“So, Unbroken?” I prompted. Though I was watching the back of her head, I’m pretty sure she rolled her eyes again.
“The Unbroken are legends, much like the lost tribe. Supposedly, they were a person who could access all four manipulations.” She held up four fingers, turning to watch me. “The physicals—manipulation of an element,” one finger went down, “the manipulation of raw will externally,” another finger down, “internal physical, such as muscle enhancing,” the third finger joined the other four, “and finally, mental manipulation. Also known as enhancement. The key to it all.”
Cassiopia and I both nodded politely, not understanding a bit.
“I assume there are those that can control an element, but can’t do what you do, yes?” she asked, still walking.
“That’s right,” I agreed.
“And if they do try and become like you, they lose their previous ability, yes?” Shazina continued.
“Of course,” I chuckled. “When you unlock the one mindset, the other gets scrambled. And you can’t go back, either. No one can learn to be a Natural. Everyone knows that.”
She began climbing a rope ladder that was strategically attached between two levels for quicker access. “See, the unbroken didn’t have that problem. And all four techniques can be learned by almost anyone.” She looked at me knowingly. “There are those who can’t unbreak their minds, no matter how hard they try. Those are the true broken. But everyone else, well they have the potential to be fully Unbroken, supposedly.”
Still skeptical, I followed until we found another spot to sit outside of traffic. Hard, but beautiful wood carved and polished by scuffling feet looked out over a network of minor bridges all made of rope.
“What are you needing from us?” I finally asked.
“Users. Those who can manipulate raw will.” She spoke flatly, but her age showed through her eyes, filled with anxiety.
“Why?” It was like pulling teeth getting an understandable answer.
She waited a moment, regaining that hard look. “To unlock the Unbroken.” She was exasperated, like this was obvious.
I snorted. “That sounds ridiculous. And doesn’t answer the question.”
When she said nothing, I shrugged. Then, I stood up, waved goodbye to Cassiopia with my too-large arrow. Shazina’s face hardened, but I just smiled and waved to her as well, turning away and sauntering slowly off.
“Fine!” An anguished noise followed me around the bend of a tree. She was by my side in an instant. No noise or indication of having moved faster than someone at an all-out sprint. “We managed to kill our false gods, and thought that would fix it. But, something else appeared. There’s a thing killing our people. They’re not human, but look like it.”
“And you need people like me, why?” The question hung between us as we passed a couple who obliviously strolled by, hand in hand. We walked across a few more bridges, an eternity it felt like, until she answered.
“They’re Gimzers, we think. Somehow, they’ve returned. No one’s seen it or them, but that’s the only possible explanation.” She visibly shuddered.
Despite the discomforting display of emotion, Gimzer meant nothing to me, nor it looked like Cassiopia based on the blank look she had. “What is that? And why is it a bad thing?” My voice was cheerful, and I realized I’d been subconsciously taking us to the western most side of Erset. Surely they had someone new in charge at this point. If not, I’d take her to check on Volant with me, and we’d try and figure it out from there.
“Have your people forgotten everything?” Shazina asked, disgust in her voice.
“Possibly?” I shrugged.
She let out a long, calming breath. “They are why the lost tribe, your ancestors, and all those who knew how to externally manipulate, fled across the causeway so long ago. Please, sit with me. This is a long story that you need to pay particular attention to if we’re going to do this properly.”
We moved to a secluded space where the bustle of people felt less oppressive. And more importantly, there wouldn’t be any unwelcome visitors stumbling upon us. A somewhat insane child, and a possibly equally insane muscle-bound woman who hunted myths were not the kind of people I was quite ready to introduce after my ordeal.
“All right, the Gimzers,” she began. A deep breath in. A long, controlled exhale, and Shazina launched into the story. “The Gimzers have barely been more than a legend since my great grandparents were born. They were few in number, even at the height of their power. Those like you who could externally manipulate, were the creature’s first choice of food. Learners, as you call them, were not prevalent in those days as education was hard to come by on the subject thanks to our gods. But still, it was a bad fate for any who fell prey to them. Gimzers drain a person of their humanity. Memories, feelings, talents, and ability to access that part of the mind which allows us to manipulate. That last part, incidentally, is why they are so terrible. Any time they drained someone who could use the Skill, they gained that person’s talent for a brief bit. Not quite the full extension of their Skill, but no small dose either.”
I coughed politely. “What about those drained? Did they disappear, never to be seen again?” I joked.
She looked as near to angry as those slate eyes and deadpan face could express. “No. They become a walking corpse. Physically, they are fine, and will be as long as you keep feeding them. But there is nothing left of the person they once were.” She exhaled slowly, again. “Those in that state are the most well-known and documented fact of an encounter with Gimzers. Entire communities were crippled by a visit from just one. Imagine losing a quarter of your workforce, while still having to feed and shelter them like miserable pets.”
It was a sobering thought. “Why didn’t they just put them out of their misery? Do the,” I paused awkwardly, “…humane thing.”
With her hands templed in front of her, Cassiopia raised her eyebrow Shazina’s way. “That does seem to be the most logical choice in this situation. What does one do when a drained is found?”
Shazina nodded once. Whether in agreement or not, it was a struggle to tell. “Some did. But could you put your mother down, if she still smiled when she ate her favorite food? Or laughed like a new born child at the sight of a sunrise? Not many have it in them for such callousness. Plus, there were probably rumors of a cure, there always is when something terrible happens to people. Hope is one of humanity's greatest talents.”
I thought of my mother, and as much as I’d ever had against her, I knew unequivocally that I wouldn’t be capable of it. “No, I don’t think I could. I see the issue.”
Shazina picked at the ground before looking back up. “Exactly. But really, that’s the smaller of the problems. A Gimzer is practically invulnerable. Do you know what that does to a society, being consciously aware that it’s lower on the food chain? Especially when you were originally the apex? It’s terrible. Society starts to break down when safety is no longer ‘guaranteed’ and you could be drained by some ancient horror.”
Shaking my head, I shuddered at the thought of living in fear every night. “How often does it attack?”
“We don’t know. But every so often a village or home will be found, corpses if it’s been long enough, mindless zombies if not. Entire villages, Nil.” She looked down at her hands, studying them for a long moment. “My older brother was taken. There’d been talk about an expedition across the causeway, but it wasn’t gaining traction. We need help, and your people are the only ones with the talent in their blood. So, will you take me to someone useful now?” A gentle breeze tickled the leaves, the soft rustle adding sound to the gap of silence that hung between her question.
Cassiopia thumped the ground with her meaty fist. “This sounds like a worthy use of my time. Count me in.”
I spent a long moment thinking the question over. “Let’s see if we can find anyone, and if not, I promise I’ll at least return with you. This part of the world is getting to be a bit unwelcoming for me
.” I stood up, reaching my hand out to help her up. Surprisingly, she took it. “First, let’s see if my friend is dead or not. From there, we’ll get you some folk that may be able to help us out.”
The smell of a burned-out tree still tainted the air as we climbed back up into Erset, and went looking for someone more responsible than Cassiopia or I. This little girl was about to shatter everything we knew about Balteris.
THE END OF BOOK ONE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There’s a number of you out there that have helped push making this book a reality. Whether anyone else will appreciate you for that or not, only time will tell. But for my part, I’m incredibly grateful for the editing and feedback you guys provided. Daniel Winter, Stephen Mobley, Jake Cobb, Derek Porterfield, Chris Matos, Brittany Brickzin, and Nicki Csenge, y’all are amazing. Each of your thoughtful words and willingness to read some incredibly rough drafts means a lot to me.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Andrew Monroe is an avid book monger, tabletop gaming aficionado, fitness enthusiast, obsessive coffee drinker, and can most usually be found thinking about food in its various forms but mostly about what his next dessert will be. There’s not much to be said about his writing beyond the fact that he won the third grade Most Persuasive Essay contest in which he wished to convince his teacher to give the class an additional fifteen minutes of recess. When not writing or pursuing one of the above hobbies, he spends most of his time in Amarillo, TX attempting to convince friends and family he’s become a mostly well-adjusted adult who can (mostly) fend for himself.
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