A rope of unknown thickness began to unravel in Cole’s mind, one strand at a time. He was now within a part of himself he had never been before. He felt himself fumbling in the dark, unable to see where he was going or what was around him. He could feel something tight and massive however. It was very close.
“When you are ready, find your center. If you cannot find it, then build it. There is no wrong way.”
Cole didn’t know up from down, let alone where any sort of center was. Thoughts and memories swam about him, filling the void with noise and rippling emotions. He shoved them away to rid himself of the distraction, but that only birthed more thoughts and a cloud of frustration.
“Embrace not the hammer, but the wind.”
Alvani’s breeze caressed its way through Cole’s mind, taking with it the clouds and flaking off fragments of his thoughts. The wind felt good. It was the perfect temperature and touched all the right places.
“Create your center.”
Cole finally understood. He had never been to the center of his mind before because he had never built it. All this time he had been trying to find a place that didn’t exist. He felt a spiky knot of annoyance pop into existence, but the wind persisted, soothing and unwinding him.
Cole had no idea why, but he felt a circular stone room an appropriate place to start. A domed ceiling seemed fitting, so he imagined one into being. There was no need for fancy embellishments or carvings, so he didn’t make any. The room was plain, yet the more he focused on it, the more details became apparent; the clarity of the air, the warmth and solidarity of the stone, and the steady breathing that came from above the domed ceiling. Curious, Cole brought his awareness to the dome, noticing a cone of black stone descending from its center. The cone was covered in millions of tiny glass bumps, which after closer inspection turned out to be separate memories playing over and over again inside their teeming shiny marbles. Careful not to lose himself, Cole took a deep breath.
A great rush of air came from somewhere above the ceiling. As he exhaled, a seam appeared around the upper portion of the cone, releasing a blanket of water. The liquid rolled and crawled its way down, dribbling over every memory marble on the way. At the point of the cone it shot down in a perfect line and splattered onto a podium. The room was peaceful and relaxing, but what was it all for?
“Listen to the whims of your soul. There is no wrong way.”
Taking a guess, Cole felt that the best thing to do would be to put something on the podium. The water had to be coming down on it for a reason. But what would he put there? He searched the room for clues, though he knew he wouldn’t find anything else because he hadn’t built anything else. But maybe he didn’t need to build this time. He looked back to the stream now pooling on the podium. He approached the center of the room and ran his fingers through the water. It was the best thing he’d ever felt. Aches and itches that he didn’t even know he had were massaged away, as though the liquid were a magic all its own. His hand felt light and strong, as if he traded it for a newer, better one. He wanted to bathe his entire being into the water, but there was no way for him to fit his whole body on the podium.
The answer came to him with a flutter of echoing laughter from the domed ceiling. This was his mind, his rules, there was no wrong answer. Abandoning his body, he condensed himself into an ingot of consciousness. He inspected his new form, finding it hot and angry, brittle and blind. It felt as if it were made of baked layers of every bit of stress he’d accumulated over his entire life. Acknowledging the ingot was wearisome, and too hot to hold for long. The room breathed faster as Cole rushed himself to the podium. Steam hissed and howled, filling the room with a dense fog. Cole felt a layer of stress come loose from the ingot. The ceiling exhaled, taking with it his evaporated tension.
With the next breath, the water didn’t just creep down, but rather it poured in an eager current, splashing and gushing over his molten ire. The relief was immediate. Now loose, the top layer of stress melted away entirely, peeling away from Cole’s mind in another cloud of steam. Another breath and the fog was gone.
Cole repeated the process again and again. Just when he thought there was nothing else, he’d let a little more water down and yet another layer would come loose. It felt as though he had been wearing a dozen layers of too-tight clothes, only apparent with their absence. With each cycle of his breathing, he felt lighter, more open, more aware of himself. He let go of everything that tied him to the world outside his mind. He released not just the negative things, but the positive things as well. He was in such a state of profound neutrality that he could pick up and put down any part of himself that he wished. Now though he would put them all down. He was in his center.
In the blank of his thoughts, Cole felt his curiosity take root like a little flower. It wanted him to leave this place and return to Alvani. After acknowledging this curious part, it was he that decided to oblige it. He was loathe to leave his stone room, but he knew he could return whenever he wanted.
Cole opened his eyes, feeling the gentle vibrations of the wind traveling through Gale’s body and into his legs.
Alvani greeted him with a warm smile. “Welcome back, Warrior of The Sill.”
“How long?” Cole asked, straightening his aching back.
“If I had to guess, it was more than an hour, but less than two,” she replied, unconcerned.
Guilt and worry blossomed in Cole’s blank mind. He felt guilty that he had been up here relaxing while the rest of the unit had been running flat out. He was worried about Goran because he hadn’t checked up on him in so long. Cole recognized and appreciated each of these parts. They each had their place, and valid reasons for making themselves heard. He assured them that they would be addressed. The parts drifted to the back of his mind, still connected by a strand of significance.
Cole exhaled, realizing he had slipped back into his center for a moment. “That was…I don’t know how to describe it. I feel different. More open. More aware…of everything. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after that. I don’t think I want to be.”
“You were a fine person before you joined me on Gale’s saddle. Why would you want to change who you were?” Alvani asked, stroking Gale’s feathers. A deep purr rumbled under their legs.
Cole could tell it was a loaded question, and he felt a fizzling annoyance rise up because of it. This irritated part didn’t much appreciate being treated like a child. Cole acknowledged the needy emotion, coddled it for a second, then sent it on its way. This conversation didn’t need that part of him.
Cole noticed how long it was taking for him to respond. “Sorry, I’m just…”
“You are using muscles of your mind that you’ve never used before,” Alvani said, with pride beaming in her voice. “Like anything else, it gets easier with practice. Though the opposite is also true. If you neglect the exercises you just learned, they will fade from your mind as a fleeting memory from another life. This skill will give you immense control over yourself, and can improve every aspect of your life. Decide if it is valuable to you. If it is, then hold on to it. Use it.”
Cole took her words with no filter or bias. Her measure of his worth resonated with Cole’s own pride, and he instinctively stifled the emotion, worried that it would open a door for other emotions to spill through.
Alvani squinted as she inspected him, leaving Cole with a feeling that she had just sensed him hiding his pride. “While self-regulation is important, there are certain parts of yourself that you may not want regulated. Your pride in well-earned accomplishments for example, ought to be embraced and appreciated. It’s not an exact art, and you will only have yourself to answer to. There is no wrong way.”
Cole nodded. “I will remember that, but a part of me is worried that I might end up forgetting from time to time. Life on Aeneria is…very busy. I could easily get distracted.”
“Which is why you must practice this new skill as often as you can,” she said, looking him square in the
eye. “As often as possible you must keep yourself in a neutral state. Let the good things fill you without filter. Your other emotions may only enter your mind with your permission. If you can master this art, then you can master yourself. Even the parts that you are ashamed of.”
Memories of Cole’s Rage flickered, along with the disgrace that he associated with it. With some difficulty, he went into his stone room and poured the cleansing waters over his shame. He emerged from his center after cycling through the process two more times.
He returned to Gale’s back finding Alvani waiting with a patient satisfaction on her face. “It gets easier, I promise. Now, if you wouldn’t mind joining your unit down in the pass.” She turned and patted Gale on the neck. “He’s ready, bring him down.”
“Thanks, but I’ll get myself down,” Cole said through a mischievous grin.
Alvani held up a finger, halting him. “I have just one more nugget of advice before you go.”
“What is it?” Cole asked, eager and open.
“Do not shackle your bond-brother. Goran is changing, just as you yourself are changing. Let him breathe. Let him grow. Just a suggestion, from one friend to another.”
“Thank you, Master Alvani,” Cole said, dissolving Goran’s mental leash before she finished speaking. She was right. Goran had something in him that he needed to deal with. Cole had no right to restrain his friend.
Cole stood and kicked off from the saddle, leaving Alvani’s wind bubble and letting the air crash into him like a waterfall. As expected, his Fear of heights chimed in, which he brushed aside with his confidence in Wisdom. He allowed himself to drop for a moment, feeling something very odd throughout his body. For the first time in his life he was enjoying the rush of freefall. After releasing his morbid Fear of falling, he felt a wild excitement explode inside his chest, filling him to the brim with a reckless rush. Realizing he was holding his breath, Cole emptied his lungs in a long, laughing bellow.
The ground was close now. Spinning, he flipped and wobbled onto his back as his body stopped accelerating, feeling as if he were on a bed of gushing water. He took a moment to appreciate Oberon, whose blooming colors seemed to match Cole’s euphoria perfectly. It was odd, how not too long ago something like Oberon would have dropped his jaw to the floor. Lately, however, he had taken the looming jewel for granted, as if its magic and ever-changing hues were as common as the air he breathed.
The mountains on either side of the pass rushed into his periphery. He drank Oberon in just a little longer before flipping onto his stomach. The ground was closer than he expected, but not so close that he was out of options. His first instinct was to use his Wisdom to guide him to a soft landing on the trail, but that seemed like too many steps for such a simple problem. From the center of his mind he called his Rage forth. As if it was waiting for an excuse to explode, his Rage charged at him. Without hesitation it began smashing and shaping his consciousness to fit its own chaotic melody. Cole greeted the Rage, granting it not what it wanted, but what was needed for the situation.
Cole’s munisica blinked into existence as the shroud snapped up to his elbows and knees. More than enough to survive the landing. Inventorying his mind, he found Goran high above him on a cliff, still blitzing his way alongside the unit. He felt Eliza farther up the pass. She was so engrossed in her running that she barely noticed him.
Cole collided with the paved trail in an explosion of rocks and sparks, a deafening report echoing throughout the valley pass. Without a moment’s pause, he shot out of the rubble and sprinted towards his unit. The Rage sharpened his senses, and behind him he could hear the debris still cutting through leaves and clattering over the pavement. He would have to come back someday and repair the damage.
He gave Eliza a mental ping, letting her know that he would be coming up behind them. Gauging her distance, he realized he was barely gaining on her. Cole uncorked just a little more of his Rage until the shroud crawled up to his shoulders and thighs. Parts of his hair sharpened into blades, bouncing off his scalp with little clicks.
“Must be nice, flying halfway to the city while us commoners slog it down in the dirt,” Sitra chided, swiping at him with one of her ebony claws as he joined the unit.
Instead of ducking, Cole brought his own munisica to hers, blocking it with a crack like a gunshot. “Had I known you guys were running this slowly I would have come down sooner. Have you been jogging like this the whole time or are you just getting tired?” Cole took a playful jab at Sitra’s legs.
Sitra yelped and darted ahead. “Who lit a fire in your blood? Did Alvani give you some of her liquor again?”
Eliza bloomed into Cole’s mind: “You do feel odd. Your song is different.”
Cole laughed, part of him enjoying their curious glances. “She gave me something better than liquor, though I do feel like I could use a drink. You guys think Oberon City has a pub or something?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. Not in a city full of Wisdom followers,” Valen said, running nearer to Cole. “Even if they did we are not here for leisure and revelry. We represent The Sill. Not to mention we are awaiting trial. It would not be wise to make fools of ourselves before we meet the Celestial Council.”
“Always the pragmatist,” Lileth said, meeting Cole’s eyes with a sideways glance. “I for one would rather enjoy myself before facing judgment. I will join you, Cole. We shall dance our way to the gallows.”
“You’re not doing any dancing without me,” Sitra butted in. “What if one of the locals gives you some trouble? You’ll need someone with some backbone to throw down. Count me in. Liza you’re coming right?”
“Oh, I suppose so,” Eliza responded in an airy tone.
“Be it on your heads then,” Valen huffed, rushing ahead.
The unit sprinted down the trail, teasing and jabbing at Valen all the while. Seeing Valen getting upset, Cole suggested that they dial it back before they digress into another prank war. However, as Sitra pointed out, the angrier Valen became, the faster the unit ran. After a couple hours, the passing trees and rocks were nothing more than a blur as they raced down the pass like five bolts of lightning. Somewhere far above, Cole felt Goran trailing behind.
The captain of the Firedancer had estimated a hard day’s march to Oberon City, but he had not known what the unit was capable of. With their Wisdom lightening their Rage-fueled legs and Alvani’s Passion trickling down from the sky, they charged through the pass in half a day. The towering valley walls opened up, revealing the other side of the mountain range. They had a good view of the land below them, which was so verdant that it looked as if they now gazed upon a rolling green ocean. Farther out, there were rows upon rows of pyramid-shaped structures with lights running up their lengths. Farther still glimmered a body of water that ran out to the horizon. A massive dark cloud hung just under Oberon, which greeted them with a warm cocktail of ruby and tangerine hues.
The road split into several capillaries leading down the foothills to various suburbs. Valen halted and the unit fell in around him, awestruck by the sights.
“That’s the biggest city I’ve ever seen!” Sitra gasped, summoning a crystalline telescope. “There must be thousands of people living down there.”
Concussing thumps sounded from above as Gale’s wings masked Oberon from view. The creature released a cheerful chirp before landing on a gravelly patch next to the road.
“There are over one hundred thousand living in the city. And a comparably great number living within the temple itself,” Alvani said, floating down from Gale’s saddle and joining them. “If need be, the temple can house the entire population of the Dark Side, as it did once in the twilight of the last war. The Celestial Council awaits us at the very top.”
Cole scanned the forest out to the ocean. Even after sharpening his vision with Wisdom, he couldn’t find the temple. It should be obvious if it could hold that many people. “Sitra, can I use your telescope when you’re finished? I want to see the temple.”
/> “You mean you can’t see the giant black thing out in the ocean?” Sitra tossed her jade telescope to him. “It’s the biggest thing out there, meat-brain.”
Cole snatched the lens, then dropped it to the ground. What he had mistaken for a massive storm cloud was in fact a structure. Even from their elevated position he had to look up to see the entire thing. The temple was made of concentric cylinders, the fattest on the bottom and the smallest on top, giving it the appearance of a monolithic wedding cake. It was most certainly taller than the Fangshards. It looked as if it were made from Aeneria’s very bones.
“How?” Cole asked. “How can something like that exist? Even with all the technology and magic in this world, something like that couldn’t possibly be made by people.”
“It was far before my time,” Alvani said. “But our records show that it was indeed made by Aenerians, though it was crafted in an age when our magic was wild and raw. Things such as the temple and the floating obelisks are made from an ancient magic that none on the dark side could hope to replicate today. Our power comes from the soul flies and the residue that collects on Oberon whilst they Travel. Thanks to you Cole, the soul flies have returned, and so will our strength, though it will take dozens of cycles for Oberon to shine as brilliantly as it once did.”
Cole felt their eyes on him, but his attention was on Oberon itself. Even as Alvani described it, he could see clouds of sapphire-blue, blood-orange, and honey-yellow, all drifting steadily towards the opalescent moon above them.
“Master Alvani, did you take part in the Battle at Oberon Temple?” Valen asked, pointing towards the obsidian temple.
“No,” she said, gazing out to the temple. “I was but a child when The Three besieged us. I remember hiding in the lower levels with others too young or ill to fight. Roth and Chiron were in the battle, alongside Varka’s forces.” She turned to Cole, giving him a significant look. “Cole, do you remember who Varka was?”
Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers Page 24
