Seth knew what was to happen next, at least if Domitia was the opponent he was facing. The priest had a certain favor for attacks and defenses that it led him to a certain bias. Domitia had proven he knew all the techniques but favored the few. In the fighting stance his opponent had chosen, the next form was more than obvious when coming against a staggered enemy. So Seth pushed to the side with a single step, braced for impact, and prepared his counter.
His mind was like the priestesses of the convents; nothing more than an imitation of something else—of someone else.
His mind came at him as was expected, cassock billowing in the wind that was supposed to be nonexistent in the cave. It struck like a snake this time, precision seeming to substitute power. But Seth had already moved a mere step before its attack, a prediction coming to fruition.
As the blow scaled past him, Seth held up both arms beside his head, forearm in the crook of an elbow so it set up a cross beside his head and stepped into his opponent. His guard hindered his vision, blinded him on one side, but he couldn’t bring himself to think on it. He needed to trust his knowledge to carry out the next plan of attack. Also, he needed nothing on that side of his head.
When his mind’s blow shifted its trajectory, it came to a halt as it struck against his cross-guard. Pain flared in Seth’s arms and he fought the force of the blow. It was all he could do to remain in place. The moment the force waned significantly enough, he struck back.
Power is a substitute to all things. In its wake all else pales. Precision is nothing but a support, flexibility much the same. In a fight, power is victory. It was something Derek had said once upon a time.
Seth went for power.
With as much of it as he could muster, Seth swung his leg as if swinging a particularly destructive bat. Victory came with sacrifices when sought out by the underdog, and he prepared himself for the pain he would feel in return. Only the powerful sought out victory with no thought for loss.
Seth knew enough to know he was not powerful.
His kick caught his mind outside its thigh. The attack shook its stance so that it wobbled in place. Seeing an opening, Seth struck again. He chose force over technique and ignored his own pain. His second kick proved as effective as the first and brought his mind to its knees. Seth saw another chance at attack but rather than capitalize, he danced away from his opponent, feet skipping across rocky grounds. The pain in his leg eased in the short time he bought himself. He could’ve thrown one more kick but it would’ve cost him far too much. It might’ve rendered the leg useless. It annoyed him that he could feel things now, at a time when he needed it the least.
His mind watched him go without expression. “You retreat when you should attack,” it said, almost sagely, rising to its feet.
“Caution,” was Seth’s response.
His mind shook its head, then shook its leg.
Satisfied with the action, it refocused its attention on him.
“Not caution,” it said. “Fear. You stand, consumed in a losing battle in a test of fear and still let fear guide you. How do you expect to win?”
“It’s shadow boxing,” Seth told it, feigning nonchalance and hoping he did it well. “Either way, I win.”
His mind offered him a ghost of a smile in response. “I guess you do.”
Then it surprised him with a chuckle. He could’ve sworn the sound was so beautiful, rich and full. It reminded him of a happy memory from childhood, which surprised him, considering most of his memories from childhood had terrifying bouts of headaches accompanying them. His childhood wasn’t sad, far from it, if he was being honest. But his headaches did not allow him enjoy most of its moments.
“Again?” his mind asked, and Seth nodded, knowing it was not a request.
This time when he took a stance, it was in imitation of his mind. He held his arms out before him, fingers splayed open, and elbows crooked. He held both palms out, one over the other, his eyes watching from between them. His legs spread apart at shoulder width and his knees bent forward ever so slightly.
His mind nodded its approval.
Then they began again.
They both moved at the same time. If his mind had predicted it, he didn’t know, neither could he tell. They met at the middle and a flurry of blows met. Seth weaved more than he blocked, opting for evasion over defense. His mind, on its own part, blocked more than it evaded.
Each slap came with a certain level of pain Seth had long since learned came with fighting of any kind, and their feet did not move through it all. As if by some unspoken agreement of will, they struck only at their upper bodies. None ever went for a kick, low or high. There were no knee strikes or leg sweeps. No low blows or feints. They faced each other with true and direct strikes designed to kill.
It seemed to last for a long time but they knew they merely met for no more than a minute before blows started breaking through their defenses. The first came from an elbow to Seth’s mind’s nose. It pushed its face back but did nothing to hinder the mind’s attacks. Another series of blocks and dodges were spent before Seth slapped his mind across the face. The second point rang true for him before his mind countered. Its elbow came high after a particularly well-timed dodge that forced Seth to lean back and away, then his mind’s hand came down on his chest right in the middle. It was like being struck by a particularly large needle.
Seth slapped the elbow away almost immediately. He grabbed it for the shortest moment as his mind pulled it back. Leveraged by its force of return, Seth pulled himself from his falling stance. There seemed a form of unspoken rule in their fight about losing one’s footing or falling that he wasn’t certain of. Seth wasn’t going to break it simply because he didn’t know it.
The mind smirked as Seth regained his form and saved himself from a fall.
Then their flurry continued almost immediately.
Seth’s breath held itself as he continued on, forced him through it all. His lungs fought to hold, to surpass their limits.
The continuing body movements drained the oxygen from his blood faster than it did whenever he went swimming. Still, his mind continued to go on as if fueled by infinity itself.
One strike slipped through.
Seth took the open hand to the face. He forced through, regardless of it. He struck it aside with a subconscious attack. Somewhere at the back of his mind he heard Domitia offer up some piece of advice he did not comprehend.
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His mind struck again, slipping past his defense to strike him in the jaw. The blow seemed more disrespectful than powerful. Seth ignored it again, pressed his attack forward. He needed one strike. In it he would go for power again, stagger his mind long enough to finish this.
Opportunity graced him after a while. He found it in the breath of a moment where one slap rocked one of his hands to the side, and took it.
His free hand scaled through every defense, open hand morphing into a closed fist. His shoulder blades tightened as his attack garnered speed from nothing more than the force of power. It made contact as a closed fist, and Seth kept himself from smiling. It was his win.
It took him only a moment to realize his loss when his fist met no resistance, and his smile slipped from his face.
His blow had missed its mark by a hair’s breadth. His mind had leaned its head to the side at the last moment and his fist stopped right beside its face. Seth retracted his hand in one fluid motion, transitioning into another form, only to find his arm trapped in his mind’s grip. One hand held him at the wrist while another struck him on the inside of the elbow. His elbow bent inward. It forced him forward so that his footing waned. Seth tried to realign himself and failed. But his mind was not going for his footing. It had other plans.
In the space of a heart beat his mind struck thrice. Each blow slipped through Seth’s defense. The first caught him in the neck. It forced his head forward, and the rest were destructive. The second caught him in the ear, a vicious slap. The third struck him sideways in the jaw and rattled his brain.
Seth went down without protest.
As if unsatisfied, or merely for record purposes, his mind struck irregularly. It followed him on his descent and nodded him.
Seth fell back where he had once been falling straight and the world darkened around him.
Silence reigned.
Actually, there was no silence.
Seth went down with the sounds of drums thumping in his head. He found it odd how even in the dawn of unconsciousness he could hear his own headache. That they would choose to come now seemed, in this moment, ludicrous.
…………………………………
Seth’s mind stepped away from his fallen body. It walked up to a corner of the cave and sat down. The test was practically over. All that was left was for Jabari’s handiwork to inform it of the status.
It knew it had failed its own test. It was the sacrifice it had been willing to take to ensure none of them got to their destination. In this little world, the real Seth had been at the disadvantage. It was his mind but he had shirked away from it for so long for fear of being lost in it. But the others had not, they had made this place their home. Thus, each of them had thought it was their place to rule. They had thought themselves capable even if they had known they were not. Worse, venturing deeper into the mountain would not have ended well for them. Even now, it still did not know how it knew that. Perhaps it was like fire, it was already warm. One did not have to get burnt to know that getting too close would get them burnt. The discomfort would simply grow as they drew closer and the end result would be inevitable.
The fragmented mind turned its attention towards the motionless bodies around it, settling on the one that represented Seth. It couldn't tell if Seth had failed his quest as well. After all, everything it had done had been to ensure he didn’t.
It was certain that, like Seth, the other fragments had walked into the mist with a quest of their own. The only problem had been knowing what each one’s quest had been—discerning who had been ally or foe.
“We’ll know soon enough,” it said, eyes watching the lying bodies of the other minds. One’s head still blazed a bright blue, the only other source of light in the cave save the dying torch on the ground. The other lay motionless a good distance away with its broken neck.
The mind felt a mild tugging at the edge of its awareness. It was like an ache knocking at its door. It granted it permission, waved a casual hand and brought it to life.
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Fracture Quest: [Ensure Unity].
Objective failed: [Keep All Minds Intact 1/3].
Consequence: Memory Fail.
Consequence [Memory fail] imminent.
A piece of Memory has been taken from constitution.
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Seth made a gesture with its hand and the notification disappeared.
If this had been the right choice was a question without answer. Its complete thoughts intact, the mind understood why the rest of it had sought a supremacy that was not theirs to wield. What had they thought themselves capable of achieving as leaders, though? Failure would’ve come swiftly, and their refusal to accept that had been the main motivation to drive it to its actions.
They had known it would always emerge victorious. After all, a test like this required violence to win. And none of them paid greater attention to the teachings of the seminary than it. It discarded this line of thought; replaced it with another.
Jabari’s handiwork had called its consequence [Memory fail]. It wondered what it meant, specifically. The idea of losing something important did not sit well with it. Or perhaps it would simply lose itself, fade away into nonexistence. Maybe it would regress into nothing but instinct. It was, after all, nothing but an amalgamation of Seth’s memories that had evolved into experience. It thought on the idea as it had done in the beginning. It was odd to find it was willing to sacrifice itself if it meant Seth would remain Seth. It had cared, it just hadn’t known it had cared this much, at least not before the test.
It waited for a while longer before something happened.
A whisper of smoke rose from the bodies around it not long after. Then something left it. It felt like losing an arm, yet it was gentle, perhaps losing a lover was a better description. A moment was all it needed to realize what it had lost.
“Oh.” It smiled sadly. “That, Jabari, was too steep a price, wouldn’t you say?”
There was no answer to it. No notification popped up. No voice replied. It hadn’t expected any to. But it mourned its loss in silence as the bodies around it turned to smoke.
In mere moments it was left in silence. Alone.
It looked around in the dark. The sad smile remained on its lips. Like a father watching his children leave. He would miss them greatly, but he also knew it was for the best. It was, in a way, a form of evolution. But not an evolution for itself.
Its eyes still studying the darkness, it came to stop at a path untaken in the cave. This was where they had been headed before their fight began. A place all three minds had somehow dreaded but had for reasons unknown to it continued to go to. Down that path was a curve. Down the curve was a bend. At the end of it was a room without a lock, and a lock without a door. And within the room was the fourth of them.
Seth was unaware of it. And sometimes, neither were they. Another way they could have survived was to fight together and beat it. The mind doubted very much that they would’ve succeeded. It was best left this way.
“You know,” it said to the curve as if speaking to a person. “I no longer know how to play an instrument, Seth.”
No response came.
Its smile waned. “Do you think you'll play for me someday?”
Silence.
Its smile became a frown, knowing what came next. “Me either.”
Then the mind’s body fell away and became dust. It did not know what color it was, but it hoped it was white.
It was not.
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Quest: [Test of Fear]
The Seminary has taken it upon itself to dispel from its inhabitants the sense of fear that plagues them all. As an aspiring mage of the soul, you will be faced with instances where you are to stand before that which you fear the most. The seminary would rather not have you freeze then and put its name to shame. Should you freeze and die from your fear, kindly do it here where the shame will be yours and yours alone. Or survive and grow stronger.
Objective: Survive the Mist.
Reward: Increase in Mental Resistance, Possible Skill.
Consequence: Mind Break, Possible Death.
Quest [Test of Fear] complete.
Objective passed: Survive the Mist.
Reward: [Mental Resistance] increased minimally.
Skill [Fractured Mind] attained.
[Fractured Mind].
An awareness of mind. Unity in division.
An observer is cursed with a fragmented mind, separated for the purpose of carrying out varying tasks individually. However, Observers come to learn that unity of mind puts things into greater focus. An Observer with ‘fractured mind’ in effect is a deadly opponent to stand against, as none should face an opponent with naught but a single-minded will.
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Seth came awake quietly.