Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  “Listen up, kiddo, we’re going on a field trip. If you promise to behave yourself, I’ll give you your scythe back. If you lie to me and try to kill Zettai again,” she showed him her Evil Eye, “you’ll doom yourself to a fate worse than death, understand?”

  Neuro gulped, sweated, and saluted. “Yes, Dragoness! Understood, Dragoness! I’ll behave myself, Dragoness!”

  “Noisop!”

  The squat poison master immediately lifted his head. “Yes, Dragoness?”

  “Please take Basilard to the Squad Two Emergency Room and see to his care. I scanned his condition before calling you, so I don’t want to see anything new when I return. Keep Hasina away from him, unless his condition deteriorates. Understand?”

  Noisop stood and saluted. “Yes, Dragoness!”

  Over her shoulder, she asked, “Are you taking notes, young lady?”

  Zettai nodded vigorously.

  Like a puppy who had peed inside the home, Ridley carried Neuro by his hood at arm’s length to the guild’s lobby. Zettai followed her like a duckling. Once inside the lobby, Ridley instructed Mia to monitor Basilard’s condition and stick Noisop into her pocket dimension if he disobeyed her orders. She replied with a salute and a “Yes, Dragoness.” Then she hugged her cousin and wrapped her up in a coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.

  Outside the guild building, Ridley scooped Zettai under her arm and squatted. In a mighty leap, she reached the top of the guild building. Then she hunched over and, with a grunt of effort, a pair of leathery wings burst from her back. The golden skin flaps shined in the noon sun, and the brown bone ridges stretched out. Each one was big enough for her to cocoon herself and her two charges.

  “Chaos!” Zettai blurted.

  “No, just a dragon with golden scales,” Ridley said.

  “It’s not just a title?”

  “It’s a tradition.”

  Ridley faced south and jumped. Her wings caught the breeze and carried her out of the city. It was a clear day with strong winds and she glided on them to her destination. When necessary, she created thermals with fire spells. After half an hour of this, Zettai mustered up enough courage to ask, “What’s your classification?”

  Ridley smiled. “Mana-breed, like you and your father. Unlike Eric and Nolien, I did not mana mutate. What I did was more specific and controlled, though no less dangerous.”

  She flapped her golden dragon wings to catch another thermal.

  Zettai looked down upon the landscape. She admired the snow-covered plains outside Roalt, but there was also a good deal of slush and mud spoiling the view. Spring came earlier in Ataidar than in other countries thanks to Fiol’s influence. Still, she liked seeing it because it was a novelty. Ceiha never had snow.

  Ridley flew by a small mountain to cross the Isle of Tsiaq, an inland island. Its moat was still somewhat frozen but no longer thick enough to safely walk across. Little tufts of snow clung to trees and lay across the isle itself. The Tsiaq forest was bare and would remain so for months to come. Zettai had learned about it from her tutor’s initial lessons. Imagining small birds pecking Eric while he harvested their poop made her giggle.

  “That will be you soon,” Ridley said as if she read Zettai’s mind.

  This ceased her amusement. Then she screamed because a monster had lunged from the forest and soared towards them! Ridley snapped the fingers of one hand and a gust sprang up out of nowhere to hammer it back to the ground.

  Along the way, the trio encountered many flying monsters. Such was Ridley’s spiritual power that she could frighten most of them away, but others lacked such a survival instinct. They quickly fell to her silent spells. Zettai’s favorite was the time she forwent spells entirely and used a breath weapon.

  Several hours passed before Mt. Fiol appeared on the horizon and, by then, Zettai was cold despite her winter clothing. Ridley was fine despite her dragon-like qualities. If the chill bothered Neuro, he neither said so nor gave any sign of it. She chalked it up to a death priest ability that “dust minds” like herself couldn’t use and admired the volcano.

  Mt. Fiol was a magnificent sight from a distance. Snow was all around it yet nowhere on it; the white contrasted the brown and black stone. The early evening light further contrasted and highlighted them. Central Heart looked better from this angle as well. It heartened her to see that reconstruction was proceeding smoothly.

  Ridley adjusted her wings to descend and circled the city square of Central Hearth until she touched down. Then she put Zettai on her feet and dropped Neuro on his stomach. One of the fire clerics ran off at the sight of her while another extended a greeting. She asked them about this and that until Cremia appeared, with Ash at her heels.

  “Good day, Dragoness. I am Cremia Alieos, the temporary representative of Central Hearth. To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”

  “This kid here,” Ridley nudged Neuro, “is having a crisis of faith and I figured a demonstration of the Fire Faithful theology will put that to rest.”

  Cremia’s polite smile became saccharinely sweet. “I would be happy to mend a fellow cleric’s faith with my own and fill any holes in doctrinal understanding he may have.”

  Her brother sneered.

  Neuro glowered and turned around. “This was a mistake! I’m leaving!”

  Ridley grabbed his hood. “You promised to behave yourself, remember?”

  Neuro slouched and allowed himself to be led by the fire clerics. Ridley was about to follow them when she heard someone shout, “Dragoness! Is that you?”

  She turned around to see Tiza and Nolien. Both of them were dusty and sweaty from reconstruction work. Tiza’s hair was truly dirty blond and Nolien’s white horn appeared brown. Ridley flapped her wings.

  “Do you know any other golden dragonoids?”

  Suddenly, Tiza was self-conscious of her dirty state and non-warrior attire, and she desperately looked for some remedy without trying to look like she was doing so. Ridley took pity on her and said, “I hear you defeated a reaper the other day.”

  “You heard about that?! Yeah, I did!...But I took him by...I mean, he was distracted, and I was riding Tenderfoot, I mean Nolien, and it umm...”

  “Regardless, it is impressive. I expect great things from you, Tiza.”

  This made the young warrior swoon. Nolien caught her.

  Ridley smiled to herself and followed Cremia.

  Through a shrine to Fiol, underneath the ground, and into the tunnels the five of them walked. All the way there, Cremia spoke of the doctrine of the Fire Faithful and how it can supplement that of Momento Mori’s, or rather, complete it. Neuro gritted his teeth and clutched his scythe but said nothing in rebuttal.

  Annala was brushing her hair when they approached. Sensing their presence, she turned the brush back into her right hand and put her hood up. When they arrived, they found Priestess standing guard.

  “Turn around and walk away,” she said. “I don’t care if a fire cleric is with you, no one is getting past me.”

  Zettai stepped forward. “Hi Priestess...I’m Zettai Bladi, it’s a long story but...um...this death priest needs to see Eric, to resolve a crisis of faith, so he’ll die to absolve me of my death violations, which are poisoning my clan, and got my dad...” Her voice broke and she trailed off.

  Priestess blinked. “Your dad? Basilard Bladi is your dead, I mean, dad?”

  Zettai nodded. The tears in her eyes at the word “dead” made Annala’s heart clench. Silently, she cursed The Trickster. It was just his style to arrange for her to be confronted by her victim’s daughter on the very same day she killed him.

  Then she considered the death priest. He stood tall and proud, but she could look deeper. One of the blessings of Lady Chaos allowed her to see underneath the physical and look directly at someone’s essence. She discovered that Neuro was much like she herself used to be; desperately trying to be true to his religion but also disillusioned with it and seeking answers.

  “...Okay, he can come, but h
e can’t bring his scythe or any other weapon, including his magic, and he has to stay out of arm’s reach.”

  Neuro shook his head. Then Ridley smacked it and he nodded. He put his scythe on the ground and demonstrated that he wasn’t carrying anything else. Ridley gave him a pat on the back and pushed him forward.

  “Thank you for humoring me,” Priestess said to Ridley.

  “What do you mean?”

  Priestess’s shoulders bunched. “I’m not sure I could have stopped you...”

  “Let’s not find out, huh?”

  Priestess nodded and escorted Neuro inside. Perrault stood in front of the door and snarled at those who remained.

  Inside the hallowed room, Neuro’s jaw dropped. For a full minute, all he did was stare. Priestess waited for him to say something or take a hostile action, but he did nothing. Finally, “Is this what I think it is?” he asked.

  “What do you think it is?” Priestess asked in reply.

  He stepped forward and Priestess’ staff shot out like a viper to arrest his progress. He shifted his feet to look her in the eyes.

  “A funeral pyre.”

  “You could say that,” she said, eyes hard. “He is, in a sense, dying right now. More specifically, he is making a transition from mortal to immortal.” She withdrew her staff. “It’s no different than what you will do someday.”

  “You’re not worried?” he asked.

  “About what?” she asked in reply.

  “Surely he will be affected by such a profound transformation in his spirit! What if he’s no longer the one you love?”

  “Everybody changes all the time; that is fundamental to Church of Chaos doctrine. Elves are more aware of this than anyone because we have the perspective of ages to see the changes. However, things also stay the same and for the same reason.”

  “Excuse me?” Neuro asked.

  “I understand if you are confused,” Priestess said. “The Contradiction of Change is one of the many divine mysteries of the Church of Chaos. It may sound counter-intuitive, but most methods of immortality require that the user dies in the process. Likewise, change is required to stay the same because too much sameness causes change. This is why my religion’s doctrine preaches deliberate change.”

  “What if he’s no longer the one you love?” Neuro asked again.

  “Then I will have the pleasure of falling in love with him all over again. Besides, I doubt this change will be more severe than the time he turned into a grendel. I still loved him after that, although at the time, it was more infatuation, I’ll admit, and I will love him after this. After we spend a thousand years or so together, I imagine we’ll both be different.”

  She pointed her free hand at Eric.

  “You didn’t come here to talk with me. You came to overcome a faulty faith. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve met lots of reapers and they’re all better than Gruffle and Reno Grade.”

  Neuro stared. He contemplated the flames around Eric and what he knew about Eric himself. Time passed, but he didn’t know how much. It bothered him! He had duties to perform. He didn’t have the luxury of staring at some otherworlder trying to cheat Lord Death!

  The golden flames roared up and surged forth. Caught unaware, Neuro didn’t bring up his barrier and the divine flames ignited him. Past his cloak, past his skin, and beyond his physical existence, the flames burned; a soul deep roast. He rolled around on the ground, screaming in torment. Still the flames clung to him. They refused to go out. Neuro jumped to his feet, eyes bulging, and shouted, “You who does whatever he wants to pursue his own goals, I don’t like you! This world has rules! Though founded in Chaos, it is formed by Order; it is through Order that we live and through the Three Natural Order gods that our lives have structure!”

  He threw back his arms and screamed a battle cry. The flames turned dark and then they ceased to be flames. Pure necrotic energy surrounded him. Priestess recognized mana conversion when she saw it, and she wondered if Neuro did as well. The death priest pointed at Eric and she watched carefully to make sure he didn’t use necrocraft.

  “You who says that alignment is good or evil, chaotic or orderly, I despise you! None of those are real. Death treats all the same. From his position above good and evil, above chaos and order, only Death is truly fair; only Death is truly just. Any reaper who does not reflect this must be corrected and I will be the one to correct them! The true path is the middle path of impartiality. Never compassionate nor cruel; neither altruistic nor hedonistic. If they violate the rule of Lord Death, then heroes and villains alike will fall to my scythe!”

  Eric smiled and the flames diminished to their previous level.

  “Are you...conscious?” Neuro asked. “Did you...what did he...”

  “Divine flames can burn the abstract,” Priestess said. She too was smiling, but it could not be seen underneath her hood. “Eric burned away your fear.”

  “...Yes...I believe you’re right...My earlier concerns seem...silly in retrospect.”

  “Annala Enaz took her faith casually and had no foundation before her crisis, and so it spun out of control and required drastic measures to resolve,” Priestess said. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Anyway, your beliefs were already well founded and well developed. The incident with Reno Grade and then Gruffle’s ascension was an unfortunate one-two punch. You just needed a metaphorical kick in the pants, which my beloved was willing to supply.”

  “Yes, I will have to thank him when he wakes up and find some way to repay him...Huh...A debt of this magnitude is Final Wish worthy...” He took a breath. “I am ready to do my duty as a necro priest.”

  The two of them left the chamber together and Priestess groaned at what she saw. Zettai was in Gruffle’s clutches and Ridley gnashed her teeth impotently.

  “How did this happen?” she asked.

  “No one sees death coming,” Gruffle said with a snigger, “especially immortals.”

  “I suppose you want one of us to kill Eric?” Priestess asked.

  “That would be great, but I also want a lock of your hair.” Before anyone could make a smart remark, he added, “I want it for a voodoo doll.”

  “Voodoo doesn’t exist,” Priestess said. “It was made up as a cover for sympathy magic.”

  “Really? I don’t care! I’m desperate enough to try anything.” Priestess hesitated. “Do it!” Gruffle demanded. “I could kill this girl with a thought. None of you are faster than that.”

  Priestess shook her head. “I’m sorry, Zettai, but I won’t make this deal. The damage Gruffle could do is too great. I can’t risk it. Nor are you more important to me than Eric.”

  “I understand...” the girl said in a small voice. “No one has ever loved me except my second dad, and he’s in a coma for it.”

  “Don’t worry; he can’t kill her anyway.”

  Omnias came strolling down the tunnel towards the standoff. The Fire Sage sat in his chest harness and he held a bottle of milk in his right hand. He walked past Gruffle and stopped next to Annala.

  “I admire your commitment,” he told her. “I’ve seen other heroes cave immediately to the old Hostage for MacGuffin trick, but you, you stick to your guns. It’s a good thing too, because it would have been a senseless sacrifice.”

  He let go of the bottle so the Fire Sage could hold it. Then he pulled out a scroll and unfurled it.

  “According to this contract, signed by Benjamin E. Gruffle, the reaper known as Benjamin E. Gruffle is obligated to pardon Zettai Bladi of all death violations for the express purpose that she may live without endangering the rest of the Bladi Clan. This is in exchange for Basilard Bladi murdering Eric Watley. As Basilard Bladi was injured to the point of a comatose state in attempting to fulfill his end of the contract, then Benjamin E. Gruffle, in good faith, may not take any action that would inhibit him from fulfilling his own end of the contract.”

  “Contracts are just pieces of paper!”

  The reaper troll squeezed his fing
ers to crush Zettai, but his hand locked. He attempted to spear her eyes with his other hand, but it stopped a millimeter in front of them. He tried to drain her life away, but the power wouldn’t activate.

  “Book of Death Volume 10: Chapter 13: lines 68-70: ‘As the reason for existence of all reapers is to ensure the stability of reality, all reapers must fulfill every contract they sign to both the letter and spirit. This shall remain the case regardless of the presence or absence of a contract that is itself supernaturally binding.' The rule is clear,” Neuro said. “You might as well release her.”

  Gruffle muttered gibberish angry words but did as he was told. Zettai ran back to Ridley and grabbed her leg. The Dragoness patted her head and spoke soothingly to her. Neuro stepped between them and Gruffle.

  In his hands was a ceremonial dagger. At peace with his decision, he said, “No matter how imperfect I might be or dust-minded I remain, I will do my best to be a model reaper. I thank you for providing an example of what I should avoid.”

  He plunged the dagger into his heart. Immense pain contorted his face. Then he pulled it out and blood poured from the wound, staining his robes. He spun about to face Zettai and stroked her left cheek with the blunt side of his dagger. It left a bloody trail.

  “From the depths of the Abyss, I absolve thee,” he stroked her right cheek, “and for mercy’s sake, I give my last breath to thee.” He stroked her forehead. “Pardon of the Lamb.”

  Crying, Zettai said, “Thank you, Brother Neuro. Thank you very much.”

  Neuro nodded solemnly. “You are very welcome.”

  Black flames burst from his heart to form his funeral pyre. Samael, the overseer of necrocraft, appeared behind him. With the utmost care, she removed his soul from his body. He now stood beside her, in grander robes than before and with magnificent black wings. In his hands was a scythe with a copper shaft and an iron blade.

  The sight lifted Zettai’s heart, but Neuro himself was happier still. He smiled for the first time since she met him. Faster than mortals’ eyes could track, he gathered her in a tight hug.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you! You helped make my dream come true.” Then he returned to Samael’s side.