Chapter Fifteen

B A I L A R : CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?

“So this place can get rain too..”

Gloomy. The day was gloomy. Osiris leaned against the window, fogging up the glass as he pondered life.

As he pondered he drew a few sensual lightsabers across the glass.

It looked like a child drew them.

He then got to work on a really bad depiction of a bird with a little snake tail.

He was bored.

Like the doctor lady promised she did not show today. He was hoping she’d never return, but a seven day break sounded nice.

Water pelted the glass at an angle.

There’s a bit of wind.

Osiris pushed away from the glass.

The sound of soft slaps of feet and the rustling of clothes filled the room.

Soon Osiris was dressed to impress.

The overalls were half brown, half black, like a chimera cat. The pockets and latches were cartoonishly big, but it felt comfortable to move in.

He felt like he could run away without worrying about his pants falling down now.

Osiris glanced at the boots.

They were brown, ugly. Though they looked big, they were the only ones that fit.

Osiris wiggled his toes.

The smell of burning leather filled the air. Right. Another thing he was curious about. Osiris sighed.

After running his fingers through his hair he tried parting it how the maids did and failed.

The thum of the rain grew louder.

After fiddling with his desk drawers Osiris found a pair of scissors and went back to his reflection. A feeling of loss grew as he lobbed off chunks of pink ash. Adam dusted himself off.

After a few more pat downs Osiris went to the door and tested the handle. It budged. He pushed harder and what met him on the other side was.. nothing. The halls were empty.

Thunder bellowed.

The King had kept his promise.

Sort of.

White halos and stylized creatures stuck to the backs of hidden guards, making for an interesting horror show throughout darkened halls.

Rain pelted the glass.

He started with the third floor.

Rooms. Nothing but rooms in different styles like a quirky hotel with each room a different theme. The gray wash made going into them eerie.

Osiris closed the doors. He had yet to see another human in sight.

He eventually made it to the King’s room. It was quite obvious by the two guards standing at his door.

“Off limits, even to you little prince.”

Osiris moved on.

He was feeling a bit winded by the end of his little tour and feeling a little thirsty. Not much to see but a lot of good hiding spots and some good materials found.

There was a slight jingle in his steps these days.

The guards watched.

The second floor was a lot of the same, but the rooms were made to match in theme. He has yet to see a single piece of furniture made with low grade material.

Osiris looked at his shoes.

The rubber was beginning to burn.

He did find a few pieces of candy on the pillows. They were old and a bit dusty but it tasted okay.

The first floor was where the people were.

Osiris was estranged, but content. He was left alone and as he moved around these massive rooms he could see that everyone had been replaced.

He tried not to look up at the bells over all their heads.

Where was the kitchen again?

A door opened.

Some guards came in from outside. Osiris blinked. He found the door.

The little bubble around them popped when they saw him. It was amusing to see how such a small child could ruin a person's entire mood.

Petty.

The Kitchen.

Like everywhere else, the people from before were gone. This time only a few had a bell. Osiris snagged a roll of bread, a fruit, and a pair of tongs. He slipped them into his front pocket like they had been there all along. Eyes bore into him, but no one said a thing.

Adam was familiar with isolation as a form of abuse. He rubbed his chest. He could not imagine what this would do to someone so young.

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Puddles were growing.

They finally found the library.

Adam tensed.

There were people here too, but scarce.

The air felt grimy, thick. It smelled like sex. Osiris moved past a knight. He was pretty suited up to be in a place like this. As he finished passing the hall he saw a pretty little thing sitting on the floor all dressed in flowy apparel beneath the knights feet.

Oh.

Osiris looked at the signs.

He thanked all the stars that he could read.

He also thanked the stars for letting these people categorize things simply. He found the letter M. He pulled the first book.

“Mana: Women of Wings by Peter Victors.”

He put it back.

Osiris moved a bit to the right and pulled again.

“Mana: Body without Faith by Kinder Spirits.”

He was starting to think pulling them at random was going to take awhile.

“Mana: Tree of Insanity by Marcus Klight. Sounds interesting.”

It was not interesting.

“A toxic connection to mana leads to- yeah okay trauma leads to actual consequences.”

Adam closed the book.

“How shocking.”

He tried more.

Everything talked as if he already understood what mana was. They talked about it like it was a thing, a person. Some praised it, others belittled it. Classism, sexism, racism, you name it, they got it.

Just like back home.

His arm got sore.

Osiris decided to wander around a bit. It was dreary and he was getting sleepy. Who could blame him for being nosy.

Even with knowledge that a child is around the couple really went at it.

Somewhere in the back there was a little hidden enclave with tall, thin stained glass windows.

The gray dimmed the colors.

In the center was a mat and some toys. He was in the kids section. Adam looked around. It was organized by alphabet, with titles easy to digest.

“A lesson on the Five Basic Elements!”

“Basic dreamology: why good dreams matter.”

“Telling your mana to calm down.”

Adam could not find any authors for the books in this quiet spot.

Then he spotted it.

It was a warn, old book. The spine looked a bit faded with cracked ink wording.

Someone had opened that book a lot.

Adam picked it up.

“Mana: A lesson on love.”

Adam did wonder why the image on the cover was so dark compared to the title. A little boy crying streams of orangey red liquid with a face racked in terror.

“Sometimes mana can feel like this big, scary thing.”

The image was of a child crying as a big monster towered over them in the back.

Osiris’s ankles flared hot.

Adam fell to his knees.

Then his eyes melted.

The book clattered to the ground.

“Scary thing huh..”

The moment passed.

Adam slowly got back up. He went and sat in the window. The book felt heavy.

“Sometimes mana can feel like this big, scary thing. It can grow and grow and grow, until sometimes it’s bigger than we can handle!”

Adam sunk into the seat. It was cold.

“But you have forgotten! That mana has chosen you… That mana has chosen you, little one. It is not there to hurt you, or to harm you.”

Adam pulled out a fruit and ate it.

“Sometimes it may feel like that, but it’s not. It’s there to help you. It wants to do what you want to do.”

The rain turned into a sprinkle.

“So think, little one. What relationship do you want with mana?”

Adam closed the book.

The boy began to walk. He moved through the thick wooden isles and eventually made his way back to the main hall.

The smell was gone.

Adam stood before the doors leading outside.

He pushed them open.

A training court. It was a training court. He had yet to find the fucking front doors.

“Tsk.”

Adam glanced around.

It was a circular room that started with greenery and a mosaic tile path that centers around a dirt patch. Rain had muddied the ground and splashed a bit onto the tile.

The center was open to the sky.

Adam felt like he was inside a cage.

The boy decided to place the book behind a small nook by the door, far away from the water and the mud. He even piled a few of his findings over it as a precaution, though he wasn’t sure what good they would actually do.

For some reason Adam removed his shoes.

He could hear a slightest sizzle as his toes touched the cold ground.

He walked back to the pit.

There were puddles, some big, some small. It was quiet. Adam closed his eyes.

“What relationship do I want with mana?”

It started with a whistle.

It was small, barely audible, but a cheery little tune that hung in the air like the smell of a cold cup of tea.

He could almost hear it, the song.

Adam’s whistle turned into a hum.

A foot began to tap. A hand began to drum. The mana in his feet loved it. The flare was hot, wild, it demanded more.

Adam moved.

He chose to start with the slower dances, the ones where you can get up in yourself and in your chest.

His feet ached.

That’s when the first spark happened.

Adam smiled.

He added hops to the dance.

More. Another spark. He widened the strides, deepened the kicks, he began to play.

Adam picked up a rock and began to play happy sack with a small, loose piece of the stone path.

Faster.

His moved and his mana sang. The backs of his heels lit up like fireworks. The bottoms of his feet both bled and melted until he could feel nothing but the rush of mana splashing around in his veins.

With each move his mana sparked, popped, and crackled like he was ringing out a string of black cats. More. He ran hotter, rain soaked through his clothes. Faster.

He felt silly. He laughed. His moves turned his feet into active welding torches and sparks flew.

He felt like a sparkler.

More. He moved more, danced more, he had fun.

He played.

Adam’s laugh was breathless.

He could feel it, the mana. The wrongness he felt in his body seemed to exclaim at his recognition. It loved him. Adam gave more. He could almost feel the song against his ears. The dance was chaotic and violent. He didn’t know a single waltz but he knew moves that made him move. The rain was soaking into his skin. His hair was a sopping mess.

The more Adam gave the stronger he felt.

He could feel it. It was give and take. What he gave they took. And what they took they gave. It was simple, yet the reward felt wonderful. Higher. He could go higher. Adam’s eyes ached. Adam kept giving and giving, more and more, the dance grew and he spun.

Even after the song ended Adam felt alive. He was alive. He was alive. Adam felt his sore veins cry as he slowed to a stop at the center. Adam looked at his hands and gripped them until his skin creaked.

Even now he could feel a difference in the mana he had before to the mana he has now. The difference wasn’t much, but it was something.

There was a way to get stronger.

“But be warned! Though you and your mana may come to love one another deeply, be wary of those that constantly take.”

“Hm. Hm, hm, hmm, hm. Hm, hm-hm, humm hm hm hm hm hmm.”