The Land: Forging (Chaos Seeds Book 2)

CHAPTER 25

Sion’s mind was back in the present day. The weight of what he had just lived through caused his shoulders to droop, and tears fell down his face. He curled up onto the floor of the tunnel. Alone he wept for remembered pain and forgotten guilt.

Behind him, there was still only a blank wall. In front of him, was a tangle of roots. They writhed across the entire shaft, stopping any possibility of forward movement. The random motions steadied into the form of an expressive face. He would not have been able to see anything if not for the moss attached to the roots. They gave off a soft green illumination. It was more than enough for him to see his immediate surroundings, but the end of the tunnel disappeared into darkness.

“Why did Kurian die,” the face asked in a rich, deep voice. The words echoed quietly, fading into a distant rumble. As it spoke, the words on the banded door in front of him. The glowing blue letters hung in midair:

The passage of birth is the loss of the womb. The safety of illusion is shattered by the truth of pain. Any being would be crushed, to carry the world on his shoulders. Know thy limitations to transcend them.

Sion didn’t answer at first. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, he thought over and over.

“Why did Kurian die,” the voice repeated.

“What do you want me to say,” Sion asked in a quiet voice.

“Why did Kurian die?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he cried out.

The face just stared at him, and he heard a forest lark.

“Sion! Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I was coming too!”

Not again! Not again, he thought over and over. Sion’s spirit struggled and fought, but had no more control this iteration of memory than he had the last. He was forced to watch his long lost friend through young eyes again. He relived their halcyon days spent in search of adventure. He sat through the horrors that can come from men’s dark desires. He felt hate again take root in his soul at the agonizing death of innocent Kurian.

He was back in the tunnel. The blue words hung in front of him.

“Why did Kurian die?”

Sion looked up, his tears making streaks in the dirt that caked his face. “I killed him,” he screamed in anger. “My best friend is dead because of me! Is that what you want to hear?”

The face took on a regretful expression. A forest lark sang. Sion’s eyes grew wide in panic. He raised his hand in protest and entreaty, a shout on his lips. Suddenly though, he was in a forest.

“Sion! Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I was coming too.”

“Don’t take so long next time, Kurry,” Sion said laughing. “I heard the hunters say they had seen the humans at the boundary of the territory. Are you ready?”

Sion’s spirit began to fray as he had to sit through this cruel farce yet again. As he sat vigil over his younger self for a third time, he wondered if he was losing his mind. Was that the point of this latest test? Was it actually a trap meant to wear down the mind and spirit of anyone who dared to try and conquer this dungeon?

Broyin’s hand fell limp into the dirt, a bloody sneer on his face.

A deep voice asked, “Why did Kurian die?”

Sion could barely summon the strength to reply. He knew that he had to try though. Opening and closing his mouth to moisten it, he spoke, “I’ll give you anything you want. Just tell me what to say,” Sion cried softly. “Please! Please just stop!” He tried to put strength into his last words, but it came off as exactly what it was, begging.

The face stared at him, blue words hovering in the air. Was that a sympathetic expression on its face?

He smelled decaying leaves. Mud hit the back of his neck. They found a slain deer. Kurian screamed his name, until the sounds he was making turned into wet burbles, which then turned into nothing.

“Why did Kurian die?”

Sion’s shoulders slumped, defeated. Did repeating that painful day cause measurable damage to him, or did he feel like this just because of the strain of what he was going? In either case, he had nothing left. Sometime during the last cycle of events he had soiled his real body. Even that didn’t merit an emotional reaction, though. He had lived through Kurian’s death four times, five if you counted the time it had originally happened in real life. The second time had not been easier. The third time was just as wretched, but the fourth removed any hope he had of escape. He felt the emotions just deeply as he had all of those years ago. Kurian’s screams tore at his soul just as painfully, every time.

“I can’t tell you, but no one should have to endure this,” Sion breathed. He didn’t even bother looking at the face. He knew that nothing would stop this so he quietly asked, “Please just let me die.”

A bird called.

Sion waited to hear Kurian speak. He thought about an eternity trapped, reliving the worst day of his life in an endless loop. Then he decided to not play this sick game anymore. He couldn’t control what his younger body would do, but he could control how it affected him. If he had to spend time with his best childhood friend, then he would enjoy the experience as much as possible.

“Sion! Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you I was coming too.”

Sion finally let himself feel joy at seeing his old friend.

“It’s good to see you Kurry,” he said with a smile.

What?!? That wasn’t what he had said! After reliving the events four times in a row, he knew every word, every nuance and inflection. That was definitely NOT what he had said!

“Okayyy,” Kurian said with a confused expression. “I just saw you an hour ago.”

Sion lost his focus, confused by what was happening.

“Don’t take so long next time, Kurry,” his younger self said laughing. “I heard the hunters say they had seen the humans at the boundary of the territory. Are you ready?”

Kurian looked doubtful, “Yeah. Of course, I am! But maybe we should go tomorrow or the next day. Elder Yamin is making sprangle berry pie today, and-”

Sion committed to the moment again, “You might be right.” He paused a moment, “I think that I have to go, but you could stay.” He gave a small laugh, “Maybe just save me a slice of pie.”

Sion didn’t know what was happening, but maybe, just maybe he could save his friend this time.

Kurian stared at him for a moment, confused that his friend was being so gracious, but also delighted that for once, he might avoid being caught in one of Sion’s hair brained schemes. After thinking it over, though, he just gave Sion a roguish smile, “Naw. Her pie isn’t that great anyway! Let’s go see some humans, haha.”

Sion’s spirit took a back seat again, and events unfolded the way they always had. As the two boys were walking, Sion wondered how he had forgotten what a troublemaker Kurian had been. At least half of the trouble the two boys had gotten into had been because of something Kurian himself had come up with. Mentally shaking his head, he held true to his decision to stay in the moment. He laughed with his friend, telling funny stories and lame jokes. Unlike the last four times he had relived these days, Sion’s spirit fully committed to sharing the joy of his younger self. He didn’t let the events he knew were coming tomorrow, ruin his proverbial today.

The two boys came upon the human camp and had to listen to the badger’s violent death. Sion just felt sympathy for his younger self and friend. He stood witness with them as they waited for the men to fall asleep. They ran from the camp, and his younger self grabbed the other sprite.

“Stop Kurian!”

“What,” his friend hissed back. “Why? We need to get away from here!”

Every other time, Sion’s spirit had tried to force his younger self’s body into actions that would have been unnatural at that age. Sion decided not to make the same mistake again. He thought he finally understood.

This time, he immersed his spirit in the moment. He embraced the feeling of fear that was making his younger self’s heart hammer almost audibly. He admitted to himself that he was ashamed that he had just sat by while that badger had been tortured. By surrendering to the pull of events, he found the strength to change them slightly.

“I feel horrible about what those men are doing,” young Sion said.

“I do too,” Kurian said panting.

“I can’t just let it happen. I’m going to sneak back and try to free the animals.” Sion paused, “Those men need to be stopped, though. Maybe you should run back to the Hearth Tree, and alert the warriors.” Sion’s spirit held its virtual breath. Was he really about to save his friend?

Kurian’s face was torn with indecision. He looked in the direction of the sprite community and then looked back towards the humans’ encampment. He was clearly wrestling with what he should do, but then his face firmed. He looked Sion directly in the eye.

“No,” Kurian said, shaking his head. “I was feeling the same way. Honestly, if you hadn’t said something, I was probably going to speak up in a few minutes. Like the Hearth Mother always says, it is our duty to protect the forest and its creatures. I’m going back with you.”

“You don’t have to,” young Sion said. His spirit was silently pleading for Kurian to just keep walking away. He literally couldn’t say any more though.

“Of course I do,” Kurian said with his rakish grin. “We meet every danger together until death. Or have you forgotten the oath we swore under the Hearth Tree?”

Sion’s spirit reeled with shock. He had forgotten! There was no oath more serious for their people. Years before the events Sion’s spirit was being forced to relive, the two boys had drawn blood from their fingers and mixed it with the dirt beneath the Hearth Tree. Then they had sworn eternal friendship and allegiance, with the earnestness that only children can produce. Their mothers had tanned their hides when they found out they were making oaths at such a young age, but it hadn’t deterred them. THAT was why Kurian always followed Sion on his adventures, and why Sion did the same when the situation was reversed.

The two boys started walking towards the camp. The following events played out as scripted. They were still captured. Kurian was still tortured before death, and hate still wormed its way into Sion’s young heart. A hate that would ultimately lead him to let a good man be eaten alive while he stood by and did nothing. The outcome had not changed. For the first time, though, Sion realized that maybe changing history wasn’t the point of… whatever this was. Perhaps the point was to change who he was in the present.

“Why did Kurian die?”

Sion was laying on the floor of the tunnel. He couldn’t seem to scrounge up the will to move. Or maybe he lacked the strength. The distinction didn’t seem important right now. His lips were sore, and when he ran his tongue over them, they felt like dried meat. When he first tried to respond, only a squeak came out. The face made of roots seemed to understand that he was trying, and didn’t repeat itself. It merely waited. Sion was in a daze and nothing seemed quite real. He became aware that both his health and stamina bars were perilously low. There was an icon that looked like a pile of salt next to each of them.

He mustered the strength to drink one of the healing potions Richter had given him. He barely had any rise in his health bar. The portion of the bars that weren’t filled with color weren’t just empty. They looked greyed out like nothing could fill them. When he examined the pile of salt icon, he learned what it meant. He was dehydrated. He was literally dying of thirst. Sion knew he wouldn’t survive another cycle of memories, but he accepted that.

Even though he was still impossibly weak, he tried to sit himself up. That did not work out well. When he regained consciousness, he realized that he must have passed out from the strain. After that, he decided that he could give his answer lying down. He raised his head slightly and saw that the face was still looking at him. The health potion had at least served to moisten his mouth.

“Why did Kurian die,” Sion repeated. “He died because he and I were too dumb to listen to our elders. He died because we put ourselves in a dangerous situation. And he died, because we were unlucky enough to stumble across evil men. My best friend died because of who I was, and because of who he was, and because sometimes things just fall apart. It doesn’t matter why he died. What matters is that I will remember him.” He mustered his remaining strength for what could be his last words. “So you do whatever you need to do. It does, not, matter, why my friend died. It matters how he lived.”

With those last words, Sion’s head dropped back down to the floor of the tunnel. He kept his eyes on the face made of roots, but he was completely exhausted. The face just smiled, though, and then the roots unraveled, leaving the way to the next chamber open. A prompt filled his vision.

You have just completed the secret Quest: The Wisdom to Tell the Difference. You have delved deep into your worst pain. This trial by fire did not destroy you however, it tempered you into a better version of yourself. In every life, there will be sorrow. Some choose to run from it, others assume responsibility for that which was always out of their control, many hide behind excuses, and still more try to force an outcome that is beyond their ability. You have taken a finer path. You accepted both the good and ill that you have committed. You have proven that you have the ability to face the truth. May your insight serve you well. Reward: 5,000 experience. Personal reward: Wisdom +10. Personal reward: A new Ability.

You have received the Ability: Know Thyself. You faced your internal demons and controlled them. As such, you will be much more resilient against spells or effects dealing with the Enchantment School of Magic, i.e. Charm, Daze, Compulsion.

He had barely finished reading when he heard, “Sion? Sion?! SION!!! Yoshi! Daniella! I can see him! Come quick!” Then he was moving backwards. He would move and then stop, move and then stop. He realized he was being pulled by the forgotten rope Richter had tied around his waist. He also realized for the first time that he was not about to die. The emotional drain of his ordeal had let him ignore the demands of his body. Now that he again had hope, though, that separation from reality dissolved. He began to feel every ache that his prolonged immobility had caused. Also, the dry parchment that comprised his throat felt like daggers sliding against each other when he swallowed.

In no time at all, Richter had pulled his Companion free of the tunnel. In no time at all after that, he was peppering the sprite with questions.

“Where have you been? What happened? What’s with this secret quest? Are you alright? WHY AREN’T YOU TALKING?”

Sion just stared up at his giant of a friend. Richter was sitting on the ground, half cradling his friend. The sprites legs sprawled across the floor while his back leaned against Richter’s chest. The support was welcomed because otherwise he would be probably just be lying helpless and flat on the floor. Despite that, after everything he had just gone through, Richter’s exuberance was a complete overload of the senses. Not having the strength to curse his friend’s attentive but irritating behavior, he just let the twitch in his left eye communicate that for him. He also decided to succinctly verbalize his most heartfelt desire. “Waaater,” he croaked.

Richter immediately reached into his Bag, and brought out a water skin. Placing it to Sion’s lips he let a slow trickle of water flow out.

Sion hacked and coughed up that first sip. It made the pain in his throat increase exponentially. A few scant drops were swallowed though, and some was even greedily absorbed by the tissue of his pharynx. The small amount of moisture he retained let him swallow more of the next sip, though he still coughed some up. It was as if his body refused to believe in a world that he wasn’t dying of thirst. By the third sip, he was able to keep from coughing and a few precious drops slid down his throat. When he drank a fourth time, he swallowed a whole mouthful and a sensation that could only be called bliss permeated his every cell. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief.

When he opened his eyes, he saw his three comrades staring down at him anxiously. For their benefit, he gave a weak smile. They all visibly relaxed. He closed his eyes again, and Richter put the water skin back to his lips. For a while, that’s all he did. Slowly sip water, and enjoy the sensation of bringing his body back from the brink of death. When he had his fill, he looked at the rest of his party and said, “I have been on a journey. Several in fact. And while I will eventually tell you everything that happened, I can’t right now. The experience is too fresh, and sharing it might break my heart.” Daniella reached out and held his hand, squeezing lightly.

“Besides,” Sion continued, “I seem to be lying in my own feces. Would you help me,” he asked Richter, somewhat embarrassed.

“Of course,” his friend said. Moving slowly so as not to jostle his Companion, Richter stood and cradled Sion, carrying him to the pool of water. With a wry smile, Richter said, “I was trying to be polite and not mention the smell.”

“Oh, is that why you looked like that? I thought you were just constipated,” Sion replied. Richter gave a small chuckle and started walking toward the underground lake.

Sion looked up at his best friend and thought how lucky he was that in only one lifetime, he had found two men who were like brothers to him. Then another thought occurred and he said, “If you tell anyone you carried me like this, I will literally cut your balls off.”

Richter just laughing and kept walking.