Say one thing about the Realmbreaker, say he’ll do about everything to hold up the sky for me while he crumbles away on the inside.
What the damn fool didn’t see was that I’d do the same for him. I’d do the same, and more…
-Agnesia the Ashen Dawn
II-8
Failures (II)
As Agnesia collapsed under her grief, Wei’s mind stalled with indecision.
He wasn’t sure what to do, nor did he have any experience buffeting another’s flagging spirits. He wasn’t even sure if it was something he said or did that caused this final collapse in her. But as she wept, he felt helpless, feeble, and embarrassed.
What kind of patriarch could just stand around and do some—nothing in this moment?
“What kind of patriarch indeed?” his Shell said with scorn. “Say something, you fool.”
"I, uh, uh—" Wei sputtered.
He sputtered like a fish burgling the last bits of water from its gills, exposed to air for the first time.
"Master Bishop is a fool. I would never take advantage—”
“Not about that," his Shell interrupted. “She’s not crying about that, you stupid creature."
You are not helping, Wei said, thinking internally as he growled at his new Skill. If you are so wise, then why don’t you offer a proper suggestion?
"Very well. It always falls to me in the end anyway, considering your lacking prowess."
One thing was increasingly certain: Wei’s idealized spirit was really quite the bastard.
"Materialize me. Only a part, though. My helmet."
Your helmet?
"The Helm of Invasive Sight," his Shell snapped. "It allows me to access her perspective, glean what we might need to heal her spirits."
Wei hesitated briefly, but did as the shell recommended. A sudden burst of monochromatic light encapsulated his head. And suddenly, a gleaming orb overlapped his vision, and the world became clearer, as if he could now gaze beyond a thin veil that wasn't there before.
Agnesia’s perception expanded from her like a bubble, while her vision cast a beam forth, pointed downwards, as she held herself, trying to stop from shaking. The invasive sight projected by Wei’s helmet crashed into her perception, and slowly his awareness leaked into hers. From her eyes, the world was blurred, and she was shaking, shivering, still trying to hold herself together as she shuddered beneath the weight of all her mental strain.
The weight—Wei knew that weight. He felt that when he saw his mother’s head beheaded for the first time, the blood, his father—he knew the weight…he knew the weight…he knew the weight….
Resisting trauma via Aspect of (Ambition)
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, Wei chanted internally.
"Pathetic," his Shell grumbled, and Wei severed the connection. Reeling back, he stumbled against the wall and let out a gasp. That feeling was— His thoughts were muddled. He was already weary. Now he found just how like her trauma was to his.
No, no, her pain. He didn’t have trauma. He wasn’t traumatized. He was not wounded. He was stronger. He was stronger than anything the hells could inflict on him. He was fine.
He was fine. He was fine.
"Stop repeating words and help her," his shell said. "If you cannot find an idea, then I have another suggestion. We target it."
Target it? Wei thought.
"Yes. Use your Ambition. Isolate her sadness. And then we cut it out."
The concept.
Wei froze at that. "We cut the concept." He recalled severing the ichor that held Ellena to the Dying Queen. Yes, perhaps this could work.
Manifesting another portion of his shell consumed even more source. In scant seconds, he was already down 50 Source Lumens. An incredible amount, considering how little he had to begin with. The shell must be formidable in combat for it to be such a resource hog. He couldn’t imagine using more than a few Components in tandem for longer than 15 seconds at its current rate of consumption. He needed to test how fast his chassis could regenerate Source—
"Think about that later, when we’re killing things. Right now—help her."
A scythe materialized within Wei’s hands. And he used a tendril of sewers to isolate the feeling in her mind. As it brushed into her person and knotted at the core of her skull, Agnesia blinked and suddenly stumbled back in shock as she stared at Wei who slowly advanced on her with his harvesting blade.
"Hey, Wei, what are you doing?" she muttered, her breath still coming hitched. Her eyes were wide but still bloodshot with tears.
"I—" Wei said, suddenly realizing how ugly the scene looked. This was more like an attempted murder than emotional support. But, however, it might be the best thing he could do. "I’m going to attack the concept of your sadness." He held up his scythe and shrugged. "It shouldn"t be that hard."
Agnesia just stared at him for a second, and then, impossibly, a snort of disbelieving laughter gushed out from her. "You are an utter fool, Wei."
"An utter fool," Wei repeated. His empathy vanished before a rising tide of offense., was replaced by a fence. "I’m here trying to help you, and you call me a fool?”
Her laughter and tears mingled until they were one and the same. She stared upon Wei as she shook her head. "You didn’t need to do that. I just… No, don’t, don’t," she said. "I’d rather feel this way than nothing at all. I… I deserve this. I deserve this. I’m a terrible daughter.”
"How?" Wei said, blinking. It seemed that they were more similar at heart than he anticipated.
She looked at the insides of his room and gave a shrug. "Can we head in?"
"Yes," he said, leading her in. "Anywhere you want. Whatever you wish. We can sit anywhere and speak if that is your will."
"’Of course, if that’s what you want,’" his shell muttered. "You repeat yourself with every sentence."
I am trying my best right now, Wei said mentally.
"Yes, and look at how we are. Failure after failure."
Instead of rising to the second floor and using his bed, she decided to take a seat at the steps and stared out at the small, tranquil garden that took up half the first floor. Water continued flowing, the sound a meditative pitter-patter that soothed one’s spirits. For another moment of silence began between them, and as Wei sat next to her, he frowned, noticing just how much larger she was than him. Not only taller, she seemed more muscular as well. Her biceps were staggering pronounced. A ridge of muscle had become her shoulders and neck. What was even happening.
"Emasculation." His Shell scoffed. “That is what is happening.”
Shut up, Wei muttered internally.
Agnesia rubbed at her face and sniffled. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just collapse like that in front of you. I’m very ashamed. This is unbecoming behavior for a…” She snorted. “Not a lady anymore. Least that’s something. Always wanted to be free, and now I am. Now I am.”
"It"s all right," Wei said. "I understand." He bit down on his jaw to stop his own trembling. "I do. I have faced the same pain. I have fought it. I know how you feel." And he didn’t know what words to say next. He only opened his hands as a faint gesture of understanding. "We are the sum of our achievements and failures, I suppose. But if it means anything, I am here with you right now."
A faint smile spread across her face, and Wei knew his words went right. At least this time.
"Finally," his Shell said, a voice barely a derisive whisper.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Hugging her knees close to her chest, Agnesia let out a sigh. "I haven’t thanked you properly for killing that Kindred bastard."
"Reunion," Wei said, remembering the vampire’s name. Heavens, had that been merely hours ago? It felt like another life. The amount of things happening to him these days—they were overwhelming.
"No," his Shell groaned, declaring with full force, "not overwhelming. This cannot overwhelm you."
Wei’s resolve hardened as he nodded. "Yes, it is no deed worth mentioning. He has harmed you. He stands with the Dying Queen, and she is our enemy. Both of our enemies," he said, his glare resolute.
He remembered what the Queen did to him, how she tried to twist him, how she used the trauma of his mother to hurt him. That would not go forgiven—not in this life, not in all the ones to follow.
"I never told you about my life before, about Dawnrest and everything that happened, did I?" she said.
"You told me enough," Wei said. "I know enough that you can understand what you’ve suffered, what you faced, the choices you had to make." He nodded.
She stared down at the ground, looking at her feet. She clicked her slippers together, and a pained expression came over her face. "Creator’s Light, I was just weak at the end. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t even see my mother get taken by…. I couldn’t do anything."
"I didn"t either," Wei said. "This is not your failure alone; it is one shared by both of us."
"But you actually broke him," she said, her voice cracking. "You won. You slew the bastard. I was just there, swinging, striking him ineffectually. My punches did nothing. My fires couldn"t even burn his flesh." And grief gave way to anger as the surrounding air simmered and her eyes blackened with hissing fire. "I was just worthless in the end—worthless."
"She is too hard on herself," his Shell said. Wei did a mental double-take.
What?
“You cannot expect that much from her. She has done all that she could. You, on the other hand, are pathetic, worthless. If you were more, then she would not be in this state.”
Wei blinked. The Shell spoke truth. He was patriarch. She was his responsibility. He should have never risked her or the others against such a foe.
From then to after, Agnesia started talking in random statements, recounting the days that were past. She told him about her kingdom, Dawnrest, a wealthy seafaring empire that rested upon the sea and was blessed by the gaze of Ingium, their sun, the heart of the dragon god that once was.
It was said that her family was dragon-blooded, inheritors of the ancient legacy and bearers of the highest flame. She, along with her brothers and father, controlled this primordial power, while her mother was merely a remarkable individual who married into her family.
For ten generations they ruled Dawnrestrest, for ten generations the empire expanded. Then, because the Crossroads decided to expanded their own trade network, a portal opened, and a new gateway allowed the Dying Queen’s forces entry from the frigid north of her world. The kindred spilled forth, and the land itself grew infested with the dying queen’s ichor. Soon, nations crumbled, and Dawnrest turned to face the threat.
“An onslaught of monsters, beasts, and carrion soon swept the lands, twisting all that there was, forcing my father and my two older brothers to ride off into battle. A battle they would surely win.” Agnesia paused, her gaze someplace distant. “After all, they were the blessed of Ignium’s children, the bearers of the holy flame, the scions of dragons. Except… not.” She paused. “The ones who returned were the kindred, with my father’s head on a pike, and my two brothers twisted beyond recognition.”
She recounted this, her voice hollow of any emotion. It was like an open wound that healed wrong—the skin and flesh missing. Just emptiness there. Emptiness.
“And after that… my life was different altogether.” Agnesia finished.
Wei stared on, looking at the greenery in his garden, as silence followed once more. It was not a comfortable one. Misery stained the beat.
“They were going to turn me too… my mother, everyone. They started with my younger brothers. It was my fault.” Agnesia choked. “Because I tried to escape first. I tried to flee. They caught me the first time. I was so scared. I thought they were going to torture me, but instead… they turned them first, my younger brothers. I hurt them first.”
She held herself tighter and tighter until she was almost a ball on the steps.
Wei hesitated a moment before he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It was not your fault. You tried, you…”
The proper word was failed, but how could he blame her? She was a princess, not a martial daughter of a sect or a cult, but something more akin to a rich merchant’s young lady.
“It was my fault,” she said. “I should have thought longer, I…” She let out a laugh. “You know, when I finally managed to escape, it was because of another invasion. The demonic ones, the ones that happen annually every year. That was our window. I should have thought more carefully. I should have thought clearer.”
She waved her hands each time, as if trying to grasp a past that wasn’t there anymore. “Every year, we would have to fight away some minor demonic incursions. And just the same, it was in the year that my kingdom was…”
She didn’t finish her words. “That was our opportunity. That was our opportunity all along. The invasion happened, and the kindred were unprepared. But I knew, I knew. And so that night, when they were halfway through turning my mother, I broke free again. I found my opening. I escaped in that chaos and fled toward the rift. Toward where the demons were coming forth as the kindred and those monsters battled each other.”
“I abandoned my home but then my younger brothers—the twins—they saw me and they… I burned my two brothers, my younger brothers. And I escaped into the embrace of damnation, into hell. And so I stumbled. And so I found myself in that place, that Anchor City, as the black tower descended.”
There was something about the story that was too convenient. Wei suspected that Mepheleon might have had a hand in this as well…
She let in a rasping breath. “You know the strange thing? The painful thing is… my mother… I always loved her, but it was duty first. Always duty with her. Responsibility, drills. I just… I never really understood her,” she said. “And now… I failed her again.”
“All my life, she was a serious one, while my father—” she rolled her eyes, “My father, I loved him dearly, but he was an old fool with his own problems.”
“‘Agnesia, you are not to be wearing trousers. What are you–Is that my brooch?’” She laughed. “‘Agnesia, that boy’s beneath your station. You are a Princess of Dawnrest. You cannot be wasting your time with commoners.’ ‘Agnesia, are you riding a horse? Is that my sword? Are you using my arming sword? You’ve gone mad, girl. Have you forgotten your place?’”
She rolled her eyes. “She would get so mad at the silliest things. There were always rules, rules, rules. ‘You must do this. You must do that. You cannot do this. A lady is expected for that.’ And all the time I just rebelled and roiled against them. He would get so mad. He would send me to stay up the tower, sealing me with tutors and...
“And the next day he would feel bad. He would take me out. He would sneak me on a ride. Atop the back of a stallion, he would show me the Gold-Tongue Cliffs where he asked my mother to wed him. My brothers, too. They would let me watch them duel. They would hand me swords and frolic and play and all that… all that is no more.
“My mother, she was dutiful. She was smart. But she was never there in that sense. She never truly put a hand over her heart.” Her voice softened. “I wish I knew how to connect with her better. I wish I knew. And now she’s gone, and I cannot.”
“She’s not gone,” Wei said. “The Harbinger can mend her.”
“He might mend her,” Agnesia said. “But what will become of her afterward? What becomes of her now? Will she even be herself?” She stared on, looking at the ceiling before releasing another mournful sigh. “I was a terrible daughter.”
To this, Wei found a place of accord. “And I was a worthless son.”
She turned to him, faced him. “Wei…”
“My mother… she deserved better,” Wei managed. “She was stern, she was focused, she was the matriarch of my sect. No one more disciplined, no one greater of will or desire. And though I tried all my life, I was lacking, deficient.”
He spat the final words, angry at himself. More than ever before. He thought of all the time he wasted—those days he spent running along the pond, humiliating the outer court disciples, reading false novels, and sneaking out to see the nearby villages and cities. All that time he could have spent improving, honing himself. He could have been more aware of what his father was doing. He could have strengthened his sect.
A rational part of his being asked, And to do what? What could have made him strong enough to stop the invasion of hell? How could he have stood against his father’s power?
But the Shell had another answer. “You could have gone beyond. You were a cultivator. Pain is not an excuse. Weakness is only failure. The heavens are cold. Nothing is owed. You must take power. This you know.”
Wei let out a nodding sigh. “What you did for your mother…” he said. “It is an act of true piety. If I could do what you did for your mother, I wish I could provide her with that. I wish I could have fought for her. But I failed her. I failed her. And I will never have the chance to make it right.”
“You still do,” he said. “We still do. But we have a second chance, and they don’t come easy. And your mother knows. Perhaps you are not close like you said to your father or brothers, but she knows.”
“For a time I thought my mother didn’t care. But when I was ten, it was a plague that swept my sect. A plague that killed so many.”
“I caught it,” he said, remembering those feverish days. “It was all a haze. Hallucinations and visions of what actually happened blended together. Thousands of herbalists, healers, spirit cultivators, and exorcists greeted him. And through it all was my mother, screaming, more haggard and unbalanced than she ever seemed.
“For most of my childhood, her face was that of a stone. And her eyes betrayed her true feelings in sharp instances of displeasure or satisfaction. I thought nothing I could do was enough. But in that time, she scoured the world, finding anyone to save her dear boy.”
“And when my fever finally broke, I heard her. I heard her sobbing for the first time in my life, her head laid against my chest. Faint prayers directed at gods she didn’t believe and ancestors she no longer knew. Offering anything just for me to breathe, just to be well, just for her dear boy to live.”
He never questioned how much she cared after that, and now he could never thank her. And now he could never make anything right.
A thumb brushed the underside of Wei’s cheek. He blinked. Why was Agnesia touching his face? Her own expression was contorted in concern. He grabbed her hand. Were those wet spots trailing his face? Was he crying? No. No!
Wei reeled back in horror. He practically clawed the wetness from his face. This was—
His Shell exploded in outrage. “Wei, you worthless fool, you were supposed to encourage her, not weep like a mongrel dog before her.”
“I—I—” Wei managed.
“It’s okay,” Agnesia said. “It’s all right.”
Wei flinched and pulled away. “It’s nothing. My eyes are tired. I am fine. I am well” She grew closer and he snarled. “I am well, you don’t need to… to…”
She didn’t flinch, not like most other people. She simply stared at him for a moment, then rested a hand on his arm. They both sat there, rigid, in silence, like two wounded soldiers bleeding out on a battlefield together.
“I hate being weak,” she finally said. “I hate being prey. I hate being hurt.” There was a snarl at the end of her words. “I hate this place. I hate the world for what it’s done to me, for what it’s taken from me.”
And once more, their spirits were in alignment. Wei slowly turned to her. “I hate them for the same.”
Their gazes met, and a mutual resolution was born. “Should we take back from the heavens,” Wei whispered. “Should we bleed the fates as they have bled us? Should we steal from the stars fire and life from our abusers?”
A grim smile flashed across Agnesia’s face as she nodded. “Why not. Why shouldn’t we be the fire instead of the kindling? Why shouldn’t we show everyone what it means to burn?”