Chapter 82: On the Edge of the Future

The Scarecrow gave herself half a year. Half a year to better understand her magic, improve her usage of it, along with figuring out a way to break into Jantok Sky.

Although a massive untaking, Vega wouldn’t allow herself to let Ani Arma drive her to fear. She wouldn’t let herself be bested by him.

Already a week since the party had split apart, the people that stayed moved most of their stuff to the Second Tower, taking up a small warehouse on one of the lower floors.

Containing tall shelves with boxes of expired ingredients and cobwebs, this warehouse had yet to be fully examined. Even after the week, they had known less than half of the equipment and stock there, for most of it had been written in Tripolian.

Sure, it had only been a week, but Vega was already feeling like she was falling too far behind. That she needed to catch up, that she needed to get things going.

In the middle of the night, everyone’s laid around into their bedrolls, shifting and rolling around. Vega, on account of not needing to sleep, continued her work with a candle by her side.

With stacks of old papers and books, Vega’s work continued on a rounded desk in a half circle shape. On there laid ancient pencils of which Vega used to take notes and to piece together what had been written. Or rather, what had survived from being ruined or decayed.

“Words, words, words… more words that I don-don’t get…” Slowly, her eyes closed halfway, unable to find anything in this manuscript of use. Getting up, she folded it and placed it in one of the crates beside her.

One was stacked so high that she needed to stand on the table to place it, this being the one with unreadable or useless information.

And the other was the one that contained bits of Kaliber’s history, sketches and descriptions of Soul Gems, and her dealings with Oligarchs. Currently, only three were in there.

“God…this was a-a mistake.” Rubbing her eyes, Vega wished Amir or even Valiato stayed behind. While she appreciated Florato and even Krimm’s help to translate, their skill with Tripolian was elementary compared to his.

Resting her head on the table, Vega rolled it and looked at them asleep. Florato’s hair was currently covering Sorbet’s face, and Sorbet’s hair was in Krimm’s mouth.

“Hmm…they’re trying their best. I shouldn’t hold it against them-them…” Vega closed her eyes, now mentally berating herself for even thinking they were holding her back. They were her friends and they wanted to do this, Vega couldn’t allow herself to be upset at them.

So she became upset with herself.

“...damn it…why don’t I know what happened?” Pushing herself up from the desk, Vega grabbed the candle and exited out of the warehouse.

Every now and again, Vega would come across a piece of paper that she could read, despite it being Tripolian. Whenever she did, she glowed and read like it was going to be a breakthrough. Yet within a few lines, all it ended up being was a recipe for cakes or a letter about menial matters.

“I can’t blame myself. But, I just…wish it was different.” Climbing up the many staircases further up, Vega watched through the cracks and chasm at the city. Even with much of it destroyed, it still had a serene quality.

Despite all the fires, all the wounds, it was peaceful and lovely, in an odd way.

“...maybe I’m just being selfish. Why does it matter-matter to me? No, how does it matter?” Stopping in a hallway of dark, Vega was surrounded only by the candle’s light and the few strings of moonlight through the cracks.

Vega knew that rationally, she couldn’t have any reasons to blame herself, she was lost. Abandoned would be a more apt term, abandoned by Ani Arma. Yet still, she feel a guilt that she held against her heart, like she had some wrongdoing, some unknown act that she committed.

“...do I even need to know?” Vega focused on Ani’s words, the words from the dream.

“A sketch. A sketch an artist makes before-fore they make a wonderful painting. What does that mean? …does it matter?” Bowing her head down, letting the candle weaken and darken, Vega shook and shivered. “Why do I care? No one cares.”

“Now that’s not true.”

A voice. A voice, warm and familiar, was right behind her. She turned her head and lifted the candle towards it. Nothing.

“Uhh…behind you?” The voice spoke again, of which Vega frantically searched. Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing.

“Where are ya-”

“Calm down-down! Just look over ya shoulder.” The voice calmly asked, and Vega slowly began to piece together who it was. Turning her head ever so slightly and holding her candle up high, she saw him.

The shadow had returned.

“Woah! You’re here! You’re here again!” Vega glowed with energy, knocked out from her sad stupor. Running to meet the shadow, all she did was moved where the light was coming from and chased after it.

“Indeed-deed. Also, where I am depends on the candle.” Sassily pointing at her hand, the shadow was still his brainy and matter of fact self.

“Right-right. Uhh…” Searching for a place to put the candle, Vega walked into one of the many indoor gardens of the tower.

With plenty of lounging space and moonlight from windows, it seemed almost perfect. What wasn’t perfect was the fact this room had been defaced when it was collapsing, so much of it was covered in rubble. Simply placing the candle atop a boulder, Vega returned to the shadow.

“What are ya doing here? Are ya supposed to come in dreams or something?” Vega poked at the ground the shadow was at.

“That’s what I thought too! But no. Maybe it has to do with… your emotions?”

“So like when I’m sad-sad? Or hopeless?” Offering an example, Vega tilted her hand towards the shadow.

“No, that can’t be right. It has to be more specific.” The shadow shifted around slightly, as if walking back and forth in a two dimensional plane.

Sitting down and putting her elbow on a knee, Vega rested her head against her hand. Like a philosopher thinking about life, Vega thought of the dream where she first met the shadow.

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All of it was still very vivid, and the whole week between then and now had muddled a few details. However, Vega remembered that the shadow arrived involuntarily and saved her when Ani Arma was trying to control her.

But how was that similar to now, Vega thought.

Perhaps she was hopeless, that finding her history might not have any benefit. Did he save her from that? It might have been more mundane, but that could be it. The shadow technically saved her from some type of peril.

“Is it because you helped me?”

“...no, that can’t be it. That’s not good enough.” The shadow stopped in place, grabbing his chin and shaking his head.

“It’s good enough for me.” Vega smiled softly, which made the shadow look at her for a moment. Like being snapped out of it, the it being overcomplication.

“...fair enough. Heh.” The shadow let go of his chin and strutted back towards Vega. “By the way-way, did we win?”

“I’m still alive, so yeah.” Vega showed off her new stitches, of which the shadow gasped.

“Jeez, what the hell happened?!” The shadow tried to place his hands on her, of which they fell through. “Oh, still can’t touch stuff.”

“I got set on fire, fought Runtaii, and killed him. And… yeah. Also the dream.” Vega relayed the info like it wasn’t too important.

“Huh. So just a regular Tuesday, huh?”

“The fucks a Tuesday?”

“So… do ya need help again?” The shadow shifted to Vega’s side, ready to help her out.

“Boy yes!” Vega leapt up, happy to have someone to help her figure this tower out. If not a guide, at least a friend who understood it.

“Hahaha! Let’s get started!”

Within the hour, Vega and the shadow transformed this garden from its collapsed state into an unorthodox personal office for Vega. With far more light and room for Vega’s antics and stuff she could decipher, she designed it based on her own style and form.

After breaking all the rubble into powder, Vega took whatever nearby furniture and put it all in the garden. Beds were stripped and became workbenches, old stools became stacked with books with labels to help categorize them, and many of the papers were laid in beds of Tripolinan flowers and Iozian grasses.

The main desk Vega had built herself, using the shadow’s engineering prowess and her wild creativity, they had turned a series of broken pots and shelves into a circular desk with drawers and space for a swivel chair.

Vega really liked the swivel chair.

The top of the desk was packed to the brim with rusted science equipment, boxes full of papers, and whatever nicknacks Vega found interesting. But one singular corner remained the cleanest.

This corner had a singular pamphlet, with the title ‘Welcome home, Construct!’, with parts written in both Iozian and Tripolian. It was for translation, not only of language but of finding her history.

Since the shadow had a greater knowledge of the tower’s design and layout, he had Vega find this pamphlet, for it was meant to give Vega a chance to figure out all these papers.

In the hands of an ordinary man, these random papers would appear useless. But the pamphlet would reveal the actual truth hidden behind the words.

In only ten minutes, this pamphlet had allowed Vega to turn her previously three papers of useful info into several boxes now filed and sorted.

“So when Kaliber writes about ‘stacking the shelves’, she means trading with an Oligarch?” Writing down on another piece of paper, Vega held the pamphlet in her other hand and glanced at it for confirmation.

“Yes, but remember when she specified which shelf. Like, if it says a Gorian shield it means-”

“Trading with a Sanguian Oligarch. And if it says a Tagi shelf, that means trading with an Eastern Patriarch. Right!” Speeding up her writing, Vega put down the translated paper and put it with the others.

“Wow. You’re doing good.” The shadow remark, looking at the tremendous progress Vega had achieved. Even if it was small, it showed how much influence Kaliber really had. Unknown to the general populace, but key to the Oligarchs and Patriarchs.

Like a bridge between Tripolia and Iozia. A person who offer hands between. That reminds me of something…

Wait…

No. Nevermind. I think I just had another brainfart.

“Thank ya shadow. This actually really helps.” Vega put down her pencils and rested her head down on the desk.

“Don’t mention it.” The shadow shrugged, not really feeling too proud of his contributions. Afterall, he was only a shadow following her.

“No really! I don’t think I’d ever get as far ahead without ya. Like… really. I think I would have just-just… given up. On figuring out my history.” Vega let her smile fade, allowing herself to imagine it. Giving up at this point.

“I seriously doubt that.” The shadow was not fucking believing that, especially after seeing what she had done.

“Dude, I’m trying to say I appreciate ya? Okay? Is… is that hard-hard to believe?” Vega shot up, not wanting her point to be dismissed.

The shadow backed up, not knowing how to properly respond to Vega. He bowed his head slightly and tapped his fingers together, as if summoning strength to say something.

As he did, Vega thought about what happened in the dream. More specifically, what Ani Arma had told her. Of the Black Box. Of offering to tell her history.

“Wait, what happened at the end? Of the dream!? Did Ani Arma do anything?” Vega launched from her chair and crouched down at her shadow.

“I… I don’t know? And I’m not lying this time! You held out your hand and then I suddenly woke up!” The shadow held out his hands in defense, of which Vega got up and groaned.

“Damn it! I…I…I hope he didn’t do anything to ya.” Vega crossed her arms and shook her head. She felt remarkably stupid for that choice. Even if she wanted to figure out her history, Vega knew shouldn’t have listened to Ani Arma.

She understood her feelings, of why she just wanted a straight answer, but that didn’t justify the choice enough.

“Hey. It’s okay.” Placing a dark hand on her shoulder, the shadow wished to make Vega feel okay.

“It isn’t. Look… I know ya have your reasons to hide and stuff. And I didn’t properly respect that. I’m just… scared that I might end up hurting people. If I become more selfish.” Vega put her hands on her hips, trying to support herself.

“I know. I went through that too-too. Technically still am. Haha! But, ya aren’t wrong to have these feelings. And ya aren’t wrong to want things for yourself. And clearly, ya care about your friends.” The shadow put it as clearly as he could, which took some genuine effort for himself.

“...thanks. Thank ya. I…I really like ya.” Vega spoke without thinking about the implications. If she could blush, she would have.

“...I like ya too.” The shadow replied, shivering as he did.

The two stood there, in this tense and warm silence.

“Hey… I want to tell ya my name. Now that Ani isn’t here.” The shadow got up close, right next to her side.

“...really?”

“Yes.”

“...tell-tell me.” Moving her head closer, Vega laid on the ground and rest her head on her arms.

“...my name is Skull Boy.”

“...heh…haha…hahahaha!” Rolling around in laughter, Vega immediately howled and slapped the ground in joy.

“Heh. Hahaha!” Skull Boy joined her in laughing, rolling around beside.

“Haha! Can I just call ya, hahaha, Skull? Skull Boy sounds…haha!” Vega couldn’t cease her laughing, but wanted to be kind to her new friend.

“Hahaha! Sure.” Said Skull.

“Hehehe. Okay, heh, okay.” Vega sat up, and looked to Skull. “Thank ya. It sure makes talking to ya a little less weird.”

“No worries. Its… been fun-fun talking to you. I think I’m leaving now.” Skull looked to seeing Vega’s shadow returning to normal.

“Oh. Well, I’ll see ya when I see ya.” Waving Skull off, she watched as Skull slowly disappeared from her shadow.

“And Vega?”

“Yes-yes?”

“... ya are more than your history. Ya are your reaction to it.” The last words Skull said, before his voice became quieter and quieter. And then he was gone. Vanishing from her sight.

Rising up, Vega saw the moon was getting low. And soon it would be day. Looking back at her shadow, she missed Skull’s form.

Shadows can show how far you have really come. And shadows can show you far you have to go.