Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  “Thanks for your help,” he said to the cleric. “I’m Eric Watley. What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Priestess.”

  “Just ‘Priestess’?”

  “Yep. I’m eccentric.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a chaos cleric,” Eric said. “Are you here for the Festival of Arin’s Ascension?”

  “Yes, I am. It’s an important day for everyone of elven heritage.”

  “Annala, repeat that, please.”

  “As you wish, Master Eric. ‘Yes, I am. It’s an important day for everyone of elven heritage.’”

  “How about that? You two sound identical.”

  Priestess took three steps backward and her familiar barked. “It is a funny coincidence, but the more important thing is making sure this golem incident doesn’t happen again.”

  Eric’s arms subconsciously tightened around Annala and became a grendel’s.

  “How do I do that?”

  “Don’t make or go anywhere near any more golems. Anything similar, like suits of armor, is also a bad idea. They’re vessels for the souls of the deceased and a reaper is provoking them to attack you.”

  “Samael’s still at it, huh?” Eric asked.

  “Her too, but more this new one that I can’t tell you about specifically because I’m not supposed to tell you anything at all.” She shifted her grip on her staff. “I’m only doing this because you’re going to, I mean, you could, possibly, get into trouble... in the future...given your history with reapers.”

  Eric ran a magical scan over Annala to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Then he said, “Duly noted, but I’m immortal. Reapers can’t kill someone with a Seed of Chaos.”

  “True...but if...for whatever reason, you stopped being immortal, you’ll be in great danger!”

  This also triggered his grendel threat instincts and his pupils slit. She couldn’t possibly know about the plan. Only me, Tasio, Remho, and Nunnal know about it and none of us have any reason to leak it.

  “I’m only speaking hypothetically, of course. In our chaos-based universe, all things are possible, so an immortal becoming mortal is just as possible as a mortal becoming immortal. Just as it’s possible to puncture a world fruit and cause a flood of paku.”

  This last sentence was sharper in tone than the previous two and the wolf growled at him. Immediately, Priestess stopped shifting her grip and started petting the wolf to calm her.

  Eric groaned. “I was afraid that would turn into a big mess. It’s one of the possible futures I saw with Wiol’s power. Is an Astral Oversoul going to kill my teammates?”

  The wolf wasn’t pacified by her mistress’ petting but at least she stopped growling. Priestess said, “Don’t worry about that. I already took care of them.”

  “Them?”

  “Moving on! It’s the very souls you and Kallen Selios allowed into the world that are hunting you now; some of them possessed the earth golems. They were confused and scared and this made them hostile to the one they believe is responsible. The reaper I spoke of is exploiting them for revenge.”

  “Revenge?”

  Priestess face palmed. Then she tapped herself on both sides of her head. Her hands dropped and she took a calming breath. Gripping her staff in front of her, she stood up and faced him, though her face remained obscured by her hood.

  “The point is that spirits, in general, do not like you right now because you punctured the world with Chaotic Starlight. Both the ghosts and the elementals are angry. I’m trying to mop up the former and pacify the latter, but it’s going to take a while. I need you to do all you can to stay alive until then, understand?”

  Eric allowed his monster tone to reply, “I’m pretty good at staying alive.”

  Priestess gripped her staff tighter. “You’ve overcome mages and monsters before. You’re facing gods this time. This is important! Do not look for them, ignore your admirable heroism if you hear of them, and do not accept any Dragon’s Lair jobs that have to do with them. Promise me you won’t forget!”

  Her body shimmered and became transparent, but she willed herself solid. Her wolf continued to fade.

  “Please promise me!”

  Her voice alone convinced him. “...I promise.” If he could see her panicked face, he wouldn’t have hesitated at all.

  “Good...”

  This word came out as a sigh of relief. Her body immediately shifted to ethereal. Golden-brown light glowed within her and her familiar.

  “ARF!”

  “Okay, going now.”

  The pair flashed a blinding light, and then they were gone. Only mutated ground where they stood remained. Eric crushed the mini monsters spawned from it before they could cause any trouble.

  “Who was that?” he asked.

  Annala shrugged. “The festival makes all the crazies come out of the woodwork.”

  Eric nodded and recited the Air Disk spell.

  A disk of wind and light appeared beneath their feet and lifted them a foot off the ground. Since the walk back would take several minutes, and there were no monsters around, Eric reflected on the earth soldiers.

  The golems he created for sport were hijacked by hostile spirits soon after he created them. That meant either the reaper was monitoring him or the spirits were stalking him. Both were scary thoughts. He considered delaying his current plan until they were dealt with, but a single look at Annala reaffirmed his resolve.

  When the couple reached the boundary of the village proper, they waved to the tree sentinels. These were tall and stout specimens with branches shaped like spears or other polearms. There was a line of them around the community, a circle of space, and then a second line of sentinels. All of these were under the protection of the Chaotic Curtain, which was generated by the Sage Tree, Dnnac, at the village center. It was because of them that Eric and Annala could stroll about carefree.

  As they walked, Eric was greeted by passing elves. Each one offered a smile and addressed him as “village hero.” As they crossed the village square, one elf was extra excited. He paused his work to give Eric a hug. He was a big man and a broad one too. Not only did the boy disappear in his embrace, so did the girl next to him. His shaggy golden beard completed the mammoth impression.

  “Donangelo, you don’t have to hug me every time you see me.”

  “Oh, but I do! I’ve thought of humans as vile worms ever since the Conversion War. I would have trapped you in a statue if Tasio hadn’t stopped me. Then you save our community from Order himself!”

  He squeezed tighter. Annala yipped at the pressure.

  “Hugs are the least I can do!”

  He abruptly released them, and the lack of support made Annala’s knees buckle. She held herself steady by gripping Eric’s arm. He shot her a worried look, but she brushed it off with a small smile. Donangelo didn’t see any of this because he was gesturing proudly to his latest work.

  “The next step is this statue of your heroic feat!”

  Before him and within a magic circle was his work in progress. He started a day ago, so the figures were rough, but Eric could make out three or maybe four. Two of them pointed over a third, who was prostrated, while a fourth stood by. The first two formed a joined V and the third was spread out into an X.

  “This statue will preserve your and Kallen’s bravery and power for all of eternity. Neither rain, nor sleet, nor the heat death of the universe will destroy it!”

  “Seriously?” Eric asked.

  “It took me a couple centuries of continuous research to create the proper spell, but I succeeded in proofing a statue in simulated conditions. I’m confident it will work.”

  “You have too much free time on your hands.”

  Donangelo shrugged and picked up his chisel. “It will be done in a week or two. Come back to the village and see it then.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “By then, you’ll be village hero twice over.” He chuckled while he chiseled.

  “Th
at reminds me,” Annala said. “Master Eric, the dress rehearsal is tomorrow. I will make sure everything is ready for you.”

  Eric grimaced. “That’s not necessary. I told you before that you don’t have to do these things.”

  She blinked. Her face gave away nothing but innocent incomprehension. “Forgive me for disagreeing, Master Eric, but I do. My purpose is to serve Master Eric. If I cannot fulfill this purpose, then I should not continue living.”

  Eric ran a hand through the stark white hair under her hood. It was still strong and healthy but depressed him nonetheless. Her only reaction to this intimate gesture was to close her eyes and smile. He sighed. It won’t be long now.

  “Alright. If it makes you happy, go ahead.”

  “Thank you, Master Eric.”

  They stepped over a fence of mushrooms to reach a tree shaped like a puzzle cube. This was the house of the Enaz family and Eric’s residence for the duration of his stay in Dnnac Ledo. There was trouble at the door because each wanted to open it for the other. In the end, Annala won with another implied threat of self-harm. It made Eric’s evil eye twitch.

  Inside, she took off her heavy winter clothing and hung it neatly on a rack. Unwrapping the scarf revealed two collars: one was metal and grey and the other was velvet and brown. Seeing them stirred Eric even more.

  The metal collar was the reason for her white hair, her insistence on serving him, and her lack of self-respect. An ordercrafter had snapped it on to make her his slave and then Order himself finished the job. It locked down her confident, compassionate, and inquisitive personality in order to superimpose a complacent and obedient servant. He wanted to rip the thing off, but even if he could, it would do more harm than good.

  The velvet collar was made to mitigate the effects of the metal one, but at this terminal stage, it was useless. Thus, it was little more than decoration.

  “Hey, we’re home,” he said.

  At the sound of his voice, three holograms appeared in the living room. One was a masculine counterpart to Annala, her twin brother Forge. Another was a slender woman wearing goggles and a lab coat, her mother Nunnal. The third was a lanky man carrying a crossword, her father Ponix.

  “If you’re hearing this,” said Forge’s hologram, “then I’m at the smithery making daggers for Sagart to bless into chiem and other stuff for walk-the-earth journeys. That’s over half the people in my generation. They’re going to leave right after the Festival of Arin’s Ascension, so it all has to be done beforehand.”

  “Dinner’s in the fridge, sweetie,” Nunnal’s hologram said. “Between preparing the medical mana mutation deliveries and quelling the...can’t you keep them back for five seconds?! Sorry, sweetie, it’s the mutant wombat rebellion. I’m stuck at the lab; seriously, I’m besieged.”

  “A five-letter word meaning ‘fungus crystal’….” Ponix’s hologram said. “Oh! Is this recording? Okay, I’m briefing the kids on the Dos and Don’ts of walking the earth. It’s several classes and they have many misconceptions about humans. It may take a while.”

  Annala stepped between the holograms and Eric. She clasped her hands at her waist and bowed her head forward.

  “In that case, allow me to wait on you for dinner tonight, Master Eric.”

  “Sure….”

  She served him food her mother prepared and stood behind him while he ate. No words could goad her into joining him; masters and servants didn’t eat together. When he finished, she cleaned the table and washed his dishes. Then she looked for another chore to perform.

  I hope Tasio’s plan works.

  Early the next morning, Eric hurriedly put on his costume. Today was the final rehearsal of Elvish Origin and if he didn’t hurry, he was going to be late!

  He overslept due to a poor night’s sleep. Drawers opened and slammed closed on their own. Ghostly screams echoed. Then, when he finally fell asleep, paku in the shape of humans and other creatures tried to spirit him away. Priestess saved him by exorcising them. Then she adjusted the wards on his room and apologized before leaving in a hurry.

  Seconds later, the Enaz family entered to check on him. Eric told them what happened, but they didn’t believe him. “Only family can get in at night,” they said. Forge went further and accused him of having a naughty nun dream, so he pointed at the modified runes. Nunnal admitted that they showed a spiritual influence that was missing in her own work. She said she would look into it and told him to go back to sleep, but sleep did not come for hours. He was too alert for potential danger.

  First thing out of bed, he grabbed his costume bag. He put on a set of red tights and brown boots followed by a red long-sleeve shirt with a black vest that laced up the side. He placed a pointed brim hat on his head and a pair of gloves over his hands. He slung a sword sheath and shield over his shoulder and finally threw a long brown cape around his shoulders, securing it at his neck. When he walked out, Nunnal squealed, “Oh, you look adorable! Now hurry up. Annala’s waiting!”

  She dragged him to the village’s theater with one hand. A video camera was in her second hand and enough snacks and drinks for the entire cast were in her third, fourth, and fifth hands.

  “I had to send her ahead of you,” she said with her second mouth. The first was speaking with an aide at Hariana Inquires about the mutant wombat POWs. “She wasn’t happy about it, but she eventually agreed that it is what you would want.”

  I can’t wait to do that... I can wield the power of the gods, but I can’t figure out something that’s supposed to be as natural as breathing...

  In the village square, the play’s preparations were finally complete. Seats had been drawn up, decorations arranged, and all the snow was cleared away and made into slushies. All that remained was for the actors to affirm their roles.

  The play’s villain was chatting up a cute girl in peasant clothes and then, all of a sudden, he scooped her into his arms and made as if to carry her off. She yelped and flailed dramatically, only to break the facade by giggling. They seem to be having fun.

  Red-gray scales covered Ralm from head to toe and each digit ended in a curved talon. From his rear sprouted a whip-like tail ending in a spear blade. His clothing consisted of a shimmering silk robe encrusted with precious gems. Nilo’s costume, by contrast, was plain indeed. Then Eric saw the play’s heroine, his girlfriend. Her right hand tugged on her ear, but she stopped the second she spotted him. She ran to him and spun around, skirt twirling.

  “Does this costume please you, Master Eric?”

  Arin’s costume was a soft green dress with a square neckline and off-the-shoulders straps. The skirt drifted along the ground while a brown apron draped over it. A fox fur muffler was wrapped around her neck, concealing the two collars. Flowers were woven into her hair and she carried more in a basket held around her elbow. Eric wanted to tell her how lovely she looked but was too entranced to do so.

  “M-master Eric?” she asked again. “D-do you l-like it?”

  The fear in her voice brought him out of his stupor.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Trumpets flared and lightning flashed. A pillar of fire ignited on the stage in all the colors of the rainbow before exploding into a golden-brown blaze. Remho the Trickster stepped out of it and the blaze vanished without a trace.

  “Now, my crew of artists,” Remho said with a flare of his arms, “the time has almost arrived to show the World of Elves your brilliant talent!”

  On cue, a ball of light shone above him.

  “This is the final rehearsal. Tomorrow, you will take part in the celebration of the birth of your race and society! Remember the honor of this role and take courage in the fact that you were chosen to bear it!”

  Sparkly dust rained on the cast.

  “I want to see the expressions of your characters on your faces, I want to hear their emotion in your voices! I want you to BE your role and give it LIFEEEEEEEE!”

  A suitably dramatic explosion followed.

  “On another note...”
He shrank from his epic proportions. “Annala, how are you feeling?”

  “Great. Master Eric’s been taking good care of me.”

  Nunnal sat down with her video camera to enjoy the show. It went well: no one missed their cue, no special effects malfunctioned, and no one forgot their lines. The only flaw was Annala’s delivery at the climax. At this point, her character engages Tasio in a lengthy discussion about chaotic doctrine. Free will and self-empowerment were key themes, but Annala’s delivery of them fell flat. She didn’t have sufficient conviction and, as a result, she bogged down the entire scene.

  Remho discussed what to do with three of his four aspects. Remho the Casting Manager recommended skipping over it as the actress chosen to play the role was too casual about the lines; there wasn’t nearly enough of the emotion he was seeking and therefore the scene should be altered. The only alternative was to recast the role and there wasn’t time for that. Remho the Director argued fiercely against this as it was nothing less than the backbone of the entire show and as such had to be played as it was. Remho the Producer just wanted to get it done and at the same time asked the Director why he insists that such refined and polished language occurred at this point. The historical couple was in mortal danger, as he reminded himself, and most certainly did not have time for speeches. The Director replied that it was running through Arin’s head at the time and this was the best way to incorporate it as well as the necessary themes of the play and its purpose. He knew this because he asked her about it afterward.

  The three-way debate came from Remho’s single mouth. After a while, Eric lost track of who was talking. Unable to agree with himself, Remho called a break to consult his muses. Eric dismissed the question; it was pointless to fathom the mind of a trickster. As he jumped up and dusted off his costume, Annala moseyed over to him.

  “Master Eric, how may I improve my performance?”

  “You can start by not thinking of me as your ‘master.’”