Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  “KALLEN!” Eric’s head soared past her. “We’re out of time.” Gunrai jammed an extraction tube into her. She grit her teeth against the pain.

  “Compared to you, his way of chaos is wrong,” Kallen said. “The fact that he imprisons you is proof of this! What branch of the Church of Chaos allows for such enslavement?”

  Kallen fell to her knees as her essence was taken from her.

  “...You’re right.”

  Annala’s eyes glowed. Gunrai snapped his fingers, but the red light no longer hurt Annala. Its energy only added to her personal store. She broke the chains and bent the cage bars. Then she pulled one out of its joint and transformed it into a priestly staff.

  “I already took your chaotic essence!” Gunrai declared. “I made a copy of it for my own use. You’re helpless against me!”

  “You have dredges.” A chaotic aura emerged from within her. “I have the genuine article.”

  The first round was a draw like Eric and Kallen, but every following round went to Annala. Her techniques were infinite while he had only one. At last, she struck him in the chest and pulled his head forwards. She glared at him with divine fury.

  “Blasphemer!”

  Gunrai’s body froze and then it shook violently. He fell and thrashed in spiritual suffering. Annala’s aura settled and she turned to Eric and Kallen.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through so much trouble to find me.”

  Kallen shrugged and rubbed her head. “What are sisters for?”

  Annala tapped her with the staff and restored her strength. She did the same to Eric and renewed both his spirit and body.

  “I assume you want to move to the third world?” They nodded. “Then as a priestess of Lady Chaos the Altruist, I want to help you.”

  She stepped around the still twitching Gunrai and pounded her staff against the door. It shimmered and the stairway transformed.

  “This will lead you to the third world.”

  Eric and Kallen performed Arin’s Triangle in thanks. With a radiant smile, she returned it.

  At the bottom of the stairs was not an ordercrafter courtyard. It was a library. Shelves the size of skyscrapers extended out into the horizon in every direction. Both paper books and papyrus scrolls rested within them, in addition to chambers for reliving the events themselves. This was not just any library, Eric realized, but Dnnac Ledo’s public library.

  “We’re looking for Annala the bookworm.”

  They checked aisle after aisle in search of her, but the library went on forever. They could walk in one direction for hours without seeing a hint of a wall. At last, they came into a clearing in the literary forest and found a single table. At this table was a stack of books and a cute girl wearing glasses.

  Eric often wondered how his girlfriend would look bespectacled and he had to say he liked what he saw. In fact, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her studying. Abruptly, she asked, “What is the primary hunting method of the Loini pigeon?”

  “In Mithra or Ataidar?” Eric asked in return.

  “Ataidar.”

  “Poop in large concentrations of prey and peck those least resilient to the smell.”

  Still, with her book in front of her, Annala asked, “What is the significance of the cone hats worn by the Cult of Organic Enlightenment?”

  “Socially, practically, or religiously?” Eric asked.

  “All three.”

  “Socially, they mark the cult so members can easily identify each other in new lands. Practically, they keep the silkworms, which are their livelihood, dry in the rain. Religiously, they are identical to the ‘dunce hats’ used in some schools and thus a reminder that no matter how ‘enlightened’ they may be, there is still more to learn.”

  Annala raised her face from her book. Her eyes were earnest and eager. “What is the question?”

  “What shall I do with eternal life, if I should do anything at all?” Eric answered. “What is the answer?”

  Annala grinned. “I’ll let you know when I find it.” She giggled. “Thanks for stopping by. No one else has passed all three questions. The students are so below my level that there’s no point in talking to them. You have no idea what it’s been like to live here. “

  “Academically or otherwise?” Kallen asked.

  “Ah, you must be one of those trade school students,” Annala said. “Out learning practical ‘real world’ skills, am I right?”

  “You could say that,” Kallen replied.

  “I understand,” Annala said. “Mortals don’t have time to indulge their intellectual whims like elves do, neither by the day nor the life.” She leaned forward and placed her chin in her hands. “Some days I find myself wondering about such a life.”

  “It’s not easy or simple,” Kallen said.

  Annala leaned up. “I know that, but the big questions can be put off indefinitely. Between work, family, and other obligations, mortals don’t have to answer them. An elf has no choice.”

  “It seems to me like you have your answer already,” Kallen said.

  Annala sat up sharply. “I do?”

  “You like reading and learning, right?” Kallen asked. Annala nodded. “Then just keep doing that. It might lead you to something else, but in the meantime, it by itself can be its own end.”

  “You know, Sister Sagart said something like that before I left...” Annala said. “You wouldn’t happen to be a Chaosist by any chance, would you?”

  “I am indeed.” Kallen jerked her thumb at Eric. “He’s a chaotic naytheist.”

  “I’d like to speak with both of you more,” Annala said. “Do you have time?”

  “We have all the time in the world,” Eric said.

  For time uncountable, the three of them spoke of academic subjects, of themselves, and everything else. There was no sun to shine through the windows and no nearby clock to tick-tock. It could have been days or it could have been mere minutes. For immortals like ourselves, does it matter?

  Eric could spend all that time and more like this. Here was the aspect of Annala he originally met. This was the one he fell in love with and vowed to protect. He didn’t have to leave immediately. There was no harm in staying a little longer.

  “Are you serious?” Annala exclaimed.

  “I am,” Kallen said.

  “But it’s just a legend! A necessary part of the Elven Origin Story.”

  “It’s real. I flew over it. I didn’t land and go in but it was definitely the Gorge of Primordial Cycle.”

  “Wow...so it exists,” Annala said. “That means Arin really did do all those things...I mean, it’s possible. Just that the location is real doesn’t mean that folklore is true.”

  “It would make for a fascinating study, don’t you think?” Kallen asked.

  “Surely it would be too dangerous to go...” She trailed off and looked away from Kallen.

  “Too dangerous to go to the Gorge?” Kallen asked. “Or too dangerous to leave the library?”

  “The Gorge, of course,” Annala said. “There’s nothing to learn outside the library, so it’s simply a waste of time to leave.”

  “Have you heard of Ping Ling, a Sage of Anich?” Eric asked.

  Annala turned back to face him. When this is over, I’m definitely getting a pair of nonprescription glasses for her to wear. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

  “I’m not surprised,” Eric said. “He didn’t write any of your books because he believed that true knowledge couldn’t be contained in books. We only know of him from references in the writings of his disciples and rivals.”

  Annala looked back to the book forest and said politely, “There is indeed something to be said for experience, but...”

  “Think of how much more you could learn about the Gorge by going in person,” Eric said. “No matter what we find there, I promise you that I will protect you from it.”

  Annala blushed and twiddled her fingers while averting her eyes. The sight strengthened Eric’s desire to protect her fro
m everything in the world.

  “O...Okay. Let’s go.”

  The library’s exit shimmered and the four of them crossed over.

  Outside Dnnac Ledo’s public library was Dnnac Ledo itself. To Eric’s disappointment, Bookworm Annala was nowhere to be seen. Perrault dope-slapped him. Then she stepped forward, spun on her heel, and gestured to the sage tree.

  “Welcome to the root.”

  “You mean this is the final world?” Eric asked.

  “It could be, but more to the point, it is the root of Annala. Everything you know about her came from this village.”

  “Are you telling us to go to the sage tree?” Kallen asked.

  “Possibly,” Perrault said. “I’m going there so you can decide to go as well.”

  They didn’t pass a single person on their way to the heart of the village. It may as well have been deserted. This unsettled Eric. He looked for subtle signs of conflict until Kallen assured him that it was a metaphor.

  “It’s either that or Annala is screening them out for our safety.”

  “I hope it’s the latter,” Eric said. “Meza stabbed me in the back the first time I came here.”

  The entrance to Dnnac’s interior opened before Perrault and then shut in Eric’s face. Kallen walked in without a problem, but Eric was again denied entry. The entrance even expelled him when Kallen held the door open for him.

  “She’s ashamed,” he realized. “Whatever personality lives here, she can’t bear for me to meet it.”

  He placed his forehead against the tree’s trunk. “Annala, you know that I love you. I accept all your faults and failings. If this is what I think it is, then I understand why you did it. The only things that stopped me from doing the same were my lack of your knowledge and sureness of purpose. Please let me in.”

  The door opened.

  “Thank you.”

  Perrault and Kallen were waiting on the other side. To him, the tunnels were confusing, but they walked without hesitation. They led him to their destination without erring once. The door to the Chapel of Arin was an elegant golden-brown arc and two crude wood carvings in the shape of Order Obelisks flanked it.

  “Oh, Annala...”

  All the runes were deliberately flawed to prevent them from working, but the intent of the message was clear. It was worse inside.

  The Three Statues of Arin were symbolically defaced. The one with the broken shackles had a daisy chain connecting her wrists and earmuffs on her head. The one with the microscope and telescope was blindfolded and tar blocked both instruments. Finally, the one with the staff and book was gagged and the runes of its tools sanded off. All of them wore scarves made to look like Subjugation Collars.

  Every Flower of Chaos in the room, from the large ones in the corners to the tiny ones on the books of common prayer in the pews, were redrawn. The image of Tasio was cut down and wrapped in its own string. Finally, the golden-brown cornucopia was painted silver-grey. The heretic herself was just putting away her brush when they came in.

  At the sight of them, she paled. She dropped her brush. She turned around, spat on her shirt, and rubbed at the paint on the cornucopia.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to let humans in!” Abruptly, she stopped. Instead, she spat directly on the cornucopia. “No! I’m not sorry. Humans can’t get in. The security tree doesn’t operate here. It’s in the roots. Chaotic energy is different from chaos; like air and oxygen.”

  She took another glance at the trio. Picking up her brush, she waved it back and forth as if to paint over them. Then she cautiously stepped forward and poked Eric with the brush. She did it twice more before he took it from her. She jumped in fright and tripped over her own feet.

  “You’re really here!”

  She crab-walked in reverse until her back hit the podium. Her eyes darted from one defaced statue to another and then to the image she cut down, and then back to the intruders. She breathed fast and shallow while repeatedly doing one half of the Triangle of Arin and then smacking herself for doing so.

  Eric willed himself to look like an elf. Changing the color of his hair and the shape of his ears was easy, and its effect was immediate. This younger Annala calmed down. No longer afraid, she stood up proudly. With her head held high and her shoulders back, she proclaimed, “Yes, I did all this. I researched all the sacrilege that one could do in Arin’s Chapel and I performed all of them. You know why? Because she’s a fraud! She and Tasio both. I came to show the truth to everyone!”

  Suddenly, she slouched and moved her elbows forward and held her hands near her mouth. Her legs shook with fright.

  “What am I saying?! Of course they’re not frauds; the proof is in my own skin. It heals every time I cut it, without magic. That can’t be anything but Lady Chaos’s love!”

  Just as suddenly, she snarled and straightened.

  “She’s just prolonging my misery. She wants me to be confused, the erratic fiend. If she really loved elves, then she would have turned Uncle Mori into an elf for Aunt Triste! She did that in the Conversion War for Lady Novlius I of Crowitas, so I know that it’s possible!”

  She smacked herself on the head. “Idiot! She can’t do that! I know she can’t do that! Such a transformation was a vital factor in that stage of the Conversion War! I’m just a simple mortal with scant years of wisdom and she’s the Grandmother of Creation! Surely she knows best.”

  Her legs collapsed and she bawled into her arms.

  “Then why did she take away my shapeshifting?! Why did she make me static?! What possible good can come from that?!” She sobbed and shook. “I feel so powerless and empty. Lady Chaos, I beg you, fill me with your grace!”

  She struck herself again.

  “Of course, you won’t. Not after what I’ve done. What I keep doing. You’ve forsaken me and so has everyone else...”

  She pulled a kitchen knife from her pocket and put it to her opposite wrist. Eric was there in a flash with the knife’s blade trapped in his palm. His grendel fist kept it isolated.

  “There’s no need for that,” he said firmly.

  “Of course there’s need!” Annala shrieked. “This is the only way I can reassure myself!”

  “There are other ways than self-harm.”

  Annala laughed uproariously. “I’m not in any danger from this. No danger at all! With the right herbs, I don’t feel any pain either, so I’m not one of those ‘it’s better to feel pain than be numb’ wackos! This is a simple test, like checking bread for mold!”

  She tugged on the knife, but Eric’s grip was solid. She couldn’t budge it. Instead, she let go of the knife and stuck her tongue out at him. It was bleeding. She touched the tip with her finger to confirm the blood, wiped it away, and then checked again. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. That was all it took for her to compose herself. She wiped her eyes, stood up, and said, “Where’s Sister Saggy Guts? I want her to see my good work.”

  She walked past Eric, paused, and turned around.

  “Who are you, anyway? I know everyone in this village because every single one of them has pointed, laughed, scorned, and declared me ‘anathema.’”

  “I’m a visitor from another village,” Eric said. “My name is Eric Watley.”

  “‘Eric’... that sounds like ‘Arik’, who was the 5th known Chaos Avatar in Tariatla.”

  Eric smiled. Annala sneered.

  “They say he was Dengel’s mentor, so he’s the most despised of all the Chaos Avatars.” She sniggered all the way out of the chapel.

  “Was she really like this?” Eric asked.

  “She was actually worse in real life,” Kallen said. “She thinks I’m the best big sister ever because I didn’t treat her any differently. I also dragged her to the rectory and sat on her so Sister Sagart could counsel her.”

  Outside, the trio found Annala walking past a jeering crowd. They pointed as they chanted, “Apostate! Apostate! Sta-tic apostate!” Some performed Arin’s Triangle as if she were some evil thing and others i
gnored her to the point of bumping into her and knocking her down. She picked herself up and shouted, “Crazy dagger ears!” after them.

  She didn’t run home. On the contrary, she presented herself and her bruises to the jeering crowd so they could see her Seed of Chaos mending her injuries. They stopped jeering and spat on her instead. She tackled one of them and pummeled him. His fellows pulled her off and pummeled her in return.

  “You’re handling this well,” Perrault said to Eric.

  “I have transcended monster instincts just as I have human ones,” Eric replied. “Besides, ripping them apart would not solve this problem.”

  By the time Annala stepped inside the Enaz household, all of her bruises were gone. Her tears were dried and wiped away. She joined her family at the dinner table without giving any sign that she had just been in a fight.

  “We never got away with fights in real life,” Kallen remarked as she followed Annala inside, “because my bruises didn’t heal fast enough.”

  There was a place at the table set for her and it was next to a guest. She wore a paidrin and carried a staff. On her back was a bow, a quiver, and a travel bag. At her side was a golden-brown wolf. Despite the hood obscuring her face, there was only one person this could be.

  “Priestess,” Eric said, “what brings you here?”

  “This and that,” the cleric replied. “I heard something was amiss, so I came to visit.”

  “R-really?” Annala asked. “Y-you...mea...” She swallowed. “I’m news in other villages?”

  “I’ve heard of it at least,” Priestess said. “I can’t speak for anyone else.”

  “Good!” Annala declared. “It should be news; good news.”

  “Yes, you’ve proven everyone wrong,” Forge said. “You’ve upset long-standing beliefs.”

  Annala smiled. Forge sneered.

  “Between the two of us, I’m not the evil twin.”

  He sniggered and Annala whimpered. Nunnal tugged his ear.

  “This is no laughing manner,” she said. “Apologize to your sister.”

  “…Ow! Okay...My apologies to the apostate OWWWW! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  “It’s time to eat. Kallen, your guests are welcome to join us.”