by Marc Mulero
A curt nod followed, the stain of sadness on his cheek. “What’s in your heart, my boy?”
“Can you create storms using Reach?”
“No, no. But I can push them where I need to, when circumstances are right. And tonight, I need to be here with you.”
Eres grunted to clear himself of sentiment. “Why is it that I don’t have Reach? I’m your kid.”
“Everyone has Reach, Eres. It’s just a matter of how naturally attuned we are to connecting with it. Umboro natives are generally most accustomed, while Eplons, who are obsessed with logic, are least so. It’s the way of things. What it boils down to,” Agden inched closer and brought a fist to his face, “is how easily we let go. Or in your case, how stubbornly we hold on. It’s the belief of control. Once you understand truly, in your bones, that it isn’t in our grasp, then perhaps your demands may one day transform into requests in your mind. Grace, my son, is the Umboro way, and it is preached so to find Gushda. How do you suspect we can pivot into the Eternal World? To connect with all things living?”
Eres fought hard not to roll his eyes as he normally would in his ooma’s presence, but seeing what Proctor Wudon could do, what Crow had accomplished, was beginning to change everything.
“Why not just show me the end result? I would’ve spent every day and night practicing if you had.”
Agden sighed, likely regretting that his visits had been so few and far between. “Because, Eres, then you would’ve sought it for the wrong reasons, like you do now. Jealousy, feeling left out, skipped over, are not the means to enter Gushda.”
Eres just didn’t understand. This contradicted everything. Wudon and Crow were not graceful nor kind, so why were they so naturally masterful at it?
“Even now,” Agden pinched Eres’ chin, “your body language tells me that you don’t believe.”
“I do, Fata, I just don’t agree with everything.”
“That’s okay. You were born with an inquisitive mind and quick reflexes. Even if you don’t find Reach, they will carry you far.”
“Whatever. Tell me how Reach has anything to do with espers.”
Agden displayed his dark, almost black esper in front of their faces. It pulsed a bright amber for a few heartbeats before dimming. “I would think of these as small encapsulations of the Eternal World. Experiences and memories are our greatest connections to something never-ending – a flow of time, of life. I have many generations in mine, and one day, hopefully not too soon, I will teach you to navigate your own.”
“Because an esper wielder would have to die for me to obtain one, right? Ooma told me that.”
“Something like that…”
Flashes of fluorescent light bounced off of their faces, drawing the boundless Skrol’s eyes to the receding storm in the distance.
“No,” Eres tugged on his father’s sleeve, “not yet!”
“Not yet,” Agden assured.
“Good. Tell me more about the Silent War. How do I help?”
“By denying, if anyone ever asks, that you are my son.”
“Why, Fata? I’m proud.”
“Because, Eres, if they ever got to you, then they will have won me.”
“They? Seren has more followers?”
“I’ve already said too much.”
Eres sneered in frustration. “What else can I do? Why does Seren hunt the Skrols?”
“He’s a fallen Skrol, Eres. He has abandoned our ancient ways and lost faith in the First Seer’s only message to us – that our secret must remain scattered. My Reach allows me to combat this threat by remaining shrouded, boundless, and always on the move. I was also able to obtain a great feat once, by splitting my esper.”
“So what Windel said is true…” Eres mumbled under his breath before looking up. “When you made mota’s esper, you planted part of the secret inside of it, didn’t you?”
“You are wise, my boy. I did… at great cost. Too great.” His eyes were suddenly far away, and his amber-lit esper pulsed for a short second.
“I don’t understand?”
Agden turned back to see the storm further receding.
“No!” Eres begged again. “You keep leaving me with more questions and few answers. I’m lost Fata.”
“Your ooma would have my head, Eres,” he said half-jokingly.
“I’m old enough. And I’ve learned my lesson regarding trust. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Very well, but I must catch my train after this.” He pointed to the flashing molecular bursts that were becoming less and less vibrant.
“Train?”
“Never mind. Miyannas, your mota, was brilliant and beautiful. She was far too perfect for this world… I thought that I could share the experiences that came with obtaining an esper. It was then I realized just how important my Skrol training was. We spend years knowing solitude, becoming comfortable with it, surviving on our own with our own thoughts. We are disciplined and bound to our oaths, which keeps us from falling into a terrible trap.
“Miyannas had an addictive personality, as hard as it is for me to say, and she fell victim to the vibrancy of experience within the sufias that I mended for her. She was lost in it. Like a drug addict, whenever she freed herself from the experiences within, she forgot who she was – couldn’t accept her life here on Ingora as real. Everything blended together. When I realized, Eres… it was too late. Finding medication for her was a month-long journey, and when I had returned, she was starved and withered. Your beautiful mother was lifeless on my account.
“She was so inquisitive, Eres. Like you. Can you see now why I’m so hesitant to bring you in? With all of my heart I want you here, defending the legacy of the Skrols, but I also want you to live.”
Eres took a step back in horror as the words washed over him like acid rain. His thoughts were racing, running to cling to a memory of his mother, and then to her esper, then to his grandmother to whom it now belonged.
“I blame myself. For all these years… for everything. I truly am sorry.”
Now more than ever, Eres yearned to experience the memories of Miyannas, the moments that they shared that he was too young to retain. That’s when something clicked in his head.
“Ooma, she has the same tendencies as my mota… doesn’t she?”
“Perhaps, but I’m not around enough to know.”
“She does!” Eres confirmed. “Her esper is always alive. I don’t want her to get hurt! What can I do?”
Agden took in a long breath, realizing that his next words would contradict his actions. “Spend time with her. Remind her that the world on the outside is worth living in.”
The storm was nearly out of sight at this point, and they both knew what that meant.
Agden leaned in and hugged his son tightly. “I’m proud. You’re brilliant. Stay that way, my boy.”
Eres’ voice was full of disappointment when he said, “Miss you, Fata. Protect the secret.”
He nodded back. “If more of the Silent War somehow reaches your ears, just know that they can’t catch me.” He winked. “Train hard, Eres. Farewell.”
Eres’ amber eyes were large and glassy like a puppy’s, making it that much harder for Agden to depart, but he had to.
Agden pressed his disc of compacted Glite armor to his chest, activated it, and bowed humbly to his son as the material crawled to cover his back.
“Wait!” Eres remembered before Agden clicked his impeller. “Is Proctor Vasa ‘the eye’? She would be most capable to protect someone.”
Agden’s devilish smirk reappeared.
“Alfonze Ren? Wudon? Keeper Decalus?”
The Skrol clicked his impeller at his core, and before the burst of wind sent him flying away, he said. “Keep that mind running.”
“Bastard,” Eres grumbled as he watched his father dart away in ostentatious fashion.
Chapter 12
Beneath the Black
Eres removed his soaked shoes and left the pelted orbrel at the front door. He wi
ped down his pants to ensure that they were mostly dry thanks to his impeller and orbrel, and then he turned to slam the door shut behind him. An enormous sigh followed from being free of the Ombes winds. He wanted nothing more than to hug his chair and melt into it, but that desire quickly faded. Seeing his ooma sitting cross-legged in the corner with her esper pulsing its familiar fuchsia evoked a different urge.
Lorfa was seen in a new light since hearing his father’s terrible story. She wasn’t the sturdy rock that Eres had always thought her to be now that he knew about her glaring weakness, fault, addiction.
“Spend time with her…” Agden’s voice repeated in his mind.
With a deep frown on his face, Eres dropped his bag and rolled up his sleeves as he sat opposite her. A tense brow and open-mouthed breathing made him think that she was lost deep in a horrible memory, which was nearly confirmed when tears began to trickle from her eyes.
“Ooma,” he whispered, putting one hand on her knee.
She quaked like she was being tortured, and grunted in a way that she never would have if she were awake.
“Ooma,” he repeated a little louder, now shaking her shoulder, “come back.”
She gasped for breath and her dark eyes burst open from her trance.
“Eres,” her voice was scratchy, breathing still frantic, “has your fata come and gone already?”
He nodded.
“I see.”
“Where do you go, Ooma, when you’re in there?”
“Asp elius,” she coughed and repeated in Universal, “far away.”
“Do you visit the dead who held the sufias before you?”
“They’re called Heralds, Eres… and yes, there’s a lot to see in there, but that’s not where I was tonight.”
“You were with Mota, I think. You love seeing Agden when he’s here, but when he leaves, you think of what happened to her, don’t you?” Eres dared to question.
Lorfa’s blotchy eyes perused her grandson. “He told you of your mota’s fate.”
“I’m old enough to know.”
She sighed. “You’ve been old enough for some time, but your innocence was important to your fata and me.”
“Well not to me! I’m worried about you, Ooma. You spend a lot of time inside your esper.”
She chortled. “I do, I will not deny it. But I have lived a long life, and have been bequeathed a gift that allows me to revisit memories of my family from my daughter’s perspective, and compare them to my own. It’s a beautiful thing to have such vibrant nostalgia. I am grateful for all that I have, all that I’ve lived. Do not worry about me, Eres.”
“But Fata said mot–”
“Agden says many things, but I am not Miyannas, nor am I a danger to myself. Let that be the end of it,” Lorfa said with authority. “Now, tell me about your day.”
Eres’ mouth was still open from talking, but he reluctantly shut it to start again. “Today was tough,” he admitted. “Windel… she-”
“Is a lovely girl. Your fata and I spoke of it. Do not worry that she knows of our secret.” Ooma smiled comfortingly.
Redness began to creep into Eres’ thin cheeks. He felt hot, ashamed. “She already told on us at Kor.”
Lorfa’s expression immediately changed. “About what?”
Eres’ heart was pounding. He couldn’t reveal that it was about his impeller. “That I have a live map,” he lied, “from Eplon territory. PAs are getting suspicious.”
“That shouldn’t be anything to worr-”
“Who knows what she’ll say next! I’m staying away from her from now on!” he blurted.
“Calm down. Did you speak to her to explain the importance of our privacy? She appeared to understand perfectly well yesterday.”
Eres shook his head shyly, not having the courage to tell Lorfa that he’d cut all ties with her.
“Couldn’t help herself, I guess,” she rattled on. “It’s not every day you meet the son of a Skrol. I would gracefully express yourself, Eres. Reiterate what’s at stake.”
Eres didn’t respond. He couldn’t, because it would be another blatant lie if he agreed. His terms were final, so instead he changed the subject to something he thought would bring his ooma the greatest joy.
“I’m ready to exercise my Reach, Ooma, if you have the patience to teach me again.” He bowed his head.
Lorfa beamed at the unexpected notion, but then reeled her excitement back. “Someone in Kor showed you the capabilities of tapping into Gushda haven’t they?”
“A proctor, yes. And if I’m to have any success in the class, I need to improve my connection.”
Lorfa slowly rose from her cross-legged seat, limbs wobbling like she was lifting something too heavy. “But your connection must already be great, the forest speaks to you.” She held out a hand for Eres to grab.
As he rose, he stared into Lorfa’s hopeful eyes, but knew the truth of it.
“What did you feel when the owins came to you?”
“Nothing, Ooma. I’m sure of it.”
“But you said they left the forest to connect with you. That does not happen without Reach.”
Eres looked away like he was in pain. Something was amiss. He felt it in his gut, but couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. So instead, he straightened and spent the rest of his night in his chair trying to find what his ooma had preached.
The next months of Kor were tough, particularly War Tech and Generations, where his former friends were. Windel had approached Eres with tears in her eyes, whispering an apology during Proctor Vasa’s booming lecture, but when it was time to duel, Eres turned his back on her. She reached for his arm, her entire face nearly a frown, only to have him sharply swing it away.
Vasa noticed almost immediately, as they were the only two who hadn’t begun sparring. She sheathed her lavish Crule blade and approached the heated situation tentatively, watching her students closely.
Windel pressed the button to extend her blunt sparring blade and loudly whispered, “Proctor Vasa’s coming, Eres. At least turn around and en garde.”
Eres was evidently annoyed, looking away from both his proctor and his old crush. Images of his father caught mid storm due to Windel’s mouth dispelled any lingering guilt or longing.
Vasa raised her chin and planted two feet. “You two are usually the most entertaining to spectate, maybe even good enough to one day land in the arena of the Colliding Spheres. Tell me, what could’ve come between you?”
Windel covered her mouth to hide a sob, knowing that if Eres was willing to make their drama public then the friendship really was over.
“Alright,” Herim responded to the silence. “Not my business, I understand. However, I do need to keep you two training, so I’m going to have to split you up. Ms. Freed,” she said softly, “go ahead to the lavatory and clean yourself up. I will assign you a new partner in the interim. Eres, you can come with me.
“Cheer up, you two. Perhaps it will sharpen your skills further to duel different styles.” She nodded her head for Eres to follow. “Nuganzia, here, is particularly deadly. Use your grace when calculating against this brute.”
Eres looked up to see the proctor wink at him.
Grace… sure, every Umboro preaches it. But this seemed like she was trying to tell me something. She said it like Ooma would…
They both watched Nuganzia manhandle the poor student put up against her. One defensive swing of her blade shook her opponent’s entire body, and before he knew it, had his collar pulled and a knee in his stomach. The next three mock Crule strikes left the armor red and blinking. The duel was done before it started. This was just a show.
“Come to bring me a more challenging match, proctor?” Nuganzia questioned haughtily.
The downed student peered at Vasa with relief.
“I think you’ll find each other particularly challenging.” Vasa inched Eres forward with a hand on his back. “I’ll be watching closely.”
Eres pulled out his dueling weapon and sc
anned the Swul who was a mesh of black and purple from her Glite armored shins to her half-braided hair. A ball of slender muscle with a fierce attitude, she eyed right back.
“The boy at the bottom of the food chain. I recall. You were preyed upon by Crow on Meeting Day. Lucky for you there were larger beasts in the sea in your time of need. But not today.” She raised her stained black sword.
Eres channeled his anger left by Windel and ran a hand through his silky hair. “I think you’ll find that I’m a fast learner.” He raised his own weapon.
Vasa smirked as she backed up to let the two have at it.
Weeks later, Factions class was particularly interesting. The room dared to venture through the Verglas Sphere - a giant sheet of thin ice built upon layers and layers of snow. Proctor Ren worked the magic he often did with his octor, transporting the students to somewhere foreign – so much so that they could almost smell the brisk air.
He paused the footage and asked, “Do you notice something amiss?”
Students leaned left and right to glance at their three-dimensional projected surroundings. Some were squinting to better find what was being asked of them, others moved their feet to inspect the snow beneath them. This went on for several minutes, all the while Proctor Ren relished in their intrigue.
“Give up?” Ren finally said with a grin as he perused the third aisle, his trinkets jangling about his robes. He suddenly looked down and feigned surprise. “Oh look!”
All eyes fell on the small but deep hole in the otherwise flawless surface.
“Could it have been caused by a single piece of hail, or some other temporal anomaly? Perhaps. But maybe there’s something we’re missing. Life on the other side. Hm? With that, class, I leave you to ponder. Dismissed!” he said happily.
Time had made Eres comfortable with Ren, regardless of whether he was his father’s ‘eye’. He confided in the walking traveler’s journal about many things, and today, he was going to stretch that trust a few inches further. Reigned in due to his previous mishaps, he thought this one out. Eres knew that other families held octors, and that even an orphan can get his hands on one if he was somehow the prized child in the house. Tactically, he waited last to pack up his belongings like he often did, and then when the coast was clear, he approached.
