Eternity swirled in the sky above. Countless stars, worlds, lives danced against what was once the dark of night.

He stood alone, head tilted to the heavens, wishing he understood what was expected of him. What was he meant to do? Who was he? Why was he?

He looked down at his hands. Pale, massive, worn with lines and callouses. Beneath that hand was nothing he understood or recognized. Behind his own eyes, he didn’t even understand what machinations were in motion.

“I’ve never seen the sky like this.” He croaked.

You are awake. A voice in his head replied.

“I wasn’t before?” He could barely speak with the new voice he’d only just received.

Not like this.

“Then what was I?”

Naïve and detached from the fabric of reality.

“Naïve.” He scoffed as he looked back up to the sky.

Perhaps… Not in relation to your species.

He choked back an incredulous sob. “What am I now?”

More.

“More?”

You are stronger.

“Stronger?”

Everything existed all at once and yet he knew none of it was truly there. The air he breathed, the feeling of his heart beating in his chest, the pining agony to escape the loneliness… They were all constructs of his worn down humanity.

“It hurts, Qaitax.” He choked. “Sondreh help me, it hurts.”

It will pass.

“What am I…”

You are many things. ‘You are the moonlit path and the things that there dwell.’ The voice of Qaitax sang from the depths of his mind.

A smile crossed his tired lips as he spoke the following lyrics. “I am the next step… and the gates of cloud…”

You are the savior.

“And the grumbling crowd.”

You are the captain.

“And I am the storm… I am the winds that destroy…”

The winds that will push you forward.

“But it felt like something came… It was wearing my face and I’m certain it used my name… Worked hard to burn me…” The melody became clearer in his baritone voice. “And that worked out well,” a sad laugh burst from his lungs, “because it opened up the ground and it walked me into hell…”

But you knew the pathway and you knew the door. So it was opened again and you walked up through the floor.

“Th-this is ridiculous.” He shook his head. “Why are you doing this, Qaitax?”

I-I do not know.

A sad smile crossed his lips.

Is it strange to say it simply feels… right?

“Right? To sing with your host?”

My… Host. Yes.

“That’s what I am, yeah? Your host? Your… Translation for this world?”

Stifling silence came in reply.

He cleared his throat. “A tool.”

You-I…

“The eldritch god is speechless?”

I have many words, I simply know not which I would like to share.

“A-anyway,” he cleared his throat, “So I am the anchor and am I the sail.”

You are the hero.

“And I am the villain in this fairytale…” He could feel his newborn tentacles drifting behind him in the cool night air. “I am the monster…”

And you are the sword.

“I-I am the reason I suffer… But…”

He paused as he searched for the following lines. He knew them, they lingered on the tip of his tongue and the edge of his soul.

“I am the reason I suffer, but I am worth fighting for.”

His cheeks were on fire as a lifetime of sorrow and pain flowed from his eyes.

“I am worth fighting for…” He’d never heard those words before much less thought them. “I-I am…”

Above him time had brought everything together. The past, the present, a distant, unknowable future swirled in the fires of infinite stars.

“I-I am…”

So many lives. So many existences gone, living, and yet to be born.

And yet here he was. Standing on the little dirt ball of Ancora sharing an alien body with a dying god. An abhorrent aberration. Would any of those lives look kindly upon him? Or would he be a monster they’d fear?

What would it matter?

“I-I don’t… I just… I want…”

What do you want?

“To be worth fighting for…”

What says you aren’t?

“I-I don’t…” He cleared his throat before finding the melody again. “I am the reason I suffer, but I am worth fighting for…”

A strange sense of vague approval came from his companion.

“R-right?”

Is that what you want, Sylus Synclaire? To be worth fighting for?

“More than anything…” He breathed. Guilt surged through him for even considering his self worth. No one had ever found value in him. His body, his existence, but his soul? Who he was? His hopes and dreams? His heart ached thinking about any of it. All his life he’d cast himself aside. He had to. Who was he to expect others to understand him? Who was he to think his feelings mattered? That his love was worth more than all that was stolen from him? That he was whole without the approval of others…

Then it is true.

“I-I am worth fighting for…”

So you are.

“I am worth fighting for…” He whispered into the night. A quiet promise to never again fall to those who would seek to destroy him. No one would ever hurt him again. He was free. Free of the pain and suffering of the life before now. No longer was he at their mercy for acceptance. He was who he’d always been. The tentacles were an unexpected perk.

For the first time since the birth of his son, a genuine, soulful smile crossed his lips. Free. He was free. Over and over and over he’d submitted himself to those who would never even see him as human. He thought it was the only way he’d ever find love.

But that was the problem.

He looked to the expanding universe above. For as big as he was, he felt small, but for the first time in his entire life, he felt… Love. For himself. For who he’d become. Who he’d been and who he knew he could be.

“I am the reason I suffer,” he sang into the desert around him, not a soul anywhere to be seen, “but I am worth fighting for!” He threw his arms into the air, cathartic pain welled in his chest. “I am the reason I suffered, but I am worth fighting for!” He screamed into the night. “I AM THE REASON I SUFFER, BUT I AM WORTH FIGHTING FOR!”

You understand, then.

“What’s there to understand?” He chuckled as he adjusted his ill-fitting shirt. “You never answered me when I asked what I am to you.”

You are… Qaitax paused to choose his next word carefully. Useful.

“And that’s all that matters, right?”

R-right…

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you weren’t so sure about that.”

Hm.

“Think about it.” He smiled softly. “We have eternity, after all.”

Author’s Note: This was a crazy spiral of emotions. Between the song itself and whatever I was spilling onto the page, I felt so many things… Tearful things… Special thanks to Rhett for the song 🦑💜🦇