Chapter 12: Questions and Answers

I.

The monthly formality over and dealt with, Thaleo desired to continue the discussion with his father the next morning. Thaleo waited by the pond in the courtyard. He looked over toward the path out of the garden, a few of the newly sanctioned guards performing their idea of ‘drills’. They grunted and yelled, swinging their spears at the air. Thaleo had never been in a fight, but even he could tell that was a poor imitation.

Thaleo clicked his tongue. He peered over the railing of the bridge, his frowning reflection staring back. His frustration of the night before lingered in his mind. Why did things always end the same way? Even armed with information they didn’t have, they treated him as if his foresight meant nothing. Was it the words he spoke? His demeanor? Any mistakes he could have made, he surely could have caught. He reviewed past journal entries in his chambers of his recollection of each meeting. On each and every page, it ended the same way. Penned in black ink, ‘they didn’t understand’. They were his words, not theirs.

They often repeated the same things each and every time. If Thaleo pushed any more, he’d be seen as little more than a pariah trying to ruin their good mood. The festival was coming up. It was a time for splendorous celebration. They were celebrating another year of continued existence. A celebration he felt they didn’t earn. To Thaleo, it was a monument to their ignorance and complacency more than anything else.

Thaleo clicked his tongue. He was taught to be cordial and respectful. He was taught not to let anger nor frustration guide his words. It was something his mother had drilled into him in his youth. A lesson he continued to practice even now. Good grace had only gotten him so far. That’s why he made the choices he had, all for the sake of a better future for Serya.

A door slid open from the porch. Thaleo turned to look, expecting his father. Instead, it was his younger sister, Luria. A girl who modeled herself after Ezia in profession. A talented Artisan in her own right, but still just shy of Ezia’s pedigree. He couldn’t say the same for her behavior. He turned away, putting his eyes on the floundering soldiers in the distance. They didn’t know proper forms or strategy. They were training their bodies, but little else.

“What are you doing out here?” Luria said, stepping down from the porch and onto the bridge.

“I was hoping to speak with Father this morning,” Thaleo said. “But it seems he’s taking his time.”

“I can only guess about what,” Luria walked halfway over the bridge, turning her head to see the soldiers training. “Is this really what you had in mind?”

Thaleo remained silent. It was his sister’s way of throwing his efforts back into his face. “Any change worth having takes time.”

“I don’t know about that,” Luria said, pointing at a soldier who found himself on the ground. “You seemed pretty eager to get that going.”

“Because time waits for no one, Luria.”

Thaleo admitted his approach was a contradiction. In his haste for change, he didn’t have time for another approach. The earlier they had gotten started, the better. If he wished to lead by example, if he were another member of the Chrysalis and saw this, would he be convinced of the worth of his own words? Are these people ready to face the creatures of the Underworld?

Thaleo breathed deep. No second thoughts. There was no room for doubt. Deliberation got him nowhere. He acted, then made his case after at least in regards to the Pathfinders and training soldiers. The punishment was hardly a slap on the wrist. A consequence of Serya’s current state. The world wouldn’t wait for them, so why should Thaleo?

“We don’t need to fight as long as Serya protects us,” Luria repeated the same phrase he had heard countless times over.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Thaleo said.

“Here we go,” Luria sighed. “Are you going to go on one of your rants? ‘If Serya is so great, then why doesn’t she save the Underworld’ and all that.”

Thaleo had never said that. It’s not that he didn’t think it, but that wasn’t really the point. He sighed. “Did you come here to waste my time?”

“I think the only one wasting their time is you, Brother.” Luria raised an open hand. The autumn air got slightly colder. In Luria’s hand floated two snowflakes dancing at her palm’s center. “You spend so much time reading and thinking, you don’t do any living.”

‘Living’. He’s never ‘lived’. He was the ignorant one, apparently. A laughable notion that he didn’t need to dignify with a response. He chuckled and shook his head. “If you wish to follow in Ezia’s footsteps, Sister, you should think more before you speak.”

“What did you say?” Luria said, crushing the ice in her hand.

“If a life is lived beyond Serya’s shores, does it have meaning?”

“All life has meaning as per Serya’s doctrine.” Luria frowned. “That’s evident. If you have a life, it has meaning.”

“And who gives it that meaning?”

“Are you going somewhere with this, Brother?” Luria rested a hand on her waist.

“I just want you to ask questions,” Thaleo pulled his eyes from the soldiers ahead, and turned to face his sister. “That’s all I ask.”

Thaleo saw that Luria lacked awareness of herself. She said the first thing that came to her mouth without considering how it might sound. A trait he found almost as admirable as it was annoying.

“You want me to ask your questions.”

Thaleo balked.

“You don’t want me to ask my questions, you want me to ask yours, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“So, if I asked you ‘what kind of stall do you want to visit at the upcoming festival’, how would you answer?”

“I’d say I have better uses for my time than the festival.”

“And there’s your problem.”

“What?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luria frowned. “You’re always so high-strung, you can’t relax or have fun. You’re so quick to dismiss the idea that you didn’t even care to actually answer my question.”

Thaleo sighed. “I did answer, you just didn’t like it.”

“And that’s my second point.” Luria leaned over the railing. Her ponytail rustled in the gentle breeze. “If someone’s not asking the questions you want them to, then they’re not important, right?”

“I fail to see the similarity between my grievances with Serya and a question about festival stalls, Sister.”

“Just because we live above the clouds doesn’t mean your head has to stay there, Brother.”

Thaleo pinched the bridge of his nose. “You dismiss my ‘questions’ as if they’re meaningless then turn around and say I’ve done something wrong. How trite. Let me ask you this. What happens when the food stops growing? When the land becomes barren and the soil withers and dies? What do you do when the people below ask you, to your face, ‘why didn’t you do anything to stop this’?”

Luria clicked her tongue.

“I know, at the very least, I can say ‘I tried’.” Thaleo sighed. “I’m not sure you can say the same.”

“You keep saying stuff like that, and yet here we are, another bountiful harvest.”

“Forgive me for the insult, but you truly are ignorant.”

“Ignorant?” Luria gritted her teeth as she walked forward. She clasped Thaleo by the collar of his robe. “You keep causing trouble and spewing nonsense! Serya has protected us for centuries. What makes you think that’s going to change?”

Thaleo breathed deep. He had to remain calm. Getting angry wouldn’t fix the problem nor mend communication. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get through to Luria. It was a shame, but she was another symptom of the problem. Serya are a people so devout in their complacency that they ignore the world around them.

“Other isles have fallen to the corrosion from below. Havencrop isles, like ours, have become completely destitute,” Thaleo pushed off his sister’s hands. He straightened the wrinkles in his robe. “Do not mistake my concern for disbelief. I know full well what Serya’s miracles have gotten us. I’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. That’s why I want to protect the home that you and I hold dear so we don’t suffer the same fate as so many before us. But, when my warnings fall on deaf ears, what am I to do, Sister? You carry yourself as if you have the answers. So, pray tell, what are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t,” Thaleo scoffed. “Neither do I, but that hasn’t stopped me from looking for an answer.”

“That’s surprising, considering you talk like you know everything,” Luria frowned. “I know you went to the Underworld already and you came back with notes and numbers.”

“More than that,” Thaleo said as he looked to the sky. A black dot bobbed up and down. The dot became larger and larger until its form became visible. A bird.

“What is that?” Luria narrowed her eyes.

“A messenger storn,” Thaleo said as the black, plump bird struggled with its landing. It thrust its talon out to clutch the railing of the bridge. It thrust its head forward, its solid crest acting as a counterweight. It threw itself onto the railing, finally gaining some semblance of balance.

The door slid open. Luria and Thaleo turned to see their father stepping out onto the porch.

“Hey, Father! We’ve got a message!” Luria looked at the letter in Thaleo’s hands. “It’s from the Straconis family!”

“A message?” Taizu furrowed a brow and caressed his mustache.

Thaleo peeled the letter open. He drew it out and read its contents. As his eyes moved across the page, he realized something. This was his chance. He couldn’t miss it. If everything in the letter was true, then this was his chance.

His chance to seek an audience with Serya.

II.

Nico’s head hurt. How he was still conscious was a mystery. Between the blood loss and the migraine, he wasn’t even sure if he could survive the trip back up to the shrine. Ezia aided Rinzai’s ascent up the cliff. No mad leaps of faith, no erratic movement, just the steady rhythm of the climb. If the trip down was like being fired out of a trebuchet, the trip up was like being rocked to sleep in his mother’s arms. Well, arm, since Rinzai kept him over her shoulder. She was more gentle coming up. Her climbing efforts were aided by Ezia anytime Rinzai actually had to make a leap. The wind thrust her forward to hasten the climb.

When Nico got a glimpse of Ezia below, she moved as if she were never wounded to begin with. She leaped from rock face to rock face, her attention firmly on Rinzai and Nico. She had that same stern look on her face. It was just like when he was a kid. Some things never truly change. Nico apologized under his breath as he felt his body move. The hissing of the serpentine locks ceased as he found himself on solid ground once more.

“That was not so bad the second time, was it?” Rinzai smiled.

“Speak for yourself, eidolon,” Ezia said.

“From creature to eidolon?” Rinzai grinned. “I am moving up in the world.”

“U-um, excuse me!” Cathis raced through the treeline. “You’re back! Okay, good. That’s good. They’re here!” She yelled.

“You seem hurried, Cathis. What’s wrong?” Ezia asked.

“There’s been a bit of a situation. W-we can explain on the way back to the manor!” Cathis turned to walk away. She pivoted, then turned back. She saw Rinzai waving at her.

“M-monster!” Cathis stuttered. “A monster!”

Ezia sighed. “She’s a friend, Cathis. I’ll explain later. Nico needs medical attention.”

“Oh, right he’s -- he’s bleeding!?”

“Yes,” Ezia said. “Please, go get help.”

“Right away!” Cathis dashed back through the woods.

“This is my fault,” Rinzai sighed. “I should’ve dismissed myself when I had the chance.”

“Honestly, it’s better this way. It gives me a chance to explain,” Ezia said.

Nico wanted to say something, to talk, to do anything, but he didn’t have the strength. The wounds didn’t feel fatal, but he was still in pain.

“I still don’t understand why the blessing doesn’t work on you, Brother.” Nico heard Ezia whisper under her breath. Those words probably weren’t meant for his ears. He didn’t have the energy to question her. Instead, he was going to let his fatigue escort him to sleep.

III.

After meeting up with Baqus, Liz finally came home. Everything was just as she remembered. The squeaky hinge on the front door. The table with one leg too short, flanked by three chairs. The unused pots and pans on the stove in the corner begged Baqus to work his magic. The hallway whose darkened corridor scared her one too many times as a child, made worse by the fact it was where her room was. She would run to her mother, clawing at her dress, saying she saw a monster. Then, her mother would walk her back to her room and sit with her until she fell asleep. When she did hear a noise in the middle of the night, she wasn’t scared. She got out of bed, braved the darkness and leaped into the arms of her father. He spent a lot of his time away from home -- months at a time. When he came home, it was a happy surprise.

Liz wandered through the house before stopping in front of her parents' doorway. And she stared. Nothing had changed. Her mother’s memory was engraved in the mattress where she once lay. The long nights she held her up so she could feed and take her medicine. Her mother fought her, batting her away, being fussy even in her last moments. Liz often struggled to get her mother into bed, suffering a few kicks to the face for her trouble. Now, she laughed about it, but then, even though she loved her, there was resentment. A lesson that Liz always learned when dealing with her was that family was difficult.

Liz blamed her father. Blamed him for leaving them alone and vanishing off to who knows where. It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t make sense. Maybe it was her way of coping with the situation. Her way of trying to understand the responsibility that had been thrust onto her. Her mother didn’t plan on getting sick, and her father didn’t plan to end up missing. None of this was planned, it just simply happened. The luck of the draw. If she wanted to blame anyone, she could blame Serya, the goddess of the island for whom all things are ordained. But, she couldn’t. The world was a larger place than just this island. A larger place than she could ever imagine, so she could never fault Serya for the state of the world.

“You said this was your parents’ room?” Aria walked in behind Liz, leaning past her to see the room.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I need to ask what happened.”

Liz remained quiet. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep a secret, it was just the wound was still fresh. No matter how much she told herself she was over it, she wasn’t. She stepped forward and leaned over the edge of the bed. She could almost see her mother looking at her from the other side. A book in one hand and a drinking glass in the other. The further along her illness became, the skinnier she got.

“Aria, I have a question.”

Aria sighed. “Yeah, what is it?”

“How often do people in the Underworld get sick?”

“I’m not a doctor, so I can’t really answer that question.”

“But you travel, don’t you? That’s what Pathfinders do,” Liz said, speaking from her father’s experience. “Most of them, anyway.”

“I’ve been around.” Aria crossed her arms, leaning against the doorway. “I’d say getting sick is pretty common. But, most people end up dying of hunger or corrosion.”

“Corrosion?”

“Yeah, if you’re unfortunate enough to get grabbed by a rem and live to tell the tale. You’re not the same after.”

“What are the symptoms?”

“Your memories get jumbled up, you start losing your eyesight.” Aria said. “I’ve heard it described where you go from ‘one moment to the next’, like you’re lost in your own mind.”

Liz remained quiet.

“Sound familiar?”

“Not really, no.” Liz shook her head. “My Mom just gradually lost strength in her body. She used to love to cook and she couldn’t even pick up a plate, let alone her favorite pan.”

A vivid image that still stuck with her to this day. She watched her mom try to cook. The sun shined through the window, illuminating the loose dust in the air. The sound of the pan clattering to the floor. Her mother was staring at her twitching hands for what seemed like an eternity.

“Did you ever figure out what it was?” Aria asked.

“No. We had a priest in town look her over, but he didn’t know anything,” Liz frowned. “He gave us some medication to numb the pain and manage symptoms, but that was it.”

Aria sighed, scratching the back of her head. She probably wasn’t sure of what to say or do at this point. The topic was sensitive.

“He said it was some kind of wasting disease,” Liz stood up, her gaze wandering toward the window. “But, what’s done is done, and it’s in the past.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

A door slammed.

Liz perked up and leaped out of the room. She turned the corner to see Alex standing in the door. Liz stared.

It wasn’t him. Of course he wouldn’t come back. Liz’s eyes fell onto the floor, then back up to Alex.

“Ah, girl, you don’t look so good,” Baqus said, turning away from the stove.

Alex leaned her sheathed sword at the door. The other weapon, the one bundled in a cloth, shook the floor as it hit the ground. “I just made the rounds again. Something isn’t sitting right with me.”

“Really now?” Baqus moved toward the table, pulling out a chair. “Sit, sit! I’m trying my hand at some black snow barley cakes!”

Liz walked out from the corridor, taking a seat down at the head of the table. Aria followed after Liz as she cast a glance between Baqus and the remaining chair.

“No, go ahead, sit!” Baqus grinned. “I need to watch the bread rise!”

“If you say so, old man,” Aria said, shrugging.

“Not that old!”

“So, Lexi, things not go so well?” Aria slid into her chair. “You look like crap.”

Alex frowned. “It isn’t good. The town’s spooked. They haven’t dealt with anything like this before.”

“What did you find out?” Liz asked.

“They found the body,” Alex said. “What was left of it, anyway.”

Liz winced at Alex’s words. The only deceased body she ever had the displeasure of seeing was her own mother. A person who went out with dignity in her sleep.

“I’ll spare you the details, but there was definitely a rem involved.” Alex clicked her tongue. “They haven’t found it yet. It might have moved further inland.”

“Do we know when the attack happened?" Aria asked.

“Corpse was cold, so probably no more than a day.”

“So, this could be the rem that Krass saw?” Aria added.

“I don’t know.” Alex furrowed her brow. “I doubt it, this one did a really sloppy job. The one Krass saw seemed too methodical. This is just my hunch, but I think this one is young.”

“This sounds like the ‘lost one’ that Ezia told me about,” Liz said, shaking her head. “The one that Nico was trying to feed.”

“Wait, what?” Aria slammed her hands on the table. It shook. “Some dumbass was trying to feed a rem!?”

Baqus frowned. “Ah, so that’s where my food went.”

“Nico might be a bit naive, but he’s not stupid.” Liz rested a hand on her chin. “I’m sure he had his reasons for doing what he did.”

“Rems can alter how they appear to people,” Alex said. “But, if Nico is still alive— then there might be something else at play.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too,” Liz said.

“I want you to answer me honestly, Liz.” Alex steepled her hands on the table. “Has there been anything odd about Nico’s behavior recently?”

“Recently?” Liz tilted her head. The only thing that came to mind was him being more secretive as of late. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t bother listing corrosion symptoms, Lexi,” Aria interjected. “I already told her about it.”

“That makes this easier,” Alex said. “Has he shown any symptoms?”

“No.” Liz shook her head. “He’s been a bit secretive recently, but he’s still very much Nico.”

“Is Nico an artisan? Does he have any special talents of note?”

Nico wasn’t an artisan, as far as Liz knew. “The only thing I can think of is Nico’s eye.”

“His eye?”

“Yes, he wears an eyepatch over it,” Liz said. Nico often complained about how the eye made him feel. Just one of the many idle conversations that Liz and Nico had.

It was Aria’s turn to lean over the table. “Is it artificial? Was he born with it?”

“No, and I don’t know?” Liz said, her glance dancing between Alex and Aria. She didn’t plan on getting questioned about this thoroughly.

“Stop pressuring the poor girl,” Baqus said, sliding a steaming tray into the table’s center. “You can obviously see Lizbeth isn’t feeling well. It’s been a long day, and we’re all together, so let’s savor the moment, yeah?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come on that strongly.” Alex sighed. “I just want to understand what it is we’re dealing with.”

“Good, good. We are all friends here, yeah?” Baqus smiled, pulling the oven mitts off his hands.

“I hardly know you two.” Aria chimed in.

“This one is a bit of a brat, isn’t she?” Baqus leaned over to Alex.

“Yes, she is.” Alex said as she reached for the cake. “Just ignore her, Baqus.”

“No need for the grabby hands! You are not a child!” Baqus reached over to the stove. He set out a plate in front of Liz, and handed the other two to the Pathfinder girls. “I will cut it and serve. It is my job, after all.”

“You’re not getting paid, old man,” Aria said, rubbing her fingers on a metal bar. A stick? Liz wasn’t sure what that thing was.

“Let me rephrase, then!” Baqus said. “It’s what I live for.”

Aria fell quiet.

“I know how you feel,” Alex said.

“Oh? What do you enjoy, Ms. Alex?” Baqus said, brandishing a knife. He stabbed the black cake on the far end and slid it down. He continued until the cake was cut into four slices.

“Well, it’s not really something I ‘enjoy’, but I do live for it,” Alex said as she watched Baqus drop a slice of cake onto her plate. “Being a Pathfinder gives my life meaning.”

“Weirdo.” Aria continued attacking her fingernails with the serrated, metal bar. She examined her fingernails as she blew on them. It must be some kind of custom in the Underworld.

“Why do you say that?” Liz asked.

“You haven’t known Lexi for very long, Liz, so let me tell you this.” Aria tucked the metal rod away. “She’s a workaholic. Even if you don’t pay her, she’ll do the work.”

“Honestly, that’s pretty admirable.” Liz smiled. “But, honestly, I’d be fairly suspicious if someone acted like that around me.”

“See?” Aria pointed at Liz. “I’m not crazy. I’ve said the same thing to her, but she doesn’t get it.”

Alex sighed as Baqus handed her a fork. She slowly moved it toward the cake and stabbed into it. She shoved the piece into her mouth. “Hmm, that’s pretty good!”

“Seriously?” Aria prodded her cake, grimacing. “It looks burnt.”

“It’s black snow barley cake.” Liz said, narrowing her eyes at the chef. “You couldn’t resist, could you?”

“The opportunity presented itself, so I figured, why not?” Baqus laughed.

Liz found herself staring across the table. It was like nothing had changed. The sweet scent of the cake hung in the air. The sound of silverware scraping against the plates. Baqus’s laughter made her think of her father. Aria’s complaining sounded more like her mother than she wanted to admit. It was like nothing had changed.

Liz dug into the barley cake. She examined the inside to see that the inside was properly cooked. Baqus hovered over her, clasping his hands together. Liz shot him a smile as she stabbed the cake. She slowly brought it to her mouth. Crumbs rained from the fork onto the plate.

“It’s ready!” Her mother said.

“Don’t eat too fast!” Her mother warned.

“Come on, Lizbeth! You’ll choke!”

“It’s good,” Liz mumbled.

“You alright?” Alex asked.

“What?” Liz reached a hand up to her face.

Tears.

She was crying.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Liz sniffled as she wiped her eyes with her palms. “That’s not like me.”

Baqus leaned down, a hand on Liz’s shoulder. “There is no shame in crying for the things you’ve lost, Liz. No one here will judge you. I know I won’t.”

“No, it’s fine.” Liz rubbed her eyes. “There’s more important things to deal with. We’ve got—”

“He’s right,” Alex interrupted. “You’re not doing yourself any favors here, Liz.”

“You’re one to talk,” Aria mumbled.

“Hey, Aria, I want to talk to you for a second,” Alex walked over and grabbed Aria by the scruff of the neck.

Aria complained, but then, she was gone. The door shut behind them. The Pathfinders left the room.

Liz knew what Alex was doing.

She appreciated it.

“This is your home, so if you like, I can leave as well.”

Liz vehemently shook her head. Then, she embraced Baqus, hiding her face in his shoulder.

She cried.

For the first time in years, she cried.

The tears flowed freely, regardless of who could hear.

As she cried, she peered through the window. The red hue of the evening sky blurred through her tears. She saw the shadows move and sway. Then, she saw two eyes peering back. Yellow eyes illuminating the dark of the treeline. Then, she blinked.

They were gone.