Miko:

My body ached. Every part of my skin, every bone, every muscle, and tendon spiked in flashes of pain. I knew it wasn’t possible, but as I sat there in my shell of a body, I could almost feel the blood moving throughout. My sense of touch was not weakened; if anything, it was strengthened by the lack of movement. With nothing to distract my mind, every part of the ground touching me offered a different temperature and texture that I could individually track. Nomen, or Khronos, left me with much to think about it. Although, I had made my decision already. Even if no one could help me get there, I’ll climb that tree and heal Maleki no matter what it takes. I’ll take all the consequences of whatever happens, but no tale or story will stop me from doing the right thing.

I just have to figure out how to move, damn it. I have to. Khronos left me against the tree, with my only view being Maleki. Was that on purpose? My brother lay so still, his breaths continuously so shallow that I had to convince myself he was indeed alive. What do I have to do? I know what I will do next; I’ll climb that forsaken tree no matter what it takes. For now, I must find a way to regain some movement in my body.

The Aerth and Agni trial wore down whatever was left of me mentally and physically, but looking back on it, I can’t imagine what it did to Maleki. He basically had to go through three of the trials alone, without my involvement. I’m lucky to be awake right now. Maleki and I had differing challenges throughout the trial, but he was always better at the more physically demanding things, and I was better at analyzing info and figuring things out. Three months I slumbered when I could have sped up the journey. Instead, I was deadweight. Maleki might be okay right now if he didn’t use everything to get me here. I have to stop thinking like that; it won’t help me here.

However, something had bothered me since before we took that first step up the mountain. Why would the sick be tasked to travel here? This journey is difficult enough for a person in peak physical health. Intelligence can save you some time which does limit the effort needed compared to taking the straight and narrow path. The riddle didn’t call for a healthy or sick person directly, yet a cure and pain were mentioned. What does The Garden get out of this? Why does it need a person? I’m not sure what happened in the last trial, but the first four each represented the elements, and the next was the unnatural element of life, so it is safe to presume the last was end. The Garden is looking for someone who is strong of mind and will but not necessarily physically strong. Although, even a sick person who is extremely intelligent still has to be physically capable, so maybe two people are needed. Perhaps the bond or connection of two people would be required to complete whatever is being called for. That fills the gaps between what Maleki is and what I am in this scenario. If Maleki was strong enough in body and will, then I must be — wait, what if my mind was causing all of this in the first place? When my mind started to falter, and we entered into the outer rims of The Garden’s reach, I was weakened even further, and every further progression of the illness forced me to solidify my own fate before it arrived. If it is in my mind, it can be undone; I’ll just have to figure it out. Not like I have anything better to do anyways….

With that understanding, I spent the entire remaining sunlight focusing on my fingertips. Hours of intent purely on isolated feeling in one of my fingers. The top of my hands lay flat against the ground as I sit slumped against the tree. The green grass and clovers were soft to the touch and gave me a feeling to latch onto. Sleep found me unknowingly at some point and gave me a chance to wake up with a newfound goal and renewed inner strength. My spine ached from not laying flat, but I had to ignore every other sensation or pain in my body in order to accomplish my current goal — reclaiming movement — limb by limb.

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I saw the sun rise nineteen times, and on the twentieth day, I awoke to a twitch in my index finger — twenty days of concentration, twenty moons of sleep. I was very close to giving up before that happened. Thankfully, I do not grow hungry or tired; even sleep is unnecessary, but I gain comfort from the cycle when my body permits it. There are no distractions beyond the beauty of this place. From this angle, with the shade of the tree, I cannot even glimpse at the moons.

A twitch in my finger means it is possible to regain movement. I can work with that. No matter how long it takes to recover it all, I’ll keep moving forward. I could only move my finger from the joint in my hand and above. I kept focusing on the other fingers now, trying to repeat what had worked before. Another two suns and I could move my other index finger. I kept my focus daily for as long as possible on my fingers until each of them could be moved. I had now been at this a whole month and could show for it movement above both my wrists. I had to keep going — keep pushing for more. Limited movement in my forearms was necessary to move my wrists, and I quickly regained access to my entire left arm and somewhat of my right.

I wasn’t plateauing, but a month of focus had drained me mentally, so I needed a day to think. I didn’t need motivation; I had that in front of me. Maleki’s defenseless, unmoving body lay in front of me, unchanging with the passing sun. Today would be spent in relaxation to allow me to recharge and continue the daunting work I had ahead of me. How could I relax? All my belongings were in my bag, a few feet away from me, near where Maleki had fallen through The Garden’s gates. There was nothing to pass the time with, no indulgences to bury my head into, no books or scrolls.

There were stories in my head that had been told to me, but they were embellished, and that would only worsen if I tried to remember them. Listening was never as vital a tool for learning, but reading was more permanent in my experience. The words leap out of the pages and stay in my mind, and I can pull them out at any moment. Images and voices are the hardest to remember. What did Grandpa sound like, and was Mother’s voice truly that sweet? Their voices danced in my head, unable to find form, only wisps of what I might have thought them to be and likely embellished like the stories. I cannot even remember such simple things, yet a thousand words from books on those old dusty shelves sat in a single file line, catalogued to be pulled at a moment’s notice. That was the only relaxation I was granted. For hours I pulled those books from memory and repeated lines in my head, trying to find a deeper meaning to their text. A month of loneliness had already felt miserable, but Maleki had suffered threefold my depression, so it would be disrespectful of his efforts for me to complain.

Fixating my focus on the rest of my right arm, a week passed, and I could move both arms again, but my legs and spine were restricting the most significant movements. If I wanted to climb that tree, I would need a lot more than arms. With that in mind, I looked down at my next goal. My legs were flat against the ground, so I grabbed above my knees and pulled my legs into an arch. This forced the soles of my feet to be pressed against the ground and limited the surface area I had to focus on. I repeated the same process as last time and focused on my toes individually. This worked for the big toes, but after two weeks of focusing, that’s all I had managed to regain. The toes are more supportive compared to the individual movements of every finger. I moved on from the toes and dedicated all my attention to the bone of my ankle that jutted out the outer part of my leg. I pried my legs into a crisscross position using my arms, which took a while without the assistance of my spine, and the end result looked more unconventional than normal. Three weeks later, I had everything below my ankles back.