Edge Cases - 151 - Book 3: Chapter 16: An Act of Kindness

Sev didn’t answer for a while. He watched the stars spin above them, felt the anxiety rise and fall; eventually, it left him, and he let out a slow breath.

The emotion wasn’t his own. Not exactly. He didn’t know where it had come from, but Derivan’s words had struck a chord within him, calling forth a memory. The dissonance he felt wasn’t even from the memory itself — it was from the way it rubbed up against the rest of his thoughts, jarring and not quite his own.

He let it go. He’d been having more of these episodes lately, flashes of memory that didn’t seem to come from Earth; echoes of conversations he’d never had. Maybe it had something to do with his link to the gods. Maybe it was nothing at all.

More important were Derivan’s words.

“I think you’re right,” Sev eventually said. He let the silence stretch again after that statement, searching for the words. “Or… I think you put into words how I feel about it, anyway. I try to think that way. It doesn’t always work out.”

“Sometimes it is difficult,” Derivan agreed. “But I have never found it not worthwhile.”

“You haven’t been out here for very long.”

“That is true,” Derivan acknowledged. “Perhaps my mind will change. But I hope it does not. And if it does… I will have you still, I hope, to rekindle my hope.”

Sev chuckled. “Very poetic.”

“I have been reading quite a lot.”

“Anything good?”

“Most of them,” Derivan said, considering the question. “It may be worth your time to take a look at some of the books. I have been informed that they do not necessarily reflect the history of this world, or the books that were written here; perhaps the nature of this place as a template, drawing on any available information…”

“Are you saying they might have books from Earth?” Sev sat up suddenly.

“No,” Derivan said, dashing his hopes. “Or perhaps they do. I do not know, and there are none here I can ask. But you would know better than I.”

“No planeshifted here, huh,” Sev murmured. The thought felt strange to him, and he let it linger in his mind for a while, considering it. Derivan had said something earlier about how he’d acquired Shift. Histre had shifted back to the divine plane in front of him, and something in that interaction had granted him the stat.

That was a planeshift, wasn’t it?

The difference between the divine plane and Earth wasn’t exactly clear to him. They were both results of something similar, no doubt; perhaps a planeshift from a place like Earth was just significantly more expensive. Farther away.

If that was the case…

“Do you suppose the planeshifted made the system?” Sev asked out loud, feeling a little foolish as he did so. “It’s a form of Shifting, right? And the system makes extensive use of it for… just about everything.”

“I have thought about it,” Derivan said, surprising him. “Perhaps a planeshifted landed here by accident, and began studying the phenomenon of Shifting in an attempt to get back. It would explain many details.”

“But there’s no way for us to know for sure, huh?”

“Perhaps not immediately.” Derivan shrugged, the movement looking a little ridiculous on his enormous frame. Sev still felt dwarfed by him. “But I would not discount the possibility that we will know eventually.”

It felt like there was something there. It felt like it was something he should know, even; the information teased at the edge of his mind, endlessly frustrating, until he eventually decided to let it go.

It didn’t matter who made the system, really. It only mattered what they did now.

Sev hummed, and his mind drifted again, back to Derivan’s words on hope.

“I think,” he said. “That I want to do something kind.”

“Oh?” Derivan tilted his head. “You are plenty kind, I believe.”

“I try, but I want to be intentional about it, at least for today. You talked about hope being a choice, and I think that’s what I need.” Sev hesitated. “I need… I just need a reminder. Of who I am.”

It felt good to get the words out, to see the lack of judgment in Derivan’s eyes. The armor simply nodded in acceptance. “Would you like some company for this?” he asked. “Or would you like to do it alone?”

“Alone,” Sev answered before he could think about it; if he gave himself more than a second, he knew he’d ask for Derivan to accompany him, even though part of his mind was telling him he needed to do this alone. “But thank you.”

At the best of times, it was hard for Sev to articulate exactly how he felt, with so much of his past just a blank nothing in his head. There was a certain level of detachment from the world, a certain level of disassociation that he often told himself he’d gotten used to.

The truth of it was that he thought about it all the time. Not when he was around his friends, but in his quiet moments — in the moments he sat alone, and allowed his thoughts to run their course — he wondered. He wondered what his parents were like, what his culture was like, if he’d had any friends back on Earth that cared about or missed him.

He wondered what he’d been like.

He was blisteringly aware of the possibility that he hadn’t been this. That he’d been someone else, once upon a time; that he’d had different hopes, different dreams, different ideals. Sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t just an imposter occupying the same body, if everything about his original self had been wiped away.

Except it hadn’t, really. There were small pieces that remained — floating pieces of memory that weren’t quite connected to anything else, but still served as reminders that he’d come from Earth. There were things that felt more comfortable to him, more natural.

Being kind was one of them.

Derivan’s words had triggered a vague memory, and he recognized the source of the dissonance, now that he was walking by himself. It felt like he’d been on the opposite end of that conversation, once upon a time — like he’d once been the one to say those words, to speak of hope as a choice.

What are you doing?Aurum’s voice popped up near him, like a child speaking over his shoulder. Sev had gotten used enough to it now that he didn’t immediately jump and spin around. Instead, he let a second pass, watching a leaf drift to the ground.

Looking for an opportunity to be kind,he answered after a moment passed.

What does that mean? Aren’t you kind already?

Sev chuckled. Kindness is like… a reaction to circumstance, he explained. You will have opportunities to be kind no matter what. But you can seek those opportunities out, or you can wait for them to come to you.

But why’re you looking for them? Aurum practically bounced in his ear, a kid impatient to hear the answer. Sev chuckled again.

It makes me feel a little more like myself, Sev said. I think this is the sort of thing I used to do…

Sev lapsed into silence. Aurum seemed satisfied enough with the answer, and didn’t say anything further, but Sev’s thoughts were distracted by the shadow he caught on to just at the edge of the festival, far away from any of the noise and attractions.

He hadn’t even realized he’d walked this far. His feet had just carried him forward, away from all the noise and celebration, and now he stood nearly at the edge of Mundane. Grasslands stretched in front of him, obscured by the illusory panes that stood scattered in the air. A single tree stood, the trunk as wide as three orcs put together, the branches so high they disappeared behind that same false-air phenomenon.

And standing almost completely hidden by the shade, except from Sev’s angle of approach, was a single shadow elemental. He’d only caught sight of them because of the flicker of darkness at the very edge of the trunk.

Sev found himself speeding up. [Triage] was pinging.

Just behind the tree, someone was dying.

He wasn’t hurt, as far as Sev could tell. He was perfectly intact. He sat at the roots of the tree, staring up at the sky, at the stray sparks of magic that flew into sight, and he seemed… at peace.

“Are you alright?” Sev asked, even though he knew the elemental wasn’t.

It took a moment for him to get a response. The elemental barely seemed to realize that Sev was there, at first; when he did, he blinked a slow blink, the dim light of his eyes fading behind shadow. For a moment, Sev worried he was too late, and that that was the man’s last breath.

But his eyes opened again, and focused on Sev. The elemental managed a small smile. “Didn’t think anyone would find me out here.”

“I almost didn’t,” Sev admitted. He reached forward, then hesitated. “Can I heal you?”

A small, knowing smile. “You can try.”

A part of Sev knew before he even tried that healing him would do nothing. [Triage] told him as much. He wasn’t out of options, but healing whatever this was… the passive sense afforded to him by his skills told him it would strip away everything from him.

You need to care about yourself, too. Misa’s voice echoed in his head, a small reminder.

He wouldn’t die. Losing all his memories was even something he’d done before. But… it would be a type of death, he knew, and he’d lost enough that he wasn’t certain it was something he could come back from.

“Healing’s a bit out of the question these days.” The shadow elemental didn’t seem to be aware of the thoughts running through Sev’s head. “Don’t kill yourself trying to help me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Sev said, though he didn’t sound convincing, even to himself. The shadow elemental cracked an eye open at him and stared, and Sev somehow felt vaguely embarrassed.

“Name’s Aneryn,” the elemental said after a moment. “What’s yours?”

“Sev,” Sev said. “Aneryn’s a strange name, no offense. You guys usually have names that are very… Earthlike.”

“Don’t know what that means.” Aneryn raised an eyebrow at him. “I assume it’s got to do with this language we’re speaking. But I reckon your name isn’t much Earthlike, either.”

…He had a point, there.

“What happened to you?” Sev asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Magical accident.” Aneryn shrugged. “S’complicated. I’m from Combat. It’s very, very hard to off one of us, but it ain’t impossible.”

“I’m sorry.” An awkward beat, as Sev searched for something to say. “Why are you… why are you here?”

“Wanted to be by the Festival.” Aneryn shifted uncomfortably, and Sev automatically reached out to help him adjust. “Thanks. Hard to move right now. Think I’ve got an hour left, maybe two.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless you’ve got a god in your back pocket.” Aneryn grinned at him, and Sev shifted uncomfortably, mostly because he technically did… though he doubted Aurum would be able to do anything about this. Or maybe he would?

Either way, the link was silent.

“Honestly didn’t think I’d have any company.” Aneryn didn’t look at him as he said this; a bit of his swagger faded away. “Chose this spot so no one would have to see. Don’t want to ruin the big day for anyone. But… it’d be nice not to die alone.”

“Is that why you aren’t facing the festival?” Sev asked softly. “I can hide us. If you want to watch.”

Aneryn seemed surprised, then grateful. “…I’d like that. If you could help me move. Can’t really move myself, y’see.”

“Of course.” Sev leaned down to help the surprisingly heavy man maneuver into place, carefully activating the bracelet he still wore as he did so. To use it to hide them was… absolutely an abuse of its properties, and would no doubt break it sooner.

But Aneryn seemed grateful, and a small peace seemed to spread through him as he watched the dances, the duels, and the fights.

“Tell me about yourself?” Sev asked. “So I can remember you.”

“What makes ya think I don’t have anyone to remember me already?” Aneryn grinned at him, but the grin quickly faded into something contemplative, then grateful.

“…It’d mean a lot, kid. But it’s a long story.”

Sev hummed, and sat himself down next to the shadow elemental. “I’ve got time.”