Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  Eric sat up. Perrault pushed him back down.

  He smirked. “Does that mean my maiden has decided to become the dragon in our relationship? Where is she? I want to speak with her.”

  Perrault straddled him and placed her other hand on his other shoulder. “She is all around you. The tranquility you feel is her love for you.” She pushed him flat, lay over him, and embraced him. “Let it lull you to sleep.”

  It was an immense presence; a comforting and soothing presence. Sleeping in peace and contentment in this zone of perfect safety sounded more appealing by the second. Eric closed his eyes.

  The fire in his heart flickered but did not go out. Instead, it burned brighter. The area’s enforced tranquility only made it burn hotter. His eyes opened and they shined with it. Eric pushed Perrault aside and sat up.

  “Thanks but no thanks. If I were to sleep here forever, I might as well be dead.”

  Perrault tried to push him down again, but Eric caught her wrist.

  “When I first arrived in this world, Basilard asked me if I had a dream. I told him I didn’t. Now I do. I still want to be better than Dengel; not to blacken his name but to carry his legacy. Training a new generation of mages, adding to the sum of magical knowledge and steadily improving myself because I can; these are things I want for myself. They are desires born from my heart and not someone’s expectations.”

  He stood up and pulled Perrault with him.

  “Besides, Annala needs my help, even if she doesn’t realize it.” He made his own sweeping gesture over the landscape. “This place looks golden-brown, but it should be silver-grey. In fact, it is identical in nature to the cell I tore Annala out of.”

  Perrault sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.” She dusted herself off. “I warned Annala that you wouldn’t like it, but she insisted on keeping you in swaddling clothes.”

  “I presume you know where I want to go next.”

  Perrault scoffed. “Of course I do. If there’s one place in her world that Annala didn’t want you to go after leaving your own sphere, it’s there.”

  “Will you take me there?”

  “No.”

  The human range of facial expressions is greater than that of a wolf, even a chaotic wolf like Perrault. Thus, Perrault’s human face was better at expressing her opinion of Eric and his question: an idiot and a waste of time, respectively.

  “Perrault, Annala means the world to me, but Kallen is important as well.” Taking her other hand and looking into her eyes, Eric asked again, “Please, take me to her.”

  Perrault averted her eyes from his and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. “Fine.” She turned away from him entirely and dragged him along. “She’s over this way.”

  Eric smiled. “Thank you.”

  Perrault faced resolutely forward. “Don’t thank me, thank Annala. This is only because her feelings bleed into me.”

  Perrault led him through the idyllic golden meadow to a pair of trees standing side by side. She put her hand on the air between them and a membrane rippled under her fingertips. With Eric’s nose in her other hand, she walked through it and pulled him along.

  The new area was grey and metallic. It was loud with steam and the hum of electricity. In the center of this mad scientist laboratory stood Kallen. She stood alone. When she saw Perrault, she fixed the familiar with an icy stare.

  “If Annala weren’t my little sister, I’d slap her.”

  “I’m sure she will apologize profusely if you can reach her,” Perrault remarked dryly.

  “That she will...” Kallen clasped her hands behind her back and strolled around the area. Though her posture was loose, Eric could see plenty of tension. “Inner World Physical Manifestations is impressive. I’ll compliment her on it to stop the blubbering.”

  “Inner World Physical Manifestations?” Eric asked.

  Kallen stopped and leaned forward. “You haven’t read about them? I’m not surprised. They’re so rare and esoteric that most people haven’t. Fortunately, I’ve spent a lot more time in Dnnac Ledo’s public library than you have.”

  She waved her arm through the air and gathered up the glowing ethereal mass. Pressing it between her fingers and then stretching it out, she formed it into a new shape. Pressing it against her forehead, it shimmered and took form. She was now holding a snow globe replicating the scene around them.

  “Inner World Physical Manifestations are what happens when the contents of the mind and soul are translated from the abstractions of the mind and soul themselves to physical reality. It’s used by mystics and monks and such to better understand themselves and each other, but can also be used to influence physical reality.”

  “Like a daydream taking place outside of someone’s mind?” Eric asked.

  “Sort of,” Perrault continued. “It’s more like a memory than a daydream. In most cases, the Inner World Physical Manifestation is little more than a museum dedicated to a single person, the user. The walls aren’t solid enough to keep people in or out, and the zone itself isn’t potent enough to replace external reality, and instead only superimposes itself on top of it. The greatest effect mortal practitioners can achieve is only to immerse someone else in an experience and influence their thoughts and feelings with the user’s own. A handful might be able to increase the odds of a die landing on a certain number, but that is it.”

  “Ah, so it’s more like a glorified Evil Eye than magecraft,” Eric said.

  “Correct.” Perrault glared at Kallen for talking at the same time as herself. Kallen held up her hands in appeasement. Perrault continued on her own.

  “Annala’s soul has been tainted by Lady Chaos herself and because of this it is far more powerful than any other soul on this planet. It is why she can change physical reality so freely. She created me from her mind and gave me a solid form so I could exist outside of her mind. If someone capable of rewriting physical reality were to create an Inner World Physical Manifestation, it would be its own separate and independent reality.”

  “Are you saying that Annala created her own pocket dimension?” Eric asked.

  “No,” Perrault said. “I’m saying that she took the dimension inside of herself and moved it outside of herself. What was that term Threans use...copy/paste! Yes, she copied her internal world and pasted it onto the region where you currently were/are. That region of the Latlis Sea? It no longer exists. It’s gone. Only this area exists in its place.”

  “Earlier, you said Annala was all around me,” Eric said. “Does that mean this area is her new body?”

  “It is the manifestation of her physical existence, yes, but technically, it is her soul,” Perrault said. “Did you think elven shapeshifting extended only to the physical?”

  “ANNALA!”

  “She can’t hear you,” both Kallen and Perrault said at once. The former sent an imploring look to the latter, who shrugged.

  “In this realm,” Kallen continued, “Annala is everywhere and nowhere. She is the omnipotent goddess who controls everything but also the hands-off deity who lets things happen on their own. You could say she’s a miniature Lady Chaos nursing her own little Noitearc.”

  “And if you want to talk to the goddess,” Eric said, “you go to her inner sanctuary?”

  Kallen drew a circle in the air and drew successively bigger circles around it. Then she pointed to the center and said, “As this is Annala’s soul, it contains her personality. If you want to dismantle this area, then you have to convince the part controlling it to do so. Surrounding it will be other parts.”

  “They act like walls around a citadel,” Perrault said. “Annala wants to keep you out in order to preserve this area’s stability. On the other hand, she doesn’t want to trap you here. This paradox creates an opening for you to reach her...That opening is me.”

  Perrault rotated her right hand and created a circle of runes. These and other glyphs rotated like the gears of a lock. One and then another until they stopped with a clicking noise. Then the
y transformed into the shape of a gate.

  “We will start with the overt reason for this dimension.”

  On the other side was a springtime field. It had green grass, flowering trees, crushed crops, and many, many mangled corpses. It was the sight of a slaughter and it made Eric hungry. Leaving his body, he felt a desire to incinerate them instead. Then one of the corpses stood up.

  “The turtle and the hair are running to and fro, but no one knows where the mangos go.”

  A second corpse stood up and said, “Twinkle fire in the mouth of an alien.”

  A third stood up and said, “None of the seeds are fruitful; none of the sheep are clever.”

  And so it went with all of them; they stood up and spoke gibberish. Horrible wounds did not stop them. Even those that were beheaded or lacking tongues mimed nonsense instead. Then an arrow fell from the sky and exploded in their midst.

  Golden-brown light washed over the field and vaporized the undead. Not a single corpse remained when the light faded.

  “Fantastic!”

  A square platform of light descended from the sky. Its passengers were an elven girl and a human boy. The former wore a golden-brown robe and carried a bow and quiver. The latter’s robe was solid black and in his hand was a scythe. The elf jumped down and declared, “One hit polykill! Am I good or what?”

  “Annala!”

  The girl turned at the sound of her name and said, “Who are you, and how do you know me?”

  “I’m Eric and—”

  Kallen stepped in front of him and said, “He’s a fan of your work. We both are.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. We’ve heard stories of your tireless efforts to stem the zombie population’s growth,” Kallen said. “We owe the peace in our lives to you and your partner.”

  “Well, don’t that beat all!” The elf answering to the name of “Annala” turned to the black-robed boy and said, “Who says cleaner cleric is a thankless job?”

  The death priest was engaged in a scythe dance. To anyone else, it appeared an empty ritual, but Eric could see its purpose. He was slicing the spirits that remained on the battlefield. By cutting their connection to this place, they could cross over to the Abyss. When he finished, he threw back his hood and said, “I stand corrected.”

  It was Neuro. Eric didn’t sense any divinity within him, so it couldn’t be the real Neuro. He decided that this “Neuro” was a projection of this world designed to play a specific role, similar to an NPC from a video game.

  “Priestess,” Kallen asked, “do you know the root cause of the zombie infestation?”

  Annala scowled and gripped her bow tightly. “That rotten reaper, Gruffle! He abuses his power over the dead to cause trouble in our land. The increase in battles, the quicker fatalities, and the rise of the corpses are all his fault!”

  Neuro, in a professional tone, added, “On behalf of Momento Mori, I apologize for the trouble he has caused. We are petitioning Lord Death for a replacement and punishment, but our prayers have not yet been answered.”

  “Do you know why Gruffle is doing this?” Eric asked. “We’re mercenaries and perhaps we could be of assistance.”

  Annala laughed heartily. “Your ‘cold iron’ can’t hurt Gruffle and you’re redundant in dealing with the zombies. Just leave this to the clerics and go back to monster duty.”

  Neuro flicked the side of her head. “I also apologize for my partner. She means well. Now, if you will excuse us, we must move on to the next area.”

  The two clerics jumped onto their magic platform and flew off into the distance.

  “This is like a visual novel,” Eric thought aloud. “Winning the game is not as simple as braving a dungeon and killing the boss. This area is a metaphor for an aspect of her personality and we have to resolve that personality’s conflict.” He looked to Perrault. “Right?”

  “I’m not saying a word.”

  “I say this world represents her conflicted feelings about Death, his corps, and his function,” Kallen said. “She feared it more than anything for a of couple years and by the time she overcame it, she gained a reaper for an arch-enemy. She fought Neuro for two months straight and yet here he is as her clerical partner.”

  “In that case, I have an idea.” Eric pulled out his staff and swung it in an arc. The spirit light and chaos blade illuminated and left a trail of mana in their wake. He danced in mimicry of Neuro but with his own movements and his own purpose.

  “I am the Reaper of Gods,” he intoned. “No immortals stand before me and no mortals stand behind me. I did not fail to kill everyone in the celestial realm nor have I left any survivors in the nether realm. From world fruit to world fruit, and harvest to harvest, my mark is made. Your prayers won’t save you,”

  The energy trailing from the crystal became an opaque blade. It shifted from blue mana to white kon to grey paku and finally the golden-brown of chaos. The blade lengthened and curved until it pointed at its own handle. Eric swung once more and posed.

  “CHAOS SCYTHE!”

  Kallen put a hand to her cheek. “You know, that just might work. All we have to do is catch up to Annala, convince her to watch, and then hold Gruffle down while you reap him.”

  “That plan isn’t going to work,” Perrault said.

  “Why not?” Eric asked. “It’s simple, flexible and chaos trumps reaper immortality.”

  “Irrelevant,” the familiar replied. “Did you forget already? Annala is aware of everything that happens here. Speaking your plan aloud means she heard it and won’t let it happen.”

  “I have a different opinion,” Eric said. “She will be encouraged by our plan and her belief in us will help us win.”

  “Whatever you say, mercenary. Try all you want. It’s not like you can die here.”

  Eric grabbed Kallen’s hand and took flight with air avatarcraft. His soulmate yelped and wriggled in the air behind him. Perrault ascended next to Kallen and took her other hand.

  “Tell me if you spot a river,” Eric said.

  “Why would...” Kallen asked. “...oh. Sure. Got it.”

  This world appeared to be based on a medieval Isaryu countryside and this guaranteed that certain characteristics would be in effect. Sure enough, once they found a river, it was only a matter of time before they found a water mill, and after that, a town. Landing on the outskirts, they headed for the slums. There, they found Annala healing the residents.

  They brought her people covered in boils, black sores, or decayed skin. She touched them and prayed over them, and the symptoms disappeared before their eyes. They thanked her and others replaced them. It was an endless stream of unwashed victims, yet Annala smiled for each one of them.

  Her care and compassion were as endless as the Branches of Noitearc and as deep as the Sea of Chaos. Eric leaned against a wall and watched her work. His angel in her element; this was something he could spend eternity enjoying.

  Kallen snorted and walked forward. “These are the symptoms of necro poisoning.”

  “That’s right,” Annala said, her hand on someone’s forehead.

  “Gruffle’s doing?”

  “Naturally.” This time, Annala helped a woman with withered legs to stand up.

  “It would be more efficient to kill him,” Kallen said.

  Annala ruffled a boy’s hair and sent him back to his mother. “Yes, it would, but that’s not something I can do,” she said as she rubbed a woman’s sores into non-existence.

  “Why not?” Kallen asked.

  Annala shook hands with a grateful man. “Have you heard of the phrase ‘the problem with fighting death’?”

  “‘No matter what, you will eventually lose,’” Kallen replied.

  “That’s right,” Annala said. “There will be another reaper, and even if this one is more benevolent than Gruffle, I’ll be punished for killing his predecessor. That means dodging reapers for eternity.” She knelt and hugged a dog that was half-hairless due to necro-poisoning.


  “What if I told you that we can kill him for you?”

  “I’d tell you that it’s suicide for a layman.” Annala picked up a pinch of dust, sanctified it with her spit, and then tossed it into the face of an elderly man. He thanked her for the blessing. “Even if you succeeded, the next reaper would kill you.”

  “We’re willing to make that sacrifice for the good of everyone,” Kallen said. “Even if our odds of success are only 0.0001 percent, doesn’t chaotic doctrine preach that it is worth the risk to change a dreadful status quo?”

  Annala ministered to a blind woman so she didn’t have to answer immediately. Then she said, “Theory is nice, but I have to work with practicalities.”

  “Uprooting the source of corruption is far more efficient than simply treating symptoms. All these people will be back tomorrow. Do you enjoy their adoration or are you scared of Gruffle?”

  “I’m not afraid of Death! I just recognize that one can’t win against him because he’s a fundamental aspect of reality.”

  Kallen put her hands on her hips, leaned forward, and smirked. “Then prove it. Blaspheme him right here and right now.”

  “Fine!” Annala shouted. “Neuro, make sure you get this down!”

  Her clerical partner appeared out of the crowd, i.e. from nowhere, with a scroll handy.

  “That moth-ridden faux fiend can jump into the Sea of Chaos!” Annala screamed. “His scythe is made of deadwood and iron pyrite. The only way he facilitates the cycle of spirits is by knocking them back in a cheap pub! He’s so fat he can’t fit through the Door of Death!”

  Said door appeared behind her and Gruffle emerged from it. This projection was even uglier than its real life counterpart and so fat that he really did get stuck. This provided Eric ample time to lop his head off with the chaos scythe.

  The neck bled smog and its body reached for its head. Eric cut its arms off and then grabbed the hood of its cloak. With a single heave, he pulled Gruffle’s dismembered body out of the Door of Death and dropped it on the ground. Still, the reaper sought to replace its lost pieces, so Eric slashed it twice more and, all at once, they dissolved.