Underestimated Affinities

by Matthew Scarcella

  ***

  The three of us sit solemnly on the cliff to the right of the waterfall. We overlook the gorge and the bodies left in our wake; two floating in the gorge itself, and two on land. Nothing’s been said between us for the past two hours.

  “This was supposed to be a nice, relaxing day,” Celestra says over the roar of the waterfall, breaking the silence amongst us.

  “So much for that,” Alexyo mocks. He pats me on the back. “How are you holding up, Selv?”

  That is a good question. How am I holding up? Physically? I’m fine. But mentally, and emotionally? I have no idea.

  “Well, let’s see. I just got in my first real battle, learned how to offensively wield my affinities, found these odd blades and used them to kill two living beings, and I assisted in torturing and killing a third.” I grimace as the image of the girl’s decaying wings crosses my mind again, their blackened remains flaking down toward the surface of the lake, turning to nothing as they dissolve… her face scrunched in unending pain. “How do you think I feel?”

  Celestra nods sympathetically. She’s always been the most compassionate and reassuring among our little group, even with her occasional outbursts. She even has a few pets and takes breaks from her scouting missions to nourish the wildlife around her.

  “I think that you’re feeling empowered, frightened, and ashamed.” She glances away from me as she finishes her thought. “All at the same time.” She surveys the environment around us before continuing. “It’s difficult, coming into your own. Even more-so to be the one to take another’s life. But you just have to remember we didn’t ask for this. We were attacked. Personally, I don’t enjoy using my affinities to cause damage either.”

  Alexyo shrugs halfheartedly at her remarks. “Hey man,” he says, “At least you’re not a sucker like the rest of the city thought you were.”

  “At least there’s that,” I snort derisively. He’s a good person at heart and a great friend, but sometimes he can be a bit dimwitted.

  “I’m still tired.” Celestra says while reclining her head on a patch of grass that she’s enticed to grow longer than its surrounding brethren. “Shall we rest up a bit more before heading home?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” I reply. A thought occurs to me at the mention of home. I really don’t want to deal with the Council again right now… so, of course, a stupid idea comes to me. “Hey, so. How about we move the bodies somewhere and just not tell the Council about this little incident?”

  “Won’t they notice your new weapons, Selv?” Celestra asks.

  “Oh, right. Well, I can just wash the blood off and if anyone asks, that part can be true. I did find them here after all. We just don’t need to tell them about the fighting,” I say, persuading them. Celestra tilts her head to the side, wondering if anything could possibly go wrong with the plan.

  “Sounds like a great plan to me.” Alexyo laughs gleefully. He never likes dealing with the Council members either. “All in favor of keeping our mouths shut when we get back to Belarin?”

  All three of us raise our hands.

  CHAPTER XI

  QUESTIONS UNANSWERED

  The journey home was long and quiet; eerily so. Or perhaps that’s just how I perceived it.

  I remember that Alexyo and Celestra were speaking in hushed whispers once we left Makoro, but I haven’t heard them for hours. I think I’m just wrapped up in my own head right now.

  I mean, I can’t believe we just buried four bodies. Up until today, this was unthinkable for me.

  I took a final look at all their faces before Alexyo pushed them into the pit and covered them up. Bloodstained and downtrodden, a look of abject terror reflected in the gaze of all eight glazed-over eyes, silently asking me how they managed to succumb to fatal wounds from the likes of us. Their leader, soaking wet from his concluding plunge into the gorge, dripped water and bright red blood onto his companions, weaving the ends of their destinies together like a web. It was a mortifying scene; one that will be etched into my memory until the day I die.

  What was worse was having to siphon the leader’s blood out of the gorge. We couldn’t leave a noticeable red tinge in the water. As the only water wielder in the group, the task fell on me.

  I stood on the outskirts of the gorge, my feet immersed in a shallow amount of water, which admittedly was refreshingly cool. I stared at the blood floating across the surface, creating a smooth and pristine layer of unpleasant sheen. Interacting with the alkali earth metals nearby caused the density of the blood to change, making it heavier than the density and specific gravity of the rest of the water in the gorge. Sinking as it crept toward me, the bright red blood looked like tendrils crawling along the length of a stubborn vine. This quick reaction caused me to exert more effort and siphon out more water than I anticipated.

  Still, all things considered, it didn’t take long. After maybe five minutes of transporting the blood-saturated water, half into a nearby patch of grass, and the remainder on top of the makeshift grave, Alexyo and Celestra finished up the process for me. Alexyo covered the bodies and filled in the ditch, creating a smooth layer of earth above it. Celestra then set to work and finished it off by utilizing the nutrient-enriched water to sprout a bed of moss concealing the grave, and then she grew what could only be described as a piece of art over the deceased.

  A fenestra tree burst into existence in a matter of seconds, towering at least fifteen meters above my head. Celestra made use of the hollow points in the branches and trunks as a sort of trellis, weaving an intricate display of vines and budding flowers in and out, across the entirety of the tree. The flowers at the bottom of the tree blossomed in dark pinks, purples, and blues, absorbing the most nutrients from the blood. The colors of the rest of the flowers faded little by little as they ascended the trunk of the tree, first turning into bright pastels creeping along the branches, and finally coalescing into washed-out pinks and whites, laced around and contrasting the stark green leaves at the tree’s peak. Watching her work is always a magnificent sight to behold.

  “Selvyn?” I hear my name called in the distance.

  “Hmm?” I respond automatically, not taking in my surroundings.

  “Stop flying,” Celestra says to me. I don’t realize why she wants me to stop, so I continue a bit further before she yells at me, “Stop!”

  I halt in my tracks. “Why are you yelling at me? What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that you almost flew into the outer wall.”

  I face forward again to verify that she’s not insane, and what do you know, we have arrived at Belarin already. I reach out with my hand and feel the rough texture of the wall, crumbling some of the earth between my fingers. The coarseness of it brings me back to reality.

  “Huh,” I wonder aloud. “I suppose I was on auto-pilot. Thank you.”

  “No problem,” she responds.

  “Not like you would have died,” Alexyo quips. “Perhaps just stunned for a few seconds in a free fall before righting yourself.”

  “Right,” I say. “No worries there. Nothing like a good head injury to brighten up the day.”

  “Exactly!” he retorts.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Celestra shake her head and fly over to the nearest guard tower entrance. As she drifts further away, I swear I can hear her mumble “Idiots” under her breath.

  “Come on,” I say to Alexyo, “Let’s get going. I want to go talk to Safeyya before I eat dinner.”

  He flies into the guard tower ahead of me, unclasps the two attachments on his shirt, and removes the article of clothing. Dripping in sweat, he puts it under his arm. He debriefs the guards on duty, Melandria and Klaryk in this case, about our trip and how uneventful it was. We decided to stick with the same story and not mention the fight to anyone, except my family members. When he’s finished talking, he walks over to sit beside Celestra as they wait for my turn.

  “Good day, sirs,” I say in greeting as Melandria and K
laryk walk toward me.

  “Hello, smartass,” Melandria retorts, grinning mischievously as she notices the blades in my hands. “My, my, it seems like someone brought themselves home a little present. We thought we sensed some unique type of metal heading in this direction.” She nods over at Klaryk, who then tilts his head and inspects them without moving closer. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “We are not at liberty to confiscate these artifacts from your possession. However, our duty is to inspect them before we let you leave, and then to make sure that you follow up with the Commander of our army, who, fortunately for you, is your sister.”

  I walk over to the inspection table and place the blades upon it, immediately missing the feel of the cool metal in my grasp.

  Klaryk and Melandria walk over to the table and go about inspecting the blades. Each of them spends a few moments with their hands hovering over their respective blade before moving.

  They both crouch down closer to the table; Melandria looks over every centimeter of the blade while Klaryk opts to use another sense, and begins sniffing the metal — most likely trying to determine the composition of metals that fused to make the blade.

  “Fascinating,” Klaryk speaks up, addressing Melandria in his standard subdued tone. Oddly enough, every time I hear him speak in his monotone voice, it’s as if he’s about to deliver a lengthy monologue. Thankfully, he never has, at least not in my presence, as he’s usually rather quiet. “Have you noted the composition of the metals within?”

  “Yes,” she responds. “For the most part, anyway. There is something there I am unable to discern. And you?”

  “I concur. There is one component I am unable to identify.” He moves both hands away from the handle and hovers over the three blades protruding from it. After a minute of silence, a look of consternation appears on his face. “Are you able to —?”

  Something goes unspoken between them; she shakes her head in response. “No, I’m not.”

  I tilt my head to the side and look over at my friends out of my peripheral vision. The two of them stood and moved closer to watch the inspection, peeking their heads around a wall. Not very subtly, I must say. Alexyo’s head rests upon Celestra’s, and both of them shoot me a perplexed glare, signaling they have no idea what’s going on either. At least it’s not just me that’s unaware.

  I decide to speak up. “What are you two discussing?”

  “Well,” Melandria replies, “There is a trace amount of an element in these blades that we are unable to recognize. It is quite difficult to detect at all.” She faces Klaryk before continuing. “It’s unlikely… but do you think that these might be —?”

  “It’s possible,” he shrugs. “Let’s try wielding, shall we?”

  She nods in response and then faces the weapon again, and each of them grasps one of the hilts with both of their hands.

  Two agonizingly slow minutes drag on, and neither of the blades has moved from its place on the inspection table. Melandria’s face is contorted with frustration, and Klaryk’s back has begun to arch inward, as he uses all his strength attempting to lift the blade, pulling up and back from his shoulders.

  Sighing in resignation, Melandria releases her hold on the weapon and shrugs in dismissal. “I’m not able to manipulate the metals within, nor am I even able to lift it. It’s ludicrously heavy. How were you able to lift these at all, Selvyn?”

  I don’t have an answer for her, so I simply shrug the question off.

  Klaryk doesn’t seem to be faring any better than she was. Grunting exasperatedly, he releases his hold on the blade in front of him and throws his hands above his head, infuriated.

  “Preposterous,” he remarks. “I’ve never met a metal I couldn’t manipulate, nor a weapon I could not wield. As we thought, Melandria, these are no ordinary blades… I — I believe these weapons are the Blades of Zulena.”

  She steps closer. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course not. But, do you have any other explanation as to why he is able to carry them, and we are not?”

  “No,” she laments. “I’m not sure what’s going on there. It is certainly strange.” Well, if I wasn’t alert before, this train of conversation has definitely piqued my interest.

  “What exactly are the Blades of Zulena?” I ask Melandria.

  “Well, I’ll let Klaryk explain.”

  He clears his throat before beginning. “To start, they’re not basic blades, as you must have surmised after watching us inspect them. In fact, they’re a special type of weapon, as you see that there is not one, but three prongs protruding from the handle, the longest of which is in the middle. They’re called Sais. So, naturally, we should refer to them as the Sais of Zulena.

  “They serve as a multi-purpose weapon, as they can equally be used defensively, as well as offensively, in close combat. This pair, in particular, is quite different than the general weapon, as the protruding prong appears to be excessively sharp, more-so than other Sais I have seen. Also, rumor has it that they are able to be imbued with other elemental affinities as well.

  “So, the belief is that Zulena was the first Metal Tune and that she created these weapons herself, and utilized them to her advantage in battle, enabling her to be proficient in short-range combat, as metal users back then generally preferred long-range attacks. Hand-to-hand combat used to be left to earth wielders, mostly. Anyway, I digress.

  “So, she created these weapons utilizing her own secret blend of metals, and they were supposedly only able to be wielded by a select one or two non-Metal Tunes after her death centuries ago. I don’t exactly know why this was… or is, but how exactly they came to be in your possession may be more enthralling than you would lead us to believe.”

  So much for never hearing a monologue from him. I should make a mental note to retract that little nugget of information from my memory.

  “So.” Melandria looks at me inquisitorially, arching one of her eyebrows to emphasize her interest. “How, pray tell, did you manage to find these weapons?”

  I recounted a more boring story for them about our time in Makoro. I simply mentioned eating over there, instead of eating before getting there, and that we were fooling around about the waterfall and in the gorge. I did mention finding the weapons in the small cave behind a liquid-like filmy substance but left out everything about the foes we encountered there.

  Klaryk raises his eyebrows at me finding them so easily, and not-so-subtly uses his affinity to hit Melandria in the back with a metal pin. She slaps his arm in response before addressing me, but he continues to stare at me with apprehension.

  “Hmm.” She cocks her head to the side, processing the information for a moment before continuing. “And what exactly made you think ‘oh, hey, let me walk under the waterfall into a cave that I didn’t know existed there,’ was that sheer dumb luck?”

  “Uh, well —” I stammer.

  Celestra interrupts my excuse. “Actually, that would be our fault.” I turn around and see her walk out from behind the wall, Alexyo still peeking out from around it at the moment, but following in her wake once she starts moving toward us. She glares at me furtively as she meanders over.

  “Alexyo and I may have gotten a bit too aggressive during our play fighting. You see, we were attempting to toughen him up a bit more — he’s always whining about training and personally, I think he’s quite weak as he is.” This comment receives a vigorous nod from Melandria. I’m not surprised. Most of Belarin thinks that way, and except for everything leading up to the past few weeks, she isn’t entirely wrong to view me in such a light.

  Celestra stealthily elbows Alexyo in the ribs, who picks up on her train of thought. “Yeah, I mean, we were just tossing a bunch of attacks at him, and all he wanted to do was dodge them. You would think that being over a gorge, he’d at least toss some water around. Anyway, after a bit of antagonizing he started using the water to defend himself, but only to stop my fireballs from scorching his face. We were already toward the bottom of the water
fall at that point, and I sent out one really strong blast. He blocked it well enough, but the resulting force sent him flying back through the waterfall and into what he found to be the cave. He didn’t come out for a bit, but when he did, he had the weapons and showed us where they were inside the small cavern.”

  “Right,” Celestra continues. “After that, we just decided to float around for a bit in the gorge, then we relaxed above the waterfall and flew back home.”

  “Well, alright,” Melandria says. “We’ll have to send a metal wielder out to Makoro to verify that these weapons used to reside there, and if we find that they didn’t, you’ll be subject to more questioning. However, for now, you two are free to go home, as we are unfortunately not allowed to keep the weapons. Klaryk will sign you back in and take care of the formalities.”

  “What about me?” I ask her.

  “As I mentioned earlier, you have to check these in with Safeyya. I have something I need to speak to her about anyway, so I will escort you back to your home. My shift is ending momentarily, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “Sure,” I reluctantly agree. Better to just take these things in stride than fight back most of the time. I look over at Celestra and Alexyo and nod appreciatively. “Have a good night. I’ll see you guys later this week.”

  “Goodnight,” Celestra responds.

  “Night, man!” Alexyo yells as they both jump out of the window and fly toward home.

  About ten minutes pass by wherein I sit awkwardly on the window ledge, listening to Melandria and Klaryk pace back and forth, both of them anxious to finish their shifts.

  The new guards show up, one of whom is Felix — the guard that brought me into my meeting with the Council and let us leave Belarin this morning.

  “Hey, Klaryk,” he grumbles, “You two have a good night.” He turns around and notices me. Joy. “Oh, hey squirt! In trouble again, are we?”

  I stare at him in response, not wanting to dignify his sarcasm with a remark of any sort, but Melandria picks up on his antagonism and comes to my aid.