Chapter 38
(eenie, meenie, miney)
Jarow found himself surrounded by darkness once again, with only his UI visible as a holographic blue window glowed before his eyes. A message blinked on it, appearing shortly after his conversation with the old men had concluded and the world had faded away.
His heart still felt heavy, and his mind buzzed with revelations about Xinpo being part of his own soul, the true identity of the old men, and his purpose in all of this. While he now knew that Xinpo had withheld his memories from him, he had also played a significant role in Jarow's survival in the Liminal Divide and had served as his confidant and guide throughout his exploration of his new existence. Jarow was grateful to have his memories restored, but sadly, the trust he once had in Xinpo had been shaken.
You are dead…
[error]…
body found…
[error]…
body incompatible…
[error]…
Please wait…
Please wait…
Alternative Found...
Please choose from the following:
[ 1 ] - [Error #62535] (object not found)
[ 2 ] - [Error #40997] (object not found)
[ 3 ] Orc, female
[ 4 ] Dwarf, Male
[ 5 ] - [Error #86502] (object not found)
[ 6 ] - [Error #33129] (object not found)
[ 7 ] - Halfling, female
[ 8 ] - [Error #45515] (object not found)
Jarow stared at the new screen, filled with errors and offering very few options. At first, he struggled to comprehend what it was asking him to choose, but then he recognized the options: these were the soul coins he had collected from his past lives. A feeling of dread settled in his stomach, and he longed to seek the counsel of Xinpo. However, Jarow wasn’t ready to begin that conversation yet; forgiveness didn't come easily, and he still harbored some resentment towards his companion and soul-brother.
The conundrum of emotions he was dealing with was both confusing and frustrating. He found himself irrationally angry at a part of his own soul because it had deceived him, yet it was also an actual part of himself. He felt like he was angry at his hand because it had slapped his face without him telling it to.
Jarow shook his head in an attempt to focus on the present moment. To his surprise, he felt the actual flesh of his body move with the shake. He used his hands to feel along the skin and bones of his original human body, the feel of it easy to discern now with his memories returned. This familiar body seemed as though floating, for he could feel nothing around him or underneath his feet. It was an unusual feeling, a far cry from how this body normally functioned, confined to a wheelchair, where each physical movement caused him discomfort and exhaustion.
His floating body and the memory of its form below his fingers brought his thoughts back to Xinpo, whose presence he could sense even though he couldn’t feel the sword at his waist or in his hand.
Jarow attempted to sigh, but in this ethereal realm, breathing seemed unnecessary and impossible. He felt his shoulders move as though his lungs were expanding, but no air moved, no noise was heard, and the feeling of acceptance that would come from such an action was absent. Nonetheless, he felt the need to move forward; his life would be empty and lonely without Xinpo. So, he mentally reached out to the errant fragment of his soul.
"Hey Xinpo, do you happen to know where we are or what's going on?"
"No, suzerain," Xinpo responded meekly, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "My attachment to reality has been severed, and I am incapable of sensing anything in this state. But from the message before you, I believe that you are being given the choice to use one of the soul coins you collected before returning to the reality of the universe."
That made a certain sense to Jarow, since the last thing he remembered was being held within Frank’s conjured space and being separated from the universe in a way he didn’t totally understand.
Jarow reread the message and could better understand the choice he was being given, even though he still didn’t understand why he was being given this choice. Never before had he been able to choose what form he would take; his acquired bodies always seemed completely random, at least at first. Once he got used to the new bodies and the unique qualities they offered, he had felt as though the bodies given him weren’t as random as he thought, and that each offered something to assist him on that part of his journey.
Now, as he stared at his limited choices, he felt an unusual finality. It was as if this would be the last time he got to occupy another body. He also felt a severe pang of loss. Not for the first time, he wished he had been able to recover more of the soul coins from his previous lives. A larger selection would be reassuring now, if nothing else.
Jarow hung suspended as the message and its choices floated before his eyes, an invisible cursor blinking at the end of the message as if waiting impatiently for his response. He debated his choices, weighing his options while feeling as though frozen in time and space within the expansive darkness surrounding him. He considered his next steps, his mind racing ahead in an attempt to anticipate any of the difficult tasks that Frank had said would be awaiting him.
"I should go with the Orc, right?" Jarow thought to himself. Then he second-guessed himself and remembered his dwarven body. It was tough, and in that form, he could sense many things about the ground beneath his feet, as well as metals and materials. He had often wished for the return of those senses when fighting in the strange underground locations his party had encountered.
"Maybe the dwarf would be better then?" he thought, his original choice in doubt.
He glanced at the third choice: the halfling female. That body wasn't particularly remarkable, even though he had enjoyed living in that form. It lacked any standout characteristics or additional senses or abilities to aid him, unlike his other bodies. It was the only 'normal' body he had occupied. Even the first human body had pushed him forward, its sense of curiosity urging him to explore everything.
"Except that Mediv liked it a lot," Jarow’s lizard brain spoke scandalously in the back of his mind. An errant thought whispered, “Maybe that body was there for just that, to have the encounter with him and to truly ingratiate yourself within the party?”
He quickly relived the memory of being with Mediv, recalling the attraction and subsequent affection for him that led to Jarow's first sexual encounter. A small bout of embarrassment followed as he remembered. With all his memories restored, including his original life as a crippled human boy fond of sports and video games, the thought of being with Mediv from his current perspective was somewhat disturbing, yet deep down, he also cherished those memories.
Jarow attempted to sigh once again, with the same unhelpful results. His original body and mind were mostly heterosexual; his place on the gender spectrum leaned heavily towards male. With his memories back, he felt he would only be attracted to females. However, having experienced life as a female multiple times had shifted his perspective away from strict heterosexuality.
Reflecting on his attraction to females made him realize that he had never actually had the chance to be with one. “Well, that sucks,” he thought to himself, realizing the limited opportunity to fulfill his longing for that experience.
The memory of being with Mediv also triggered another random thought: not only was Jarow straight in his old life, but he was also allergic to cats. The thought brought on an internal chuckle, which brought a small smile to Jarow’s face and eased the tension he was feeling.
His two very different existences, even though the adventurous one was so short, were at complete odds with each other in many ways. Jarow’s mind struggled to reconcile the two sets of experiences, as he now had almost ten different identities stored within him. Even thinking of them as just two separate lives didn't work.
Jarow's head began to throb as he continued to contemplate the vast array of emotions and senses he had accumulated and experienced throughout his dual existences. Each life and body he had inhabited had left its mark, shaping his identity in subtle yet profound ways.
Not only were there the memories to contend with, but also the additional senses and emotions which his past bodies had brought with them. Feelings geared in one direction or another, some enjoyed the underground, others swamps, and his Aasimar form had apparently been most at home in the clouds. While Jarow didn’t have the bodies' past memories interrupting his own, their preferences, senses, and abilities commingled in an immiscible way. Each life being disturbing and difficult to merge with his own human experience.
"Let me help you, suzerain," Xinpo's voice echoed amidst the chaos in Jarow’s mind.
"How?" Jarow asked.
"I can still suppress your memories. I won't withhold them, but I can keep them at bay for now," Xinpo offered, his tone a mix of reassurance and uncertainty.
Jarow was also still wrestling with his new understanding of Xinpo and their connection. He recognized that he was a separate entity, but also a fragment of the whole, so essentially Xinpo was him, but his own self. He also understood that the two pieces of his soul couldn’t integrate, yet would always be connected and dependent because, in essence, they were only one.
There was also the fact that he felt as though he had been betrayed by Xinpo because he had hidden the memories of his humanity from him. Granted he had been basically commanded to do so by the universe itself, but trying to live in such a fractured way, with a part of himself at odds with the rest, caused an internal dissonance which only exacerbated the throbbing headache Jarow was dealing with.
But with no better solution in sight, Jarow agreed and welcomed any relief he could find. Through everything, Jarow still trusted Xinpo; he had to, because they were, in essence, one soul.
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Jarow's internal voice trembled as he made his request to Xinpo. "Can you do it again? Block out the same part that you did last time," he pleaded. "Take away the memories of my human self, the weak, scared boy. I need to be an adventurer again."
In that moment, Jarow realized the significance of Xinpo locking away his past life. Those human memories weren't just burdens; they were chains of societal conditioning, They weighed him down with biases and limitations. Earthly life, with its narrow perspectives and ingrained prejudices, felt stifling compared to the boundless freedom of his new universal existence.
The stark contrast between his human upbringing and the perspectives of his multiple alternate lives hit Jarow hard. He saw how human society boxed people into gender roles, religious dogma, and divisive ideologies, distorting the truth and stifling individuality.
Suppressing his human past wasn't just about forgetting; it was about losing the shackles of societal indoctrination. It opened up a world of possibilities, where he could navigate the cosmos with an unclouded mindset. He had become free from the biases that would have held him back and made him question his circumstance.
Through his adventures, Jarow had found enlightenment, each new life adding depth to his understanding of existence. He had been freed from the fetters of his human past, so that he could progress though his new existence with unfiltered perception, ready to embrace the uniqueness of the universe without prejudice.
The societal biases Jarow experienced on Earth now plagued him again. He knew that if he were burdened with his previous memories upon awakening in the Liminal Divide, he wouldn't have been able to cope with the death, loss, and frequent changes of circumstance and body. Even the sight of his original human body, the one he now wore once again, had nearly driven him to madness. The things he had done to that body would have been unthinkable, like some horror movie if he had still retained his memories of earthly existence.
In a very real way, that had been the first test. Jarow wasn't sure if the test was to see if his mind could deal with his new reality or if it was a test of Xinpo's ability to lock away his memories, but if he hadn't been able to overcome that scenario, he would never have been able to move forward and deal with the craziness associated with his metempsychosis.
"Are you certain, suzerain?" Xinpo asked hesitantly.
Jarow smiled. "Yeah, I am. I get it now. You were doing what you had to for us to survive." Jarow paused for dramatic effect but also to ensure the sincerity of his words was understood. “I forgive you, and thanks for keeping us together."
Jarow still felt slighted, but was glad that Xinpo had done what he had, and was even a little thankful to Frank for making Xinpo do it. Even though it had been difficult to work through, he was now glad his memories were suppressed.
A wave of warmth spread throughout Jarow's body, a feeling of relief and care.
"Thank you, Jarow, and I truly am sorry," Xinpo said quietly, understanding Jarow’s newfound perspective but still feeling the weight of his obfuscation.
Before Jarow could fully process that Xinpo had addressed him by his name instead of ‘suzerain,’ a wave of energy passed through his brain. He could feel the memories of his original life being gathered up and subdued. It was a cooling wave, like a stream of cool water passing through his head. Then, the memories, the stray thoughts of overt masculinity, religion, and all other human toxicity, were gone, locked away.
Jarow could tell that his human-life memories were still accessible, but they no longer muddled together with his new memories in an attempt to combine experiences. He felt a new sense of self, or perhaps more of a renewed sense of self. A freeing wave of clarity overcame his mind, and he felt a calming silence there, finally able to think clearly once more.
He looked over the choices still floating in his vision once again and analyzed them from a new, more logical point of view. "I should go with the dwarf," he thought to himself. "Each of these missions I have been sent on has been underground, and having the dwarven extra senses in those subterranean locations would have been invaluable."
Another more cynical thought came to him then, “Of course, this next part will probably be underwater if I pick the dwarven body.”
He shook the negative thought out of his head and rolled his eyes. He was being pessimistic, but now the possibility of something other than an underground lair seemed more possible. "Would Frank mess with me like that?" he asked himself.
"Yeah, duh!" the mental answer rang through his consciousness resoundingly. So, to be safe, even though the dwarven body was strong and durable, Jarow chose the female Orc. He had really enjoyed that body and knew it was well-rounded and should be up for any situation he came up against.
As soon as he made his decision and mentally picked the female Orc, Jarow felt his body begin to morph and grow. The experience was not painful, even though he could feel his muscles expand, his bones crack and grow, and his teeth elongate into tusks that extended outward past his lips. The incredible transformation was quick and felt vaguely familiar to Jarow as he felt his frail human body change into this incredible physical specimen.
Jarow ran his hands along the new body's curves, remembering once again the feel of the muscles and breasts. But before Jarow could worry about whether this body would come with clothes this time, he felt himself begin to move and suddenly stepped forward, his his feet landing upon the end of a dirt-packed road leading into a familiar-looking village.
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As soon as she hit the ground, Jarow glanced back to see from where she had just emerged and caught a brief glimpse of darkness fading into the scenery like a shadow being dissolved by sunlight.
Jarow next looked down to see her new-again body. She was unsure where it had come from, but a strip of leather encircled her chest where it struggled to contain her ample bosoms. Curious, she bent over to inspect her lower half and discovered a similarly fashioned skirt-like garment at her waist, the leather plain but usable. It had a loop on the side which held her sword. The skirt was shorter than she would have liked, but it did the job of covering her lady parts.
The leather used to make her clothing was far from interesting, a simple, solid brown with minimal texture, yet it appeared clean and moveable. Jarow couldn't help but notice her bare feet as she was bent over. She was uncertain if that was the norm for Orcs, but she remembered Grolluk always wearing boots when they traveled together so doubted it.
Her gaze then shifted towards the village. She found herself at the outskirts of the main street, with a clear view of the Inn where she and her companions had initially gathered. A warm smile spread across her lips, and she sensed her tusks pressing them outward.
It struck Jarow that she had never been able to actually see this body before, at least not in a mirror. However, her body felt comfortingly familiar and strong as it had when she had worn it before, so she eagerly anticipated giving it a proper workout; the muscles practically begged to be used.
She stretched her arms up, grabbing one with the other and pulling it sideways before repeating on the other side. She then extended her legs out, bending at the knee and loosening her muscles there. Once she felt loose, she dashed away. She sprinted the distance to the Inn with ease, a few curious townsfolk raising their eyebrows as she passed, kicking up dust with each footfall.
She skidded to a halt in front of the door to the Inn. The dash hadn't even gotten her blood pumping. "Damn, it's good to be in such a physically fit body!" Jarow thought to herself. Her memories of being a crippled kid still sat in the back of her mind somewhere, like distant memories of the past. This new body was the exact opposite of that body, and Jarow loved it for that very reason.
She pushed the door open and peered inside, hoping to see her party waiting at their usual table. A wide grin spread across her face as she imagined their reaction to her new body.
But the inn was empty. No fire crackled in the hearth, no patrons laughed and chatted, no music played, and no delicious aromas wafted out from the kitchen. No chairs scooted along the wooden planks of the floor, no mugs touched down on tables with a thud, and nothing but dust and cobwebs occupied the once-vibrant tavern.
The place was empty but for a lone man who sat slumped at the bar. He was the proprietor, whom Jarow recognized from her previous visits, but he seemed much older and more worn down. Normally, he would be busy wiping glasses with a somewhat clean towel, but now he sat vacant-eyed at the empty bar, staring into space.
Jarow slowly entered the cold, dark room, her face drooping in disappointment from the obvious disrepair and emptiness. She made her way over to the bar area, where she waved her hand to get the man’s attention, asking, "Gerraldi? Is that you?"
The old man’s eyes twitched at seeing her hand wave before them. His gaze slowly shifted towards her, and he inhaled deeply as though he hadn’t been breathing up until now. Jarow could hear the crackles in his lungs as he took in air before speaking in a rough, cracked voice. "Aye, that's me. Do I know you?"
Jarow knew she wouldn't be recognized in this body, but she at least expected some form of acknowledgement beyond simply asking her name. She wasn’t totally sure how to address such a flat and lifeless question, it almost felt like she was speaking to an undead creature. "Uhhh... kind of. My party and I have stayed here several times, and I was hoping they'd be here now. There was an elf, a very dark-skinned elf-looking lady, a large Orc, and a tiger-looking-man. Ring any bells?"
The man finally turned to look at Jarow fully. His eyes took in her presence, as if finally becoming convinced that she was actually here in this room and not just another hallucination. His eyes widened in surprise as her large, greenish-skinned body registered. He quickly scanned her from head to toe before speaking..
"Are you Jarow?" he asked, his ragged voice tinged with hope.
"Yes," Jarow replied curiously. "But how did you know that?"
"Thank the gods," the man said, exhaling a crackling sigh of relief. "You've finally returned. I have a message for you."
Jarow's attention perked up. She squatted down to meet the old bartender at eye level. "Yes?" she prompted.
"Your party didn't know if or when you'd be back," the man said. "But they had to move on. They paid me a lot of money to make sure I gave you this message. It's been so long." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. A look of relief washed over his face.
The man's face went blank, and his voice changed. He now spoke in the voice of Suhry. "Jarow, we have waited and checked back here for three plus years. We finally had to give up on your return. As a last resort, I am leaving you this message. My and Isilandra's home is on Gilo. Go there, and we'll know it's you. We hope you receive this message eventually." The message stopped, and the proprietor's face drooped down once again, his eyes blinking rapidly for a few seconds before finally refocusing.
"Did, did you get the message?" he shakily asked.
"Yes, thank you," Jarow said, moving to place her hand on the man's shoulder.
Instead of smiling back in relief as Jarow expected, he recoiled, his eyes taking on a frantic look. He swiveled his head, looking around the room wildly until he seemed to notice Jarow once again. When her hand lightly touched his shoulder, he flinched away and fell backward from the stool he was sitting on.
Gerraldi hit the floor hard with a loud thud, and a cloud of dust poofed out from under him. The clatter of the stool falling echoed off of the empty walls, making the sound even louder in the death-like silence of the empty tavern.
"Are you okay?" Jarow asked with honest concern.
"What's going on? Where... I mean, why? Who are you? What's happening?" Gerraldi asked in a panic. He scooted back from Jarow, sliding along the floor and dragging his butt through the thick layer of dust, leaving an obvious trail behind him.
Jarow's hand froze in mid-air, her face filled with puzzlement. She opened her mouth to speak to Gerraldi, but he spoke first, his tone instantly changing from confusion to anger.
"Get out! We're obviously not open, and I don't want any trouble, so just leave."
Gerraldi scrambled around the end of the bar and stayed ducked down, remaining hidden from Jarow's sight.
"That was strange," she mentally said to Xinpo as she stood there, wondering what had just happened.
"Indeed, suzerain," Xinpo replied. "I believe he was charmed in some way, or perhaps, since it was Suhry's voice emanating from his mouth, it was a type of compulsion."
There was still some tension between Jarow and Xinpo, but with Jarow's acceptance and Xinpo’s apology, the rift between them was swiftly starting to mend.
Jarow's heart went out to the old bartender as she turned and headed for the door. She was going to leave as he wanted, but wished she could do something to help him since the spell placed upon him by Suhry had obviously disrupted his life. She wondered whether Suhry and the others had actually left him money, as he said, or if that was part of the spell they had used.
An idea struck her, and she stopped. A black tear in space appeared before her, and she reached inside.
Jarow's inventory was still full of treasure from the Liminal Divide. Most of it wasn't magical, and she didn't need money since she didn't sleep or eat. Her weapons and spells had always been enough for her, although she had never really had the opportunity to go shopping, at least not in a proper city.
She pulled out a jewel-encrusted bangle and set it on the counter. Her inventory closed, and she smiled to herself. “I hope this is a decent amount of payment for your service,” she whispered into the silence before leaving.
"That is very good of you, suzerain," Xinpo said as they left the inn.
Jarow stepped outside and surveyed the small town. Its buildings were now run-down, a far cry from her last visit. The road, once packed soil, was now dusty, and the townsfolk appeared skinny and pale. It was evident that a considerable amount of time had passed since her last visit, and the town had seen better days.
'I wonder what happened here?' she thought to herself.
The scene resembled the ghost towns depicted in old westerns, and she couldn't help but feel a slight pang of regret that the Inn's door wasn’t a swinging half door as seen in the movies. The town exuded a desolate air, as if it had been all but abandoned.
A pit formed in Jarow's stomach. 'How long have I been gone?'
The message had indicated that they had stopped waiting for her after three years, but that seemed too short a time for the town to have deteriorated to such an extent. Jarow speculated that she must have been absent for closer to twenty years.
'What happened? Why have I been gone for so long?'
Xinpo remained silent, but a message appeared in Jarow’s vision, one shaped like a scroll with the lettering burnt into it.
Jarow, I apologize for your delayed return. Time behaves differently in my realm, and it doesn't always flow as it does in yours. The final phase of this quest couldn't be initiated until now. Returning to the time you left would have required you to wait extensively, possibly exhausting more of your lives. While you could have utilized that time for leveling and preparation, those aspects aren't as crucial for concluding this quest.
I understand your desire to reunite with your friends. I've provided Xinpo with the coordinates to Gilo, where they are currently located. You may now portal there to see them before continuing. The final segment of this quest is something you must undertake alone, but remember, you're doing this not just for yourself, but for them as well.
Frank