by Marc Mulero
“But-”
“No buts!” Agden swept away a patch of leaves so he could take a knee. “This is still the time to listen. With Wudon gone h-”
“Are they going to kill him?” Eres blurted.
Agden laughed. “They would be glaring fools if they did. If the Skrols were to lose this war, Wudon would be the last to go. Trust me.”
“Why?”
“Because the Dark esper contains horrors neither of us could even begin to imagine, generations of torment that Wudon, and Wudon alone is forced to manage. It’s for these reasons that his survival is critical, even for Seren. He surely knows this… to extract Wudon’s sufias last.
“Anyway… with Wudon captured so close to Dolseir,” he spat in anger, as if saying the words caused the pain of their missteps to reignite, “my scent was immediately caught. The protection that we’ve created for one another is broken, Eres. Done. We are ruined.”
“Fata?”
“We used our combined Reach to conceal ourselves from Eplon tech, anti-Reachers, the works, all so we can covertly watch over you. Now, unfortunately, that time has passed.”
“You can just create another protection, Fata. I could learn. Or… you must have other friends that can help. We can go far away and start again.”
Agden shook his head. “Son, I’m as good as captured. And to drag you deeper into harm’s way, well.” He laughed heatedly at the thought.
“No way, you’ve been boundless since before I can remember. You’ll always be able to outrun anyone. I know it in my heart.”
“Oh, my boy, to be young and full of hope. You make me better, Eres. Always have.” He cleared his throat. “I once thought what you say to be true… but shiders have been soaring down to my coordinates, twice now, with hordes of soldiers loosed on my tail. How Seren amassed such resources, or why, is beyond me.”
Eres scratched his chin. “Isn’t the why obvious?”
Agden broke eye contact. “No, son, it isn’t.”
“I don’t understand. Have you ever tried to reason with Seren?”
Agden gazed around their bubble, looking as if there was something amiss. He then returned to face his kin. “In time, all of this will become clear, and you will have to make your own choices. The first of which is now… no, shh. Do not protest. Only listen. There is no time.”
“But Fata-” Eres was cut off. He felt a lump in his throat like he was going to cry. Nerves were making his fingers tremble. Why? Why was this happening? What was so urgent that had his father so upset?
“Do you, Eres Way, promise to protect and uphold the Skrol secret for the entirety of your life?”
Eres wanted to ask a thousand more questions, but instead bowed to the sternness of his father’s tone. “Sie.”
“Do you accept the grace that our ancestors, through lifetimes of trials, paved a path so that civilization could flourish without encumbrance?”
His teeth began to clatter. “Sie.”
“Do you accept the Skrol secret as that encumbrance?”
Eres hesitated, eyes darting hastily. “S-sie.”
“My boy.” Agden crouched down a bit and cupped Eres’ face with both hands. “If you are uncertain, speak now. Plesus.” A tear rolled down his cheek.
“I am clear, Fata. I want to be a Skrol – with you.” Eres nodded his determination, shaking off his doubt.
“Good. Now for your esper. Listen closely – you will be overwhelmed, you will be tempted, and two things could come of it. You control it, or it controls you. Into Gushda you will descend, and when you do, look for my face, Eres. Do you hear me?”
Eres’ mouth hung open. “Y-yes, but-”
Agden kissed his forehead like he used to back in their shack, right before he would depart for every new venture. “Remember, Eres, I love you, always.”
Why is he speaking like this? Does it take this much out of him to make new espers? Everything is going to be alright soon, Fata. This is just a bad day. You’re just a bit unhinged from everything that took place. He’s overreacting. I’m overreacting.
With tears now running down his face, Agden pressed two fingers to his armored wrist like he was checking his pulse. He then dragged those fingers up his arm and across his chest. It was there where he performed a unique hand motion on his Glite armor that couldn’t be replicated by just anyone.
“Wait a second…” Eres’ throat ran dry, lips cold.
The gesture was something that he’d seen before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Something horrible. Somewhere horrible. His body was reacting, but still, he couldn’t put his finger on where…
“Mustae.”
It clicked. And when it did, Agden’s Glite armor began to glow a vibrant red before it started vibrating intensely.
“Fata?”
Whoever it was that Seren Night took in that octor feed had done the same… right before…
“Fata, no!”
“Wear my esper, watch over your ooma, and protect what you swore you would, son. It is bigger than either of us… remem-”
Agden was stopped mid-speech, his eyes cold and watery.
“Fata!” Eres was hysterical as he lunged to keep him upright, to hold him, pleading for him not to go. But it was as if every desperate attempt made him fade away faster, like he was turning to dust in his hands. He was turning to dust in his hands.
“No!”
As Eres peered down in dismay, he realized in this moment that every few and far between visit from his father was pure gold, priceless, and the past Eres, the one who complained incessantly, would never understand. No one could ever understand.
Agden disintegrated upward like a torched flower. It was terrifying to watch. A hundred times worse than in Proctor Ren’s class. A billion times worse.
And with his remains went the air pocket like a burst bubble, the storm reducing to a purr in his wake. Plants and grass wilted immediately, as if nature too mourned the loss of Agden Way, revered Skrol who was loyal to the very end.
Eres fell to his knees with his father’s dust in his hands. The silence was haunting. Why couldn’t he rewind time? Why hadn’t he listened to his ooma. He could’ve been better, he could’ve learned Reach in time to protect his father, to not be such a burden.
Why!?
He stared down hopelessly at the remains blowing in the gales, how this signified not only the death of his father, but of everything that Eres once had. Any comfort, any hope. It was all gone now. There was nothing left. And when the last of the dust was taken with the wind, only Agden’s esper remained.
It didn’t matter though. He still couldn’t process any of it, his mouth stuck in a silent scream. It happened so fast, so unexpectedly.
He thought of the few times that his father had come down from the storm like Zeus descending from Mount Olympus, the gifts he bore, stories he’d shared, brief love that was given. It wasn’t enough… and now even that was gone, forever. The feeling of comfort from Agden’s guardianship, whether real or a figment of Eres’ mind, disappeared entirely. A dark shiver crawled up his spine to mark his loneliness.
Tears finally flowed as he rocked back and forth to sate himself. He hummed uselessly to the winds, hugged his own arms for comfort. Something. Anything.
But he would find none of it here.
Nothing was left but to fall forward, forehead slapped against the dirt, where he could sob into Dolseir to let it know of his pain.
In this instance he felt for Crow. If this is how it was for him… no feeling of protection, no warmth, throughout the entirety of his childhood, then it was time to forgive him. It made sense why Crow was the way he was.
An hour had passed and Eres was still face down in the dirt.
Two before his body was exhausted from crying, before he finally raised his head and wiped it free of mud. One T mark showing, eyes bloodshot, and chest aching from bruises with every breath, he was defeated. With the last of his energy, he looked up to the cloud pumping out benign rain.<
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“Is that your lingering shield, Fata? Are the rangers still looking for me?” he asked of no one. “Now what? Go home to Ooma?”
After clenching his fists in insatiable frustration, knuckles white and shaking, he eventually let his hand open, where a ring-shaped indent was stuck in his skin from compression. Inside an open palm lay the only connection to his father that remained – his esper. Yearning to be close to him, for answers, comfort, anything, he abruptly slammed the ring onto his finger, and it immediately took.
Miniature tendrils with vines pricked his skin as the esper shined a familiar amber. He felt a tingle at first, then another, and before he knew it, his reality sped up like he was thrust a thousand miles an hour through time and space, his peripherals a blur. Trying to catch his breath yielded nothing but panic, for the sensation of wind slamming against his face prevented any air from getting in. Then he abruptly stopped in another realm that he couldn’t explain if he tried.
The projection of himself was ethereal, fading, yet euphoric with every stride. His sight, however, was bright. It looked as though he was traveling through the cosmos – twinkling lights that resembled stars in the distance, patches of pure darkness overhead were conjoined with segments of light, each section representing another spot in time, another imprint, another memory. Two people that he didn’t recognize were speaking in secret below him, in a cavern somewhere far away from any place Eres knew in Ingora. To his right was the beginning of a battle from a different time – armor bulky and awkward, weapons antiquated and inefficient.
“What is this?” Eres’ voice sounded watery and godly all at once. “I feel light… like I weigh nothing.”
The entire scene altered after what seemed like seconds. Eres felt as though he was inside an enormous slowly ticking clock, and could even hear a colossal mechanic entity shifting its gears, the echo of which vibrated through him like a shockwave underwater. It was a whole new type of experience, a rebirth into another world. He gawked at the cosmos above him, or whatever it was that projected more imprints, which were playing out memories in movie form before fading away into new ones. The tone shifted often, altering his experience, his mood. The color palette affected emotion. Red felt angry. Blue, exploratory. Green, like home. They changed when his sight shifted, like his observation of the memory had an effect in and of itself. Was the realm communicating with him somehow, highlighting importance among a sea of information?
Directly above him, in an imprint shining slightly brighter than the rest, was an old man bowing on his knees, holding high the esper for a young woman to take. Their clothes looked odd – not Umboro, Dagos, Swul, or Eplon to his knowledge… and the man did not appear to be from any race Eres had known either. Pointed ears under a thick silver mane, delicate features - the being was thin and proportionately small.
“Is that a Kujin? The forgotten race that was mentioned in Generations class? So weird. Why is he offering my fata’s esper? This must’ve happened ages ago.”
Eres could hear them speaking, but couldn’t quite make out the words. He looked forward to something that resembled a black hole. Little bugs of light ran around a hauntingly dark epicenter. Space warped while crossing its threshold, like heat rising in a desert. He floated closer, unable to help himself. Other imprints blinked away as he approached, as if the esper itself wanted Eres to dive in. And once he did, the only awareness within his five senses was a euphoric tingle, molecules vibrating so fast that he wasn’t sure if he was traveling at light speed or hardly moving at all. Sound drifted away, vision was nonexistent, and he couldn’t feel the air passing through him. It was a complete momentary surrender.
However, the sensation calmed soon after, and sound returned first. Noise became that of a waterfall echoing within a massive cave. It became louder as he approached, until the feeling of his ethereal feet brushing against stone manifested. Then came his sense of smell. An inhale drew him forward, to something new, fresh. Saltwater.
His sight was still nonexistent, but a sense of serenity around him evoked a smile nonetheless. The darkness was somehow inviting, beckoning him into a scene that eventually came to life with the vibrancy of opening his eyes for the first time. Water poured endlessly into a natural pool, kicking up a light mist. A green hue lit the cave from light bouncing off its depths. Stones underfoot were brown spotted with red, and the swaying waters reflected off the walls.
Eres’ body began to rematerialize as if he was there, experiencing this mysterious tucked away place that was so unlike anything in Dolseir. He was awestruck as he gazed around, recognizing in that moment, how different an esper was from an octor. His ooma’s teachings of Gushda made sense only now… and when he spun around once more, he jolted back, body becoming stiff. All of the color left his face as he remembered the horrible event that had just occurred… because his father was standing right beside him.
“Eres…” Agden spoke.
“Fata.” Eres tried to communicate, but he was cut-off, letting him know that the attempt fell on deaf ears.
“I created this imprint for you because I had a feeling that your curiosity would land you here. If you’re seeing this now, then I’ve passed on… to wherever it is I’m supposed to be next, outside of Ingora’s spheres.” Agden knelt. “I hope that you’re not looking into my eyes by the time you reach this memory. I hope that you’re looking down… that you’ve grown, that we’ve spent a lifetime together. Right now, you’re no larger than a sun fruit in your mother’s arms, but here, I can only imagine you tall.” He dared to look up slowly, accurately tracking his eyes to Eres’ current height, and then failingly going beyond.
Eres’ amber irises immediately became glassy, his body heavy, anguish returning tenfold. His father wanted to spend time with him…
“He did love me,” Eres said to himself when he realized what he was seeing.
“Whatever our fate in Rudo, it is here, in Gushda, where you will learn of our legacy.” Agden stood, spun, and paced toward the jagged ledge of the pool. “When I was floating where you are now, in other memories, other teachings, warnings, I realized what so many were trying to tell me in my Skrol training, that I must be at peace in the Eternal if I would ever succeed in the physical. However, to be at peace, my son, we must first understand how the gift of an esper works.”
Eres inched forward tentatively, studying his father’s differences in youth. No windburn, livelier demeanor, skin smoother. He wondered how long Agden was forced to be boundless. When did Seren begin to strike?
“Time moves more quickly in here, a benefit that is useful when in a bind in Rudo, but beware… your mental energy is affected too. You can return exhausted if not careful. Manage your intervals mindfully, for I have failed to do so countless times before. The feeling is that of being awake for days on end. Also,” he raised his voice to stress the importance, “do not get lost in here. This is not where your days should be spent. Think of it as a fleeting luxury, not an existence… not unless you want to forfeit your plight in Rudo. And, son, we cannot have that happen if you have donned my esper. You are charged to protect it, as the generations you’ve passed through have done before you.”
Eres looked down at his ethereal hand, to his ring finger illuminating a heavenly amber glow.
“Now, I want you to remember how you arrived here. Trace your steps, remember the events that led you into Gushda.”
Eres’ eyes began to dart back and forth at the mention. “Oh no… how long have I been out there… I’m in danger. The Factions are looking for me. No, no. Fata! Get me out!”
Even all of those years ago, in a place of seeming peace, Agden felt that the situation of Eres’ bequeathal may be a dire one. That Eres may need to get out of there as fast as possible, that he may need to run.
The Skrol clenched his fists for emphasis. “All you have to do to break free of this plane, is think hard about what you love back in Rudo. You have to make a case strong enough that can draw you back.”
&nbs
p; At this point Eres was hyperventilating, wondering what was to become of his body back in the physical world. Logic began to override and calm him. If he was captured, he surely wouldn’t be able to navigate the esper...
“Breathe,” he told himself. “Windel, take me back.”
The image in front of him began to peel away like old wallpaper.
The brightness of Windel’s face in his mind’s eye was all powerful, taking precedence, ejecting him from Gushda.
“Find me again, Eres. I have much to show you.” Agden winked before disappearing under the collapsing vision.
Eres gasped for air back in Rudo. It was dark now. How much time had passed? He patted himself down to ensure that he was in fact whole. And now, he realized, it wasn’t just his father’s warning that made him panic, for his eyes must’ve been open in Rudo, witnessing a sight that he had to come back to.
Lorfa was hobbling forward amid the storm, her mouth open and heaving, notable wheezes of pain escaping after every other step. Frustrated with her body’s failing efforts, she trucked on regardless, determined to find the one thing that brought her back from Eres’ mother’s esper… Eres himself.
“Ooma!” Eres shouted, his voice a raspy mess.
His legs eventually caught up with his inner turmoil, his sense of urgency, alternating faster and faster until…
“Oh Eres!” She finally saw him. Relief… aching, desperate relief. She collapsed onto one knee immediately – something her body was yelling at her to do for some time now - and then allowed herself a long, shut-eyed sigh upon recognizing that her grandson was alive and well.
“The shiders,” she panted through her words once he was in earshot, “the tremors… Kor Vinsánce was attacked wasn’t i-” She stopped speaking immediately upon seeing Agden’s esper wrapped cozily around Eres’ ring finger. “No…”
“Ooma, he’s gone.” Eres fell into a desperate embrace. “I-I’m an orphan now.”
A thousand thoughts raced through Lorfa’s mind, it was obvious as her wrinkled face rested over Eres’ shoulder, her inky eyes filled with tears. “They got to Wukaldred… Seren has found us.”
