Chapter Seventeen - Trial and Error

“No.”

The word was almost a growl.

“Oh come on, try again, it’s not that hard!”

“No!”

“Just that one line, try it once again and we’ll stop for today.”

“When I said no, I meant no, Lizzy, and you can damn well stop trying to convince me otherwise!” Arette stood up in rage, palms flat on the table.

Liz stared back at her, her gaze troubled but calm, weathering the storm that raged across her. But even if it meant yelling at her best friend, Arette hardly cared about anything but the frustration inside of her.

“Who even needs this idiocy? I don’t see why I should learn something as stupid as this!”

“Arette, you need to be able to read. It’s important. Everyone can read,” Liz spoke to her as if she spoke to a child and it only thew oil to the fire that was Arette.

“Well I can’t!” she threw her arms in the air, completely exasperated. She and Liz had practised this reading thing for over a month now, but she barely managed to distinguish the letters yet.

“Then sit down and let me teach you,” Liz said firmly. In the weeks that had passed, she’d gained a lot of confidence, enough to order Arette around, much to her dismay.

Arette gritted her teeth and sat back down again.

“Now, try this one again,” Liz instructed.

Arette narrowed her eyes and stared at the characters. They looked like pictures to her, tiny, pretty pictures but they didn’t make any more sense than a landscape translated to words.

“In the...darkness,” she began, “This is darkness, right?” She pointed to a small character that looked like an upside down hook. Liz nodded with a bright grin.

“There is...no, am I. A being of the dark. I...now what’s that supposed to be?” Irritated, she looked at the series of characters that left her dumbfounded. She already wanted to give up again.

“It’s devour. I devour those who live in the light.” Liz butted in, tracing the characters with her fingers.

“Huh, that sounds stupid.”

“Arette…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll continue. I devour those who live in the light. And yet...the light blinds I - me. The souls of the…..people I...devoured haunt me.” If she concentrated as hard as she could, the characters made a little more sense. Three circles made ‘people’, two crossed lines made ‘I’ or ‘me’. That much she understood.

“I am caught in a...a circle of regret. Please don’t...no, do remember...me...I, who lives in the darkness.”

At the end she let out a deep breath, a grin of triumph flashing over her face.

“You did it!” Liz cheered, seeming proud of the little she was able of now.

“Finally! But honestly, what’s this supposed to be?” she gestured towards the words she had read just now. It seemed like random babble to her.

“It’s a poem!” Liz protested, “It’s about regret and sadness and hope…” a blush crept on her face.

“Wait, you wrote this?” Arette suddenly realized, guilt welling up when Liz nodded sheepishly.

“I mean, it’s very...uh, pretty,” she hastily added, not sure what else to say, “Very...imaginative?”

Liz laughed at her attempt to find suitable compliments.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to like it. I only scribbled it to help you learn reading.”

“Oh thank you,” she breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t think I like this poetry thing.”

“Pff, I can see that,” Liz laughed and despite the fact that her own work was just pushed aside, mirth sparkled in her eyes. Arette was glad enough about that - it wasn’t as if she'd wanted to offend her work.

Everything that was written in anything but plain words could go to the blazes, if you asked her.

“Why can’t you just teach me something, you know, by telling me? Why do I need to put up with this?”

“Um, because this is meant to teach you how to read?”

“Oh Lizzy,” Arette groaned, really unwilling to continue, “Just tell me about something else, would you?”

Her best friend sighed, but her eyes were narrowing into a glare.

“Arette…”

"No, I don't want to, Lizzy. I'm sick of this," she threw her hands in the air, about to throw a chair or two right after it. Yet, when she saw Liz' despairing expression, she paused in her rage. Liz started one last try.

“Come on, let’s try reading again. That’s more important than bonds anyways. This one is easier than the ones before,” Liz said cautiously and put a thick bound leather book on the table.

Arette groaned, dreading the hundreds of pages that lay in front of her.

“This is about Phara, the adventurer who later founded the Renegade Clans. She wrote down her memoirs back when she was still an Ascendant. She was - well, is - a great fighter, I imagine this will be interesting for you,” Liz tried really hard to appease her.

Sadly enough, it wasn’t working.

Arette couldn’t have cared less whether it was the memoirs of some warrior or the key to world domination, as long as she had to read it, it made sourness rise in her throat.

“Fine,” she grumbled, even though she longed to stand up and walk away. Even if she had to do Nex’ training twice as hard as usual, she would’ve preferred it to this. Fighting, running, pushing her body to its limits was fulfilling, fun even. It made her feel elated, even if every part of her was aching.

But this was frustration, undiluted and harsh. She hated every second of it. If Liz hadn’t grown to be such an important friend to her in the last five weeks, she probably would’ve never put up with it.

Liz grinned happily when she heard her consent and opened up the book.

“I’ll help with anything you don’t know, so just try.”

“You give me no choice, do you?” despite her whining, she bent over she book and tried to begin to read.

“This is a date right?” she asked, pointing to a series of weirdly symmetric signs on the top left corner. At Liz’ nod, her frown grew a little lighter.

Numbers were better than word-signs or letter-signs. They were more structured, at least.

“24th day of the 5th month, 203 - no, 303.870th year,” she said with some confidence, only to deflate when Liz slowly shook her head, grimacing.

“Look again,” she said patiently and Arette sighed, but did as asked.

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“It’s the 9th month, isn’t it?” She always confused 5 and 9, they were too darn similar!

“Yeah,” Liz nodded and even though she tried to, she couldn’t really hide her frustration as Arette had made this mistake at least fifty times by now.

Before she could say anything else though, another voice interrupted them.

“What are you doing here?” Zenon was leaning in the doorway, looking amused.

Arette’s eyes snapped to him as if he was her salvation, eyes brimming with sudden flames.

“Zenon!” she exclaimed, fixating him with such intensity that he shifted on his feet, “Save me.”

A frown crept on his face at what was almost an order.

“What from? Your best friend?” He sounded skeptical enough, but still amused. By now he probably knew enough of Arette’s antics, who was well aware of it.

She’d gotten along well with Zenon in the weeks she’d been there. Once he got over the fact that she knew more about him than she should and she managed to forgive him for trying to kill her, they quickly reverted to the pleasant companionship they’d had before the incident.

He also got along better with Liz now, despite his initial scorn.

“Yes!” she yelled, shooting a fiery gaze at Liz, who was taken aback, “Well, not from her per se. Only from her stupid attempts to teach me how to read. Who even needs that?”

Now, it was Zenon’s turn to sigh.

“Arette, you need to be able to read.”

“Oh not you too! Why don’t you two sit somewhere and do your stupid reading together while I do something actually interesting!” she stood up and half wanted to march out of the room, but decided against it at the last second.

Then, she sighed, turning to Liz again, who was watching her with uncertainty.

“Look, I hate this reading thing. Can’t we continue tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Liz’ relief was tangible, “Tomorrow is fine. As long as you aren’t going to quit.”

Arette mumbled her dissent under her breath, but decided to let it go.

She wasn’t going to quit, she knew that very well. Not when Liz and Zenon were convinced she had to learn. But that didn’t mean she would enjoy it, not at all.

She was about to turn around and leave when Zenon called out her name.

“Arette, wait a moment,” he said and jogged to catch up with her. Liz hurriedly packed her books together and followed as well.

“What’s up?” Arette tilted her head and looked at him curiously. Still, she didn’t stop moving, her feet almost automatically drawing her towards the exit of the building. Staying away from the sun for too long still didn’t sit well with her.

“I...can I speak to you? In private that is?” he asked quietly, shooting a furtive glance at Liz.

Arette’s eyes narrowed.

“Lizzy is my best friend. There’s nothing you can say I wouldn’t tell her,” she said sharply. Even though she considered Zenon a friend by now, Liz still ranked higher on her loyalty scale.

After all, in the last month, they’d almost spent every waking hour together. And she liked Liz, liked the easy way they spent time together and the soft calm that tended to contrast her impulsiveness.

Not just once had Liz stopped her from doing something stupid - and had never faulted her for getting angry when she didn’t immediately comply.

So Zenon would have to deal with Liz if he wanted to deal with her.

Zenon’s eyes hardened and she could feel power in him rising, as if he wanted to suppress her. She could see his flame rearing up in anger and his power spread into his body.

She didn’t hesitate to answer in kind and soon her flame flowed into her veins, the pressure of her power making the air heavy. Zenon’s power was richer in majesty but every advantage he had over her in terms of quantity, she made it up the the fierce ferocity of her fires. 

His glare grew uncertain and within seconds, he retreated his pressure.

“You grew stronger” he frowned but then quickly smoothes his features, “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me”.

Arette reluctantly drew back her own powers. If he wanted a fight, she would give it. In fact, she’d really, gladly give it! But alas, he didn’t seem to share the itch in her limbs.

The three of them reached the gardens while they talked, settling to sit on the edge of a fountain that was near deserted in the evening hours at the moment.

Liz look majorly uncomfortable, so Arette shot her a quick grin, but that didn’t seem to help much.

“So what is it that you want from me that is so important that you’re willing to attack me for it?” she raised an eyebrow, her voice still sharp.

Zenon looked uncomfortable enough, but after her question, his posture grew straight and focused.

“You can see souls, right?” his voice was cautious.

Arette nodded, “Yeah, at least I’ve been told that your flame is equal to your soul, so, yeah.”

“Can you see...feelings, too? Like, emotions?”

Arette frowned, wondering how the steady Zenon she’d known over the last month could be so...cautious. As if he was scared of her answer.

She contemplated a moment before answering.

“Not...exactly. Well, kinda. It’s hard to explain,” she began, fishing for words, “I can’t really differentiate between smaller or weak emotions. I mean, I can’t tell if you’re pissed or annoyed or happy being with me. But I can see those that consume you. An overwhelming anger, intense happiness, love, those are things you can’t keep away from your soul.”

Her eyes narrowed in on Zenon’s flame. Silent and gentle as it was before - and still filled with darker secrets.

“I know you’re in love with someone,” she announced, seeing the deep affection that almost scarred his flame, “I also know you’re hurting. Before, your flame was raging, so I suppose you were angry, then, but I couldn’t exactly read it. It’s complicated.”

She pressed her lips together, unable to find anything more to say. She had always been able to see flames of people, she knew how to interpret them by instinct, but explaining it to someone else was near impossible.

Zenon looked at her with a baffled expression, one of the few times she’d ever really seen him surprised...or anything other than expressionless.

“I didn’t think you could see that much,” he said quietly. Arette could only shrug. He didn’t add anything more.Then, his hand went to his pocket and he pulled out a small, rectangular black thing.

It was too flat to be a box, yet too narrow to be some strange kind of...parchment.

Arette looked at it in interest, eyes growing wide as Zenon pressed a button and suddenly the black surface of the gadget turned white.

“What is this?” she asked, surprised. Liz next to her leaned forwards, also unable to repress her awe.

“This is a communication device,” Zenon explained, pressing the surface and more and more colours appeared, forming into shapes and words, much to Arette’s dismay. “It’s from a different province, quite a bit away. It’s a place with much more advanced technology than ours.”

“You mean, like, electricity?” Arette asked with big eyes. Rize had told her about that, but until now she had yet to see it with her own eyes. Zenon laughed, surprising her again with so much emotion.

“Well, it’s based on electricity, but it’s a lot more advanced than that. But that doesn’t really matter now. What matters is that you can record things with this. Make pictures and record scenes so you can watch them later on.”

“Wow.” Arette and Liz spoke simultaneously, sharing a wondrous look. Neither of them could imagine something like that, but then again, Arette was so used to new things that she wasn’t exactly shocked. More like amazed.

Zenon pushed a few more colourful buttons and suddenly, the black surface of the gadget turned into a scene. Amidst trees and flowers a man and a woman were shown, the man on his knees, the woman bent over him.

“Can you see their souls, in the picture?”Zenon asked, tense.

Arette squinted, moving closer to the gadget. Then, she nodded.

“Yeah, I can see them.” The woman had a soul filled with pure, unadulterated light, like the full moon or brightness of a sunrise. The man next to her was darker, twisted, rough. She couldn’t see any positivity inside of it.

Zenon nodded and pushed another button. Suddenly, the scene on the gadget began to move.

“Would you like to be my companion?” a voice, manly suddenly asks. Arette started, but quickly realized it must be part of the…’recording’.

The woman looked to him, tears in her eyes. Arette looked deeper into her flame, that seemed to be wrapped up in tendrils of shadows.

She nodded, slowly, with a smile on her face.

Then, the scene froze again and Arette looked away from the gadget to Zenon. His face had twisted from neutral into angry. His flame was in tumult again, the scars of the love that were etched into it seemed much more prominent now.

“Is she happy?” he asked, his voice quiet and restrained, “Is she happy with him?”

Arette looked from him back to the scene on the device. The woman’s flame was cheerful, but that wasn’t an emotion but its nature. She couldn’t say whether she was happy at that moment - but she wasn’t happy in principle.

“I’m not sure. I can’t tell whether she’s happy or not - but happiness doesn’t overpower her, I would see that. There’s something else in her flame - darkness. Like something is bothering her, something that is wound tightly around her flame, almost choking her. She has problems, severe ones that have affected even her soul.”

Arette pressed her lips together, but couldn’t find anything more. The flame on the device was hard to analyse, mostly because she couldn’t see it move or flicker in front of her. She could read so much less out of a static print.

When she looked up to Zenon again, his face had grown pale.

“Shit,” he cursed and stood up, kicking with his food against the fountain. The darkness in his flame quelled over, no longer suppressed and hidden as it was before. Arette stared for a moment, surprised by his outburst.

“What is it?” she questioned in curiosity, not really scared of his anger of his darkness. He was still stronger than her - but the distance had lessened with her growing under Nex’ training.

Zenon kicked the fountain again, this time making a dent in the stone base.

Arette stood up and walked closer to him.

“What is it?” she asked again, this time with more insistence.

Zenon’s eyes flashed at her, filled with dark rage.

“She agreed to be his companion! His companion, of all things!” he growled. Now he had long shaken off the somber self he’d been for the time she knew it.

Arette was starting to think this might be his real self.

But with the darkness in his heart and the scars in his flame, even she was able to put the pieces together.

“You love her, don’t you?” she questioned, her voice firm.

Zenon stopped kicking and stood motionless, staring at her. Then, he faltered, the anger replaced by despair, darkness growing tighter in his flame.

“She’s my soul companion.”