“I can’t believe that after yesterday I struggled to fall asleep last night,” I say lying in my bed staring at the roof in my room.
“We had a big day yesterday with cracking hands, brokering a hostage negotiation, and flirting with a mysterious woman behind a wall. I’m also surprised you struggled to sleep after all of that. If this is what you do on a day of rest, I really should have pushed you harder,” my grandfather says chuckling to himself in my head.
I sit up and look at the empty wall that used to be covered in drying plants. Seeing it void of my medicinal work almost confirmed to me that somewhere along the way my path shifted dramatically and going back to a simpler life with more straightforward goals will probably be an impossibility. Even last night eating dinner with my father wasn’t the same as it once was.
Generally, my father and I have some form of conversation during meals, but last night we ate in silence. My father would look at me and quickly turn his gaze from me. Through what glances I could see, I saw that there was a combination of concern, regret, and pain in my father’s eyes. The only words that he muttered more to himself than to me were, “Argentum couldn’t have been right, but now I can’t help but see it. Father…”
I clutch my deer stuffy to my chest and place it on the bed beside me. I walk as a stranger in my own home, and it has only been half a year since I’ve begun my new path. I get up from bed and open my cabinet and look in each jar. Some jars were well used in my absence whereas others are now filled with rancid materials or impotent dusts. I replace the jars, not having the will or energy to clean what is now useless, as I fear that I really will fade from my family home if I do.
“Take that book over on the desk with you, as we may need it,” says my grandfather pointing behind me in my mind’s eye, and I go over to my desk and pick up my herb journal.
I turn through its pages looking at the various pressed plants and my notes about each one. Notes I made learning to listen to the essence of the world around me. This book was created during times where I thought I was cursed to have evil voices scream at me when I wasn’t actively trying to suppress them. Weird how now the whispers that had once plagued me, now speak sweetly to me. Another emblem of my past life, and another shade of the person who once lived here.
“So, this will be my essence reservoir?” I ask still flipping through the pages of the journal, noticing how some pages contain my embarrassing thoughts involving Uzuri and my reflections when I was facing the darkest moments of my life. I shut the book, as if to hide these things from my grandfather, but I know he already has seen the contents of this book. He did go through my memories, so he knows the contents probably more intimately than I do.
“I can’t say for sure. I want to say no, as that journal is tied so much to your more human life, not your celandil life, but as I said I can’t be certain that it won’t be,” says my grandfather and my body shrugs as my grandfather does in my head, “but that can wait, go and enjoy breakfast and we can talk later.”
I change into some new clothes; my old clothes were falling apart from constant use and were more thread than fabric at this point and place my journal into my satchel. Before leaving my room, I look behind me once more. I do not know if this will be the last time I’ll see this place, as every time I leave the time of my return grows ever longer.
I open the door and I see my mother relaxing in my father’s chair. Her leg now has a large scar on it from when Dargot got her. She sat holding something in her hands, a piece of fabric or leather, I couldn’t be sure what it was as the way she held it obscured it from my view. I walk over to the kitchen and grab some honey and bread and sit at the hearth. The weather is growing colder, and I’ve missed the feeling of being warm. I note that I should grab my winter clothes before heading out again, and bite into my bread and honey. My tongue long denied its purpose rejoices in the sweet delicacy.
“Skath, I heard what happened yesterday at the village from my sister Esther,” says my mother getting up from my father’s chair and sitting next to me. I turn my head away from her to hide my shame and take another bite of bread. I can’t face her knowing that I had harmed someone that is technically family.
“She said ‘Marion, a miracle had occurred,’ Gehenna has been put in his place and now she and her son do not have to live in fear of him for months maybe the rest of their lives,” says my mother punching my shoulder playfully, “she told me that the village has dubbed the incident as a run in with a demon, but she insists that it was an angel sent to save her.”
“He threatened Uzuri, and I lost control of myself,” I say my head still bowed, “I have been learning so much and growing in strength and when he came upon me, I just couldn’t stand and take it like I used to… I haven’t been around people for a long while and now they are fragile to me and it scares me. I wanted to heal people, but now I can crush hands without a second thought. I think I might have made myself into a monster, just so that I could help Uzuri.”
My breath grows heavy and my hands quake in my vision, and my mother wraps an arm around my shoulder, “Skath, you missed the last part didn’t you. Esther who hasn’t said your name since the day you were born, now praises you as her guardian angel. For the first time in years, she feels safe. Gehenna deserves what he got; in fact, it may have still been to light a punishment for all he’s done.”
“But I’m not some angel! Angels don’t go and break people’s hands because they get angry! I did something terrible, I abused the strength I was given, and I’ve turned from the path that I wanted to embrace,” I say still shaking as I hear my mother tell me what I did yesterday was somehow a good thing, when it was horrible and terrible. She didn’t see the blood and jellied hands of Gehenna. She didn’t feel the blood ooze, flesh rip, and bones shatter. I did, and I will carry those sensations and sounds in my memories forever.
“Avenging angels do get angry though. Some say they get angry so that the gods won’t, and those angels also go about healing and protecting. Your father tells me that they are not seen as good necessarily, and sometimes inspire more fear than admiration, but when they appear the deserving receive blessings and the guilty receive their long-avoided justice,” says my mother raising my head up, “or at least that’s what I think I remember from when your father told me about the religion of his people.”
“I’m not an avenging angel. I’m just me. I… I don’t want to hurt or avenge or deliver justice. I just want to live a life where I have a part in healing pain and find a place I truly belong. Now, after I destroyed Gehenna’s arms, I can’t help but see the horrified faces of those who saw the aftermath of my rage,” I say, again looking at my hands and blood seemed to reappear upon them, “how can a monster find a place amongst man.”
“Gods, goddesses, angels are also monstrous if you think about it,” says my mother patting my head, “Yet they are venerated by humankind. However, they all lounge in the heavens looking down upon us, and when the drama isn’t going the way they like or it becomes too raunchy for their taste, or perhaps they want a change of cast, they without acknowledging those they are going to impact use their power to force themselves upon all of us and the world. What’s the difference between them and demons? There isn’t much of a difference as both use their powers to abuse and guide for their own purposes.”
“Stop with all this religious metaphor, and just speak straight with me,” I beg as I push myself from my mother’s embrace.
“I’m glad that you were able to go from powerless to powerful in so short a time, as you can still see yourself as a pathetic welp and still think in terms of those you stood with just months ago. The corruption of power is separation. This corruption seeps into people and causes you to see your fellow man not as your fellows but as pawns, tools, resources, or even believers. You can’t separate Gehenna from being another human being, even though he is a monstrous beast who has abused power. This fact alone comforts me as you progress from welp to man,” says my mother reaching for me, “Truth, history, and so much more can bend to those who have power, however, the oft forgotten responsibility of wielding power is to maintain the connections you have with your fellow man and to know yourself in them.”
I stop trying to push her away and let her embrace me again, and I feel comforted that she doesn’t see me as some beast. That the actions that horrified me and others were seen as benevolent in her and her sister’s eyes. I still wish to do my best for those around me and avoid unnecessary brutality, but perhaps there can be healing in pain like my grandfather said. Perhaps the definition of healing is much more than sealing wounds and curing illness.
“Mom, I think I may have found a way for Uzuri to be free and for your family to be safe. I’ve gone to the teratolion and have made arrangements that if all goes well no one has to die except the guilty,” I say under my breath feeling less shaken now, “but I’m sure that Gehenna will not stay down for long. Plans that would have taken another half a year are now being pushed forward and I may have to leave soon.”
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“Thank you for doing what you can to save my people and your precious Uzuri… also, I know that you won’t be here with your father and I long. I still don’t know how to fully accept you leaving, but you are becoming a strong man with a compassionate soul and I know the world will be lucky to have you in it,” says my mother taking the leather strip that she had in her hands to show it to me. The leather strip had the words ‘I walk with you’ in celandilic script burned into its surface accompanied with nature designs that must have been inspired by some of the plants in my journal and had a carved bone button. The button was a small piece of a boar tusk engraved to depict a stag which reminded me of my stuffy. My mother took the leather strip and buttoned it around my arm.
My mother smiles at seeing the band around my arm, and says, “during the Amolacrimae a girl will hand out a personalized band to the one she loves. Generally, they are made of cloth, but I’m not one for tradition, and leather is far more durable. Also, I got that leather off a boar I got a few months back and would rather you remember me for what I am and not some house dwelling weaver. I know this may be an awkward gesture given its cultural connotations and receiving it from your mother, but again I’m not one for tradition and traditions can be rewritten to have new significance. Anyway, giving you this I can walk beside you in a way and remind you of your roots here in Unadeam when you are out in the world making me proud.”
“Thanks mum,” I say raising a hand to touch the leather band, “thanks for everything, and I’ll do all I can to make you proud. I’ll do all I can to save your family and Uzuri, this I promise.”
I give my mom a hug and we hold each other until I hear my grandfather whisper to me that it is time to leave. I break from the hug first and an unspoken understanding breaches the silence between us. I gather my things remembering to grab warmer clothing and a bed roll, and wave goodbye. My mother getting up from sitting next to the hearth and reassuming her place in my father’s chair waves back giving me a bright smile that seems to wish me well, a single tear rolling down her cheek. I open the front door and leave my family home and start my journey back to my place of training.
Instead of bounding through the forest from tree to tree, I walk in introspection. What will I become? Am I still human, or is my destiny to become more and still walk with my fellows? Will I ever have a family again after I depart from the valley of Unadeam? So many questions, yet no answers, only possibilities. Possibilities that are both happy and tragic, but all these possibilities are, are ponderances that have not or will not occur. The only thing that I can truly say is real is this moment, and as I raise a hand to my arm to feel the leather band, I know that despite needing to leave my family behind they’ll still come with me and that will be true and real as well.
When I step into my outdoor gymnasium, I stroll the perimeter of the clearing I had made. I look at all the tree trunks and boulders and feel a slight nostalgia. I know that I have been gone for less than a day but going back to those who knew me before my training made this whole experience seem like a strange dream.
“Alright Skath, welcome to the final month of training,” says my grandfather who appears beside me in his spectral form.
I look at him in surprise and ask, “what do you mean final month? We will have more time after saving Uzuri and the village to train some more, won’t we?”
My grandfather shakes his head and says, “When I had originally prepared your curriculum, I had done so for a year time frame, but now that the gauntlet has been thrown, I figure we have a month before Gehenna is back on his feet. Within that timeframe we will continue training as we have and make an essence reservoir which will disconnect you from mine permanently.”
“Weren’t we going to do external essence manipulation and inscription first? what happened to learning all that?” I ask, now knowing that what family I had become accustomed to always being with me will soon be gone.
“I was counting on having six months to attempt to teach you, but I don’t have the experience to help you with the situation we accidentally created and the knowledge I have been accumulating about you during training has resulted in less than pleasing conclusions,” says my grandfather as he walks with me, “Skath, I don’t think that you will be able to use external based soulcraft techniques. My attempts to weaken the essence flesh barrier have only strengthened it. In addition, your essence is so weak when it breaks through the barrier it cannot exist outside of your physical body for more than a few seconds even after all our training. It has been spectacular to see your talent and progress at internal manipulation of essence, but unfortunately this talent and progress came with a price.”
“Can I guess the price?” I ask while kicking a medium sized rock over the trees, “Because the essence flesh barrier is formed when essence doesn’t leave the body. Your decision to train internal essence manipulation first, inadvertently led to the barrier to be strengthened with the stronger essence my soul produced as I exercised it these last few months. Whatever progress you made to weaken the barrier by draining me of essence every night was undone by me growing stronger.”
My grandfather nods at me, confirming my words and gives a sigh, “I thought that perhaps in training you to grow even stronger in internal essence manipulation that eventually you would be able to brute force the barrier, but I think what we are creating is a situation where an immovable object faces an unstoppable force. I’m sorry Skath, if I had known what I do now maybe you would be able to use external forms of soulcraft, but as it is now the stronger you grow the more and more impossible it is for you to use every aspect of soulcraft.”
“So, this is it then, I’ve reached my limit,” I say taking a seat on a stump, the cruelty of reality sneaking up on me once more, “I mean, don’t get me wrong I’m extremely grateful to have come this far and I’m amazed at what I can do. It’s just… I can’t not feel disappointed… I’ve endured so much from you draining me, nearly killing me, and my soul ripping through my body several times a day, and the physical and mental fatigue, I just thought maybe I could go the distance.”
I attempt to force essence to my finger to produce the small spark I could in the past. The familiar agony shoots through my body and a small spark flashes into existence and disappears. I can’t even sustain the small candle unworthy flame anymore. I’ve progressed so far, yet I’m worse than when I started.
“Can’t we just continue training as we have? We could still go the full time. I could become as strong as I can, but specializing in internal based soulcraft,” I say under my breath as I stare at the space above my finger where the spark sputtered and died.
My grandfather turns his head from me, bites his lip, then shakes his head, “The truth is Skath, that one month is all the time we have. I lied a little saying that Gehenna was the sole reason we had a month left. The true reason we have a month is your essence flesh barrier strengthens every day, even without training, and soon your essence and soul will be completely sealed within you. When I noticed this trend, it was already too late. I’ll soon not have essence to power the inscriptions of my essence reservoir. A month is truly all we have, in accordance with my most generous estimates.”
“So, I am able to use inscription! You just said that I am powering your essence reservoir, so there is hope right?” I ask rising from where I was seated unveiling my desperate excitement and hope.
“When I noticed the trend of your barrier getting stronger and the essence breaking the barrier getting weaker, I began to stockpile essence to maintain myself, but my stockpile is soon to expire. What essence I can get from you is only one percent the strength of what I have in my stockpile,” explains my grandfather taking a seat on a stump next to the one I had sat upon moments ago, “Every day the strength of the essence that breaks through the essence flesh barrier gets weaker, and ultimately the barrier will soon seal completely and no essence no matter how strong it is will be able to break through. Both inscription and external essence techniques are impossible now. I’m so sorry.”
“What do we do now? Does this mean our training is technically complete?” I ask as I rub my forehead with my hand, my body feeling limp as I fall backwards and take a seat.
“There is one thing we could try,” says my grandfather getting up next to me, “as I said we will be attempting to make an essence reservoir.”
I shake my head in disbelief as everything he told me seemed to contradict this plan my grandfather was putting forward, so I interject, “How? I can’t force essence out of my body, and if inscription is the process of infusing essence into written spells, like my father’s scrolls that empower his sword, well I’m out of luck.”
“There is one type of reservoir that is more a legend than necessarily common practice,” says my grandfather getting up to stand beside me, “the creation of an essence reservoir requires one to impart a piece of their soul into a chosen container. Generally, this soul shard dissipates into the reservoir connecting the very soul of the celandil to the reservoir making the use of inscriptions or ‘written spells’ a matter of thought and instinct, rather than depending on further use of essence manipulation, spoken words and flashy flourishes like your father’s scrolls unfurling dramatically to summon flames to encompass your father’s blade. However, there is a chance that said container may form a soul of its own from the soul shard injected into it, leading to the reservoir itself to produce essence of its own. Essentially this type of reservoir almost becomes a celandil unto itself while being at the complete command of its soul giver. However, attempts to create said reservoirs in my day were always failures.”
“I have to do something that not even celandil in your day were able to do? I can’t force essence from my fingertip, how do you think I’ll force a portion of my soul through my essence flesh barrier, when it is meant to keep that in as well,” I say in frustration.
“In the brief time my reservoir was with your father, I saw him achieve the impossible. How he made that special reservoir, even he doesn’t know. I don’t know the exact principle behind it either, but I feel that the traits he has that made it possible run in you,” says my grandfather placing his ethereal hand on my shoulder, “essentially this month onward, I’ll continue to train you and teach you, but you will have to teach yourself how to become a celandil after this month. I’ve taught your mind to see the world by the rules that govern it, and I have taught your body how to be infused with essence to surpass its limits. After this month you will have to learn to surpass your spiritual limits, as I am not able to teach you this. I trust you though, I trust and know that you will be able to go the distance.”