I’ve shared correspondence with one of the local professor’s here in Barksight. His field of expertise coincides with mine, but I dare say he’s not the most well-educated himself.

-From Professor Shokolov’s Journal, 20th Entry

The next day, they were sat in a smaller vehicle and were heading further up the mountain. AxEl felt the air thin as they went, and more than a few people giggled nervously near the steep ledges of the road.

“Some of our ancestors came from these very mountains, actually,” Professor Inn explained. He was holding onto one of the grab handles as the van rattled around. A boy yelped looking out the windows, but the Professor just laughed in response.

“You’ll get used to the heights, FicIl,” he added. One of the girls there, AxEl knew her as somewhat of a bookworm, spoke up.

“You mean the Eihkand, professor?” she asked, peering away from her book.

“You’re cultivating Ascension with that, EskA. But I’m sure you already know all about them!” he said, looking around for approval from the group gathered. A silence followed, lowering his spirits and exhibiting a sigh from the old professor.

“Eihk-Huellastar were the founders of Huedo-Lupan. They were a tribal people, who travelled the corners of our country long ago,” The Professor explained.

AxEl listened listlessly, focusing more on the surroundings than the words Professor Inn was speaking.

“They’d avoided doom many times, but alas their luck had run out at that point. The tribe fell apart soon after, only fragments remaining. Those same fragments would be the people that became you and I’s forefathers.”

AxEl saw a cold breath come out of his mouth. “How come they had so much trouble everywhere they went?” he asked the Professor. He just shrugged in response.

“Who can tell. Maybe the mysteries have some weight to them and they really were hunted by their old God. But I believe the Faceless protected them. Don’t focus too much on the ending lest you forget that for several hundred years, they avoided tragedy after tragedy that befell the region. Always leaving just in time. Always hiding before the storm ravaged them,” The professor replied to his question.

AxEl had quieted, but the others waited for him to speak. “Do you believe that, Professor?”

The professor chortled. “Personally? Not very much so, I’m afraid. Though I do have associates that do. Professors Zereketh, Rishog, Shokolov.”

Him?!

“Professor Shokolov actually came in for a few classes I gav-oh, but you’re not in the section I teach, are you?”

“No, sir. Although the name’s familiar,” AxEl replied.

“It’s good to see someone having a healthy interest in anthropology. Now then, we’re getting close, so try to jitter less!” the Professor ended with a laugh.

****

AxEl came out of the showers in the lodge with his hair drenched. Cleaning his dreadlocks was a pain by itself, but it was something that had to be done. The lodge at the time was empty, with him being the only one roaming the halls.

He had on a simple shirt and the same jacket that he wore everywhere. The lounge was on the opposite side from the reception, so AxEl was walking through it to reach there. In the middle of his jaunt, he heard the door to the lodge open and froze up.

Anagen walked through the doors and caught him immediately in her vision. She stepped over, but AxEl could only worry and glance around him to make sure he was alone. He stood frozen until Anagen was right up to him, her small stature demanding. She had two bags in her hand that she let down onto the ground.

“W-what are you doing here?” AxEl asked.

“I’m your Archivist. That means I need to make sure of your safety,” she replied, with a hint of amusement that AxEl didn’t appreciate.

“But this? This is overboard!” he said, trying to keep his voice down.

She simply shrugged in response. “Maybe, but I’ve already booked the room. I might as well make the most of it. If you need anything, it’s room 324,” Anagen answered, then picked up her meager luggage and began hauling it.

AxEl sighed, then took the bags from her arms and started walking in front of her. Least I can do is make sure she’s not spotted outside for too long.

Annoyingly, she followed him outside after he dropped her belongings off in the room. AxEl continued walking around the lodge, trying to get to the lounge and ignore Anagen as best as he could. This is so awkward, he thought to himself, since neither one of them would speak up.

He sat down on one of the couches present in the lounge and sighed, annoyed with having to deal with her. A smell caught on his nose, however, while he was sitting. It smelt of grain and came from behind him, so AxEl whirled around and looked behind the slightly parted curtains separating them from the smoking room.

“And the fellow, antiquated as he is, beguiles me with his days in the war. Thankfully, Jeres facilitated the conversation and we were out of there with the pastries before it became unbearable,” someone spoke from inside the room, their voice loud enough to reach AxEl’s ears, though he couldn’t make out the appearance. Why is he talking like that? He thought.

“Ana, what’s that?” AxEl asked, pointing towards the yellowish hash that the people were chewing on. They broke it off into chunk and threw it back into their mouths, laughing all the while.

“Tonguewisp. It’s not as heavily regulated as the other plants, so you see more of it in open use,” she replied, turning towards the direction AxEl was facing.

“Tonguewisp shouldn’t make you sound that pretentious? It’s just supposed to let you speak someone else’s language.” AxEl replied.

“Not pretentious. I think he must be addicted to it, considering how he’s speaking. Addicts supposedly develop a silver tongue the more they use Tonguewisp,” Anagen said.

“If that’s how Addiction looks, what would Withdrawal be like?” AxEl asked.

“Have you ever given a presentation and not been able to form a coherent sentence? Something akin to that. Your mind can’t form the words in the right order,” Ana answered happily.

“Doesn’t sound pleasant. But not as dangerous as Firewire either,” AxEl said.

“From what we know, the Tonguewisp trade runs out of a mining town. Them having so much product out here, and in such quantities too? Don’t underestimate them, AxEl,” Anagen lectured.

“I’m not afraid of them. I can see whatever they’re going to do with Prophecy.”

Anagen seemed to perk up at the boast, however. She narrowed her eyes and continued. “And what if you see something in the future you can’t stop? You’re still human, AxEl. A single bullet is all it takes for any of us…” she scolded.

“Whatever. I’m going to look for Nook.”

AxEl left the room and wandered through the now filled lodge to find Nook. Annoyingly, when he found the man, he was busy conversing with other people. Tsk, another time, I guess. He tasted some of the pastries offered at the lodge, his heart aching at the price. He told himself that it was something he could afford, but the idea of spending so frivolously still ate at him.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“You, boy,” someone said from afar. AxEl turned to meet the man and found an old fellow with a large white beard and a wrinkled bald head. He pointed towards himself, and the man sighed.

“Yes, you. What are you doing here, kid?” the man asked.

“I’m just sitting?” AxEl replied.

“Timing says its for adults right now,” the man replied. He pulled some hash out of a drawer in front of him and began chewing a bit of it. There were some other men sat around him and he passed around the packed block.

“O-oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving,” AxEl replied nervously. He stood up but the man waved him down.

“Nah, it’s alright. The staff doesn’t come around often, anyway. Come over here,” the man said. AxEl felt alienated by the situation, then cursed himself for his indecisiveness. Come on, man, stop worrying!

He strudded over with as confident a walk as he could muster and stood in front of the old man for a long moment. “Are you…not going to sit down?” the old man asked.

“Yeah, I will,” AxEl replied, then took his place among the group.

“My name’s Baln. What’s yours?” the man asked.

“AxEl.”

“So, tell us, AxEl, where you from?” Baln asked and flung another small chewable of hash into his mouth. His eyes bled into a smoky grey colour.

“Barksight.”

“That far? Must’ve been one great trip your school organized.”

“The mayor paid for it. Said it was something all kids should experience. We’re lucky for that,” AxEl replied. Someone near him chewed into the hash again, releasing the smell of flour.

“You shouldn’t take too much of that,” AxEl said. The man he was looking at flinched and raised an eyebrow.

“Haha, he’s right, you know?” Baln added. The man didn’t look pleased, however, and AxEl wondered if he should leave.

“Stop glaring at him. This is probably the first time the kid’s seen hash,” Baln said in AxEl’s defense. The other man just shrug his head and turned back to conversation with the rest of the group.

“Don’t worry about him. Say, since this is your first time and all, how about you try some?” Baln offered. He held up the trey with the block of hash in it towards AxEl. AxEl’s worries began to heighten, and he wondered if anyone else would see this and report him, but no one did.

The others barely even glanced in his direction as Baln shook the little tray in his hand. “I… I shouldn’t,” AxEl answered.

“Opportunities like this don’t come every day, AxEl. Might as well try it while you’ve got the time.”

A moment passed between them and AxEl wondered to himself. It was just a small piece after all. Translators use it all the time, so what’s the problem? It’s not even illegal in some towns.

He then plucked a piece, just a small one from the man, and put it into his mouth. A bit caught in his throat and he coughed, which triggered a laugh from Baln and his group. But after a few moments AxEl felt the Tonguewisp take effect. Some of the others were talking in a language that AxEl didn’t understand before but could hear perfectly now.

“And then he asked us to move the whole system, as if digging it out was that easy!”

“How does it feel, kid?” Baln asked.

“You’re not speaking Lupanese?” AxEl asked.

“Nope. In fact, I don’t even know it. One of the other guys does and he ate from the same hash,” Baln replied with a chuckle.

“It feels…weird. I know things that I shouldn’t,” AxEl replied.

“That’s not even the best part. Look at this,” Baln said and pulled out a crumpled white flower from his pocket.

“What would you call this?” Baln asked. And the word appeared instantly in AxEl’s mind.

“It’s a… bleacher?” AxEl answered.

“Wrong. This is a snowleaf flower. But you know who used to call it a bleacher? Me and my brother, when we were young,” Baln answered.

“But the hash, it’s supposed to let us understand each other, isn’t it? How do I know what you called them?”

Baln relaxed in his pose and leaned back in his chair. “That’s the wonder of it. It let’s us understand each other, not each other’s languages.”

“Huh…” AxEl wondered as he looked at his hand. There were at least four words for that that came to his mind, and only one of those was in his native Lupanese.

“Now go away, kid. If your chauffeurs see you here, they’ll kill me,” Baln said with a chuckle. AxEl nodded and began to take his leave when Baln spoke up once again.

“And stay in the bathroom for a bit so the Wisp wears off and your eyes don’t glow,” he lectured and waved.

AxEl took his leave of the room through a door that led into one of the hallways. Before entering, he peeked inside, then quickly shuffled past and into the nearest bathroom. Inside, he found the worst person he could.

The short statured Professor Inn may have been thinner and shorter and AxEl, but he had more presence than AxEl could ever muster. AxEl began rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh man, right in my eye?” he began muttering, hoping the other man ignored him. He turned on the tap and began splashing his face with water, keeping sure that his eyes were shielded from Professor Inn’s sight.

Then he stopped once he felt the hand on his shoulder.

“AxEl, I saw you.”

The tap flowed freely and AxEl let his hands drift down to his sides. He dare not meet the Professor’s gaze. The professor turned the tap off, leaving them both in excruciating silence.

“I… They offered it to me. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” AxEl reasoned. He heard a sigh beside him and looked up to meet the Professor’s gaze.

“Wait for those eyes to turn back and let’s take a walk,” the Professor said. AxEl did as instructed, and they both left the bathroom behind. They walked through the hallways of the lodge in silence. AxEl was led past the other students, chauffeurs and staff to an empty room that looked better than his own.

“I don’t have my office here, so this will have to do.”

****

The Professor, by AxEl’s estimate, was treating him rather well. He’d poured him some juice and opened up a pack of biscuits in front of him.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Professor, haha,” AxEl said, trying to lighten the mood. Professor Inn gave him a slight stare.

“Yes, you are,” he answered. He placed the bottle in his hands at a table and sat beside AxEl,

“Now, tell me how you got into that situation in the first place,” Professor Inn asked. AxEl explained and at the end, to his dismay, the entire platter of lemon biscuits was finished.

“You should’ve paid better attention to the rules of the lodge. But I can’t blame you entirely,” Professor Inn said. He rubbed at his temple and continued, “I’m going to have to talk to the staff about those men later, though.”

“So, I’m free to go?” AxEl asked.

“No, no you’re not.”

“But, why?”

Professor Inn looked annoyed at the response but calmed himself. “Because, AxEl, what you did there was still partially your choice. And there’s a chance you might make that choice again.”

AxEl clutched at his glass. “I wouldn’t! It was just one time, I swear.”

“That’s not the point. Magic Bullet addiction is real, and it goes beyond normal drugs. Normal ones interact with you on a purely biological level, so we can understand their effects. Magic Bullets, however, don’t. How many kids do you think would want to be able to jump three times their own height? To be polyglots? That kind of power isn’t just a ‘one time thing’ unless you’ve got the will and control to make it so.”

AxEl held his glass tightly still. He hoped it wouldn’t shatter under his force. “I know…”

Professor Inn clasped his hands together and licked his lips. “AxEl, I… know you’re in a tough situation financially. I don’t want this to affect you academically the further you go, so I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“What about my mother?” AxEl asked. FenEl could never find out about this, no matter how much AxEl wanted. She was the last person he would ever want to hurt, beyond any in the world.

“She won’t know this time, and only this time,” Professor Inn said. AxEl tapped the side of his glass as he sat there, wondering if the Professor would really let him go.

“There’s a story that comes to mind, one I think you might appreciate,” Professor Inn said.

“A story?”

“More of a parable, actually,” the Professor added.

“You’re a history Professor, I thought. Not a mythology one?” AxEl asked.

“One bleeds into the other over time,” the Professor noted.

“Now, this tale consists of a cat that lived near a large river. He and his family lived isolated from the other felines across the river and hunted for their food every day. It was hard work but they always found ways to provide for themselves from the land, barren as it may have been.

He wasn’t content, however. On the other side of the river, they held massive feasts and parties, and fed on such delicious fruit that it made the cat envious. His parents reprimanded him, telling him that he shouldn’t cross the river, lest he regret it.

He didn’t understand and asked them multiple times. But they always gave the same answer. He shouldn’t cross the river, lest he regret it.

This went on until the cat’s parents left him orphaned. He sought to prove them wrong and climbed onto the stones of the bank. He fell into the water multiple times, each time buffeted by the rocks that dotted the waters. But finally, bruised as he was, he made it across to the other side.

He limped to the nearest berry he could find and ate it up. The cat could not stomach it however and spat it back out. What looked to have been delicious from his side, was disgusting and revolting to the senses. When he asked the other cats why they ate it, none of them could answer. They only focused on the fruits around them, ignoring whoever came to them.

The cat realized it’s mistake then and there. The other cats had beckoned him over only to trap him. Only so that he would join in on their misery. So now stuck on the other side, the cat took his limping body towards the river and broached its waters once more. He knew the current better than any of the other cats there and so left without any new wounds.

He tried to call the other felines over, to guide them back towards the river, but none dared. They kept to their side; afraid the current would pull them under. The cat left a sign there for any who travelled to the river, however. The sign read, ‘Do not cross the river, lest ye regret it’.”

Professor Inn finished his tale and took a sip from a bottle of water, while looking at AxEl for an answer.

“Thank you for that, Professor,” AxEl answered. “I should be going now.”

“That you should. Be sure to enjoy yourself, but not too much, alright?” Professor Inn replied with a chuckle. AxEl nodded and closed the doors to the Professor’s house, thinking back to the childish tale more than he would have liked.