Empathic Distress

“Do you know where I have gotten my knowledge?” Sabedra’s voice was brimming with fatigue, but was still loud enough for me to hear.

“A gift from the gods?” I yelled so she could hear me, while being careful not to set her off with anything inflammatory.

She let out a dry laugh and gestured at another hill of junk. “From those bound texts, books as we call them. That’s all there is to it.”

That was a statement that could destroy her core belief. Knowledge from books had to be limited, and they were also dated. The contradiction was painful to think about, as if I had been spinning in circles and the dizziness had just caught up. The image of Sabedra slumping so vulnerably on an island of garbage was incoherent to me. Something that shouldn’t exist, more fictional than dragons and magic. Because it resonated too much with me.

My legs gained a mind of their own and stepped towards Sabedra. I was drawn into the vortex of her rumination, the spiral into a familiar bottomless abyss. Lying down, the edges and corners of abandoned furniture felt like targeted accusations pinned onto my back. Perhaps Sabedra interpreted the sensation in the same way.

She had her eyes closed, dormant after her last comment. It was up to me to reach out. The moment I woke up in the cave, when I saw that someone had thoughtfully tended to my wounds, when I saw how fragile the creature before me was, I should have reached out already.

Instead, there I was, guessing and simplifying, as I did when Lyla made her desperate call for help. I wondered how many more times I had made the same mistake without realizing. My thoughts somehow ended up drifting to the professor.

Regardless, it wasn’t too late. This time, I heard the screams, the sound that leaked out from the lonely place that was one’s mind.

I could be mistaken. That might all be part of my projection. The air of melancholy could be a product of my egotistical imagination. But without taking the first step, there would be no way of knowing. “Why do you want to know everything?”

Sabedra’s eyes snapped open and glanced at me. “I thought you’d left.”

A deep sigh escaped my mouth, carrying with it the weight of my sense of emptiness. “Thank you for saving me from the rainbow panther and from bleeding to death.”

“You said that already.”

“This time, it is sincere.”

“Then what about last time? Explain what you mean by that!” Sabedra sat up, finally displaying some signs of energy.

She then must have felt that she had overreacted, because she quietly lay back down.

“There is one thing that I think you should know. You saved my life. And I should have thanked you more. Sorry for being ungrateful. Maybe to you, your actions were just selfish and trivial, but to the person you saved, it meant the world.”

Sabedra stared at the hole in the ceiling. “Where do you want to go again? Melhnora? I’ll take you there.”

My request was granted. I should have been ecstatic, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I felt as if the heartfelt gift I sent was returned with no explanation.

“Do you accept my gratitude?” I tossed the question into the abyss, hoping for an echo.

“I don’t answer random questions.”

“I thought you were the Dragon of Knowledge.”

“Guess I am an awful Dragon of Knowledge.”

Her walls were built too steadily. And breaking them down before she was ready could do her more harm than good. More importantly, it would violate her will.

“Okay. Let’s go to Melhnora.”

Sabedra had already leapt up when I was halfway through the sentence. She could hardly wait to get rid of me. Or maybe she really was excited to have an excuse to go out. Either way, before I took her hand that she offered to me, I had to say something first.

“Just know that. If you dump me at Melhnora and leave, you can never know the secret to my abnormal mana,” I said.

“Knowing that won’t make a difference.” Sabedra stretched her hand closer to me, urging me to shut up and grab it.

“Then here we go. Once I understand a mind, I can access its thoughts, feelings, muscle memories, and magical abilities. The mana thread you saw might be my connection to another person.” I lay bare my vulnerability. Most of it was only speculation; I couldn’t be entirely certain that my power truly worked this way, but then again, so much of life was uncertain.

It wasn’t something I expected to tell someone I just met. But she was my savior. The least I could do was grant my secret into her grasp. And just maybe, the ripples it sent could touch her heart.

Sabedra wasn’t prepared at all for the bombshell I had dropped. Her hand drifted away from me; the gesture seemed automatic, retreating from the unpleasant warmth of emotions.

“What was that?” That was all she could ask.

“My secret. Now you can’t dump me at Melhnora and leave,” I said as if that was the absolute truth, even though my claim was riddled with logical flaws.

Sabedra chuckled uncontrollably. “Really, what was that?”

I extended my hand to Sabedra. “Just so you wouldn’t have to carry as much weight when you fly.”

Little did I know, the flying part would happen sooner than I thought. Once we grabbed onto each other’s wrists, I expected Sabedra to help me up, but instead, she helped me up into the sky. We soared through the ceiling hole in mere seconds.

My inner organs felt like they were about to slide out from beneath me. The air blasted onto my face as if my facial features were being rearranged. She yanked along the only arm I had left, using so much force that I worried it might break. I shuddered as I imagined a life without arms.

“Slow… down…” I could barely utter the words.

“Oh, sorry. I haven’t flown this high for a while,” she said without an ounce of remorse.

A warm, foul stream burst out of my throat like Sabedra spat out fire. Though with my empty stomach, not much came out.

“Right. You haven’t eaten in a while. Do you want me to hunt something?”

Why do I always find myself among inconsiderate people?