Nightingale Eternity

It’s a morning the same as any other. The man wakes up, rolls out of bed and opens his wardrobe. Black shirts fill the space, but he isn’t after any of them today. Instead, the man pulls out the singular white shirt and pair of dungarees that she owns and puts them on. The man heads to his shop, the florist’s. He flips over the open sign and walks into the small space, which is bustling with all sorts of fauna. He places herself at the counter and greets the regulars as they buy their usual round of flowers. Before long, his shift is over, and he grabs a bunch of lilies. There’s a new resident in the block, so a couple of flowers ought to make their day! The man leaves the shop, delivers the flowers, and heads to the garden.

It’s an afternoon the same as any other. The garden is blooming. What was once a stage where the residents of the block performed Macbeth is now surrounded by any and every flower you can think of. But the man doesn’t pay attention to these flowers, instead, he moves to an area filled with dandelions and daisies. He picks a few daises, makes a chain with them, and places it around their neck. She then moves to the back of the garden, where a group of neatly organised plants surrounds a singular bush. This bush is messy; the man has been cutting away at it over several days in order to create his masterpiece, and today he plans to finish it. The man pulls a pair of hairdressing scissors Queenie gave him out of his pocket and begins to chip away at the bush. After some time, a familiar face appears behind him, watching. They greet each other and the man passes his friend another pair of scissors. The two get to work.

Siphy and the man spend several hours clipping away at the bush. Not much is said, the two are leading their own lives now, but that doesn’t mean they can’t work together on a project of this scale. Finally, it is done. In the centre of this new section of the garden lies a large bush, cut into the shape of a chicken. The man admires their creation, before remarking,

“I wonder what John is going to think of this. Oh well. His problem.”

Siphy and the man laugh together; John never liked seeing a chicken anywhere near a bush. The two play a game of Xiangqi before splitting to go back to their respective lives. The man has a spring in their step as he heads back to the florist’s.

It’s an evening the same as any other. The man heads into the workshop at the back of the florist’s and begins to take stock. “A successful day”, she mutters to himself as he finishes gathering the new flowers and ticking off the last item on the to-do list. He picks up her files and opens the desk drawer to put them away. He chuckles as he realises the drawer doesn’t just have papers in it.

“How did you end up in there?” the man laughs, as he pulls a teddy bear out of the drawer. The bear is handmade: the fabric the bear is made from is slightly mismatched, the stitches holding the bear together are uneven and on one leg the word EBONY is sewed in red thread. The man studies the bear, reading his name on its leg. He adjusts the ribbon around its neck, a part of what used to be a red tie, and carefully places the bear in his bag, before heading home.

It’s a night the same as any other. Ebony sits on his bed with his teddy bear in hand and turns on the TV. He flicks through potential films to watch before coming across Cinderella. She smiles, reminiscing. He pulls a red tie with a part cut away out of his bedside table and puts it on, before skipping through the movie to song ‘Oh Sing, Sweet Nightingale’, and sings along.

Just as Cinderella had once wished for freedom, so had the Ebony. Only Ebony didn’t need a fairy godmother to save him. All he needed were some supportive friends and a headless clay chicken.

– by Heather C.

What a blessing it is, to have a second chance. It is a rare thing to find so much forgiveness in others, let alone yourself.

The Nightingale had once scorned any suggestion that he was anything more than what he had been made to be. The Nightingale had placed their sense of self in their ability to harm. The Nightingale is a killer no longer.

Sparrow had grappled with the reality of her actions and their consequences. Phoenix had sought to make things right in any way he could. And now, a new name – an old name – can rejoin their flock of sobriquets; Ebony can start anew.

A new life. A new death. Ebony was new here once, long ago. He treated the Threshold as a child would a sandbox. But it’s more than that to her now, isn’t it? Now it is community, family, humanity. They can be the welcome that newcomers need – a genuine outstretched hand, without a blade concealed in the other. They can find joy in endless mischief as they please, for a prank is much improved by the chance to share its glee. They can take the walls and the jungles of concrete and put their hope into growing a new world, far removed from the afterlife that had crushed so many hopes of new beginnings.

No one ascends, but no one has to die again; there’s comfort to be found in that for an old killer who never grew old. What a blessing it can be, to have a second chance.

Gale takes one of the cards from the deck beside them, and turns it face up, pointing at it. It's the King of Diamonds.

So, this is George. George at his silly little chant. Nobody here because nobody cares. After all, what’s chanting going to do? Nothing.

…

Gale picks up the King of Diamonds and holds it with both hands, the face facing Siphy. It's Britney, bitch!

On the word bitch, Gale rips the card perfectly such that the rip runs cleanly across the king's neck. She throws the ripped pieces to the side.

Ah, isn't the sight so beautiful?

A figure approaches. Its hood covers its face as it walks towards and around George, stopping when it is directly behind the head, out of sight. George can't see the figure as it lowers its hood to reveal the Nightingale. George can't see The Nightingale at he pulls out its knife and looks at the blood still smeared on it. George can't see the tear roll down Ebony's cheek.

George sees nothing. Only the knowledge that someone is behind him.

A voice. A whisper. It's hard to focus, but the voice is there.

“Hello, George.”

The figure behind George shakes uncontrollably. Not that the head has any awareness of this.

Ebony stares at the head in front of him. He'd never felt this way before. What was this emotion causing him to come here? To address their victim? To feel the way she does? The emotion was so raw. So real. Is this really what guilt feels like?

“Look George, I…”

Ebony chokes on his words. Was she really about to say this?

“I'm sorry.”

The tears begin to flow. The Nightingale had never apologised for a kill before. But this wasn't a kill. This was unbearable pain. The thrill of the kill and the joy of the hunt was everything to Gale. But every hunt came to end. The suffering was only temporary. At the end of it all, the victims would be freed. But not here. Here, the victim had to live. To suffer, for what feels like an eternity. Here, Ebony had to face the reality of what Gale did. And he hated it. So much.

Ebony looks at their wet hand after wiping away his tears. She puts the hood back up and walks away.

Ebony takes one final look back at the screaming head, before The Nightingale heads out for good.

You know, I can make chickens with a little bit of love, after all.

Either way though, it looks like it’s going to be an interesting turn of events. Who needs a heist when you can fake a heist and betray your allies?

Gale chuckles again. Even if he is on a 'redemption arc' of sorts, there's no way she's going to turn down an opportunity to do a little bit of (emotional) damage.

Gale panics and talks to himself, as if he's forgotten John is standing right in front of him.

The bombs were supposed to be defused. Siphy defused them. I watched xir do it. How did they still go off? The timer reached zero and they didn't go off. The tower was saved. Everyone was saved. But the damage was still done. George lost his head, Telesto had a battery put in his brain, Jenny's hand got scalded with boiling water, everyone in the tower's lost their homes and livelihoods and it's all because of me. I'm a monster and even when I try to correct things it all just blows up in my face. What were you thinking, Ebony. Of course it just blows up in your face. All you do is hurt people. All you do is cause pain, suffering and death. They were right. After all this time…

Gale suddenly snaps out of her delusion and realises that he's bawling his eyes out in front of John. He composes himself, looks at the chicken again, and continues to cry.

Gale doesn't stop Siphy from leaving. Instead, he stands still, motioning his hand in a similar way to how Siphy did moments earlier, only this time, he doesn't withdraw it. It is simply held out indefinitely.

SIPHY EMAIL:
Siphy does as Orpheus should have. The world swirls. It begins to rain. At least, it does for Siphy.

GALE REPLY:
Gale is left behind. He lowers his hand.

Even if Siphy did as Orpheus should have, in this story Eurydice isn't reunited with the world of the living. Instead, she's left alone, stuck in the world of the dead, with her guilts and regrets.

Finally the punishment she very clearly deserved.

Nightingale watches Queenie, her joy is infectious. He is taken aback as she twirls and falls to the ground. He follows, and lies next to her, looking up at the sky, then to her. His smile is wide and genuine.

I don't think I've ever seen such beauty in this place before. Funny really… I've been here for so many years.

Nightingale pauses.

Thanks Queenie. You've helped me to see beauty I never saw before.