Chapter 5: Intangible

“Got a…tightness in your chest?”

The black haired and black-eyed child flinched, and seeing the boy’s reaction, the tilapia knew he had struck accurately.

“Hehe.”

It continued to mouth off as if flaunting his wisdom, “Like a…shoe in your rock?”

“Uh, wrong choice of words…” He caught himself.

“Like a pebble in your boot?”

“A stuffed nose.”

“Like cars in traff—”

“Ahem. The point is…you’re feelin’ jammed— clogged, even.”

“And that’s because you haven’t consolidated it yet.”

“Consolidate…what?”

“Ion’ kno, kid. Think about it and figure it out yourself.”

“Now get yer hands of me sonny.” The fish wriggled itself out of the boy’s hands.

“It's time for ma’ sunbathin’!” He declared audibly, his voice no longer a whisper, as the hush spell evidently lifted on his command.

“Gonna get all the ladies with this sick fockin tan.”

“Don’t disturb me, kay?”

With that, the fish floundered over to an empty spot on the small vessel, and fell silent.

‘Sunbathing?’ The boy looked up, seeing the same vast sea of clouds obscuring the sun.

He opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but inevitably closed it.

Although the talking fish was odd and annoying…maybe…it did have a point sometimes.

At least, the boy agreed on one thing he said. His problems were his own, and he was the best, and only person for the job. How could anyone other than him know his experiences better? Especially with all the bizarre, and supernatural things he had gone through.

With that, the boy found his own empty spot on the now crowded ship, and started to reflect.

He leaned on the edge of the wooden boat, looking at his glowing reflection within the subtly stirring waters. The more he stared at his own faint luminescence in the water-mirror, the more he felt himself lulled into somewhere…deeper.

Clouds of fog collided with his pondering figure, and yet his mind had turned inward. At that moment, the wind blew subtly, and the obscuring fog seemed to momentarily relent.

If he looked at the whole puzzle he would easily get confused, but if he looked at each individual piece and how they fit with each other…

He started to highlight the key points of their previous conversation. That talking, spellcasting fish, described outright the tightness in his chest, the way he felt clogged, and how he needed to consolidate something.

First off…

Tight. It was one way to describe the feeling in his chest…but there were others. It was…a tension, a strain, a pressure. Those were all very tangible, physical sensations, and yet they could also describe what was intangible— thoughts and feelings.

Now that he thought about it, the tightness in his chest only appeared after the experiences in that tale.

“Is that it?” He said jovially as if figuring things out.

“Emotions? Thoughts? Feelings?”

“...Is that what I have to consolidate?”

“But…is that really all there was to it?” He said with a tone of doubt and hesitance.

“Noisy! Boisterous! Obnoxious!”

“Didn’t I tell ya not to bother me kid?” A voice spoke from the side.

Not realizing he was speaking out loud, the boy wanted to say, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you!’ or ‘Isn’t this my ship!?’ but arguably, he needed someone to deflect ideas off of anyway. Who better, than a talking fish that knew magic?

“So…help me out?”

“Hmph! Hmph!”

“Next time I see you, you’re givin’ me another rubdown!”

“...Can you not say it like that?” He didn’t know why, but something about it felt wrong.

“The best spa treatment ever! Cucumbers on ma’ eyes!”

“Yeah yeah okay whatever.”

“It's a deeeaaaal.” The fish said with a slick yet rough timbre, saying it slowly as if he was savoring the fact.

“Aight. So what do you want?” He returned to his fast-talking tone.

The boy took a deep breath, before confessing, “I mean…is this really how I’m gonna awaken the skeleton?”

“The tightness in my chest— this congested feeling— its gotta be…from the experiences I had in the tale— from the book.”

“I never said that.” The fish spoke.

“You never not said it.” The boy answered back confidently, to which…the fish’s lips seemed to almost smirk.

“So?”

“If you’ve got your answer, why’re you talkin’ to me?

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Because…it doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Is that really all it takes to— I don’t know, awaken some mysterious divine entity?”

“Huh? He’s just a skelly to me.” The fish replied flatly and uninterested, almost bored.

The boy’s eye twitched in annoyance.

“Yeah, a skeleton, mind you, who speaks in archaic tongues, and carries around an enigmatic book that can pull people’s consciousness into it.”

“Mmm. So?”

“So…?” The boy replied, vexed. The fish’s casual tone was irritating, if not outright unreasonable to him.

“So we’re not using some elaborate magic ritual, or some sacred ceremony, to summon his higher spirit or whatever?”

“All it takes is—

He scoffed before saying, “All it takes is accepting my feelings?”

“How does that make any sense?”

“Mmm…”

“Is that what you think it is, kid?”

“Well, ye—”

“Hmph! Hmph! Hmph!” The tilapia slapped his tail thrice on the wooden deck after every harrumph.

“Young and dumb after all!”

“Simple. Don’t do it if you don’t want to then.”

“Now let me sunbathe in peace! Talk in your head while I’m gracin’ your presence!”

“Wha-–!?”

“Is that how you’re supposed to help!?”

“...That doesn’t count for an extra massage!” The boy shouted exasperatedly.

Unexpectedly, the fish preserved his silence.

“…”

—sigh—

Walking over the small vessel, he fell back to his favorite spot, on the top starboard side of the ship near the bow.

‘...I’ve gotta cook up that tilapia one day…make grilled fish out of him…’

‘Salt! I need salt!’ He grinded his teeth.

Eventually however, his seething fury did fade.

…Sitting at the corner, his eyes wandered, ‘This boat’s pretty crowded now…’

He looked at his motley crew of four scallywags: A child, a talking fish, a standing skeleton, and of course, the floating book.

…He was sure that thing was sentient by the way!

…His head then swung upwards, towards the sea of clouds in the sky.

Hair the color of black fell like a curtain of night, adorning a face that was sure to draw eyes as it matured.

And even with his black irises that seemed to easily swallow all light, there was a faint glimmer from the sea of suffused clouds and scattered white light above.

It was then that a heavy mass of fog rolled through, covering him and everything else in obscuring grey. Briefly the skies were stolen away, and so too was the ship, his crewmates— everything but the hand he placed in front of him, as if reaching towards something unknown.

…What am I doing?

Am I holding it off?

Even if I don’t believe it it’s not like I have a choice do I?

…No, I guess I always do.

‘I’m not just gonna idle around.’

Adjusting his posture, he sat up with his legs crossed, his back straightened, while his heart became more calm and steady.

‘If it works, it works.’

‘And if it doesn’t…’

Visible anxiousness appeared on his face along with doubt, and traces of fear.

‘It has to.’

He closed his eyes utterring, ‘Consolidate…consolidate…consolidate…’

‘That’s like merge, or fuse right?’ His tone, unsure.

He thought back to those experiences he had in the tale— the gigantic fortress, the warfare, the blood and carnage, all the way to the nightmare, and the events that took place in the forest.

‘Am I…doing this right?’

He could easily recollect and even summarize the events that happened, and yet, an inkling in the very back of his mind was whispering to him that he was missing something still.

‘Should I try reimagining those events?’

Eyes closed, his brows furrowed. A series of images and scenes would rise in his head quickly, and yet fall back down just as quick, dissipating into smoke.

Still, he persisted. Recreating those scenes as best as he could no matter how rough, he watched as they happened in the order that he had first experienced them in.

‘Consolidate…’

Absorb.

Visions flipped through his mind in a collage as he thoroughly observed each and every one of them. With his persistence, the shapes and forms of vague figures and objects had become noticeably more solid and lasting, instead of gaseous and ephemeral.

With his reimagining he aimed to remember every sensory detail, and aimed to ingrain all of those details into his mind as best as he could.

And yet still…he felt that something was missing. It felt like he was merely glossing through the pages of a magazine, or worse, memorizing the ingredients for a potion without actually knowing how to use them, much less succeed in brewing the elixir.

Clenching his fists, a familiar impatience and push for excellence appeared on his face. The black-haired boy atop the deck, and Vendus Arituel from the tale, seemed to have become the same person…or maybe they originally were.

And perhaps it was cruel…but both inevitably failed at their first attempt, at something they had no tolerance for at failing.

Hands still clenched, shaking, he let out a frustrated sigh. He could feel what he was doing was not enough, and yet, he didn’t know the way forward.

“Ya don’t believe you can do it kid?” The fish spoke up again, evidently breaking his own silence.

‘Didn’t he say not to bother him?’

“Uhh…I…think I can…” He let out another sigh.

“You…think…you…can?” The fish replied in a mimicking tone.

“Well— mostly! But—”

“Hah. Hahaha!”

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Mostly.”

“Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right.”

“But you can’t be too rigid on the outcome. All it does is make you stiff, when you need to flow.”

The boy paused, both surprised about the content of the fish’s words, and surprised that those very words could actually come from him.

‘It actually sounds somewhat helpful?’

‘...Not like him at all,’

‘And it’s subtle, but…could he have a point?’

Seeing the boy’s face change exactly how he wanted it, the fish knew it was the right time and said, “…Two massages.”

“Hu— Huh?”

“Two massages.” The tilapia emphasized with a greasy, guttural thrum.

“Twenty-five minutes each.”

“Twe– twenty-five!?”

…

Time passed, as a black-haired child could be seen furiously rubbing the slick and slimy feeling off of his hands. All the mystique and magical mystery of the luminous ocean waters seemed to have vanished in that moment.

That damn tilapia actually demanded one on the spot!

And he said he’d save the next one for a rainy day!

What does that even mean!?

What do fish even do when they’re not eating!? Strive for the peak of spells and sorcery?

He sucked in a deep breath, before sighing, ‘It’s cool, it’s fine…’

‘...Ughhh!’ His irritation surged once again.

‘Salt! Salt and pepper! With lime!’

…Eventually he found himself sitting right back down where he was half an hour ago. Staring at the skies, he uttered what he remembered:

Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right. But you can’t be too rigid on the outcome. All it does is make you stiff, when you need to flow.

‘…Have I been too stiff?’

‘Don’t tell me sheer belief will help me do this?’

‘Go with the flow?’

A moment of silence took place before he sighed, ‘Okay, first off, I guess…’

Relax

Eyes closed gently, before being beholden to a vast and endless plane of darkness.

He breathed in and out, slowly and steadily. The pressure off his shoulders, the clouds over his heart, and even the tightness in his chest seemed to subtly lift.

Until of course a stray thought then hit him, ‘This is silly…’

‘...But…I can’t think that way.’

‘Gotta…let go...’

‘Let…go of doubt.’

‘Let…in…’

‘Let in…trust?’

‘...Faith?’

‘No…’

Moments upon moments passed, before slowly, without warning or rational reason, the intellectual and logical part of his mind started to subside, and instead gave way into something mysterious and profound.

Moments passed again though this time his mind was silent too. Instead of thinking how to move forward, he simply seemed to feel himself moving towards his heart’s correct answer.

And finally, he had it.

…Let in certainty of my victory.

Upon his decree an odd feeling filled his being, one that was hard to describe. It was unmistakably the feeling of power, but…outside of the normal definitions man used. All rulers wanted the world in their hands— for it to be in their control— but none were so as great as to feel they were the world itself. In that way, they were truly free.

And along with that odd feeling, a tiny spark, a dim white star seemed to come aflame in the vast and endless darkness of his mind.

The young boy…wasn’t quite sure what to make of the phenomenon.

‘Th— Then…’

Not knowing he was doing it the whole time, in his mind he uttered,

‘Flow’

That dim star then expanded in every direction, filling his mind with pure white light.

There was a silent grandness to it all, as he was not sure why, but he felt as if the white light was covering massive amounts of distances akin to sheer worlds or even galaxies, perhaps even distances so vast they were incomprehensible.

Now instead of darkness, there was now an endless plane of white before his eyes.

Suddenly then, without warning a world of senses exploded from a single point in his mind. His mind and soul seemed to shake. In an instant, color, sound, touch, smell and taste stretched to encompass everything his closed eyes were beholden to.

The black-haired child…then found himself in a familiar experience.

The stench of smoke, blood and burnt corpses stinged his nose.

He could feel the blistering heat of flames.

The sounds and screams of warfare, and all the hues that came with it were smacked right into his face.

The experience he was feeling was as lifelike and genuine as true reality…if not more. For the sight of a strange phenomena left the young boy befuddled, if not outright stunned.

Before him, in a sensory experience like no other, an intense and extreme form of psychic synesthesia took effect, where he heard and saw thoughts flying chaotically like rogue stars, and saw emotions of various vibrant colors painting strange auroras over the material world, that he was currently re-experiencing.