Seth sat against the tree for a time he could not count. His injury had stopped bleeding and the cloth wrapped around it was no longer as moist as it had once been.
In front of him Timi had not moved an inch. His hulking size was reminiscent of the tree behind him and Seth found himself wondering how much discomfort it took for the boy to get through the tree’s entrance.
It hadn’t necessarily been built for a person so tall.
It had been a while since he’d been sitting here, a while since his mind had been numb and his thoughts empty. Sometimes a sliver of a thought would try to pierce his numbness. His body would tense and his throat would tighten but his breathing would never be affected. It would come like a muscle spasm but his body would barely twitch. Then it would be gone and he would be normal again. As much as his body was strained by it, his mind was always pricked by it. However, whatever wakefulness his mind thought to gain from it would always leave after the barest touch.
Most of the time was spent with his eyes closed. On the few occasions they were open, they always met the sight of Timi’s stare. The boy watched him like a hawk. He worried over him and likely suffered a significant level of helplessness knowing he was not allowed speech. Sometimes his gaze would shift to Seth’s wrapped injury before shifting back in the general direction of Seth or staring into the snow as if it held the secrets of every fragment.
Hidden behind his worry was also a touch of fear. Seth assumed it came from the possibility of his judgement. His friendship to Timi in the seminary often felt more important than the boy’s friendship to him. After all, he hadn’t been shunned by his brothers, but Timi had.
If he can just stop carrying rumors he’d do a lot better, one of Seth’s minds thought.
Seth thought about it with closed eyes. Was there still enough time to salvage it? Could Timi reinvent himself enough to stop being a pariah to his brothers?
Does it matter? Another mind asked.
It did, didn’t it?
How else was he going to make friends?
He already has a friend.
“He needs more,” Seth found himself muttering.
Why? A mind asked. One has been enough for him for two years. What changed? Is he about to lose a friend?
Is our friendship about to be less?
Was it?
Seth thought briefly but found no answer. That his minds worked did not mean his mind was no longer numb. It simply meant there were parts of him that didn’t need him fully functional to work.
Rather than worry so much about it, he pulled up a forgotten notification.
----------------------------------------
Criteria Met.
Minimum Requirement: [Health 86%/80%]
Health status exceeded.
Minimum Requirement met.
...
Hidden Quest discovered: [End of a Path].
A reia beast has found a path to the realm of the soul. Its pursuit for superiority has led to the demise of more than the ecosystem is willing to sacrifice. Apprehend its evolution and bring death swiftly to this creature before it continues on the path of a soul beast.
Hidden Objective: [Eliminate Soul Beast 0/1]
Reward: Keen sight.
Consequence: Possible Death.
----------------------------------------
It had changed mildly. His health percentage had dropped since his encounter with Salem. And by a lot, at that. Still, he met the criteria.
Please tell us we’re still going snake hunting, a mind begged.
Seth’s response was a raised arm. The bleeding had stopped but he was certain it was more from the pressure of the wrapping cloth. His blood wasn’t clotting.
“I don’t advise us going anywhere with this.”
There was a sound of movement in front of him and he was forced to open his eyes. Timi stood there as he had been doing since the beginning. The boy’s feet shuffled in the snow and his lips pressed into a thin line. Seth knew that look. It was the look his brother had whenever he had something to say.
Seth closed his eyes back tiredly. “What’s it, brother?”
Even in the darkness of closed eyes he could imagine Timi scratching his once chubby cheeks in nervous thinking.
“Spit it out,” he pressed.
“I saw Yarrow not too far from here,” Timi said slowly. “There’s also a patch of Astralagus but that’s farer than here.”
Seth nodded but said nothing. In the weeks here he’d noticed the forest had every basic plant herb for treating injuries. Not that he’d really needed them or used them. In fact, this place was sufficient enough for survival if one simply cared to look around. Meat for nutrition, plants for medicine.
Now he found he wished he’d gathered some.
We can get this treated and still make it to the quest, one of his minds thought.
Seth sighed. “Is it that important?”
Yes, a mind thought. It’s a new skill. Keen Sight. Whatever that is.
“But you guys didn’t even like Fractured Mind.” His good hand wandered to his injury and touched the wrapping. It was still moist.
Fractured Mind is a good skill. We just don’t like how it makes us feel.
“And how does…” his words trailed of like the dying sunset as he remembered Timi had been talking to him and he returned his attention to the boy.
As was always the way with him, Timi stood patiently waiting for his apparent monologue to end. It reminded him of one of the reasons he appreciated the boy’s friendship. He was the only one who didn’t look at him like a half-cracked pipe whenever he conversed with his minds. He simply waited his turn.
“Sorry,” Seth said. “You were saying something.” He scratched the back of his head in thought with his uninjured hand. “Yarrow root is close and…”
“And Astralagus is far,” Timi finished.
Seth nodded once. “Yarrow root will do fine.”
Timi turned away to leave but paused. “Rumor has it,” he said, a tremor in his voice, “that I made you do something you wouldn’t have done before… I’m sorry.”
Before Seth could gather a response, his brother was already on his way. So, instead, he sighed and rested his head back against the tree.
Hurts, doesn’t it? a mind thought.
“Sometimes I think he uses ‘rumors’ to pass along what he thinks,” he said, ignoring the question.
You told him to shut up when all he did was worry about you, another mind pointed out.
“You know what he made me do.”
He didn’t make you do anything. You got between them of your own accord and stood against Salem of your own accord.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“What was I going to do; let him die?”
Maybe, a mind thought.
No, another countered. But that’s not the point. The point is he didn’t ask you to do anything for him. He didn’t ask you to fight Salem, and he didn’t ask you to win.
Seth frowned. It was firm and tight. “So I did all that just to feel useful? Is that it?”
Again, you’re missing the point.
“Then make the point.” His anger threatened to flare and he clenched his jaw against it. “You all continue to claim that we’re all the same person. Well, if we are, then why don’t I understand a single thing you’re trying to say? If you have a point to make, make it!”
His minds sighed. The point we’re trying to make is that you shouldn’t take your anger out on Timi.
“I didn’t.”
Well, you’re treating him as if he orchestrated the whole fight between you and Salem.
“He kinda did.”
No. A bunch of words in the air did. They told you to make a choice and you did. Wasn’t like there weren’t other possibilities out there.
“Possibilities, huh?” Seth’s frown lightened and his voice softened, but not his anger. “And where were you guys and those possibilities when I needed them? What were you doing when I was listening to a bunch of words in the air?”
That’s not the point. We’re not blaming you for not finding a way, we’re saying it’s not Timi’s fault.
“Then whose fault is it?!” he hissed. “You want to blame me for it?”
Silence met him.
“Oh,” he scowled. “Not so big now, are you? You were all silent through out. And I remember one of you begging me to bury him.”
He cut us, a thought spilled out in quiet remorse. We were angry.
“And you’re good now. Right? Peachy.”
For the love of the Winter Test, Seth, listen!
Seth was half way up from his seated position before he knew it. “You don’t get to—”
We killed someone! All his minds thought as one. It was a roar in his head, a broken echo. Not you, Seth. Us. Some of us may have tried to stop you but it doesn’t change the fact that we killed someone. And rather than deal with it, you’re taking out your anger on Timi and blaming the voices in your head. We know you've been through a lot during this test but you weren't alone. We went through it with you. And what you've been through is no justification for this.
Whatever fight Seth had had in him dulled. It left him like the smoke of hot steel in brine and he slumped back down. The unfamiliar sting of tears touched the back of his eyes as he asked, “Then what would you have me do?”
The tears rolled quietly down both cheeks. He put his face in his hands and cried quiet, hopeless sobs. “What would you have me do?” he repeated, voice broken.
There was no answer.
He sat in the snow and his minds left him with the gift of silence. It might not be much in the vast life of a soul mage but death was inevitable. And even unsouled, he was walking the path of soul magic. Death was going to be a part of his life and at least one human would fall prey to him. he already knew this, had known it like a new born knows they are alive, like the old know they must die one day.
But the knowing of something is different from the doing of it.
So he sat, and he cried. Like a disillusioned child awoken to the cruelty of reality. He sobbed sad tears for the sin he had committed. He cried for the sins he was yet to commit.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat with his head in his hands or how long he cried but he knew it wasn’t very long. The winter air still left no chill to his bones and his tears didn’t dry to thin icicles on his face. So he guessed it was a good thing.
When he was done, he wiped his face with the back of his hands, sniffled whatever snot and mucus was left in his nostrils, and was reminded of how much of a filthy crier he was. As a child he’d rarely cried. Most times he’d bottle up his feelings and chuck it up to the world’s unfairness against him. The seminary had since shown him what unfairness was, how wrong he'd been, but he had been a child then with no more worries than if he’d like dinner and Derek’s next snide remark.
He missed being a child.
How do you feel now? A mind asked. Any better?
He shook his head. “No.”
We see. Still angry, though?
Seth took a moment to think on it. Was he still angry? No. But he was something, something that was not happy. Well, for the moment his head was clear, or a semblance of it at least. It was the most he could hope for.
Timi chose then to arrive. He turned out from behind a small cluster of trees with a handful of Yarrow in his grasp. They were flaked with the residue of snow but his light brown hands showed no sign of discomfort. They didn’t tremble or shake so Seth couldn't tell if they were chill to the touch. And his skin color was so that it didn’t turn a shade red or pale at the barest discomfort, much unlike Seth and the rest of their brothers.
As the few seconds ticked by Seth watched his brother set down his harvest of the plant on a floor cleared of snow. He picked it apart with the patience of an untrained healer then set to grinding and squeezing. When that was done, he wet it with a bit of snow and repeated the process. The end result was a mild smudge of something semi-solid.
In Timi’s lack of expertise, the handful of the plant he’d brought was wittled down to a smudge that rested on three fingers.
Quietly as if unwilling to break the silence of an unspoken truce, Timi unwrapped the moist piece of clothing that played at being a bandage and smeared his masterpiece along the length of the cut.
Timi did his best to be gentle but Seth winced and grimaced at the touch of it. Pain stabbed at him everywhere the liquid touched and he found himself beginning to worry his brother had worked the plant wrong. His worry subsided at the sight of a new notification.
----------------------------------------
[You Have Applied Healing mixture.]
[You Have Cleansed Multiple Instances of Status Effect: Blood Loss.]
[Status Effect Blood Loss is Now Hemophilia and Bleed.]
[You Have Applied Healing mixture.]
[You Have Cleansed Multiple Instances of Status Effect: Bleed.]
[You Have Applied Healing mixture.]
[You Have Cleansed Status Effect: Bleed.]
[You Are Under Multiple Instances of Blood Trait: Hemophilia.]
----------------------------------------
We guess that sorts that, one of his minds thought, and he agreed.
When Timi was done with his application, they sat quietly. The moment of silence stretched awkwardly. Seth had asked him to shut up and the boy seemed adamant on obeying. Needing something to do with the silence, he studied his brother.
The test had done a few things for Timi. His two years in the seminary had trimmed him down from fat to chubby but he was less than chubby now. It was still evident that he’d once been chubby, but he was significantly less flabby in most places. For one, his face was slimmer now. He’d lost the cheeks that always gave him away. While they were not hollowed out, they were diminished enough to reveal a hint of what might be a squared jaw.
He couldn’t see much underneath the cassock his brother wore but assumed the fat loss was not restricted to his face.
His general visage was no different, however. His brown eyes still had the look of innocent naivete Seth had seen on his face on that first day. Nothing like what would be expected of a child who’d been in a situation dire enough to eat another human being.
Seth’s mouth opened mildly and he caught himself before he could speak. He’d almost asked why. There was little chance a reason would make a difference. He’d already made his choice a while ago and was going to have to live with it. A reason would do him no good.
Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”
Timi looked at him with a soft touch of confusion. “What?”
“I’m sorry I told you to shut up,” he muttered. He’d thought it would be easier. An apology should be easy, should it not? Yet his words came out in a low scribble, like a half-mumbled piece of differential nonsense.
Timi made a sound between a groan and a grunt. It could’ve meant anything. Knowing the boy, Seth knew it was his form of acquiescence. It also proved that while he knew what he had been going for, he hadn’t heard it.
He rose from the floor as if there was a task at hand and dusted himself off. Timi followed out of nothing more than a sense of deference he always showed him. Seth dwelled neither on it nor the fact that he’d gotten up with nothing to do. A part of him was simply glad it was over with.
It was a win-win.
Not really, a mind pointed out. We mean, that’s not how apologies work.
Seth cocked a quizzical brow at his minds. Where they going to play conscience now? He’d thought they were satisfied with that part as noise and occasional combat voices in his head.
Fatso will always forgive you, no matter what you do—
We hope.
—but would, maybe, Jason accept that as an apology?
Seth frowned at the line of thought. Ahead of him Timi went through the menial task of covering a snowy floor with more snow using his foot.
Fatso deserves better.
Seth’s frown fell from his face and he swallowed a pride he was now realizing he had. His minds were right; Timi deserved better.
“Timi,” he called out.
The boy raised his head with the curious blankness of a soldier awaiting his next orders but said nothing.
“I’m sorry.”
Timi’s brows furrowed in confusion and that was all the response he gave.
Seth almost smiled at the boy’s lack of care. He realized it was the way the boy always was; never caring or being bothered by the things he did. He had a feeling that in his brother’s eyes he was never right. Still, he pressed on.
“I’m sorry I told you to shut up,” he said, mustering up a clear and honest voice. It was more honest than it was clear, but it was clear enough.
Timi nodded once in understanding. And while his confusion lightened, it did not leave. “It was just a little,” he said. “So it’s alright.” He brushed the snow with a foot once more before turning to the hole in the tree. “The others tell me to shut up all the time.” He shrugged. “And it’s never for a little.”
Then he bent and made his way into the tree.
Seth stood out in the winter cold in confused silence, not really sure why he was confused.
Wow, a mind thought.
Just wow, another followed. How does a guy like him end up in a place like the seminary?
“I’d guess the same way most of us did: in the hands of a priest.”
Well, another mind interrupted jauntily. We’re taking bets.
What’s the bet?
Three dots of supremacy to anyone that can make him get angry.
That’s easy, just get someone to offend us.
No, retard. We meant angry with us.
There was a thoughtful pause as Seth shook his head before another mind answered.
Sounds like fun.
Count us in on it. We have a few ideas we’ve always wanted to try out.
Seth shook his head as he approached the entrance of the tree, an idea that had nothing to do with his minds’ wager on his mind.
He got to the entrance and knocked on the tree softly.
“Hey, Timi,” he called out.
Timi’s response was immediate. “Come in.”
Seth shook his head. “I’m more disposed to you coming out,” he said. “What do you think about helping me hunt a really big snake?”
There was a mild shuffle and Timi stepped out of the tree a moment after. He hefted a sheathed broadsword on his shoulder. It was easily more than half Seth’s height.
He looked down at Seth with curious eyes and asked, “What’s disposed mean?”
Seth chuckled softly. He shook his head as he did and turned in the general direction of where he’d left the snake tracks. It was just last night yet it felt like days ago.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ll tell you on the way.”
Timi fell into step beside him. His single broadsword was an odd reassurance to his presence.
We swear fatso’s wasted on you, a mind thought.
“I know,” Seth answered. “I know.”