Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  So Annala picked up her staff and walked with the old woman. By noon, Annala was getting hungry. Unfortunately, all the food in her basket spilled during her mad dash away from the wolf. Seeing her discomfort, the old woman offered her a chunk of meat; whether it was human or wolf, she couldn’t determine.

  “That young man was fond of you, was he not? Would he want you to go hungry?”

  Annala shook her head and accepted the meat.

  While they ate, they spoke of stories. Annala told her which ones she knew and the old woman added a few of her own from her own life. Annala was eager to hear them.

  The old woman was a hermit, living in the woods by herself. She contemplated wisdom and the universe in between the work she did. When young people walked into the woods, she helped them. She did not leave the forest to do so.

  “Don’t the stories talk about travel and change?”

  “I do change. My life is devoted to self-improvement. As the seasons change, so do I. Only the foolish go in search of danger. The only change there is the permanent end.”

  This appealed to Annala. As she walked through the forest in search of the path with the old woman, she began to wonder why she needed to. She had a grandmother-like figure at her side already. This one knew plenty of stories and was clearly happy in her lifestyle. By living in isolation, she had all the freedom in the world and could make whatever changes were necessary.

  “Where is your home?”

  “It’s far from the path, I’m afraid. But I will show you where it is.”

  More images flashed into Annala’s mind. The hunting, the gathering, and the mending she would do by herself. The hours she would spend in meditation and reflection. Composing the verses and writing the treatise that no one would see. She saw a bucket whose water was still, without a drop to disturb it. She jumped away from the old woman and shouted, “Heretic!”

  The old woman smiled. “In the eyes of Lady Chaos, there is no such thing. A dogma that never splinters and never evolves, whose purity is enforced by shame and disciplined, and whose holy word is taken as secular law. Wouldn’t that be chaotic heresy?”

  “I guess... mixing chaos and order philosophy is too much for me. I don’t like it. I won’t accept it. I certainly wouldn’t learn or practice it.”

  The old woman nodded. “Very well. It is your Chaos-given free will to say so. It is my Chaos-given free will to do this.”

  She snapped her fingers and the ground under Annala’s feet split. The old woman looked down at the young girl in the pit, and the young girl glared up at the old woman.

  “What was that for?”

  “So you can’t run away.”

  “You planned on trapping me all this time?!”

  “Everything that exists is mana, and mana is a tool to be used in magecraft. Magecraft is the art and science of altering the world with one’s will. One’s will is an expression of one’s free individuality. Thus, I treat the ground as a trap for bait, which is then a trap for my meal. Thus, I survive. That is my version of Chaosism, the way of the Chaotic Hermit.”

  She tossed scraps of bloody meat into the pit. “Are you scared?”

  “No.”

  “Really? After all, Chaos is with you.”

  She walked away and disappeared from Annala’s view. The girl paced back and forth in a new fit of nerves. This woman had her at her mercy. There was no telling what such a heretic would do to her.

  “To think I considered learning from her…”

  The walls of her prison were tall and smooth. It would be impossible to escape by climbing. She tried anyway but only scaled a foot before sliding back. At a loss, she repeated the heretic’s last words.

  “Chaos is with me?” She looked at her finger marks and realized, “Chaos is inside me!”

  Using her hands, she carved holes in the dirt wall. She used those holes to plant her feet and boost herself up. Then she made more holes and repeated the process. The sun sank as quickly as she ascended. At the end, she was tired, sweaty, bruised, dirty, and free. The old woman was waiting for her.

  “Congratulations, you passed lesson two. Ready for lesson three?”

  Annala turned her back. “Yes. It’s called ‘walking away from the heretic.’”

  A wolf’s howl answered her words. Then a wolf appeared between them. The old woman was calm, but Annala was terrified. This was not just any wolf. This was the wolf; the one she killed and the old woman cut up. She could see the dent in its skull where she smashed it in. I can’t kill it. It’s unkillable.

  “I’m not running away from either of you,” she shouted at them both. “I’m running toward Grandmother’s house!”

  She ran as fast as she could, and both the old woman and the undead wolf gave chase. They intercepted at the point of the triangle and the latter ate the former just like it did the prince.

  Annala dodged branches and boulders, but a river stopped her. Breathlessly, she searched for a way to cross it. Finding none and fearing the wolf pouncing on her, she dived in. The current was strong, but her fear was stronger. She feared the wolf eating her and the river drowning her and so she pushed herself to reach the far shore. After reaching it, she paused to catch her breath and then continued running.

  Grandmother’s house was close; she could feel it. There was only a little further to go. Just beyond that hill and she would be able to see it. Then a lasso landed around her elbows. The sudden restraint yanked her to the ground.

  A man flipped her on her stomach and wrenched her arms behind her back. In short order, her wrists were securely bound together and to her waist with the lasso’s lead. A second loop went around her neck. Her captor pulled her to her feet with it.

  “You belong to me now, girl,” the man said. “You’re my slave.”

  “I belong to no—” The man turned her around and she stared into the face of Eric. “—one.”

  “I will take good care of you for as long as I live,” the man-sized Eric said. “You will want for nothing. I will keep you safe and guide you in all you do.” He cupped her cheek and her heart raced at his touch. “It will be a great life, I promise. All you have to do is obey me.”

  For a fourth time, images invaded Annala’s vision. It was as he said. She would be fed and fully clothed. Her body and dignity would be respected. He would appreciate all she did and shower her with affection. However, there would be boundaries. There would be chains. There would be demonstrations of her helplessness and his authority.

  She bit his fingers. “I will never obey you. A gilded cage is still a cage.”

  The slaver shook his hand. “Pity, but I have time. Breaking a girl’s spirit can be fun.”

  He turned Annala back around and put a hand on the small of her back. Holding the noose tight with his other hand, he pushed her away from the hill that led to Grandmother’s house.

  She dragged her feet, but his superior weight forced her to step in his direction. She twisted in the ropes binding her hands and he choked her for it. Instead, she looked around the forest for something that she could use to her advantage. They walked for hours and she found nothing, but she didn’t give up.

  As the sun fell, her captor set up camp. The first thing he did was force Annala to kneel so he could hogtie her. He tied the rope to a stake that he drove into the ground, then tied sacks over her hands to make doubly sure.

  “You will never get away from me.”

  She looked away from him and lifted her nose haughtily. Even if it was Eric, she didn’t want to be his slave. It was against every one of Grandmother’s stories to hand one’s free will to another. If he was going to be so thorough when restraining her, then he would surely monitor and regulate every second of her day. She would be a living puppet.

  “Unacceptable!”

  “Don’t make me gag you.”

  He lay against a tree, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. As soon as he was good and unconscious, the wolf returned and swallowed his head whole.

  F
ear like never before flooded Annala. The wolf was here, and she was alone and utterly helpless.

  It chewed on the slaver’s head and didn’t attack her. It finished its meal and didn’t attack her. It chewed on a femur rather than attack her.

  “You’re me...”

  The wolf stopped snacking and stared at her.

  “More precisely, you’re my fear,” Annala continued. “I feared the unknown and you arrived to convince me to go back or protect me. I feared becoming like Aunt Triste for going mad out of love for a human, and you killed him before it could happen. I feared practicing my faith the wrong way and you killed a corruptive mentor. I feared becoming enslaved once more, and you killed the slaver. You’re not my enemy.”

  The wolf lunged, but Annala didn’t move. Its front paws landed in her lap and it licked her face. She laughed and turned her face to avoid its tongue. Then it went behind her and chewed through the ropes. Once her hands were free, she hugged its neck and buried her face in its fur. An owl hooted.

  Annala sat up. “I have to go Grandmother’s house! I hope she’s not asleep by now.”

  She walked away from the wolf and it growled. She smiled and returned to it. Stroking it behind the ears, she said, “I suppose you want to come too?” It wagged its tail. “Then come on.”

  Together, girl and wolf continued their adventure through the forest. Neither could see the path, but Annala had faith that she would find it and that her companion would keep her safe until she did. They crested a hill and Annala saw a cottage at the bottom.

  “Race you there!”

  Together, they ran through the darkness towards the light of the cottage. It was neck-and-neck all the way down, but Annala slowed at the plain. Her legs stiffened and her lungs constricted. Focusing on Grandmother’s stories, she put on a burst of speed and arrived at the cottage an instant before the wolf. The door opened and out stepped Grandmother.

  She was both tall and pump. Her face was weathered and wrinkled, but vibrant golden-brown hair cascaded down her back to her ankles. Her golden eyes radiated warmth and kindness.

  “Welcome home, granddaughter. I’ve been expecting you.”

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Grandmother. I had quite the adventure coming here.”

  “Wonderful! Then I won’t be the only one telling stories tonight.”

  She put her arm around Annala, and as she turned around, the wolf blocked her path. It bared bloody teeth and snarled. Annala shrank in shame, but Grandmother only responded with kind eyes and a sympathetic smile.

  “You fear me.”

  “No, I don’t!” Annala cried. “You’re my grandmother and I lo—”

  “ARF!”

  “Let’s talk out here. Is that all right?”

  Miserably, Annala nodded. She left her grandmother’s embrace and sat on a tree stump. The wolf also sat but remained on guard. Grandmother crouched next to a grand ash tree.

  “Tell me, sweetie, what kind of adventures did you have on your way here?”

  The wolf closed its jaws around her throat and bit air. Landing on the ground in a tumble, it was confused. Annala was horrified. She stood up and backed away from Grandmother, only to trip over her own feet.

  “I didn’t mean to do that!” she shouted. “Really, I don’t hate you! I’ve read every scripture and commentary and—”

  “AAAARRRFFFFF!”

  The wolf tried again, but its jaws couldn’t find purchase anywhere on Grandmother’s body.

  “Stop that!” Annala shouted at the wolf. “That’s not what I want!”

  The wolf stopped. It looked at Annala and fixed her with a hard stare. Then it began to change. Its paws became hands, its back straightened, and its face flattened. Its fur became clothing and hair. Then she stood up as a copy of Annala. The only differences were her wolf-like ears and tail.

  “Liar.” It was a whisper that the whole forest could hear. “I have done your will, my will, every step of the way here. I protected you from what you feared.” She flung her right hand at Grandmother. “She is no different.”

  Annala jumped up and said, “I came to apologize!”

  Wolf reached behind her back and withdrew a Deathkiller bow. Swiftly nocking an arrow, she pointed it at Annala. “You came to criticize.”

  She released the shaft and it struck Annala in the heart. The force of it carried her backwards and pinned her to a tree. Annala winced and yanked on the arrow, but it was too deep into the tree to remove. She was trapped, with a fatal wound, yet she didn’t die. All she knew was terrible pain and a shortness of breath.

  Wolf stepped forward and stared her in the eyes. “This is what Grandmother did to you. She gave you a Seed of Chaos so you would suffer. The death of your human uncle, the insanity of your elven relatives, and the de-powerment that led to your boyfriend cheating on you and your village ostracizing you. All of them are Grandmother’s fault.”

  She twisted the arrow and Annala whimpered. “I didn’t give you this pain. I only made you aware of it.”

  “G...Grandmother...” Annala rasped. “...He...Help...me...”

  The old woman placed her hand on the arrow. Just like Wolf’s jaws on her neck, her hands passed through it. Annala’s eyes widened and she grabbed it herself; as solid as the ground beneath her feet.

  “You don’t want me to help.”

  “Yes...I...Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t,” Wolf insisted. “I’m the one you need help from. I’m the one giving you what you want.”

  “But...” Realization dawned in Annala’s mind. “No! I don’t want that!”

  Blood spilled from the arrow wound. It stained her frock and leaked onto her cloak on its way to the ground. A red circle formed in the green grass. Her vision blurred.

  “I...I thought...”

  “You thought wrong.” Wolf crossed her arms. “I protected you from the endless torment you would have faced over the course of your endless life; the suffering that you feared. Only in death will you find the peace and freedom that you seek.”

  Consciousness left Annala and her eyes closed. The forest and everything within disappeared. She opened her eyes into all-consuming darkness. Absolutely nothing existed here other than herself and another.

  His skin shined with the moon's radiance. The irises of his eyes were blacker than the deepest night and his hair was darker than the purest pitch. He wore a magnificent black cloak that concealed both his hands and feet. An hourglass hung from his neck.

  It was a strange contraption. It wasn’t shaped like a traditional hourglass, but the infinity symbol. There was liquid instead of sand inside and this liquid constantly flowed in two directions so that only a little stayed at the bottom. Her name ran across it.

  The figure folded back the sleeves on his left hand and skeletal fingers gripped the hourglass. She felt a chill as he did so. He looked into her eyes and his gaze made her shiver.

  “Annala Enaz, daughter of Nunnal and Ponix, sixteen years old, do you know who I am?”

  “...You’re...you’re...you’re D-Death.”

  “Do you know why I am here?”

  “I’m...dead...I’m dead.”

  “I could take you to my domain right now, despite the circumstances of your ‘death.’”

  She jumped away, one hand against her chest. “No! You can’t! I have to get back to Eric! And my parents! I’m going to be late for school!”

  “Do you think I care? I’m Death.”

  With a rise of his hand, the darkness surged. It grabbed Annala from every angle, coiling around her, restraining her, and ignoring her every protest. It threw her at Death’s feet. He took her chin in hand and tilted it up.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  Annala nodded.

  “Why?”

  “M-my uncle w-was the most p-powerful human...I...how’d you kill him?”

  “I didn’t.” Death released her chin and stood up straight. “My reapers and I are nothing more than facilitators and guid
es. Most of our charges are already dead by the time we arrive. The world of Chaos is constantly changing from death to life and life to death. Your uncle died because his supply of kon, the energy that sustains life, was empty.”

  “That is impossible! He was healthy! No one could find anything wrong with him! You must have done something.”

  “I thought he was going to make it,” Death said thoughtfully. “I sent a reaper to collect him at the one-hundred-year mark and she came back with a crush on him. I sent another at the one-hundred-ten-year mark and he also came back with a crush on him. After that, I decided to leave him be. Then Reno Grade delivered him to my court with the explanation that he had become a wandering soul.”

  Annala’s stare hardened. “Eric told me about him. A more likely story is that my uncle discovered his dirty dealings and so he was hushed with a silent kill. You didn’t do anything about him until my Eric also uncovered his dirty dealings.”

  The shadows tightened sharply around her arms. She grit her teeth against the pain and screamed as it broke her bones. She leaned forward and panted as her arms mended themselves.

  “Tell me, Annala Enaz, what happened just now?”

  “You...eeh...your idea of mercy needs work. Even if I can regenerate, it still...hurts...”

  “What happened just now?” Death repeated.

  “...I regenerated. My cells die just like those of a human, but they endlessly regenerate. The human body can’t do that. They preserved it as well as they could, but it eventually gave out, and his spirit wasn’t strong enough because...oh trickster...”

  “You do understand. There is a difference between the long-lived and the truly immortal. What is that difference?”

  “The body is an illusion,” Annala said. “A Razor Spirit inside a mortal body will eventually break due to repeated sharpening. Only a divine body or a divine spirit can live forever. Only fellow gods are outside your jurisdiction. Only those who cannot die can use the Door of Death as an entrance instead of an exit.”

  “I asked him if he had any unfinished business. Do you know what he said?”