Awakening

by Hayden Pearton

  *

  Sleep left Barsch with little effort, so happy was he to be free of his dreams. With youthful vigour, he leapt to his feet and began to rouse the others. Kingston had evidently not slept, as his eyes were dark and his voice was hoarse. Maloch had recharged his power cells, and was his usual self. Alza, on the other hand, awoke with an expression that said that she too had not slept well. The arose and readied themselves in awkward silence. After the remnants of the fire were disposed of, they left the spire, with only Kingston glancing back at the history-stained monument.

  The path Kingston had found was shortly found and entered, with a haste born from wanting to get as far away from the spire as humanly possible. The path turned out to be nothing more than an age-old trail that had been carved through the forest by the people of the nearby city decades before, most likely for those who came to study the strange spire. Although, in the years since the city's demise, the path had fallen into disrepair. Stone slabs had been up-heaved by unseen roots, and the foliage had slowly embarked on a reclamation attempt, which was proving most successful. Despite the encroaching plants, the path was still traversable, and preferable to wading through countless bogs and hazarding the wastes. The only real threat came from the Nightblighter's that invested the woods, but they were inactive while the sun still shone, so even they presented no threat as long as the party reached the city before nightfall.

  As they approached the outskirts of the city, Kingston noted another sharp temperature change, as the heat was all but eradicated by a sudden cold spell. It was as if all of the warmth in the air was being pulled away by something in the distance, towards the city. Kingston thought back and remembered what lay ahead: the ominous crystals. If his memory was correct, and it usually was, they were about to run straight into one of the larger crystal groves. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but continue on the path. If they tried to go around, through the forests, they might get lost and fall prey to the Nightblighters. If they turned back, they would only be wasting time they did not have. In other words, they had no choice but forward.

  A few steps behind him, Barsch was walking with Maloch, thinking of nothing in particular. The lumbering giant was not forthcoming with its thoughts, creating a lethargic atmosphere that boded no conversation. Alza, bringing up the rear, was silent as well, but for different reasons. She was thinking about emotions.

  She knew that emotions did exist, and that they were present in normal, healthy human beings, but she simply could not summon them during conversation. When attacked, she felt no fear nor anger, and when saved, she felt no gratitude nor relief. It was as if the world was simply a background, and other people were nothing but objects that occasionally moved and spoke about frivolous things.

  Alza knew that if she had ever had emotions, they would be found when she regained her past, but for some reason that brought about feelings of hesitation. What if she remembered everything and she still remained emotionless, or what if she did indeed regain her emotions? Would they change who she was? Although the concept of fear was foreign to Alza, she still felt what could be best be described as 'apprehension' about the recovery of her true self.

  Without noticing, the party of deep thinkers reached the end of the path. It was not the manufactured end, but had instead been created when the forest crystal had sprung up, destroying what was left of the pilgrimage path. The nearest crystal lay no more than six feet away, and pulsed with light that seemed to come from within. The shimmering crystal was a deep shade of violet, and measured between ten and fifteen feet high and five feet in width.

  The cold was intensified by their presence, and frost covered the broken ground. With their semi-reflective surfaces, the crystalline structures created a maze that could entrap even the most direction-competent traveller. With something akin to apprehension, Kingston approached one of the crystals, noting that his figure was distorted a hundred times over as his did so. With one frail hand, he placed his palm on the clear surface. Immediately, he drew it back, as frost had already begun to form on his fingertips, turning them blue.

  “Kingston, what exactly are these things?” Barsch had wanted to ask ever since they had first seen them in the distance, but the hermit had told him to be patient.

  Kingston took a deep breath, while trying to work some warmth back into his frozen digits. Turning his back on the mysterious crystals, he explained, “These things... these crystals, have many names. They first appeared in the Creed Event, and were not seen again until the South Wars. At first, we had no idea what they were, but after many experiments and theories, we arrived at the answer.”

  “We found that when pollution levels pass a certain point, a critical mass some said, a chemical reaction takes place. The pollutants gather together and solidify, forming a crystal we have taken to calling ç'aether. This crystal is thus a container for an incredible amount of volatile miasma, which seems to be amplified the longer it is kept in crystal form. Even during the Creed Event, when some of the greatest scientific minds alive were studying it, few understood it's true nature.”

  “There is still much we don't know about it, such as why it draws in heat and expels cold, and why they always form in such numbers. They are incredibly hard to destroy, which is actually something of a blessing, because during the South Wars, forests of them sprung up everywhere and would have most likely caused great damage if all it took was a malfunctioning missile to crack them open.”

  After saying so much, Kingston had to stop and catch his breath, before continuing his explanation. “They should be safe in their current form, but I still want you to be careful. Although it usually takes a lot to destroy them, there have been isolated cases of entire fields of them rupturing from a single bullet. So tread lightly, and don't touch anything.”

  Alza was the first to respond, which seemed to surprise both her and Kingston.

  “Is there any chance they can cause hallucinogenic visions?”

  Kingston thought about saying that he had never heard anything of the sort, but he remembered the rumours from his youth. When he was a soldier, he had sometimes heard tales of men driven mad by strange crystals, who they claimed had shown them horrible, unbearable things. So, he instead said, “As I said, we don't fully understand them, so I guess anything is possible.”

  To Barsch and Maloch, he said, “Now, let's get a move on. No matter what happens, do not get separated.”