Post- apocalypse Theron (after Bren dies) loses his memory- it's not an immediate thing, like the Corpses' memories, but he just gradually forgets everything. He becomes The Voyance, and has no personality or identity beyond that; it's his job to oversee his city, to make sure his city prospers, and to make sure his city grows. Where he once had a personality, he has only an insatiable hunger for destruction.
He may actually be connected to the city in some way; it's an extension of his body. I'm sure Silverlock could have taught him to do something like that- Silver is evil in a way I'm not entirely comfortable contemplating, and he does end up being Theron's teacher. Silver's magic is all in the physical world, and his power comes from the connections between the physical and aetherial. The concept of "City" and the concept of "Theron" could be connected without a whole lot of trouble, and Theron would be able to draw off that power.
That's irrelevant, really. What's important is that Theron doesn't know who he is anymore than Walker can remember who Brenon was. Muse might, but she's crazy.
Muse is like Walker- her name is her position, and she was the second Corpse Theron created. Like Walker, she is different from all the other citizens of Theron's city. She's a repository for memories. (This means that Stella probably is descended from Rozhaeonil, which makes her some sort of crazy fifth cousin to Bren and Mih, since foresight does run in their family.) Anyway, Muse gets all the memories that Theron siphons off when he makes a live person into a Corpse. I'm not sure what she does with them; recites them constantly, I suppose. She doesn't have her own memories or Bren's, because they were created through a different procedure.
The final scene on the rooftop (which is actually the initial scene, because it starts the flashback that is the entire story) is where Walker, with Stella's help, figures out how to force Theron to remember. Theron's memories weren't removed, he just forgot things naturally- forced them out of his head so he could keep on living, more or less. (Technically Theron is alive, in the sense that he never actually died. He's not human anymore, though.)
Once he remembers what he was- an Omnismith (and an asshole), Theron can use his powers as an Omnismith to rewrite everything. What he'll probably do is bring Brenon and Mih back to life (maybe Stella, too), and wipe out the entire country of Radrezhaea. If he's connected to the city, this will nearly kill him for good, but Bren and Mih are healers, and once the city is gone, the disturbances in the Threads will be gone and they'll be able to Craft easily again. So, Theron survives.
And they all live happily ever after, and Radrezhaea gets wiped off the face of the map for the fourth time in the history of this world. (First time, Dragon Wars before the creation of the gods. Second time, Dragon Revival, immediately before the splitting of Wisdom and Memory. That one was a doozy- Radra and Draco totally went batshit and ate the entire countryside. Third time, Radra's son and daughter had a deathmatch, and exploded most of everything.) Sheesh.
Of course, Brenon can't really let Theron off the hook for two hundred years of trying to take over the world with zombies. Also, that whole sleeping with his corpse thing? Not cool.
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"Hey."
Theron, in typical Theron fashion, ignored him. Some things never changed.
"Theron." Bren sat down beside his friend and tore at the grass. The sky was still gray, and probably would be for a while yet, but the vegetation had come back with a vengeance. The trees were stunted and twisty, and the grass was dry and cut into his hands, but it wasn't concrete, and that was all that mattered. Theron continued to ignore him.
"Hello?" A clod of dirt struck Theron's sleeve and dropped off. Bren followed it with a handfull of the sharp edged grass. "Fire and Sand, Theron, would you look at me?" Finally impatient, Bren punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
"Shit!" Theron tipped over, as Bren had expected him to. Supreme ruler of the universe or not, he was still a scrawny little bastard, and Bren was immature enough to take pleasure in his ability to bludgeon Theron into submission. It was such a relief to be himself again; he was still Walker, but he wasn't only Walker anymore.
The dark haired man (still a boy, almost) glared up at Bren as he righted himself.
Bren ignored the glare. "You should have just acknowledged my presence the first time I tried to get your attention," he said mildly.
"You didn't have to hit me."
"Yeah, well, we all do things we don't have to do sometimes." He settled back into the grass with a sigh, digging his fingers into the dirt. Maybe in a few more weeks, they'd see the sun again. That would be nice. "And you'd have just sat there if I hadn't."
"What do you want?" Bren couldn't see Theron's face, but he knew the expression that went with that voice like he knew the intimate details of Solneki's spinal column.
"Nothin'. Just out enjoying the grass."
Theron snorted, but Bren ignored him this time. Being Walker had taught him the value of silence, and he still didn't know what to say to Theron. He wasn't sure there was anything to say.
On second thought, there definitely was. He let the silence stretch out a bit longer anyway, just to make Theron uncomfortable. "I can't believe you had sex with my dead body."
He'd never heard Theron make that particular noise before; Bren sat up slightly, and committed the new expression to memory. Priceless. He'd never actually seen Theron blush before, either.
"You were only a little dead." The way Theron curled in on himself was familiar; the position was taken right out of their childhood, and it looked vaguely awkward in Theron's adult body. Bren punched him again, lightly.
"Still. I was dead. That's totally not consensual." He grinned to take the sting out of the words; it felt good to smile again, even if his smile felt more like the edge of a knife than anything else.
"You weren't complaining." Theron's voice was muffled by his arms, but Bren could see the edges of his blush creeping down his neck. "And if it makes you feel any better, I thought you were still alive."
"Yeah, thanks, that helps. Don't lie to me to make me feel better. Asshole." He grabbed Theron's arm, and tried to wrestle him out of his defensive curl. "Come on, look at me. We're talking about this, okay? Flames, you're still underfed. When's the last time you ate?" His hand encircled Theron's wrist easily, and the bones felt fragile in his grip.
"Seventy three years ago." Theron wrenched his wrist out of Bren's grasp, but didn't hide his face again.
"Well that explains it, I guess. We'll have to make Mordant cook something. He's pretty good at it, you know, though I wouldn't put it past him to poison us all." He leaned back on his hands and looked thoughtfully up at the sky, seemingly unconcerned with the sudden change of subject. "You know what I've missed? Candied violets. When we get to Rothcar, we should see if we can find any. Maybe pick up some honey comb, for old time's sake, hm?"
"You were never this cruel, before." Theron's voice was low.
"I learned from the best." He punched Theron in the shoulder again, lightly. "Stop sulking. You've finally got what you wanted- I'll never forget you, now." Forgiveness was another matter entirely, of course, and not something Bren wanted to discuss now, if ever.
Theron flinched.
Enough of Walker survived in him to enjoy this. "It's not like I'm going to leave you. It's not like I can. We're all that's left of that world, us and Mih, and we'll stick together for Memory's sake, if nothing else. Speaking of Mih, though- I can kind of understand you having sex with my dead body, since you're never half as subtle as you think you are, but my sister?"
Theron finally smiled- it was a Theron smile, a combination of pure malice and wry amusement. "You want me to say it was because she looked like you, but really, she was just a warm body. Somewhat warm body. You know how it goes."
"You're sick," Bren said, conversationally. He lay back in the grass, arms folded behind his head. "Completely disgusting. Your mother should have eaten you when you were born."
If mentioning Shanreth affected Theron, he gave no indication of it. "I love you."
It wasn't exactly the answer Bren had expected, or even the answer he wanted, but it was probably the best he was going to get. "And they said you were the smart one."
"I am the smart one. You've learned a few new tricks, but you're still an idiot."
Familiar territory felt good, Bren reflected. The pieces of himself he'd been missing for so long were gradually returning, and it felt good. Some of the new things were good, too- Stella's smile in particular struck him as something very good indeed, and he could appreciate it no matter who he was. But this- pointless banter, casual insults- this was home.
Of course Theron loved him. Bren had known that since they were children; it hadn't meant anything then, and it didn't mean anything now. He doubted it ever would. There was no point in letting stupid things get between them.
"I've still never been out of the country, you know." The sudden shift in conversation was smooth; they'd had years of practice, after all. "Tell me about Rothcar?"
Theron tore up a handfull of grass and began weaving the stems together. "It's been a long time since I lived there. Things have probably changed."
"I know. Tell me what you remember, anyway."
Theron tilted his head back, smiling another little Theron-smile, the sad one. "Okay."
Bren closed his eyes and listened; lying in the grass like this, he could almost pretend nothing had changed.
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The major theme behind the last part of the story? Liminality. I keel myself ded, sometimes.
This was meant to be cute and vaguely humorous, but Walker is fuckin' weird, which means Bren is fuckin' weird.
I don't feel sorry for Theron; no one does. He knows his place in the world, and in Bren's life, and he's actually somewhat content with it. He'll never stop wanting, of course, but it won't ever matter enough to interfere with their friendship. Bren won't let it, and neither will he.
There's something symbolic in this, but there always is, and I'm glad to be able to give them all something resembling a happy ending.
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