Sitting in Gunderson’s eye-catching red convertible, I watched absently as the scenery passed me by, the wind whipping through my dark brown hair. My elbow meanwhile rested itself on the car door while my arm dangled happily off the side, feeling the air flow through my fingers.
Gunderson was driving me back home now, after my brief, but eventful visit to the IDPA’s office.
The majority of our trip back down through the office and the coffee shop was a quiet one.
Right after I had posed my heartfelt question to Gunderson, he was quick to reassure me that, “No! You won’t die Jenni, not from monsters, not while you're still a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, and not on my watch. I give you my word on that.”
Those were the words Gunderson said to me. They felt just as heartfelt as the question I had asked him, but still, they didn’t do as much as I hoped to calm my fears.
I could tell he had his own baggage around supernaturals dying. Clearly he meant what he said about not wanting that fate for me. Whether he'd succeed in his task was another matter though. I’m a bit biased, but I hoped he would.
After he gave his sincere response to my question, I didn’t say anything back. I did feel the sincerity in his answer, but it didn’t and couldn’t quell the storm of feelings that were continuing to churn about inside me at the time. I went back to looking back down at the floor and quietly followed along beside Gunderson as he led me out through the rest of the IDPA offices.
I was thankful he hadn’t tried to pry, and get me to talk more then. I wasn’t sure if he could tell how I was feeling and was just giving me space, or if he actually just didn’t know what to say to make me feel better. In any case, just leaving me alone to sort through my feelings was what I wanted and needed at the time, and Gunderson gave me the space to do that, intentionally or not.
Our silent procession continued the entire way through the office, and back through the teleporting toilet portal thing. Which was still super weird by the way. I wish I knew how it worked though, magically speaking.
Out we went through the still-occupied coffee shop, not saying a word to each other, or to anyone who might've wanted to talk to us. Eventually, we made our way back to Gunderson’s flashy red convertible. Once there, I made my way to the front passenger seat and promptly sat down on the comfy white leather seat, my new book on magic tightly clutched in my hands.
Gunderson, still not saying a word to me, sat down on his own seat, started the car up, and drove us back out onto the busy street.
That had been maybe fifteen minutes ago, and we were now about halfway back to school and the area where I lived. I really didn’t want to go back to school right now though, I had way too much on my mind. Having to pay attention in class, and deal with whatever gossip or question I might get from other people was a headache I didn’t need or want right now.
So much had happened to me in such a short period. I never really got the chance to process any of my thoughts and feelings on this stuff properly. It didn’t help of course that all of it seemed to be completely outside the scope of my understanding of how the world worked.
Turns out magic and monsters were real, and now it's my job to kill them. Even if I was a decent student, and a middling athlete, in the end I was still just a normal everyday socially awkward teenager. Now though, I was somehow tasked with some kind of sacred mission to kill monsters and save the Earth. It was ridiculous.
I never wanted this. I never asked for any of this to happen.
I guess that that was Irmingir’s point though, even if he was a complete a-hole in how he got it across.
He was right, I was basically just a conscript in this crazy messed up situation. I was just some random girl picked to dispatch some monsters and likely destined to die a grisly death well before I even reached my thirties. I really was just cannon fodder after all.
The futility I felt, and the sense of loss at my normal life being stolen from me, was causing my eyes to start to well up with tears. Quiet and poorly hidden sniffling sounds followed soon after. This was so stupid. On one hand, I’ve been given these amazing magic powers and abilities, but it's only to be a pawn for this disembodied system or to be ordered around by people at the IDPA.
Why should I worry about school, my friends, college, my life as it was, or even my future? I’m just going to have to keep fighting monsters over and over again until eventually one of them kills me.
I could feel my eyes getting a bit more irritated, and my cheeks getting a little more wet with running tear streaks. Gripping my new book tightly in my left hand, I did what I could to wipe my face with my right in a desperate attempt to hide my embarrassing outpouring of emotions from the person sitting beside me.
It quickly became obvious though that Gunderson had noticed my behavior, and the feelings I was poorly trying to hide. He had slowed down the speed at which he was driving to turn and gave a long look in my direction.
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The look that I saw mirrored in his eyes revealed a genuine sympathy, making it clear to me that he truly did understand and empathize with what I was feeling. The kind of understanding that comes with time and shared experience. What kind of life and hardships Gunderson had experienced up till now? I almost didn’t want him to say anything then, and just let that quiet moment of feeling understood persist. It was nice.
But after his brief look in my direction, Gunderson finally broke the silence he had been maintaining ever since we were still in the IDPA office.
“Irmingir can be a real ass huh.” He told me simply.
“Heh, yeah a bit.” Even if the silence was broken, I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better. “Though I kinda wish you had told me he was a Half-Orc before we actually met him.”
“Ah shoot, right, I should have realized you've never actually been face to face with a non-human paranatural before.” Gunderson said while scratching his head sheepishly. “I’m so used to seeing him every day that I didn’t think twice about it.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at Gunderson, and instead just confirmed what he said.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the first non-human that I’ve met, or at least the first one I’ve talked to.” I told him.
“Pretty sure? You think you’ve met another one?” He asked.
“Well, at the party with the monster, I could’ve sworn I saw a girl with pointy ears sticking out of her hair, but I never actually got the chance to talk to her.”
“Probably has elven blood, wouldn’t surprise me. I imagine there are a handful of glamoured paranaturals that are attending your school right now, but you just never noticed they were different until the Akashic Record picked you.” Gunderson informed me.
“Picked me…?” I mused. “Was Irmingir telling the truth when he said I was just picked at random?”
“No, not exactly. He was right that the Akashic Record selects from a pool of people that are within the area of the problem it needs dealing with. However, within that area, it makes its choice based on the qualities and nature of the individuals available to it.” Gunderson explained.
“So…it's not random.” I asked.
“Like I said, not exactly. Think of it like this, the Akashic Record detects that a new monster incursion is going to be happening in the center of a large downtown metro. The large population size that is near that area gives the Akashic Record a large pool of candidates to pick from. In that case, it can be very choosy and look for the very best person for the circumstances.” Gunderson explained while gesturing with his right hand. Thankfully he was still competent and sane enough not to take the other one off the steering wheel as well.
“Now imagine that a monster incursion is about to pop up in the middle of a very sparsely populated desert. There are no nearby supernaturals to get there in time, so the Akashic Record does what it does, and looks for a new person to be selected. This time though there are only a small handful of candidates. Even in this case, it would still sort through the few options it has and select whichever one seemed most suited to dealing with the problem.
“So then, what you’re saying is, I was the best candidate near the area of the monster I fought.”
“Yep, more or less.” Gunderson happily confirmed.
I was grateful to Gunderson for explaining these things to me, in part because it helped to distract me from feeling sorry for myself. It also explained to me a bit more about what Irmingir meant when he was trying to belittle me for not being special.
“How big is this selection area, I still find it hard to believe that I was the best person it could find, even if it was only looking at people from my school.” I told him bitterly.
“Well, you’ve told me yourself you get very good grades, so that must mean you're pretty smart compared to your peers. Intelligence is certainly a quality the Akashic Records looks for, and it works well with the class it gave you.”
“I’m not sure how well acing a history exam and writing decent book reports translates to flinging magical balls of energy out of my hands.” I told him.
“You’d be surprised.” He told me with a smile.
I rolled my eyes at him again.
“Look, I’m sorry I let Irmingir go so far back there. I should have spoken up sooner and stopped him from getting in your face like that.” Gunderson said, the discomfort clear in his voice.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I tried to reassure him. “And as harsh and aggressive as Irmingir was, he was only trying to force me to see the truth I’ve been trying to ignore.”
“That you’re a supernatural?” Gunderson asked.
“No, well yes, but that I’m not normal anymore. I can’t go back to my old life and pretend none of this ever happened.” As I was verbalizing my feelings to Gunderson, my emotions were starting to roil inside me once again. “If I want to live, I’ll have to fight, and…and I need to…to accept that I might be killed, that I might die.”
Gunderson was silent for a while after I finished speaking. I gave him a curious look to see if he had heard me, we were still driving at a good clip down the road in a convertible after all. Wondering if the wind had actually drowned out my words, I almost tried to repeat myself before Gunderson finally spoke up.
“You aren’t going to be killed in action Jenni. I told you that once, and I’ll tell you again. I won’t let it happen.” His voice was firm when he told me this. “I know I’ve been a bit…unprepared for helping you, but more than anything else in my life, ensuring you live a long and healthy life is my number one priority.”
I turned to look at him after he said this. Gone was his typical friendly smile, his face was now hard and stern.
“I’m far from an expert, but I don’t think you should let yourself be bothered by the harsh things the others said about you. I’ve appreciated your patience and kindness a lot. Plus you have answered every question I’ve asked you." I tried to tell him with a smile. "Really, you could say it's my fault for not asking you the right questions sooner."
“Thank you Jenni, it's nice of you to say that. But they are right about me. I should have been better prepared. I told them I was ready. I’ve had years to think about…” Gunderson seemed to intentionally cut short his thoughts.
“What happened to you before, does it have something to do with the Matteo the others mentioned?” I asked Gunderson with innocent intentions.