t do it for me again; never do it at all.”

“I didn’t want them to hurt you ever again.”

“But now I’m hurting more than ever.” Ignaz’s voice broke. “Every night, I hear them scream in my head. I see their faces, but they have no eyes. Seth, what if it’s my hell? What if I died, and this is my hell? I don’t want an eternity of this.”

His hand tore from Seth’s chest to move to his own. He ran his palm over his heart in a calming movement.

The pause stretched. Seth wondered if Ignaz fell asleep, but he didn’t dare to look at him, fearing to break the spell and scare the boy again.

“Will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?”

Seth’s heart jolted, alertness and anxiety flooding his veins. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, refusing to move.

“Please?” Ignaz begged. His breath washed over Seth’s ear. “I need to know something.”

Seth nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Thank you,” Ignaz whispered as if loud sounds caused him discomfort. “Before me, you dated someone, right? Was it Justin Frank?”

Seth’s head rolled toward the boy. He’d never told anyone about Justin. “How do you know?”

“Haven’t I told you I was watching you? You used to come to the club often, play with different people, but you stopped after a single scene with him. I assumed you started dating. Then rumors said that Justin was dating someone rich. I never thought it was you, but now I do. Seth, where is he now?”

In the subtle light of the crippled moon, Ignaz’s skin carried a blueish tint.

As if hypnotized, Seth mouthed, “I killed him.”

The spell dispersed as a gasp ripped the air. Seth’s palm abandoned Ignaz’s skin, and he looked at the ceiling and the spiked ornament.

“Oh my god,” Ignaz slurred and covered his eyes with his palms. A light vibration ran up his body as he sucked a breath in. “Why?”

“Because I loved him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Seth didn’t know how to explain. No matter what he said, Ignaz would never understand anyway. Still, he tried. “He had someone else, and his heart was too weak to tell that person “no”. He did everything for him while he stayed with me, while he used me. I killed for him, and he betrayed me.”

“Who did you kill?”

“His adoptive parents.”

“Why?”

“He asked me to. His thoughts were trapped by their existence. While they breathed, he couldn’t move on or be happy. He couldn’t forgive them for what they did to him. I didn’t question him because I loved him. I believed him. Maybe he hated them, but he was also the sole beneficiary of their will. After he got the inheritance, he confessed he had someone else. That person dumped him as soon as he got Justin’s money. Justin returned to me. I was happy to have him back, but money tends to run out. That person returned, threatening, blackmailing.

“Justin did everything for that man. Just like I forgave Justin, he forgave that man. That’s how I knew he never loved me because he didn’t mind using me. I killed that man, and then I killed Justin. Because he used me and lied to me. I couldn’t forgive him, and I knew he would never be happy in this life. This was the only thing I could do for him.” Seth closed his eyes, remembering the glowing heart in the middle of SkyBlade. He wanted to tell Ignaz that Justin’s death wasn’t absolute. That, unlike the people he’d killed in the silo, Justin would get another chance, and in the next life, he would have a new heart strong enough for him to be happy, to love again, and not be exploited. That it wasn’t a bad thing; it was just a new beginning.

When Ignaz didn’t say anything, regret pulled at Seth’s heart. Immense bitterness flooded his mouth. I should have never told him. He can never understand me.

Seth expected fear, loathing, rejection, but what came next left him breathless. “Can you do the same for me?”

Seth lifted onto his elbow, staring at the pallid face, heart throbbing in his throat.

“I want you to understand. Please, try.” Ignaz’s listless eyes glistened with tears. “Ever since Natan died, I’ve been stuck in a loop of what-ifs. I told you it happened after Pride. But I didn’t tell you that Natan had never wanted to put the flag up at all. He was a very modest person who didn’t like attention. I begged him to do it, just for a few days. It was my responsibility to take the flag down, but I didn’t want to. I loved it there. In my mind, it was like a beacon of light for people like me. A beacon that was supposed to tell people how happy we were and that they could find their happiness too, despite everything.

“God, I was so naïve. If I’d taken it down, those men wouldn’t have chosen our place. If I hadn’t been dressed the way I was, maybe they would have been satisfied with just kicking the shit out of us and trashing the bar. If I hadn’t screamed for Natan to help me, maybe he wouldn’t have fought them, and he would still be alive. Maybe, if I didn’t tell you about them, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt, you wouldn’t have killed anyone. So many people died because of me. So many got hurt. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t put that damn flag up, or if I didn’t exist. I can’t move on. I’m stuck in the constant maybes. I didn’t try to die because of you; I did it because I just can’t anymore.”

“No…” Seth shook his head, his throat closing. He couldn’t feel his arm when he pulled it out from under Ignaz. The room swam before his eyes. His lungs stopped pumping the air. He didn’t want to hear this because the more he listened, the more he understood the boy. “Enough.”

Ignaz didn’t try to stop him from moving away, but he kept talking. Every word felt like a nail driven into Seth’s mind. It tortured him, chained him to his carelessly given word.

“You said you’d do anything for me. Do this. Help me. I’m tired, Seth. It’s not getting better; it never will. I’m back to the same loop. I don’t want to hurt anymore. All this pain and guilt follows me day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. It’s not life; it’s agony. I want it to stop. I’m a coward, and I don’t want to go to Hell for committing suicide, but this... I can’t carry on feeling like this.”

“I can’t.” Seth shook his head.

“Why not?” Ignaz shifted. His fingers clasped around Seth’s wrist like a cuff. “Because you don’t love me?”

Seth faced him, fists clenching. It took him forever to find words. “Don’t do this. Don’t use me for this. You’ll go, but I’ll stay.”

“I’m sorry,” Ignaz whispered, no remorse showing on his face. “What you said yesterday, it’s not true. Being with you was great. It was the best time I’ve had in years.”

Seth crumpled the bedsheet in his fists. “Then why don’t you give me another chance? I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

“Because there’s no use,” Ignaz said it as if Seth couldn’t understand such simple things. A semblance of a smile played on his lips. A glow of insanity and desperation shimmered behind his pupils as he finally saw the escape but couldn’t reach it. “It’s happening again and again. Happiness doesn’t exist. Everyone lies. Life isn’t like a zebra. There’re no white and black stripes. It’s gray, black, and pitch black. I just had a gray stripe, Seth.”

“No.” Seth shook his head. He felt the pressure on the inner side of his wrist, knew Ignaz’s nails dug deep into his skin, not willing to accept the rejection.

“The numbness, the pain, it won’t go away. It’s not your fault. I just ran out of strength. Please, understand.” Ignaz’s voice broke; his body twisted, tilted to the side as he tried to catch Seth’s gaze, taking the deformed position from his dreams.

Broken... He’s been broken all along; I just didn’t want to admit it.Seth tried to predict Ignaz’s future, but he only saw darkness, tears, and pain. Just like the god in his dreams, Seth had been trying to fix things that couldn’t be fixed. “I understand better than you think.”

“You said people who want to be stopped don’t do it home alone. You were right. I didn’t want to be stopped.”

“Why didn’t you finish then?” Seth whispered.

“Guilt is a terrible feeling. I know it better than anyone. I didn’t want you to carry it. I wanted you to understand and forgive me. I don’t know why, but I feel of all people, you can understand me.”

Seth almost laughed at the irony. For someone who had been searching for acceptance and understanding all his life, he was the one who asked for it.

A lonely grapevine behind the window tried to climb up the smooth glass but couldn’t find anything to wrap around. He felt a kinship with it. He clung to the hope for things that had never been there, could never be.

“I understand,” Seth mouthed. “I do.”

The sky behind the window lightened a fraction. Stars vanished, and the moon gave its place to the waking sun.

For some time, Seth only heard Ignaz’s husky breathing, sniveling, and a rustle of the bedsheet, then Ignaz spoke again. “Do you think there’s anything after death?”

“I do…” Seth didn’t hear himself.

“Will I be judged for taking my own life? It’s a mortal sin, isn’t it? Do you think I see glimpses of hell in my dreams? Is it where I’ll go?”

Seth turned to Ignaz and looked into the dead sea of his soul. In the crystals of salt, he read guilt, grief, detachment, avoidance, fear—everything that weighed his shoulders in this life would follow him into another. It didn’t matter how brightly he glowed for Seth; his heart was heavy with guilt.

“No,” He mouthed. “You will be reborn. You will get another chance.”

“How do you know?” A corner of Ignaz’s mouth curled into a weak, appreciative smile.

“I just do.”

“Would be really nice.” Ignaz’s gaze turned dreamy as he looked at the waking sun. A first sunray, blazing through the room, cast a bloody gleam across his pale throat. Shimmering, it looked like an oozing wound. “If this is the truth, maybe we will meet again, in a better life.”

“Would be really nice.” Seth mouthed. Black vortexes rose in his memory, tearing at the ulcers covering the skin of the dying god. “Please, wait a little longer. At least, until you can’t bear it anymore.”

“Okay.”

They didn’t speak, and a tiny hope that Ignaz might change his mind sprouted in Seth’s chest.

* * *

Days flew by,but despite Seth’s best efforts to cheer Ignaz up, his shoulders folded forward. It was harder and harder for him to get up in the mornings as if every day added weight of silent expectation to him. More often than not, his focus turned inwards to places where Seth couldn’t follow. He didn’t listen or didn’t hear Seth anymore, as if his soul had already moved on, leaving only the shell behind.

Every time Seth entered Ignaz’s bedroom and saw the figurine of the bird they had made together, he felt tightness in his chest followed by a sense of bereavement. Hoping to stir any emotion and break them both free from the anguish of loss, Seth suggested Ignaz join him in the basement to sculpt something, but the boy never agreed.

Without Ignaz’s quiet voice reading books aloud, Seth also lost interest in glassblowing, and he couldn't find the energy to clean the mess he’d created. He stopped going into Ignaz’s bedroom for the same reason. He felt like he’d lost both his passion for glass and the person he loved. It had been more than a week since their last full conversation. Seth tried to escape reality by keeping himself busy, and spent most of his days in the studio, drafting.

He refused to sleep and only entered his bedroom for fresh clothes and to wash as if by avoiding dreaming, he could change the future, but despite his effort, it was inevitably catching up with him.

His watch buzzeddinner time when Seth entered his bedroom to change. The gloomy, lilac shadows of the sunset stretched over the floor, but it was still too bright outside to turn on the lights. A week without sleep added to his mental exhaustion, and he failed to instantly realize that he wasn’t alone.

Ignaz sat on the bed, shaking. His cheeks hollowed and his skin wore a grayish, unhealthy hue.

“Seth…” He shook his head, and his mouth twisted in a painful grimace. Maroon lines hatched his forearms as he thrust his hands forward. A straight blade squeezed in his white-knuckled fist as if he was scared Seth might take it away. “Help me. I can’t do it alone. I’m scared. I don’t want to go alone. I have been alone most of my life. Please, Seth, can you just be with me and hold my hand? I promise you; it’s not a bad thing. It’s a relief.”

Seth wanted to flee, refuse, or do anything to prevent this from happening, but the lack of sleep lowered the borders of realities. He stepped toward the bed, and the god spoke through his mouth, “It’s okay, Little One. You don’t need to do anything. I’ll make it all go away. There will be no more pain. No one will ever hurt you.” He grabbed Ignaz’s wrists, pressuring the points beneath the slashed veins. “It won’t hurt anymore. I promise. I’ll take care of everything.”

Under his touch, the bleeding stopped, Ignaz’s eyes blanked, and he nodded.