The Sinner

Well, then you went wherever the hell you wanted to.

Brother mine.

As the Scribe Virgin communicated her greeting, she regarded her sibling with reserve. There were conclusions she came unto, but she kept them free of her thoughts. The pair of them were, as many twins were, connected on a deep level, and there were things he mustn’t know.

The Omega floated around before her, hovering above the white and black marble floor, the shadow which was his essence spilling out from under robes that had previously always sparkled with cleanliness, but were now stained and torn.

She was surprised at the sadness she felt over his disintegration. How fare thee, Brother?

You know the answer to that. The Omega stopped, the draping that covered his features moving around to face her. Why must we always meet here?

When you were allowed to choose the site, you picked a morgue.

A chuckle came out from beneath the dirty white hooding. I did.

And then a murder scene.

To be fair, I was working that night.

And finally, a car accident.

That one was perfectly appropriate. The Omega shrugged. Indeed, Father always says we should do more things together.

I do not believe that includes being in a car as it careens off a cliff.

We would have had the whole trip down to the ocean to talk. The driver was drunk, he would not have heard us, anyway. And there was plenty of room in the back seat of that SUV.

It was not appropriate a’tall.

You are such a stiff, Sister mine.

Tell me how you are, Brother.

The Omega drifted over to the marble balustrade that ran around the grand, theatrical staircase. The main lights had been dimmed as the facility was closed for the night, but sconces glowed sweetly upon many a wall and the wrought iron chandelier that hung from a heavy chain over the descent of marble steps cast soft illumination.

I am very well, thank you.

You can stop this, you realize. The Scribe Virgin moved closer, but not too close. This war that was started so long ago can be voluntarily ended upon our agreement.

Can it? The dingy hood shook back and forth as the Omega seemed to be looking down the stairway, down to the broad and beautiful entrance foyer with its statues upon pedestals and carved messages of intellect. I do not believe it can.

Simply stop fighting. Stop attempting to kill what I have created for sport. And then it is over.

Ah, Sister, but what I do is not for sport. It is my nature to destroy. Balance to the force of you and all that, the pair of us created with deliberation by Father. We are the Alpha and the Omega, Analisse. Do you not speak of this truth with some regularity? Surely it is not something I must teach unto you after all these centuries.

The Scribe Virgin backed off and went on her own wander, moving herself across the floor until she reached the closed double doors of the rare book room. Through glass insets that were reinforced with chicken wire, she stared at the collection of leather-bound volumes and felt a draw unto the old oak shelves and the peaceful contemplation offered by so many pages filled with so many words.

She had always loved libraries. Collections of prose. Stories that were based upon real life. And had this congress with her sibling been of different circumstance, she would have touched the glass with a plaintive, yearning hand. But she knew too much of her brother. No appendages should be extended nor weakness shown.

You will be destroyed, she intoned as she faced her sibling.

You sound as though that would be a regret for you.

You are my brother. Of course I would mourn you.

I am your enemy. The Omega rotated around so they were squared off across the polished floor, two opposing chess pieces on a life-sized board of black and white marble squares. It has always been thus—and further, I cannot exist without you. As well, you cannot exist without me.

That is untrue. The Prophecy provides so.

No, the Omega corrected. That stanza states that there is one who would see the end of me. Simply because the wording lacks mention of you does not mean you shall be unaffected. Would you not say that you urge me the now to quit more to protect yourself than out of any familial love for me?

No, I would not say that.

Then you lie. There is me in you as there is you in me. You can be quite as devious as I can, Sister. Which brings me to my purpose in seeking this audience. The Omega’s transmission of words grew deeper in tone, falling an octave. I expect you to stay out of the conflict. Per our agreement.

What say you the now, Brother? I am uninvolved.

You most certainly are not uninvolved. Or do you think I am unaware of your little visit in church with the Dhestroyer earlier this eve?

The Scribe Virgin felt her ire rise. I am permitted to interact with my creations.

You are not allowed to sway them with respect to our conflict. The contest must be fair—you yourself stated this long ago when you insisted we codify our roles and obligations. And this evening, you warned the Dhestroyer such that he has sequestered your borne son from the field. Unfair, Sister.

The Scribe Virgin deliberately shielded her thoughts. Are you aware that I have stepped aside?

Stepped aside how?

I have relinquished my role of overseer of mine creation to another. Did you not know this?

Given the long pause that followed, it was evident he did not.

I have, Brother mine. I am no longer in my Sanctuary. I have assigned my authority unto another and I have departed.

The hood moved as if the Omega recoiled. Whyever for?

Over the course of eons, I have determined that my strength is in creation. It is not in the maintenance of such creation. She thought of her borne son and daughter. The act of bringing into being a mortal—or many of them—is not the same as parenting them. One does not know this until it is too late, however. Until one has done damage that is regrettable.

It was a relief to speak her truth aloud, but she stopped herself. Her brother was hardly a trusted confidant and she had likely given him too much already.

Meanwhile, the Omega tilted his head and drifted by at the balustrade, staring down to the staircase, to what was below. When he came back toward her, she braced herself for some kind of pronouncement. Or a triumphal insult about her lack of fortitude.

Where do you stay the now? he asked instead.

I spend time with Father. But mostly, I drift through the centuries and observe my behavior. I try to see where I went wrong. There is much to review in that regard. An urgency to change her sibling’s course made her want to go unto his side, but she kept herself where she was. And that is why I say unto you, stop this. Relinquish. Depart the field of conflict and save yourself.

The Omega shrugged beneath his tattered robe. And then do what?

Exist. Learn— As the Omega made a dismissive sound, the Scribe Virgin tightened her tone. ’Tis better than not existing.

I may still win, you realize. The hood turned toward her. You take for granted the outcome shall be in your favor.

Surely it is better to concede than to risk being destroyed.

One of the stained robe’s sleeves lifted, and the black shadow of her brother appeared to be lifting a forefinger. Ah, but remember my nature.

Even if you are the one annihilated? Surely that is a foolish testament to your character.

At least it is my purpose culminated, which is more than I can say for you the now.

The Scribe Virgin shook her head. Creation is linked with nurturing. Or at least it should be. I have excelled at the former, I seek to discover the skills of the latter. I would say that is a worthwhile pursuit.