Six Years Ago
***
I took a breath and stepped forward. The last time I’d done this had been almost a month ago, and I’d almost been roasted alive then. But I had to do it today. I had to try.
One step between civilization and the Garden.
The instant I crossed the threshold, I began to run. A venomous snake popped out from behind a tree and snapped at me, but I ducked, sixty-seven points in Combat and a decently high Dexterity stat for a seventeen-year-old keeping me safe.
Vines began to move and tumble, rolling towards me like snakes. The ground grumbled as tree roots did the same.
I leaped as a tree root burst forth from the ground, landing on the next one, before sliding to the right to dodge a hissing rock.
Burning Monkeys. They tended to throw hunks of hissing metal, which they peeled from their own bodies. The hissing metal wasn’t all that dangerous on its own, but it reacted violently if it ever landed in water.
Unlike just outside the barrier, the weather in here was different. It was constantly raining as vegetation exploded from every possible surface, and inanimate chemicals turned into living creatures, so it wasn’t even worth it to attempt to visit on rainy days.
I wore Composure like a second skin, and weaved deftly between the vines, the razor sharp leaves that descended toward me, more hissing rocks, and the other creatures that dotted this jungle of death.
A glimmerfly drifted near me, and I swatted it away. It was a bug, so it didn’t move far, but it exploded in a burst of chemical liquid covering a screaming monkey as it did. The monkey exploded, taking out another snake and a few vines that had been aiming to strangle me, but I was already long gone.
I reached the wall and leaped, grasping onto a root growing out of it. As expected, the root immediately reacted and began growing, conveniently carrying me up to the top of the grass-strewn parapet as wood shifted and stirred.
It smelled of violets and berries, but it was always dark in here. The trees had grown as tall as mountains, and their canopy blotted out any hint of sunlight.
The wall still held the impression of a normal castle, if a normal castle were covered in vibrant green grass and a layer of butterflies. I knew those weren’t dangerous but there were frogs that sometimes snapped them up with long tongues. Touching one of those would’ve killed me before I got my Chemical Resilience high enough to resist them.
Uncle Clestar had refused to let me attempt this until that particular skill had reached at least level sixty. It was always a risk.
I leaped off the castle wall, falling into the inner domain with no fear. I landed inside a massive purple flower that unfurled even as I fell. It released a deluge of yellow pollen that would’ve rendered anyone unprepared unconscious, but had no effect on me.
Instead, I fell gently onto the huge flower, its stem crumpling as it began to fall under my body weight.
The huge petals began to close, hoping to trap me within, but I held out a hand, and wind magic sliced at the petals. They reacted immediately, recoiling and leaving me a perfect opening to leave the petal cocoon.
I stepped out onto actual stone ground, just as the flower’s stem fully collapsed. I paused just long enough to let loose another burst of wind magic and back a hissing rock. It landed in one of the many pools dotting the inner wall and exploded harmlessly.
The monkey seemed enraged, but I left it behind.
Two more rocks landed harmlessly on the ground where I’d stood, but I took off running before they could hit me.
The center wasn’t far away. The keep loomed overhead, and I smiled as I saw the wooden door. Just a regular wood door.
It was a good day, it seemed.
I approached it and was surprised that it opened without my interaction. Small vines on the hinges slowly forced the wooden door to slide open. The doorknob snapped at me, but I fortunately didn’t have to touch it.
I stepped inside and breathed a sigh of relief as the world returned to some semblance of normal.
“Mother?” I called as I took off my coat and placed it on the coat hanger. “Thank you for the door.”
There were at least fourteen entrances to the Palace Prison of Emmaline the Hysteric. Any given one might be a monster in disguise, or a poisonous trap, but sometimes the woman seemed to be able to control just a little of the decaying talent.
They didn’t scoff though, or say it with resentment. Emmaline the Hysteric was a fallen icon, a near deity, brought low but still left to linger. The love of her people — and of course, the votes generated by supporting her in her time of need — had led to the creation of this place. Her talent had turned it into a biological nightmare.
“Hello, Freyna,” came mother’s withered voice as I stepped from the entry hall into the central chamber.
Mother never left this room anymore. Lavish gold plating adorned every wall, and pictures of me, Uncle Clestar, my cousins, my father, and Mother’s other wife and husband, Mesenya and Verhim, lined the towering walls with memories.
A mausoleum to a crippled god. A symbol of the raw will and defiance of the Eschal people. After all, no one else who’d ever gotten the Hysterics had ever managed to control it for so long. Even in her sickness, the Chemist was beloved by the people she’d raised up, and in their benevolence, they had not killed her when she began to lose control.
So… here she lingered. Attended by servants capable of braving the jungle outside, and protected by the neon red light of the Cedovan Artifact, which disabled all talents.
Somehow, Mother’s Talent defeated even that as her talent seemed to out-range the Artifact.
“It has been a while this time. Was there a problem?” she asked.
I flushed.
“I was careless on my way out last time. Caught near an explosion from one of the monkeys,” I said.
She grimaced. “Sorry about those. My imagination gets away from me.”
I shook my head. “It’s… no fault of yours.”
She nodded and turned to grab a small book, one of hundreds stacked up beside her, wrapping around her bed like a small nest. Reading was one of the few pleasures afforded to her now.
“Be that as it may, I’m still sorry I ever thought of them. I… I haven’t seen Sharmenda in quite some time. Is she…?”
“Dead,” I replied. “Not from the garden though. She died at the border between Tacuria and Eschal. There have been a few rising tensions there lately.”
Mother breathed a sigh of relief.
Lies about the outside world, lies about the political situation of her country, and lies about the loyal servants she’d killed all came easily now.
There had been a group of servants killed during a border skirmish near Tacuria a short while back, but Sharmenda had died right here in Mother’s garden. Getting to her was becoming more and more difficult. Until recently, jumping over the garden and straight into the courtyard had been the safest route in. There was a noxious green cloud out there now that laughed at the Chemical Resiliance skill, and the young chemists attempting to continue Emmaline’s work were baffled by it.
Mother herself was no help. The only thing I’d been able to determine so far was that the talent was reacting to her dreams, and Mother was irritatingly creative. The garden was always coming up with some new threat.
Visiting was becoming harder by the day.
But I needed to come here today. I needed… something. Closure, maybe? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I needed to see my mother one last time before I got my talent.
Once I’d wanted to impress her. Later, I’d wanted to eclipse her, make her know that she wasn’t gods gift to mankind.
She’d… been humbled since then and I’d grown. Now… I just… wanted her to be there, because it was becoming increasingly obvious that the prison, the artifact, and all the control of a masterful talent, weren’t enough. The Chemist’s talent was broken and so was she.
“We should’ve killed her the moment she expressed the Hysterics!”
“Nothing good will come of housing one of them!”
“She’s going to kill people.”
“She’s given us so much! She personally saved my son with her medicines!”
“She’s a danger to us all!”
“We would barely be a nation without her!”
“Yes, but how long until she dreams up a poison that spreads via the air?”
The arguments went on and on, but I could feel the way they were leading. They’d excuse it. For the good of us all, they’d say. Everyone with the Hysterics must die lest they become a threat to their own friends and family.
It was true, too.
I’d seen a few other cases of Hysterics in my efforts to study Atrophology. They were incredibly rare. One case in a hundred thousand. But there were disturbing trends.
Hysterics seemed to be more prone to afflict those with higher-ranked talents. Of the three I’d found over the past five years, all of them had been at least a rare talent or higher. Not one uncommon or common.
One and all, their village had killed them before I’d ever managed to study anything but a corpse, but each of their friends and family confirmed the ranks of their talents prior to their deaths.
That wasn’t a large enough pool to confirm a trend, but it was enough of a coincidence that it worried me.
Mother… had possibly just been unlucky? Each of their families reported that the victims had been under high levels of stress before the Hysterics began, but it couldn’t just be that simple. If every rare talent under stress got the Hysterics, then our entire country would’ve been burned to the ground centuries ago.
There had to be some other catalyst, but I hadn’t found what it was yet.
“I… want you to stop coming to visit me, Freyna,” Mother said.
I tried to smile. “I had to come visit you today, Mother. Of all days.”
She did smile back. “You’re going to do great things. Better than I ever did.”
“Mother, you’re only fifty! We’ve got plenty of time left to find a solution for this,” I said. The words rang hollow, repeating like a crier’s missives.
“I am going to die, Snowflake,” she said. “I… I should’ve done so years ago. I watched an execution of a Counselor who contracted the sickness once, you know? When I was a girl. He’d gone quietly. With dignity. Before his talent could kill anyone. I know I have not gone so gracefully. I once thought the greatest threat was my own inventions in malicioius hands, but now I fear my dreams even more.”
“Your talent has remained confined! It’s safely within a few meters of the palace!” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow. “Barun told me it stretched nearly eighty meters. It’s growing, and what little control I have over it slipped away long ago. If not for this little treasure I’d be dead two years gone, and the world better for it! Why would Sharmenda be anywhere near the Tacurian Border!?”
I hesitated, for the briefest moment, but it was enough. “She has family there! A younger brother!”
My words fell on deaf ears.
“And so, I kill another faithful citizen. I… I’ve become a plague, poisoning everything around me,” she said. “I don’t want to continue living like this anymore, Freyna. Perhaps, if the gods are kind, in my next life I’ll just be a cook or something simple.”
“Can… we not talk of lighter things?” I asked. “I… I’ll finally get my talent tomorrow.”
She smiled and almost managed to remove the bitterness. “You’ve grown so much since the angry girl you were three years ago. As I said, no matter what your talent is, you’ll be better than me. I have my brother to thank for that.”
I very pointedly did not agree, but she wasn’t wrong.
We made tea, and talked of lighter things. Boys that had caught my eye, and new talents my cousins had gained. We talked of politics, and the rising tensions at the border. The mercenary companies and their strike.
We talked for hours, and for once, I left with a lighter heart than when I entered. I did not stay till the new day.
I had obligations now.
I was considering running for a councilor seat myself, and with Uncle Clestar’s support, as well as the lingering affection for the Chemist, I stood a decent chance of winning a seat. My talent was a topic of popular debate among the family, and I had made friends in the years since Mother’s shadow had receded.
I was wide awake and filled with excitement and not a little dread when the new talent tab appeared in my status screen.
It almost felt anti-climactic. After all that, it just appeared in my screen. With trembling hands, I opened the screen. Would it be Masterful, like mother’s? Would it be common and prove finally that skills had no impact on the rank of a talent.
There was a fanfare of trumpets that seemed out of place with my mood.
Congratulations!
For reaching your eighteenth nameday, you have been awarded your talent.
- Wither Sage -
- Who cares for the broken -
Effect 1: On touch, gain permanent control of withered talents. Level of control is dependent upon the rank of the talent in relation to Wither Sage.
Effect 2: Upon first gaining control of a withered talent, gain twenty-five percent of the accumulated total skill points gained with that talent as free points.
Rank: Legendary
I began to tremble for an entirely different reason, as joy and fear filled my veins.
Mother was right.