I Blame You, Too

by Whitestrake

The Dawn of Time Breaks/See the Sun Rise to The Sky/ The Wheel of Time Begins to Turn

Taylor---

We wandered for what felt like years, completely unaware of anything around us aside from what may have been our objective. Being dead was rather enlightening, I suppose. I stood there, in the bowels of the Great Unknowable, standing next to Trixie as we hovered towards our fate. Even now, I don’t know if she was a figment of my imagination conjured up to keep my grip on reality, to remind me of my duty, to keep me in the fight, or if she was conjured by the Warp, and was meant to distract me, force me to lose myself in the endless labyrinth of emotion that was the world beyond our own.

Please, forgive me for waxing philosophical; I get this way whenever I think or talk about Trixie. The two of us have… history, if you haven’t already read about it, and plenty of our history isn’t recorded on any official documents.

“I’ve no earthly idea what we may face ahead, Lulamoon,” I said as the ghostly swirls and ripples of thought coalesced around us into a nicely tiled floor and lavishly decorated walls. Each tile was triangular, and each triangle was made of three right angles and yet lay completely flat on the floor. The walls were decorated in Renaissance era artworks I hardly recognised, distorted and changed as my memories faded and concepts of beauty shifted.

“Nor do I, Taylor,” she agreed, stepping closer to my side as we walked; I missed this feeling of closeness, this companionship. Trixie was very dear to me in life, and with me in death, and some damnable part of me wished this never had to end. I had a wife and child and oaths sworn under the view of the highest courts of every nation of Equus and I would have forsaken them all if it meant having her back in the living world. It took every fiber of my being to remember that her memory was with me always, and always would she remain.

At some point in our journey, we shifted to walk along one of the walls, and then onto the ceiling, and the floor once more as we came before a great set of stone doors. Each door was carved in exquisite details, depicting battles and worlds won, enemies of mankind slain, and corruption cleansed. Trixie and I shared a look as only comrades can, and we pushed with all our might to break this seal; through either strength or anger, the stone crumbled beneath us, and we tumbled into a large, open space, circular as a colosseum, about one hundred meters wide and ten meters deep. At once, Trixie and I were stood in the center, under the watchful gaze of those gathered in the seats overlooking the arena.

A wolf, a knight, a centurion, a hydra, a paladin, a dragon, a raven, and a nomad stood to our left, meeting both our gaze even as eight more loomed over our right side. The grim visages of a slave, a wizard, a lion, a builder, a painter, a bat, a priest, and death itself made themselves known. Directly ahead of us was the angel of my visions, and directly behind us was the void of eternity.

“We, who are about to die, salute you, Caesar,” I chuckled, feeling the weight of the world crashing down on me.

“I have no idea what you’re referencing,” Trixie grumbled, turning her head from side to side as she pondered our situation.

“Then let’s not waste time explaining.” I stepped forward and threw my arms out. “What do you want?” I shouted at the top of my lungs, filled with the righteous fury I’d felt so often in my life. “To torment me? To keep me from those who need me?” I spun around, glaring at each statue that dare stand above me but feel so cocksure as to ignore me. “Show yourselves, you bastards!”

I waited, and waited, and not an answer was spoken, but my challenge was not unheard. The ground trembled, and another door rose from the red sand beneath us. A hulking man clad in only a pair of roughspun trousers and the large sword in his hands stepped through.

I fucking hate brawls like these.

I dove to the right as he swung at me, rolling as I hit the ground and strafing to get behind him. I swung a punch, as hard as I could, and clocked him in the side of the head. It didn’t do much.

Amos---

It took three days for us to receive any sign that Taylor could recover, for the barest blip to appear on his brainscan. The Imperial Guard had been hard at work fighting the greenskins, supplemented by the Equestrian Inquisition operating in human disguise, and the battles were going well. The saber was successfully reforged, with a new power cell and all, but it stood against the bed The Burned Man lay in, a mere decoration for all the good it did for its wielder.

But, I saw the monitor move, I heard the beep, and I knew I wasn’t fooling myself. Taylor was going to live, and he just needed a reason to pull through. It wasn't five minutes later the monitors flooded back to full life, with brainscans reading higher than they could have been expected of any normal human. I ran into the hall to call the medicae.

Taylor grunted behind me as I leaned halfway out the door, struggling against his restraints hard enough to shake every instrument connected to him. He flinched and cried out, and at once I was reminded he was so much younger than myself, barely more than a boy; it was not a cry of pain one expected of a man, the voice was breaking like a teenager’s and I could see tears rolling down from under the bandages covering his eyes. He was was mumbling something in his language, and I was thankful I could not understand.

The medics arrived shortly and administered a sedative to calm him in hopes he would become lucid, but to no avail.

Taylor---

This swordsman was skilled enough to hold both Trixie and I off, and fast enough attack with his blade before I could use my fists. It was by sheer luck Trixie managed to separate his weapon from his hand, and perverse luck that allowed him to pin me against the coarse, crimson sand.

“Blast him!” I choked out even as hands crushed my windpipe.

“I can’t!” came the reply as she lit her horn up, only for her magic to simply bounce off our enemy’s hide. She screamed and slammed into his side without effect, stumbling back as though she’d struck a brick wall.

I tried to punch and kick and struggle and everything else I could, but my vision was growing dark, and I idly wondered what happened if I died while dead. Desperate, I grabbed at the sand to find something, anything, to help. A rock, a piece of metal, a handful of the sand itself to throw in his eyes, anything at all! I grabbed a hard, cylindrical stone and swung it into his gut.

I was never more elated to see the burning blade of my powersaber rend through flesh like white-hot knife through melted butter.

Author's Note:

I've been drinking! And that's why this exists!

Comments

[recentteen14]

3 year dead fic coming back? I Blame You, Too at that? I didn't know Christmas was on March 1st now. Seriously, I've missed this series.

[Razzy]

It lives! Awesome!

Drink more if that's the result.

[BrassSpyglass]

The Inquisition should investigate you for necromancy

[More Dakka]

"Oh story that dwells in long forgotten ages, rise up again and walk the front pages!"

'Waves voodoo stick in a whimsical way'

[LunarSeraph]

Babe, I think you're a month early

[Moak]

7990781
A couple months late, he missed christmas ;D

[DaCrazyOne]

An update? Emperor be praised!
Good to see you back from the dead.

[Valiant Knight]

I unfollowed this story when you labelled it "Cancelled" (or maybe I'm just imagining that), and just rediscovered it by chance two days ago. Consequentially, I had forgotten everything that had happened, so I spent two days binging "I Blame You" and "I Blame You, Too" to reacquaint myself.

It was well worth it.

Great work, man!

[John bostock]

Update?