Why Do You Suffer?

(8:1:6)

He began to hate the sword.

Hate. Such a nebulous concept. Such a strange and fickle idea built on flawed emotions and flawed perspectives.

The sound of metal clashing together crashed through his ears, through his skull, his feet digging firmly into the padding beneath them.

To hate was human.

The look in the eyes of his master as he bared his teeth in a grin was the finest example he possessed, the man’s aura curling in dark waves like thorned vines seeking to dig into his frame. He pushed him back with cold efficiency, twisting and lashing out with a blade that met its match in another ringing clang.

“I’m curious, my Divination....”

No, he should not hate.

His master twisted his sword in a flashing glint of silver, sliding past another thrust. “Do you speak with others?”

His composure didn’t crack, his gaze never wavered as he effortlessly avoided a neat slash.

“Answer your master.”

“I speak with the baker.” His own blade hummed viciously, carving out space, forcing Hafest back. “I speak with the vendors at the market. Occasionally I have had cause to speak with others who have initiated conversation.”

The other used his superior reach to his advantage, feinting over his head and hooking with his foot. “And Domini Seih?”

Stepping back, he felt a hitch in his movement, slightly slower than it should have been, his centre of balance just a hint off. He steadied his stance, catching the follow-up instead of evading. “No. I have never spoken with him.”

“Not even—” Hafest shoved, flashing out with his foot again— ”through other methods?”

He stumbled, gritting his teeth. No chance to recover. With the glint of a blade twisting around to slice past his defences, he let himself fall. Curling, he intended to roll.

The jolting sensation of free-falling jerked at his senses instead, yanking his head down and twisting his controlled roll into a harsh thump against the mat.

For a moment he wondered if his senses had shut off entirely, sparks of light and dark and odd impressions buffeting him. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. He dragged air through his mouth and wondered why. Wondered why it helped the fluttering within his soulcore to feel it dragging through his mouth and filling the cavity within his chest. He could feel. He could feel.

His vision wavered back to find a shadow gazing down at him, wisping edges slow and almost... disgusted. He could feel the floor beneath his fingers, but his other senses rang.

"Hmph, I see you do need recalibrating, then." The man moved away, sheathing his sword. “Enjoy your rest, Winds. Perhaps we shall discuss this another day.”

He closed his eyes.

&&&

Loh had fallen, a few days ago.

Winds regarded Soulspace dully in flickers and snippets along the route to their destination. He’d protested, but Paths was content to carry him.

|The master should have allowed you maintenance long before,| the taller Divination rumbled.

He flashed through an overview of current numbers within the Petrahn/Arathnean/Aphoxian alliance’s army, the grey sky flowing above between the buildings to either side. |It was unnecessary.|

|You were below optimal functionality.|

|I still functioned.| It wasn’t as if Hafest required him at his best, since he insisted on restricting him. Looking through current drifts within Soulspace, he could see the forces of Darkness were cutting along the side of Aphox towards Coletti, heading further south along the Scar. Outliers ran amok in Aphox, half of the army split off to deal with them. Troubling.

|You are a pain.|

He closed his eyes, passing a featherlight touch over the rooms of Soulspace, lingering across the quieter space of the Hub. Hafest’s promise whispered in the back of his mind. |What do you think being human is like, Paths?|

The other didn’t answer, a shadow passing over the light hitting his eyelids bringing him to open them again. A few moments later, he was set on a cross between a bed and a bench, catching himself before he could tip over and bracing both arms securely, joints locked.

“Winds?”

There had been voices. He hadn’t paid much attention to them. But as one—familiar—said his name, he glanced up.

Brei. She stared at him like he was a ghost. “Are you....” Her expression, oddly enough, threatened to crumple into something between anger and despair. “Don’t tell me he’s sent you here to be reset.”

He’d only met her twice. He couldn’t be fascinating enough for this reaction. “No. I have calibration issues.”

“Oh.” She paused, blinking. “Oh, that’s not so bad. Huh, and I sent the doctor away over nothing, then.”

“...I would appreciate being fixed.”

She huffed, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m advanced enough for a little retuning practice.”

In a blink, she’d taken out her tools, tapping the middle of his forehead with the processing core key and drawing the pieces neatly apart without his input.

“You don’t seem fully aware.”

“Processing issues.” He braced himself to shut off his access to all exterior processes so she could poke around in his head. “Caused by scalelet misalignment.”

“Mhm. Alright then, you might want to—”

He shut off before she finished, his awareness retreating to his core It wasn’t the human’s version of unconsciousness, skipping time to his awakening. Yet it also lacked... connection. There were others, but he couldn’t interact with them. There was consciousness of time, yet no way to measure it.

So perhaps he did awaken a blink later, light fluttering through his eyelashes and forming into shapes and patterns once more. It wasn’t like awakening to sapience, but similar to dragging his head up from dark depths.

“—ow do you feel?”

He blinked up at Brei, tilting his head experimentally one way and another, judging his perception and depth of field as he swung his gaze across the room, before moving to an assessment of his limbs and other senses. All input and processing of information seemed to be synced at normal levels.

He also noted that from the angle of the sun against the window frame across the room, it was now closer to evening than midday. Paths had also left at some point. “Good.”

“That’s good, because you were suffering from quite the case of cascade effect, a symptom of abusive idiocy.” She folded her arms with an irritated tilt to her hips, her aura sparking. “I spent hours doing tiny tweaks that could have been avoided if your own systems had been allowed to untangle themselves. What does Hafest do to you? Play kicky-sack with your head?”

“We spar regularly.”

“I never expected to be right,” she muttered, tossing her hands up.

Rising, he subtly tested his balance, everything back to levels it hadn’t quite been for the last few weeks. A tinge of relief flickered in his soulcore. “Thank you.” He hesitated, and dipped his head. “For caring. I will leave.”

Her eyes narrowed, one hand planting on her angled hip. “Really? After all the time you’ve spent avoiding me?”

“Hafest will expect me back.”

“Hafest.” Her eyes flicked across his face. “Not ‘master’?”

...He had slipped again. “I... have been offline for an indeterminate amount of time. I’m still readjusting.”

“Mhm. I wouldn’t worry about it. I told your friend it could take a while.” She reached behind her, scooting a chair over, and sat on it, shooing him back down onto the bench. “Just out of curiosity, how old are you, Winds?”

“I....” She’d asked him this once before. It was a strange question. “Why do you want to know?”

She shrugged. “I’m just curious how advanced your model is, if you want me to be technical.”

...That was admissible. “Five years since the Light Scale imbued me with life. It took a year to design and create me.”

“Custom model.” She nodded even as her aura did some... interesting and impossible to read things.

“Winds of Light and Shadow is my full designation, if you also intended to ask.” She was bound to, eventually. He would list all of his attributes as well, since she was intent on “getting to know” him, but most of those were classified.

“Air and Light?” The distant look snapped into sharp focus. “...What are your capabilities?”

She wouldn’t take “classified” well, would she? He let the silence extend for only a moment, tilting his head and aiming a precise deflection, instead. “Who are your new friends?”

Abruptly, unexpectedly, she froze. And stood, her entire sense closed off. “I’ve just been given a summons. Sorry I— you should get back to Hafest, anyway. Afternoon’s breezing, Winds! If you don’t come and talk to me at the market, I’ll visit and I’ll lecture your master while I’m there.”

With that, she hurried out, agitation visible in every wave of her aura.

...Interesting.