by Cora May
Comfort didn’t matter, though. His illness was not a physical illness, and he wasn’t even sure it would ever end. He thought perhaps it might be his purgatory. His eternity. He thought he might suffer indefinitely and forever, and he had given up trying to stop or reverse the virus. He was only lying in bed, waiting to finish dying.
If only death weren’t so vague.
He cracked open his eyes and looked over at the broken scythe. Who would take him away, and where would he go? What part of death was even working right, now that the scythe had been broken anyway?
He turned away in disgust and closed his eyes again. He didn’t know what was going to happen with the world anymore. He wasn’t sure what would happen now that his part in the world had become so minimal as he did less and less. He could only hope the dying humans were going to the right places in their afterlives. He was terrified, though, that they weren’t going anywhere at all. He felt guilt creep into his heart as he imagined a bunch of nameless Anam, floating around in a place that was neither the Realm of Light nor of the Dark; a place that was outside of the Province of Death altogether. He imagined a place that he had never even thought to exist before—a cold, empty, white space that had no forgiveness for the Anam that were about to become trapped.
Maybe there was a way to save them. If portals had been opened from one Realm to the next, it was entirely possible that he could open a portal to this white space of his imagination, too. Perhaps then he could sort through the Anam cursed to purgatory and place them in the proper Realms.
Ah, but to do that, he reminded himself with a grim sigh, he would need to be more conscious than he was. He would need to have the strength to lift his scythe, let alone to open a portal and find this white space. And that, he felt, was out of the Realm of possibility.
More sweat dripped down his brow. Bas needed help. He was more aware of that then he was aware of his own surroundings. He filled his lungs with a big gust of air and let it out slowly. He had to figure out how to get someone’s attention. He had to figure out whose attention he even needed. He needed someone to help him.
He needed someone to help him.
He needed to rest.
He needed to die.
What good was that when you were already dead?
His heavy lids seemed to close even tighter. His already foggy mind drifted further into the fog. He let himself drift into a state of unconsciousness for a time.
Time had passed, though whether it was a minute or a century, Bas did not know. He had never been aware of the passing of time, and it had only become more meaningless the sicker he got. He was awake now, though, so he knew it was time to figure something out. He only had a small window of time before he succumbed to unconsciousness once again.
He filled his lungs with a heavy breath and used the momentum of his body to swing himself into a sitting position in his bed. He kept his eyes closed the whole time because he knew he was going to be dizzy. Keeping his eyes closed would mean a quicker recovery time—at least for the vertigo. He sat upright in his bed for several seconds, forcing himself to breathe steadily through his nose. Once he felt the vertigo fade, he slowly opened his eyes.
His Realm had been just as he remembered from the last time he opened his eyes—how long ago must that have been? He looked around slowly at the emptiness and the shelves. There were no walls, it would seem, but then when you had a whole Realm to yourself, there was no need for walls, was there? He was the only being to ever set foot into this Realm, where he lived alone. He liked it that way, and thus had never requested the help of another being, dead or alive.
That was going to have to change, though, because he could not leave anymore.
He looked over at the shelf where he kept his stash of earth stones. Each one empowered someone who had been Blessed, but each one also told him exactly where to find the Blessed people. He carefully rose from bed and walked over to the shelf, each step growing more and more painful as he got closer. Once he stood at the shelf, he grabbed its edge to help him stay upright. He then stood there for quite some time as he deliberated which stone he wanted to use.
Maybe he needed a Healer.
Something in his gut told him that no amount of Gold was going to solve his problem now.
He considered a Soother.
But a Soother could only make him feel better about his predicament. He needed someone who could do something more about it.
He needed a great amount of power, and he was afraid that he would have to enlist more than one person. He had no time to make a decision, though, he knew that much. He had no time to decide if anyone was capable or who would be the best decision. He had to reach out to someone and do it quickly. His hand skimmed across the Obsidian stone. It was warm, a feeling that was rare for that particular stone. It meant that someone had just used it.
A small, weak smile spread across his face, despite the ache it caused him in his cheeks. That was the person he needed to track down. That was the person who had the power that he needed. All he had to do was convince them to help him and leave the details and the planning to them. It would be simple enough, really.
The only thing he had to figure out was how to make contact with someone who had such an unpredictable Blessing. He had a feeling it would be a challenge just to locate this particular Blessed.
PART THREE:
THE PROVINCE
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: CHANTA
C hanta sat up in her bed. She hadn’t been able to sleep that night, but it hardly seemed to matter. Having the stone in her blood really did seem to make a difference. It was ten times better than the strongest caffeine she had consumed before. It seemed to rejuvenate her most tired bones and muscles.
She thought back on her life, before anything had happened to her. She could never remember a time when she didn’t feel any pain or tiredness. Maybe when she was a small child, but even then, children were bruised and skinned all the time. She didn’t even feel the soreness of someone who hadn’t slept for days.
She had waited for Brin to fall asleep that night, and then a few hours later, she said goodbye to Addy. She thought it strange that the girl had to be up so early, but she explained that she had some special training to do with Professor Nessi before the day began. Chanta had even toyed with the idea of asking to come along and train with her, or to perhaps just run around the field as she used to in gym class before. Something about Addy’s demeanor, though, told her not to bring it up.
Once she was gone, Chanta remained awake. She couldn’t help brushing her fingers along her wrist, searching for the piece of stone that lay beneath the skin. She knew it was there, or she wouldn’t have felt so good, yet she had to convince herself constantly.
She felt at peace, and that was something she hadn’t felt in a long enough time that it didn’t seem true. She felt free.
In fact, she felt like she should test this newfound power.
Glancing at the clock on her dresser, she knew it was still too early to be out and about in the castle. It was just after six in the morning. That didn’t matter, though. She had been out already, well past curfew and hadn’t been caught. Even if she was running more of a risk of being caught now, she had to go. As relaxed and at peace as she might have been, there was another feeling bubbling beneath the surface.
The feeling wasn’t entirely bad. It was a feeling of exploring. She knew a little more about herself now, another piece of the puzzle that hadn’t been in place before. The stone was the piece that offered her the comfort, but that didn’t mean she could see the whole picture. Now that another piece had snapped into place, she wanted to see more of it.
She slipped her feet back into her slippers and quietly left the room. It wasn’t so early in the morning that being caught was such a huge risk. She could just say she had to use the bathroom.
As if that thought had given her inspiration, she actually did decide to make her way to the bathroom. It was a place that wasn’t too far away, a place she
knew she wouldn’t get lost in going to or from, and a place that offered a bit of privacy. It was also a place that, should someone be watching her or following her, they might decide to leave her be. Especially if she argued woman’s troubles or stomach issues.
She walked down the hall with a stride that felt too confident. She wasn’t used to feeling the way she did. She supposed the confidence would back up her bathroom story, though, so she let herself enjoy it.
She tried her best not to look around the halls. It would have given her away if she was being watched. Instead, she tuned into her listening, relying on her ears to tell her if anyone was near. The soft pitter-patter of her slippers on the stone floors was the only sound she heard. If someone was following her, they did a good job of staying quieter than she was.
When she got to the bathroom, she gently closed the door behind her. She made sure she heard it click before turning away. She glanced under all the stalls. There were no feet. She peeked into all the showers. None of them were running, and none of them were occupied, either. She crept around every corner, and just when she decided she was alone, she turned with a start, her eyes locking with that of another girl who gasped at the same time.
Her heart skipped a beat before she realized it was just the mirror. She squinted and looked closer, leaning over the sinks to get a better look at herself.
Her long blonde hair looked shiny, despite the lack of self-care she’d given it over the past—well—years, really. Her skin looked flush and bright, too. Her freckles no longer stood out in a way that made her look dotted with sickness, but instead they blended into her skin nicely, adding a bit of an accent of beauty. Although she was still too skinny, she could also see the proof of recent nourishment in her flesh. She was hardly recognizable, even to herself.
The least recognizable part, though, she realized, was her eyes. She had to lean in closer and closer to the mirror until her nose was practically pressed up against the cold surface of her reflection’s nose. They were still bright blue in color, probably ten times brighter than they had been before. That was because she felt so uplifted, she was sure. More than that, though, she could see black flecks in her eyes. They looked like they had been shredded directly from the Obsidian stone and placed carefully into her iris’s. It was a sight that both terrified her and delighted her. It was beautiful, in a dark way.
Click.
She started again, her eyes locking on the door. It was unmoved, though. She looked around the room, but the only thing that moved was a shower curtain that gently waved back and forth from the draft that came from the vents above it.
She was still alone, then. The small sound she had heard must have been her imagination.
Still, she turned away from the mirror. She hadn’t come to ogle herself, and her time was very limited. She had come to experience her power. She walked herself into one of the shower stalls, for a little bit of added privacy.
She closed her eyes and tried to think of how to start.
She concentrated on her body. She stood with her arms raised a little bit to the side, careful not to touch the shower walls, and all of her fingers spread out. Even her toes began to separate in her slippers, so that no one part of her body was touching another, allowing her to focus on each piece individually. Using her mind, she searched for something that might resemble a point of power. She wasn’t sure what that was supposed to feel like, though.
Until, that was, she felt a pulling inside and outside of her body. It was like a rush of energy that was pulling into her heart. She realized that she had felt it before, to a point, but now with the stone, it was so much different. It was so much bigger, and the pull was a thousand times stronger. This was her power, then, she realized. She concentrated on it, feeling it throughout her body, even though it was only pulling into her heart. She concentrated until she felt it in her fingertips.
She tried to describe it, but she couldn’t. Not even to herself. She felt a gust of wind sweeping around her and knew that if she opened her eyes, it would disappear. She would lose it in a minute, and she was just beginning to discover it.
She felt the stone inside of her jump with excitement. It was at her beck and call, waiting for her. It needed direction.
What could she do, though?
She tried to feel it even deeper. As each new gust of power came through her chest, it got stronger and stronger. She started to feel sparks in the gusts. They were small points of electricity, like when her brother used to rub his socks on the carpet and then touch her face with the static electricity. Although her eyes were closed, she could imagine seeing it all. She could see the gusts of windy power cycle through her body, along with purple and blue points of random electricity spread throughout the gusts. She felt the power.
It was her power to command, she knew that.
And it was building so quickly, she could feel panic rising in her suddenly. She needed a place to put the power before it became too much.
But the question came again—where could she put it? What was she supposed to do with it?
She had been terrified to open her eyes up until that point, feeling like she would lose the feeling of her power if she did. As the power continued to bubble up, she realized she had no choice. She let herself see the scene before her, contained by the four walls of the small shower.
She could see the dark light of the Obsidian stone all around her. She could see the points of shock—both light and dark—and she could see their faces. They had faces. The little points of light that she had conjured up were actually some type of being. They were all looking at her, telling her something… Asking her? She could see their mouths moving. They wanted her to do something.
No, she realized suddenly. They didn’t want her to do something, but rather, they were hers to command. And they wanted it, too. They wanted her to tell them to do something, they wanted an order to obey.
She wanted to hear them, but they could not speak loud enough for her. They could not be heard over the gusts of wind that echoed in her ears.
She could see them pointing. They understood that she couldn’t hear them, that must be what that meant. She watched them try to communicate in other means. They began to gesture, to make a big circle with arms that weren’t connected to anything. Arms that faded in and out, like they didn’t have the power to show them to her. They were struggling against something so that she could see them.
Still, she had no idea what they were telling her.
Yet, she knew that they were hers to command. If they were hers to command, then couldn’t she tell them to just do what they were trying to do?
She locked eyes with one of the faces. His head moved up and down like he was telling her that she was on the right track. His mouth moved again, with purpose this time, but she was still unable to make out what he said. He lifted one of his blurry hands, like a child asking to be called upon in school.
Chanta nodded at him, and his light source moved back a foot, shining brighter than before. He was selected.
She felt him hesitate in the gust, itching to go out and respond to her request but needing… Something… More direction? More imagining? A clearer command?
But no, she realized that he knew exactly what she wanted. He only needed more points of shock to help him with the vague command. She picked a few more—all purple points—and each one of them answered her and pulled away from the gust.
There were four lights now outside of her gust. She could feel them floating around, working together to complete her request. She wasn’t quite sure how they were able to do it, but she felt them using her power, sucking in her gusts, to create a bigger, yellow light against the shower wall. She could feel her own power wane each time they took some of it and then push back into her each time they gave it back. It took her a minute to learn to keep herself stable as they did so.
And suddenly she understood her Blessing a little bit more.
But she was afraid in that moment. She was afraid
of the big light they were creating. She could hear them whisper now, catching little snippets of what they were saying as they worked.
… talk to us…
… bring her to her father…
They wanted to communicate to her, and she was beginning to understand what they were now, too. These were the—what had they called them in this place?—the Anam. They were the spirits of those who had passed, the beings that Blessed the people in this school. And they wanted to speak to her. That was the goal, wasn’t it?
She realized what they were doing now. They were making a portal. That was the yellow light that was glowing brighter and bigger. It kept growing, becoming fiercer as it did so. It should have been too bright for her to look at, but she could feel her own eyes being protected. She was able to look straight into it without consequence because the Anam were protecting her.
It was essentially no more than a big, yellow light suspended in the shower. The edges of circular shape were like tongues of flame, whipping out in every direction, and it was bright enough that she still had to squint to really be able to look at it, despite the protection. As her eyes began to adjust, though, she saw something happening behind it. Or, perhaps, inside of it was a better way to put it. There was movement in there. Shapes like shadows glided back and forth, going nowhere it seemed, but also having very determined missions at the same time. They must have been the Anam, Chanta realized. This was the portal to their world, and she must have been looking through and getting a glimpse at what they were doing.
Suddenly, she realized that there were four shadows that stood much closer to the portal. They stood there, not moving about and hustling like the ones behind them, but not daring to cross over the threshold of the portal, either … They were watching her, she realized. Even though she couldn’t see their faces or their eyes, she could feel their gaze.