//------------------------------// // Repentance // Story: Binding of Isaac: Beyond // by IAmNotSmartest //------------------------------// *Lazarus shivered in silence, waiting to be called out. Though the robes he’d been given were helped immensely to deal with the bitter chill, it was far from warm. To distract himself, he lay out some excess rags on the snow, making a stick-figure, and a stick-pony. Me and Sombra.  He laid out another figure, far way from the two previous. In his mind’s eye, that was Isaac. Between them, he used a finger to draw an angry face, with horns.   He contemplated his purpose here. His mission. To help the king. To save Isaac. To save everyone. Because I can do it. I know it, I’m here for a reason. I saved him for a reason, and he’s helping me for it. He thought back to his meeting with the king he called friend. How tense it had been. How frightening. How sure he was that he’d die again. Destiny kept me alive; that’s why I’m here. The basement was a challenge, and so is this. Lazarus repeated to himself, trudging endlessly in the biting, icy wind. I can do it; I know I can. I can find Isaac. As soon as he woke up in the softness of the snow, he knew he was free of the basement. And, by extension, the same place as Isaac. So he began wandering the glacier, colder than he’d ever felt- or at least, remembered feeling- calling for Isaac. Praying he would find him. The gentle snowfall devolved into a storm, and then into an outright blizzard. As he was now, he could not see more than a few feet in front of him, and was unable to discern more than… more snow. It wasn’t long before his resolve outlasted his flesh. But he continued, numb, frozen to the core. It was so very cold. But he pressed on. For Isaac. Then he came upon something quite peculiar. Barely visible through the dense precipitation was a single, enormous spire of crystal. And chained to it, in a crucified position, was a unicorn. Ebony fur, hung heavy with icicles and snow. His hooves were impaled into the facet of the spire with yet more crystals. Lazarus, in his haze of cold, still found the clarity of mind to offer a prayer for the corpse. He began to trudge past it, waist deep in the snow. It stirred. In a burst of vitality granted by his concern, he stumbled back to the spire as quickly as he could. The wind blew hard on the corpse, the unfrozen portions of it’s fur whipping wildly in the gale. Lazarus scowled up at it. No. I’m sure I saw something. I’m… I’m sure. He approached it, and touched a hind hoof, the only he could reach. It’s still warm. The child tried to pry the body off of the crystals from the bottom. It didn’t budge. He hopped up, and after a few tries, managed to grab hold of the legs. He pulled with his whole weight, braced against the crystal. Please. I can help him. Lazarus promised to no one in particular. He’s still there. He doesn’t need to suffer anymore.  The body came free with a loud shattering of ice and stone. Both the child and the unicorn fell into the soft snow below. The child struggled, dragging himself up out of the snow, and from under the unicorn. Catching his breath, he turned the unicorn to his back, putting a hand on where he guessed the heart was. He couldn’t feel anything. Just warmth. Out of desperation, the child wrapped his arms around the apparent cadaver, clutching it tightly in a futile hug. The warmth, while appreciated in the biting, intense cold, only further troubled him. What’s wrong? Why won’t he wake up? The child felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He knew there was something there, he wouldn’t be warm for no reason. He had to have come across it for a reason! There had to be something he could do! It convulsed slightly. Lazarus, startled, tried to pull away, and found himself crushed up against the pillar himself. The unicorn, already returned to an aggressive stance, was pressing him firmly against it with a blaze of grey magic. He looked at the face, which momentarily reflected his own panic. It shifted almost automatically into scowl, green eyes glaring at him unforgivingly. “Who are you?” The child, cringing fearfully, replied in a squeaky tone, “Lazarus.” Have mercy, he begged silently. Don’t hurt me, please… There was a moment of tension. Lazarus thought the pressure increased, if but for an instant, then it slowly faded, until he fell to the snow again, shivering in cold and fear. He dared not look up, partially out of his wariness of another attack, and partially due to the snow melting on his face. After a moment, the unicorn spoke. “Why have you freed me? Who sent you?” Lazarus could hear an incredibly faint tremble in his low voice. The child swallowed. “I- I just found you here… I wanted to help…” It was silent. The unicorn, eventually, said softly, “Then you do not know who I am? Why I am here?” Lazarus nodded frantically. With a hint of surprise, the stallion ventured further, “You acted purely out of altruistic intention?” A less panicked nod was his reply. He looked up, slowly. The unicorn faced the horizon. The snow had somehow all but entirely stopped in the brief moments of their confrontation. At the edge, he could faintly see some form of glowing tower. The unicorn, not turning to him, asked him quietly, “Do you still wish to help me?” Lazarus, rising to his knees, caught a look at the stallion’s face from the side. A small stream of tears ran down. He seemed to smile, grimace, and cringe at the sight all at once. Ruminations and memories flooding behind the stony shield of his eyes. It was the face of worries finally alleviated, to be replaced with trials yet determined. Relief in the moment, when he knew more pain would follow. The face of someone who had committed atrocities beyond comprehension. The face of someone who never deserved the pressure to commit them. The face of remorse. The face of repentance. The face of a sinner who had cause to sin. He looks like… Lazarus realized. Like… Isaac. Like me. He scrambled to his feet, rags flowing breezily in the wind. Tears drying, he affirmed with determination, “I will.” The wind blew hard. The horned face was erased, and the rags blew quickly over the hill. Out of his hiding place, in the direction of… of… Oh no.