Chapter 29-
Mount Dement was, as Ansel instructed, two day’s worth of travel northwest. In preparation for the journey, he supplied them with enough fish for a few meals worth. At Gallow’s denial, he ensured them that it was all extra food from the last season.
“What?” Gallow had replied. “Do you have some kind of icebox?”
“Icebox? No, I smoked them,” Ansel assured him.
Gallow had never heard of smoking before, and was awed at the number of ways food could be preserved.
“Man, I never really thought about food like that,” he noted to his companions on the way out. “You can salt them, and dry them out, and it’ll keep them fresh and stuff? That’s bonkers…”
Ansel watched them depart from his cabin. Sonsee was in high spirits, but he could tell that her expression belied the pain she was experiencing. Only he and Gallow could see the effects of Disintegration on her body, a black cloud of decay slowly growing to encompass her.
They had been walking along a barely established trail when Janna noticed Bleech’s still freshly skinned leg, wrapped in a bandage.
“Bleech?”
“Huh?” his tone was guarded and stand-offish.
“Is your leg okay? When did that happen?” her gaze swept upward from Bleech’s leg to his eyes.
“Yeah, I just skinned it when we jumped from the train…”
“Is it alright?”
“Sonsee cleaned it, don’t worry about it.”
Janna tilted her head away from him. He obviously didn’t want to talk to her, or anyone else for that matter. This behavior was puzzling for someone of her disposition, who loved interacting with people.
“Where are you from?” she asked innocently.
His eyes flickered in her direction before returning to the path; he hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Brake.”
“Brake? Where’s that?”
“It was east of Sigrit.”
“It ‘was’…?”
Sonsee, who was in the middle of describing Atamape food preserving and cooking techniques to an attentive Gallow, caught the last bit of the children’s conversation. While they were in the dead Garden together, Bleech had recounted the razing of his town to her, making her the only one who knew of his past, and how sensitive a subject it could be. She looked back, a touch of worry overtaking her face.
“Yeah,” Bleech spat harshly.
“Did something bad happen?” Janna only wanted to know for naive curiosity.
“Yeah, Warren Roseraid burned the f@!*%&$ thing down.”
Janna let out a small gasp at his language. Gallow turned around surprised at the intonation of his voice and his words.
“Bleech,” Sonsee spoke to him with an authoritative sternness. “You don’t have to be rude to her.”
Janna looked down sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” she apologized softly, holding her hands together.
Bleech didn’t look at anybody, the gears of aggravation were grinding in his shoulders, where he felt stress.
“Bleech,” Sonsee repeated in a kinder tone. “I know that you’re upset, but I just want you to start thinking about things in a more balanced way-”
“What?” he snapped. “What kind of ‘balanced’ way? Like good things? There’s nothing good that came out of that!”
“All I mean is that the--” her plea was cut off by a coughing fit. At first, she covered her mouth with her hand, but as it worsened, she crossed her whole forearm over it. She was forced to stop walking.
“Hey,” Gallow interjected. “Let’s sit down and get you some water.”
Sonsee took a seat on a nearby log while the others stood by. She slowly drank from a canteen, trying to slow her breathing and heart rate.
“Bleech,” she suddenly called. He responded to her with a glance back.
“Can you sit down for a second?”
He didn’t say anything, but he looked at her. His eyes told her ‘yes,’ because he didn’t want to say it himself.
Gallow brushed Janna’s shoulder and motioned that they should step away. He knew well enough the signs of a heart-to-heart.
They walked so that they were just out of earshot and stood beneath a tree, soaking in the cool breeze of the shade.
“I didn’t mean to upset him- I really didn’t…” Janna was visibly hung up on Bleech’s outburst, wringing her hands in an unknowing attempt to relieve stress.
“Janna, look, it’s alright,” Gallow comforted her. “What matters is that you didn’t mean to do it, as long as you didn’t, then there’s always a way for you to make up.”
She sighed and gave him a small “thanks”. He looked out to the clear blue sky of the morning.
“When we aren’t honest about our pain, we get kind of stuck,” he continued. “If he doesn’t face those feelings, he’s just going to freeze where he is.” Gallow contemplated the Navigator sigil, and quietly remembered how he unlocked the ability.
Janna couldn’t help but think of her father, or rather, she contemplated facing the feelings the thought of her father came with.
“But for now,” he abruptly broke his stare and looked back at her with a smile. “You don’t need to feel bad.”
He felt sympathetic towards the childlike innocence of simple curiosity, recalling a time in his own childhood when he’d pointed out a woman’s glass eye. “Did you know that one of your eyes doesn’t move?” he’d said to her. She became offended and told him off for making rude remarks about people’s appearances. The memory brought a smirk and a chuckle to his face.
---
Bleech sat down at the log beside Sonsee, not really knowing where to look.
“Bleech, you’re upset, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he huffed quietly, still refusing to look at her.
“I know what you’re going through, you know?”
“What?” He finally raised his eyes to hers, and found Sonsee’s kind, understanding expression.
“I’m not asking you to pretend that it’s okay, it isn’t okay.”
“I know that…” Bleech retorted.
Sonsee tilted her head. “Bleech, what’s the smallest thing that makes you happy?”
“What? What do you mean?” He thought he knew where the conversation had been going, but was now utterly thrown off.
“I mean,” she explained. “It seems all bad right now, but just think about it. What’s the littlest thing you saw that made you happy?”
He racked his brain for a moment.
“Well,” he began. “Ansel’s food last night was pretty great…”
“Exactly,” she praised him. “If food that good can exist, then the world can’t be all bad, right?”
“I guess… but that doesn’t mean the bad parts don’t exist.”
“Bleech,” she reasoned. “There’s always going to be bad parts. You can’t avoid that, but you can choose which part you represent.”
“Represent?” He knew she was moving toward some point, but wasn’t sure what it could be.
“What part of the world you’re going to be for other people,” she smiled warmly at him. “You have a lot more power over who you are than you thought.”
“But I already made a choice,” he claimed, the dreadful memories of Warren Roseraid cropping up in his mind.
“That was yesterday,” she reasoned. “Today is today, time keeps running, I want to see you keeping up with it.”
A moment of quiet took root between them, and an immense feeling of warmth swept through his chest.
“Sonsee,” he asked kindly. “What did you mean, when you said you knew what I was going through?”
He sat by her and was kept in rapt attention by the tragic tale of the slaughter of the Atamape. It wasn’t very surprising for him to hear that the army had done something so brutal, as they already had a poor reputation, even among the citizens of Andeidra. She provoked his thoughts, and he silently noted how unfazed she was by the recounting of such a traumatic event. Not to say that she didn’t consider it to be unfortunate, but that Sonsee had obviously processed the event and could articulate it so understandably.
She described her lack of bitterness toward white Andeidrans, which he found somewhat shocking. If he could pick any cause for racism, the callous murder of her tribe for resources seemed at least comprehensible to him, yet she held no ill-will for him nor Gallow nor Janna, not even the army captain Gideon.
“It wasn’t useful,” she explained. “To hate people who haven’t wronged you.”
Perhaps what struck him the most about her story, however, was the fact that he hadn’t heard it before. When they shared time in the garden, Sonsee had listened patiently to his story, how his hometown was razed to the ground, and he had chosen to follow the man who did it. A sudden guilt gripped him tightly, and a reverence for her understanding.
“She listened to me and didn’t say a word, didn’t even mention her own past,” he thought. “And now, I’ve done the same for her…”
When it was done, she gave him a hug, and felt that she could stand again.
Gallow and Janna were still standing by the tree some distance away, making idle chit-chat, when they heard Sonsee call from behind.
“Hey, I think I’m good to go, let’s start up again!”
---
Gideon was reclining in his apartment reading when he heard a knock resound from his front door. He jumped to his feet and strolled briskly to open it; the door swung open with a small squeaking noise.
He was faced with his longtime friend, Isaiah Herron, a man of shorter stature, his pale face and freckles had not changed since the last time they’d met.
“Isaiah! Good to see you!” Gideon proclaimed.
Isaiah’s expression, one of honest and alert focus, didn’t budge.
“The hinges on the door need some grease,” he informed his friend.
“Yes, I know this-” Gideon replied.
“Oh, and,” Isaiah added. “Down in the lobby, there’s a chair that’s missing one of those little pads on the bottom of one of the legs, it wobbles incessantly.”
“Did you not think I was home?” Gideon thought Isaiah must have discovered this because he was under the impression he needed to wait on him.
“No?” the shorter man answered, confused.
“Why did you sit down in that chair long enough to note that it wobbled?”
“I didn’t sit in it, Gideon.”
“You just-?”
“I tested every piece of furniture in the lobby,” Isaiah stated, as if it was a given.
Gideon laughed. “Of course you did; come on in…”
“Is that funny?” Isaiah asked as he crossed the threshold.
Isaiah Herron was always a man who possessed the desire for a space that, in his words, “just needs to work as intended.” He dressed very simply, and in tough, durable fabrics so that he wouldn’t need to worry about tears, stains, or moth holes. To this end, he also wore a pair of heavy-duty boots, something his family often teased him for.
“You may say that,” he would reply, “But I don’t have to worry about these getting dirty, that’s what they’re made for.”
He was one of the few people whom Gideon held in high esteem for his commitment and drive, or as Gideon often called it, “resolve.” In his eyes, resolve was such a valuable attribute that it could be a bright, golden nugget in even the most wicked hearts. It was a universal spirit which he’d devoted his life to sharpening. Even if Isaiah had an almost obsessive compulsion to tighten up everything in his environment, Gideon knew that his real character overshadowed that.
Isaiah put his bags down in the captain’s living room, and quickly caught him up on the journey to Hilltop. It wasn’t particularly intense, as he only lived a day by rail, but as soon as he received the call he was off, leaving a note for his wife to inform her of his departure. Gideon found this quite humorous, but soon realized that his friend was going to begin picking apart his living space for the smallest minutiae he could find that could be called an inefficiency.
“Hey, we’ve got lunch in about an hour downtown,” he informed Isaiah.
“Lunch? Sounds good!” the pale-faced man affirmed.
Gideon reached for his jacket. “Oh, and you’re not gonna believe who’s meeting us.”
Isaiah thought for a moment before his face finally lit up.
“Is Angelique free today?” he asked incredulously.
“Ding ding ding!” Gideon congratulated him, both of them stepping out the door.
“Man, I thought that guy would be busy forever, running the Academy and all…” Isaiah noted.
“He made some time when I told him you were in town,” Gideon assured him, holding the door open as they entered the stairwell.
“Hey, you know what they say,” Isaiah proclaimed. “Acquaintances find time for you, friends make it!”
Gideon chuckled to himself as they left the apartment building.
---
The warm reunion of the three friends took place at a restaurant they used to frequent in the heart of Braid Park Level 1. Tom’s Outlook was so named for its placement on the edge of the ravine, with outdoor seating that let one look down into the abyss (protected by guardrails, naturally).
---
Gideon and Isaiah first met in the military during the Andeidra-Demeena War, when they were both younger men. They soon grew a strong friendship, built on a foundation of mutual respect for each other. Gideon refused to wield firearms, so he found Isaiah’s mastery of them to be fascinating, like a completely alien talent. Isaiah, likewise, was barely able to wrap his mind around why Gideon chose to restrict himself to a saber. They both excelled in different fields, and never saw the other as a rival; their good working relationship was noted by upper command, and they were often chosen to lead operations together, where the experience of war naturally brought them closer.
Angelique’s introduction into the picture was a different story. Not being a man of war, but one of ambition, Angelique appeared on the scene of battle looking to rise up the ranks as a military doctor. His effeminate presentation and seemingly softer disposition immediately put the hard-nosed Gideon off. It was only through their shared experiences on the battlefield that he came to understand the man’s true nature.
Angelique’s goal was to attain a good position in the military as a medic, then use the benefits of that position to transition into the highest ranks of academia. A particularly memorable experience was the time Gideon witnessed him attending to an injured man’s wounds during battle. What was so exceptional was not even that he was doing this while gunfire was still raining down around them, but that he performed the procedure with a kind of otherworldly diligence and focus; there was not a single moment wasted in his administering of aid to this man. In that instant, Gideon saw in Angelique the true spirit of resolve, and congratulated him after the battle. What he found was a surprisingly agreeable disposition, and after introducing him to Isaiah, a long-lasting friendship developed between the three of them.
---
Angelique was waiting patiently by the outside of Tom’s when he saw his friends approaching.
“Howdy!” he called with a big smile.
Isaiah and Gideon met up with him, and after a few warm greetings, they entered the restaurant and found a table in the outdoor section, right by the edge.
“Hey, Isaiah, has your hair gotten grayer?” Angelique teased.
“At least I cut it, unlike some people…” Isaiah retorted smugly.
“Look,” the blond defended. “It’s my style.”
“How long does it take you to braid just the one side of your bangs?”
Angelique scoffed.
“Less time than it takes you to clean your friggin' gun collection.”
“Oh come on, that’s a hobby!”
The other two laughed at this.
“It’s a passion!” Isaiah added desperately.
When their food came, they all ate up voraciously. Little conversation was made during the actual meal, as none of the three had eaten anything substantial prior to lunch. There was a second reason, however, which was part of their strategy, and why they came to Tom’s so often.
The entrees were alright, even quite good depending on the day, but the real joy was the dessert. There was one specific dish, the Hilltop Winter Tour, which they were pretty certain was what God chose for his dessert up in heaven. It was a slice of four layered chocolate cake, each layer supposedly being a layer of the underground. Each layer of frosting was a superb fondue, and the cake was topped with a cover of white icing, as if the city was covered in snow during the winter season, in addition to a piece of strawberry that perfectly offset the taste of the chocolate.
When their orders of the Winter Tour arrived, they were able to slow down and truly savour their meals. It was now that Gideon approached Isaiah about his mission.
“Now, I brought you two here- well, one, because we’re friends,” he began, the other two nodded.
“The other reason, the reason I called you here,” he pointed to Isaiah with his fork. “Is because I need your help for an investigation.”
“An investigation?” Isaiah repeated for clarity.
Gideon related to them his induction into the President’s bodyguard enlistment, as well as his initial run-in at the Deep Sanctuary.
“Have you two ever heard of… Vocations?” he asked slowly.
“You mean like a priest?” Angelique asked.
“No I… I mean…” Gideon tried to find the right words to describe what he was trying to.
“There are some people, people I’ve met, who have these really…” again he grappled with the right way to say it. “Really fantastic abilities, okay?”
“Uh huh?” the other two said in unison.
“And I don’t mean that they’re particularly skilled at something or anything like that, I mean that they really have these supernatural abilities-”
“Like a sorcerer?” Isaiah suggested, imagining the stories he’d been read as a child.
“No, not quite,” Gideon tried to clarify. “This is going to sound strange, but I met a woman who could pull people to and from her, and rotate them around her too, at will.”
“What…?” they looked at him dumbfounded.
“Alright, you two know that I wouldn’t lie to you about something this serious, right?”
They slowly nodded their heads.
“Because one of them almost killed me.”
Their impression of what he was trying to say changed dramatically. Gideon was not the type to even suggest that someone weaker than him could defeat him in combat, and he certainly wouldn’t go close to that suggestion for something that didn’t exist.
“What I need you two to understand is that there are people right now working against us- and the government- who have abilities far beyond the scope of a normal man.”
He recounted to them his battle with Warren Roseraid and his brief time spent in the Garden of Armony.
“I’m asking you two to be on my investigation team, and I’m serious about this,” he cautioned them. “There is a legitimate danger that you two could be seriously injured or worse, I’m extending this offer to you because Isaiah-” he looked the pale-faced man in the eyes. “You’re one of the most dangerous people I know, and your fighting skill is nearly equal to mine. And Angelique-” now looking at the other man. “Your resources are well beyond what’s available to me through the government, the Academy has some of the best forensic researchers in the country, doesn’t it?”
“That would be true,” Angelique confirmed.
“And you’re one of the most intelligent people I know,” Gideon continued. “Much smarter than me.”
He paused for a moment, looking at his plate.
“And I suppose, because you’re my friends.”
They shared a silent moment, mulling over what he’d just said, until Isaiah straightened his back out in his chair and smiled.
“Well, I’m in,” he cheerily agreed.
“Me too,” Angelique shared his sentiment. “This sounds like it could be fun,” he added with a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice.
“Really?” Gideon asked, as if not expecting them to join him.
“Yeah, of course,” Isaiah responded. “That’s what friends are made for, right?”
---
Gallow, Sonsee, Bleech, and Janna had set up camp beneath the stars, finding shelter by some large boulders which they could stake tarps into the ground from. Bleech could have theoretically used Treachery to create a fire, but he couldn’t emulate the actual heat, which they were all craving as the cool evening air swept by them.
They all pitched in to find kindling and wood for the fire, and after building the structure, Gallow took out a match from his bag. Before he lit it, Janna piped up from his side.
“Gallow?”
“Hm?”
“Can I try lighting it?” she looked up at him with big, earnest eyes.
“Sure,” he said warmly, handing her the match and showing her how to strike it correctly.
In a few minutes, a modest fire was going by the boulders. They sat by it and heated their hands. Soon, someone’s stomach grumbled, and they remembered to pull out the fish Ansel had given them.
After heating it up by the fire, Gallow couldn’t help but note innocently:
“It’s a little small, but it’s good.”
Sonsee laughed and replied, “There was a saying the elders used to throw around, ‘The white man builds a big fire and stays cold far away, we build a small fire and stay warm up close.’”
Gallow thought this over a moment, and soon found himself enjoying the little fire and the food they had. For an hour and a half, the four of them talked over small things from their lives, someone Gallow knew from his hometown, the time Janna saw a coyote near her house. Bleech remembered some short songs he’d heard growing up, and took a moment to sing the melodies out of tune and very softly, but Sonsee was able to see that the memories evoked in him a kind of simple happiness that was too sweet for words.
Gallow watched his companions converse around the fire, then turned his eyes to the dancing flames, silently thinking to himself.
“They all look so happy, this is real nice… it’s like we’re a-” he hesitated in his own thoughts. Suddenly, within the tongues of flame were little images of people and animals, recreated in the fire. He looked over to see that Bleech was using his Vocation to make little illusions out of a legend Sonsee was telling from her tribe, one about a fish who tricked a bear into eating tree bark until it was too weak to hunt. The illusions were charming, and Janna laughed as he found representations for the more abstract elements of the story.
“It’s like we’re a family…”
Far off in the distance, many miles away, at the base of Mount Dement, a woman sat in wait for the four of them, her head nodding into sleep.