Otherworldly - A Shadowed Awakening

CH 23 - Growth



Peak of Autumn, Week 5, Day 2

I woke up to light trickling in through the pastel orange curtains, the glint of the embroidery sparkling in the dim room as a draft shook the fabric. There was a tightness under my skin, a slow-burning wick lit within me, but I felt lighter than the previous night. I felt more put together –more stable. Just, I felt like more.

And because it felt as if my soul was overflowing, I was unsurprised when I focused my eyes, and there was a notification.

[Congratulations! Mental Fortitude has reached Level 6!]

For once, I felt peace with that –with the fact that [Mental Fortitude] may feast on my suffering– since it also feeds on my recovery. No. My intentional recovery. Perhaps that’s the difference, then. The Skill had felt like a leech, suckling on my suffering to grow itself while doing nothing in return. Or, rather, doing the bare minimum in return –forcing its activation only when I was on the brink of madness just to drag me back to that teetering edge. Now, though, the dynamic had changed. No longer was I unwilling to recover, unwilling to grow, unwilling to take further steps from the cliff that seemed ever looming. Now the Skill was a crutch, a comfort, something I could rely on.

Shaking off the last remnant of sleep, I dismissed the notification and sat up. Sliding out of bed, a memory of elsewhere slid into my head. It was a gentle thing, a reminder of what I used to be. I decided I could go back to that, at least for now. Setting Haze and Noir next to my feet, I positioned myself in front of the fireplace.

[Shadow Animation]

“Stretch. Stretch.” I felt the mana coming from my voice split into two clouds and sink into each of the knit animals.

As the panda and bunny came alive, I began to reach for the sky. Pushing my shoulders up, bracing my stomach, extending my hands out as if I could touch the ceiling, I felt the light sting of a productive stretch. As I held the pose, my gaze flicked down to Haze. The panda was reflecting the dim light and shining as he sat plopped down and reaching for his toes –though he wasn’t that defined, so really, he was simply bent forward breathing for the stubby ends of his legs. Meanwhile, Noir was stood up twisting his upper body back and forth. They were adorable. I began shifting through several poses, beginning with my arms and shoulders, then migrated to my back, and finally, I ended bent forward with my hands pressed flat against the floor, stretching the back of my legs.

That was about when I heard the two knit animals next to me fall immobile against the floor.

I stood, shaking out my body, letting the stiffness of the day before fall away. It felt nice to run through the same stretches as in elsewhere. It was grounding. A reminder that even though I was different –broken, a voice inside me whispered– I could still grow to be the woman I had been.

I looked at Noir and Haze, taking in their soft bodies, and picked them up and placed them on the bed gently. I needed to get ready. It was early, and I wanted to get the rest of the day over with. The Affirmation was going before the Gods. Or at least one of them. It was already eating at me that I would be calling out to one of them.

I was reminded once again that if I was willing to leave, to be alone in the body of a child, I wouldn’t have to go through this. But it was too soon. I still needed time, time to grow and learn and find out the repercussions of disappearing. I wasn’t strong enough to survive. Not if something truly powerful came after me. And though I may hate this world, hate what it stands for, what it means that I am here, I will not be walking out of a pan and into the fire.

It was Sir Limrick and the two squires again. Which was familiar –so it was fine. Even if Klein still had a smug look on his face. Arlen had been entirely quiet the day before, but he hadn’t bumbled anything –which I’d gathered is actually odd for him. The few times I’d spotted him talking to the other knights of the Dusk, he had a sheepish expression on, and the other knights looked exasperated.

The anxiety growing in my stomach was quelled lightly by Sir Limrick’s presence. While the squires were new, Sir Limrick and I had at least spoken several times the day before. And he had never been rude or hateful –just weirdly cryptic about Adeline.

So, as they watched me eat breakfast, I thought about what we would be doing today.

The Affirmation.

Proof I was chosen by the Divine. That I was noble.

From what I’d gathered, it was as simple as calling out to the Gods in front of a priest, and if they responded in any way, then I was good. Things are never that simple, of course. But that was the gist of it. The Etiquette of the Noblesse had given a long list of directions on how to interact with the priest of Abelia but had been remarkably useless on everything else. There was no guidance on how to ‘commune with the Gods’ or what their acknowledgment would actually look like.

I ate slowly, not quite savoring the food but processing it. That same green fruit from the road was cut up –a ‘crocodile peach,’ Sir Limrick called it. Its skin was layered and a deep forest green, whereas the inside was fleshy and a distinct shade of lime green that seemed just out of the realm of possibility. It tasted delicious, though, so I ate it all. The rest was normal –eggs, toast, something that looked and tasted like yogurt but was a deep crimson, and milk, though it had a slight purple tint.

When I was finished, I looked to Sir Limrick and spoke quietly –the silence was too pervasive to do anything else, “What time are we leaving for the Affirmation?”

He gave me that tight-lipped smile of his, “Once you’re finished and ready, we will leave, my Lady.”

I nodded. I was already dressed in traveling clothes –pressed violet shorts and a frilly pink and blue shirt with several golden finishings. Rather than braid my hair, I had pulled half of it into two buns and let the rest of my curls fall down.

“I’m ready, then.” I pushed my plate out from in front of me and stood, picking up the bag that I had brought down with me –that Noir and Haze’s heads were sticking out of. It was the bag Sir Limrick had given me with my clothes, now emptied and filled with balls of yarn of different shades and the two knit animals.

“Understood,” Sir Limrick turned to Klein and Arlen, “I’ll go grab the rest —let them know it’s time to go. You two… stay.”

The two boys nodded, serious expressions on their faces as they looked up at Sir Limrick. The man stared for a moment before grunting what must have been an affirmation because he left immediately afterward, heading out through the opposite archway from where I’d entered.

The two boys' eyes slid down to me, and I felt a pit form in my stomach once again. A voice that said, theydontlikemetheydontlikeme–, so intensely I had to mentally kick the thoughts out of the forefront of my head. They looked at each other, something unspoken passing between them before Arlen’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Finally –” He sighed, shaking out his arms, “I thought I’d be stuck posing for Limrick for ages.”

Klein, with all his snarky smiles and stiff posture, snorted at Arlen, elbowing him in the side, “Have some decorum, Sir Squire.”

His voice was pitched low as if he –Oh, he is mimicking Sir Limrick. The crimson-haired boy’s eyes flicked back to me, and I knew it was time.

Nora! Swallow it! Say something.

Instead, I gave a wobbly smile and let out a quick breath that could be mistaken for a laugh, if an awkward one. That got the attention of both of them. And then the taller boy, Arlen, broke out into a full-fledged grin and tossed his body back in faux shock.

“My Lady, laughing at Klein’s joke! What would Limrick think?” His voice was full of glee, but Klein was eyeing me still as if testing me.

As if my response to Arlen’s jokes were my worth, and if I didn’t answer perfectly, I would no longer be welcome in this interaction. The pit came back.

This anxiety is nothing. It is a figment of your imagination. A remnant of a girl who no longer exists.

I swallowed.

Does that make it any less real?

Shaking my head, I pushed down that thought. I was taking too long. I took a steadying breath and tried to reaffirm my control over my smile, going for a more relaxed look.

“Let’s hope he doesn't find out?” My voice wasn’t as steady as I would like, but I saw Klein crack half a smile, and Arlen laughed, his eyes shining.

“Oh, yes, he’s a very scary Knight of the Dusk,” Arlen feigned a serious air, holding his hand up in a salute. As he brought his hand down, he added a bit too much force, stumbling. Klein snorted.

They’re friends, I realized belatedly, and they’re nice.

Somehow, the latter bit was worse. It caused a heavy weight to settle over my heart as they continued bantering. They weren’t treating me like someone outside their realm –not in the way the other knights bowed their heads and lowered their voices, not in the way they measured their words and softened their expressions. And it didn’t seem to be friendly in the way Raphael could be friendly –how he would feign a magnanimous attitude before ultimately resulting to insults. No. They were treating me as just another… another person. Nothing more, nothing less. Never mind that I was a member of the Dawn.

And then Klein and Arlen snapped to attention, their hands forced down to their side just moments before Sir Limrick and three other knights flowed in from the opposite side of the room.

One of them was the knight with the scar that had nervously tried to set up the place setting the day before. The other two were knights I hadn’t met one on one yet. I had been introduced to all of them, but twelve names at once was a bit much. So I really only had a general sense of what it could be –like for the female knight, I was sure her name began with an ‘H’... or maybe an ‘S’. I shoved that thought away and looked at the three additions. Unlike the two squires, who were in day clothes without armor, and Sir Limrick, who was in lightweight leather armor, these three were in a mix of leather, cloth, and metal, with the Dusk Knighthood’s sigil emblazoned on their chest pieces –a single setting sun surrounded by flames and ornamentation. They looked ready for a fight. And maybe that was the point. They were all knights of the Dusk, but they weren’t with me for fun. I was their ward.

That sobered my good mood but didn’t destroy it.

They all nodded and saluted in greeting –both to each other and to me. Then we were leaving the brownstone, stepping down the front steps and into the same carriage from the day before. As I settled in, unpacking Haze and Noir next to me, I slid open the book compartment –only to find it empty.

They must have pulled everything out for the next carriage already. I nodded to myself.

I watched as one of the knights held their token up to a post, and the magelights came alive in the morning light –just barely visible over the shining of the suns above, now fully risen and hovering on the horizon.

There were more people out now, but we had moved fast –and the other half of the knights were standing guard a dozen feet from the carriage on either side. Their eyes were locked on where I sat, and I had to forcibly slow my breathing and attempt to slow my beating heart. I only had to sit through it momentarily because once I was settled, Sir Limrick was peeking over his shoulder and nodding his head.

And we were off, headed to my Affirmation. My communion with the Gods.

Suddenly, the anxiety Eunora was feeding me was dwarfed by my own impassioned anger.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.