Novels2Search
The Ballad of Tears
Chapter 10: Deciding (Part 4)

Chapter 10: Deciding (Part 4)

After that, they had never spoken of it again. Ilandi’s parents and their own fear was a topic that was left forgotten. Probably, because there was so little to say in that regard. With all the time that had passed, Ilandi had grown more sure in their perception of their own identity. Ashra had at one point offered them to change a few things, make them appear neither here nor there. But they had declined that offer.

Still, they thought about it whenever they tried to hide their big hands or wanted to find a solution for that fucking beard. It wasn’t as bad anymore as it had been in their puberty. The days when they looked in the mirror and wanted to cry because a stranger looked back were gone.

But maybe they would ask her if that offer still stood.

And the question — the cruel question — had surfaced again.

In a way, it was ridiculous. But they couldn’t help but care about the opportunity of two people who were essentially strangers to them.

So, they had decided to get that potion and find out if they had witnessed anything helpful about their parents’ disappearance.

‘I still don’t get why you can’t ask your grandma’, Tishian said.

Ilandi shrugged. ‘I told you, she won’t say. After they left — as far as I know — nobody talked about them anymore.’

‘That is still strange’, Tishian pointed out.

Ilandi nodded. They sat down on their bed and looked at the vial, still warm.

‘Let’s go over what we know again’, Tishian said.

Ilandi nodded again. They had not been able to find records about the precise effects of the potion but the few people who used it advised that it was important to hone in the own mind on the memory. By collecting facts that could relate to it.

‘She was a blacksmith’, Ilandi said. ‘Father was a supplier. My grandparents weren’t thrilled that he did not try to take over the forge but marrying her appeased them.’'

Even thinking about them made Ilandi feel weird. They knew that, whatever memory they would see, it would not be the exact scene they witnessed as a baby. They had been a little over a year old back then but finding the memory in that way would allow them to interpret it with the knowledge they had, now. Otherwise, this method would be totally useless.

‘Anything else?’, Tishian asked.

Ilandi shrugged. ‘I think it was summer’, they said.

The truth was, that they knew very little. After their parents had left, it had been as if they hadn’t existed. His uncle had stepped in at the forge, and Ilandi had found out their names not through their family but through rumors. Inside the blacksmith home, Ilandi’s parents might as well have never existed.

‘What is it?’, Tishian asked. His mental touch brushed over Ilandi’s mind gently.

‘I’m scared. What if they were criminals? What if they’ve done something terrible?’

‘Would it change anything?’

‘… I don’t know.’

Tishian brushed his head against Ilandi’s forehead and breathed on them. ‘Everything’ll be fine’, he said.

Ilandi smiled and leaned on his companion a bit. ‘Do you think people would care if my parents were criminals?’, they asked.

‘Why should they?’

‘Because I am human, and humans care about stupid things.’

‘I cannot argue that point and you know that.’

Ilandi chuckled. They took off their prosthesis and placed it on the nightstand after opening the vial.

The potion smelled bad, and they were grateful that they only had to drink a bit of it. Miram had told them how exactly the potion worked but the technicalities were lost on them. They had understood that the potion would alter their brain chemistry for a limited time, and that was really all they needed to know.

They sniffed and made a face. Most potions smelled bad. The range was always from weird to outright disgusting both in smell and taste, and it increased with danger. Poisons were, of course, a different topic. With potions, it was all about addiction prevention. The more tempting the effects of a potion were, the worse smell and taste got. The exception were of course really expansive potions because the price was a hindrance on its own.

Ilandi sighed and took a deep gulp of the potion. It tasted not as bad as it smelled but left their mouth with an oily coating that felt gross.

‘Careful now’, Tishian said.

Ilandi nodded and lay down, quickly. For a minute or two, nothing happened. Then, they could feel their heartbeat first racing and then getting slower and slower. Their eyes went shut without being really heavy but they couldn’t open them.

Ilandi felt Tishian’s mind watching on the threshold, careful and ready to rush to their aid. Then, a blue and green darkness washed them away. They twisted and turned inside their own head, saw the true blackness swirl in that dark ocean and then… nothing.

Only whiteness for a second. Until it started again.

They had hoped the potion would turn their subconsciousness into a city or something. Something visible they could walk through and find the right door or something similar. But there were no perception of room or time, only diffused feelings, sometimes sounds or words or images, flaring in and out.

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For a while, they just floated in the nothingness of their mind, helpless, unable to move.

How did one move inside their own mind? With a jolt, they remembered what the people had written about. Focus, thinking. Their knowledge could be their lifeline, now.

Parents. Home.

They were rewarded by a quick succession of blurred images, faint sounds, foreign words. Until one sound came up that sounded right, and they clung to that, as it took them with it through the deeper parts of the ocean inside their head.

For an eternity, it was perfectly dark. They lost all sense of color or light, only clung to that string of memory. Until it began to shimmer around them.

Walls made from light wood, a closed door. A bedframe they didn’t know, a chest they recognized. This was their room. But that table was new. Or … old. They couldn’t remember such a table in their own room. And they couldn’t remember seeing the two people sitting at it, either.

A woman with broad shoulders and muscular arms, clad in a smith’s apron that was torched from the fire here and there. Her blond hair was cut short and on the side of the neck was a tattoo. A tattoo? Ilandi gasped. They stretched their hand out to run it over the painted wing that was visible on her neck. Their fingers did not reach her skin, they reached into a warm mist, instead.

They gasped and pulled back their hand.

Facing their mother — and them — sat a man. He was slimmer and smaller than the woman, his long hair hung both dark and gray in his face, and a hand was playing with one of the strands. He looked tired, his skin was burned. And yet, Ilandi saw that they shared a nose. And the lips. Not the eyes, though. Their father had green-brown eyes, while their own eyes had the color of ember.

They wanted to go around the table to find out if they had their mother’s eyes but to their surprise, they couldn’t. It was like a barrier they could not cross.

Ilandi stayed where they were, confused and a little sad.

“I will go with you”, their mother said. A reaction to something Ilandi had not heard. Maybe they had been asleep up until now.

Their father shook his head. “You are needed here.”

“This does not sound like a long journey, Weland.”

“We have to get to the mountains, and…”

“And we won’t be alone.” She placed one hand on her husband’s arm. “Half a year, a year maybe. We can take him with us.” She gestured to the corner where Ilandi had opened their eyes.

‘Him’. In their chest was a weird sensation. They were moved more than they had imagined by simply seeing and hearing their parents. And yet, there was so much time between them. They didn’t look much older than they were, now. And they referred to a person who never existed without knowing it.

“It’s not about the child”, Weland said. “Ilandi should stay here. And you, too. The family needs you.”

“And who will protect you?”, she asked, her voice stronger now.

He shrugged. “Agnesa perhaps.”

Their mother crossed her arms in front of her chest. “No”, she said. “You can’t trust her, she’s a sellsword.”

“How can you trust her to look after our child but not to protect me?”

“I trust her as a mother!”

“You don’t make any sense, woman!” Weland took a deep breath. “Please, we need these connections. We can’t mess this up.”

“I know. And that is why I should accompany you.”

He held up his hands. “You are a smith, Ichel. How helpful will you be when we are attacked?”

“Just a smith? I am a better fighter than you are, Weland.”

“And I am the faster runner.”

Whatever Ichel wanted to say, it was droned out by the wails of a baby. Ilandi jerked and then quickly remembered that that sound was coming from them. Their younger self, anyway.

“Great”, Ichel murmured but Weland had already gotten up.

Ilandi had the weirdest sensation as they saw their father holding the bundle that was themselves. He pressed their baby body close to his chest and began to rock them slowly. “Shh”, their father made.

Ilandi felt their father’s hands on their tiny back, smelled him. Father had smelled like sand and leather. His hair had tickled in the nose. His voice hummed in their chest and the rocking made their eyes heavy again. The room around Ilandi went dark again, warm, gentle, safe darkness intruded, and they floated in it, for a while.

Even after the memory had gone, and their brain had returned to normal, they laid still for a while without opening their eyes. Tears ran down their cheeks, and into their ears and hair. They still felt their father’s touch, the love in his voice. And they wanted to treasure that feeling, those careful arms wrapped around their tiny body. Back then.

Tishian didn’t speak as long as Ilandi didn’t move. They still felt his mind close to their own, sharing their pain and happiness.

Finally, Ilandi wiped away their tears and sat up, their back leaned against the wall.

‘That… was not very helpful’, they admitted.

Tishian snorted. ‘Maybe we should ask Agnesa’, he said.

‘Nobody knows where she is.’

‘People don’t vanish. Ask Kirdain, he’d know.’

Ilandi shook their head. ‘Kirdain is likely to be the last person on the continent to know where his mother is. Besides… he shouldn’t know that we are dragging his mother into this.’

‘Why not?’

Ilandi shook their head. ‘We are following the footsteps of people who didn’t come home to their family. Their child. Whatever happened… I think it might be dangerous.’

Tishian neighed softly, and Ilandi patted his coat.

They both knew, that Ilandi was right. They were doing this. There was no need to discuss that.