Nagith Chronicles: Discovery

He had a bit of a skip to his step as he approached Rachel’s door, his bag at his side stuffed with a myriad of otherworldly treasures he couldn’t wait to show her. His knuckles wrapped on the door and he waited, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. After a minute he knocked again, not feeling especially patient this day.

After his third knock the door cracked open and Rachel peered out at him.

“Come back later,” she shooed him with hushed tones. “I’ve got a customer.”

His excitement nearly instantly dissipated. The smile twisted down into a frown and his shoulders slump, his grip on the bag of goodies tightening.

“A customer? Rachel-“

“The cal is hidden, don’t worry about it. Just come back later, you’ll scare away my business.”

He hesitated, glancing at her and then the bag, unsure of how to respond. Rachel rolled her eyes at his expression, shaking her head.

“You look like a beaten skrat,” she huffed, her lips pursed. “I’m not having this talk with you again, Charin. You don’t own me; so let me conduct my business.”

Charin gave a defeated sigh, his gaze falling to the floor. Adjusting the strap of his bag around his shoulder he turned to leave, trying not to think about whatever man she had in her bed. She was right, he didn’t own her, but it still caused him such discomfort to think of it…

“I’ll see you later, pouty skrat.” She said as the door closed with a soft jolt.

He wasn’t sure if it was an affectionate tease or a condescending reprimand, nonetheless he simply left the premises.

Thinking about it, he still didn’t really know why it was this bugged him so much. Up until now he just had dismissed it as him being his usual unusual self. So what if she slept with others? He did-…no, he didn’t do that, did he? Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t been with anyone else at all since Rachel, he hadn’t even thought to be with anyone else. Was she right? Was he being possessive, trying to own her? But he didn’t want to own her, he just wanted to be with her; but he still was, right?

Charin took a deep breath and shook his head, continuing on his route. It did him no good to vex himself over this. When he could talk to her again, he would, he decided. He would try to explain what he thought and be honest with her. Either she would understand and they would work it out, or…or they wouldn’t. The thought pained him, but if what Rachel wanted was different than what he wanted, he would respect that. They could still see each other, right? Just not necessarily as bedpartners. He could still come over and show her all the little treasures he found. It would work out, somehow.

Now what was he to do? He had planned to spend his free time with Rachel but now he had a vacancy. Since his ‘recon’ missions to the other world his other responsibilities had been handled by some of Tensombrek’s other people. It had been a long time since he had been out at night, maybe he could go enjoy himself with some dancers? Hm, no…he wasn’t in the mood. What else did he have, though? Before Rachel, the cal, and the otherworld all he really did was his job then go partying. There had to be something else… Oh! He could go train with Malochite. That was something he hadn’t done in a while and the big guy was good at keeping him busy. If he wasn’t busy himself, anyway. It was worth a try.

It was already dark, the sky black and it was difficult to even see the tops of taller buildings, if they didn’t have a light on. The dark purple and green lines of glowing raykal blood lined on the walls and street didn’t illuminate much, just served as a warning where solid matter was. Every other street or so there was one of the live beasts hanging from the wall in a cage, spitting out sparks and slamming itself into the bars, rocking the entire enclosure back and forth from its fixture. Given it was essentially a ball of flame, they would provide adequate light for a few feet at a time. Though now that he thought of it, how did they get blood from it? It had a mouth, but no other visible flesh. Perhaps they cut it from inside their mouths?

Wait…why had he never thought of that before? It was such a basic part of life, why didn’t he know how it worked? It hit him, suddenly, that there were many things he’d known his whole life that he didn’t understand. The thought made him stop in the middle of the road, staring at the thrashing beast in its cage. Were they fed? He didn’t even know that much. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he realized there was so much he didn’t know. He knew the castle well, he knew places to amuse himself after his duties were complete, he knew the dusted alleys he used to play in when his mother would kick him out to tend to her clients. He knew the gnarled forests beyond the city but he had never truly spent time there, not like the otherworld. He’d always just flown over to whatever place he was assigned to work in.

Hell, he didn’t even know the people he killed, or why he had to kill them. The boss told him who to kill and he simply did it. That was how it was, how it had always been. Why? Why had he always just, done it? Well, it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice, granted, but he never had even wondered why. There were countless faces with and without names he remembered, remembered watching the spark flicker out of their eyes and become empty. Why had he never even wondered who they were or why-? Empty of what? Why did they look empty? Empty of life? Empty-

He covered his face with a hand and took a deep breath, his fingers digging into his skin. It hurt, but he paid it no mind. Inside his head hurt more, it was just a slurry of ‘what’ and ‘how’ and ‘why’. Why? Why why why why why? Where had all this come from, so suddenly? Hah! And now there was ‘where’! Was he going mad? Was this madness? Was insanity when one had too many questions and they could think of no way to come by the answers?

This was going to kill him. How much longer could he take this? Everything was starting to look the same, everything was beginning to feel the same, taste the same, smell the same. The days were beginning to seem the same. How could he have never noticed this before? How incredibly- infuriatingly- mundane his life was? It almost was beginning to become a chore just to breathe. Why? What was the point? What was the point of any of this? Go about his day so he could go about the rest of his days, the same way?

How had he lived like this before? Now that he knew, now that he had seen just a snippet of what was outside these alleys of dust and shadow, he couldn’t abide this anymore. How could he possibly settle? How could he possibly find any sort of fulfillment in this again? Or...had he even before? Was it just that he realized it now? There were so many- so many THINGS out there. There were landscapes and waters and skies that would blow his mind if only he could see them. All the snippets he knew of, all the fleeting samples he’d gotten- there was so much more. He knew there was so much more. Blazing fires dotted skies above fields and forests, waters so large you couldn’t see over churned and shifted, and there were so many things, so many angles to see them from, so many different times with different lights. This was torture. Here he was in this one place, accomplishing nothing, progressing nowhere, being- just being, just existing. Or was he even existing? Was this existence? This dim void which he stayed alive in?

Was he ever going to be satisfied? Even if he could get out of here and see those things, the things he didn’t even know of, things that would take his breathe away- would it really help? Would he just feed an addiction he had no way of satisfying, no way of finding contentment?

Even so, this was unbearable. What if he could do it, though? What if he could do it and explore every snippet of the much larger world he now knew of? Even if he could spend his entire life doing that...did he really want to do it alone? To be alone? Either way it seemed he’d have a life that was no life at all. Staying here with this void, or going out there with the wonders, only to have no one to share them with. Was that simply his fate? Misery of one over misery of another?

He didn’t know the answer, not at all, but he did know things couldn’t go on like this. Not for him. There had to be a breaking point, something had to give, and he would just have to deal with it when it came.

Thoughts of this type fervently plagued his mind as he trudged his way back to the citadel where he laid his head, stubbornly trying to ignore them. He had no answers for them, so why bother thinking about them? That’s what logic told him, anyway, but it was proving to be far more difficult than it should have been. He barely noticed he had entered the corridor that headed to his room, even, until a voice roused his consciousness.

“Charin.”

He shook his head lightly and looked up at his addressor. Malochite looked down at him, the usual stoic expression and flat gaze of his superior now upon him.

“Yeah?”

“Come.”

He turned and entered the doorway beside him without another word, leaving the door open. Charin followed him in without much thought, it didn’t seem to matter much, anyway.

The study of his elder hadn’t changed much in his time here. Records lined the shelves on the walls, neatly filed, not a speck of dust to be seen. A single desk and chair, though large enough to fit the man’s stature, where the only other furniture pieces of note. Thick stacks of paper sat on one side of the desktop, various writing utensils on the other. One lantern hung above the setup, identical to the multiple others that lined the walls between the shelves. The only new development appeared to be on the shelves immediately adjacent to the desk; various samples from the other world where now stored there, most of them jarred or caged.

“I have not spoken to you much as of late.” Malochite stated simply, reorganizing the papers on his desk. “I trust you have been busy with the inspection?”

“Huh-? Oh, right, yeah.” Charin nodded. “I’ve collected a number of things. Written stuff down-“

“Properly or scrawled notes on scrap?”

Charin managed only to look affronted in response. The man knew him too well.

“I taught you to write so that you would be able to properly record information.” Malochite turned, his brow slightly furrowed. “I expect you to make use of the skills you have developed.”

“Okay okay, fine, I’ll make a proper report.” Charin frowned.

“You are lost.”

The statement was so abrupt that for a second Charin thought he had imagined it. He blinked, looking up quizzically at the man. Malochite’s eyes were boring into him despite his stature and expression remaining flat as ever.

“Lost? I know where I am, Malochite, I’ve been in here before.“

“That is not what I mean.”

“Well what do you mean, then?” Charin scoffed, crossing his arms over torso. “I can’t read your mind, big guy. If you have something to tell me then tell me.”

Malochite was quiet just a moment, seating himself in his gargantuan chair and facing Charin once more.

“I have seen it before. Since people lived here.” He stated, his mouth curling slightly into the barest hint of a frown. “I see them become lost. Their eyes lose focus, they drift about without purpose even as they follow familiar paths.”

Charin felt his back muscles tense up under his neck, the hairs prickling up against the inside of his shirt. Though Malochite still towered above him, even while seated, he managed to keep Charin’s gaze locked with his own.

“You are lost. You need to focus on your purpose. If you have no goal you are directionless, so you are lost.” Malochite elaborated. “If you stay lost you become mad. Do not allow that.”

“My purpose…” Charin frowned, mulling the phrase over. “What’s that, then?”

“You have a clear purpose,” Malochite replied almost immediately. “You and I share the same purpose, to serve the master in all his wishes.”

“Why?”

As usual, there was no readable expression on his elder’s face. Even though there was no detectable change or reaction, Charin somehow knew he had crossed a line. The air felt heavier, like it could smother him if he didn’t breathe harder.

“Why what?” he said simply, oddly more quiet than usual.

“I mean…why? Why is that our purpose? Just because he’s in charge?” Charin’s brow furrowed. “That-“

“He is our creator. We both live because he wills it, we both came into this world because he wills it.”

Something in him clicked. It only took a second, maybe two, it was strange how a couple of seconds could be full of so much silence.

“I didn’t.” he whispered

“What?”

“I didn’t.” he said again.

His voice was louder that time, but he didn’t feel particularly confident. If anything he felt…numb, as if he had just been presented with a world-shattering truth and had no other way to react to it other than to accept it. He stared ahead blankly, not processing the dark fabric covering Malochite’s mid-section that was at his eye-level.

“I didn’t, did I? He’s been telling me that my whole life. I’m a mistake, a ‘fluke’, an accident.” His gaze drifted up to Malochite’s, his jaw slightly slack in his astonishment. “He didn’t create me, he didn’t want for me to be born, I happened and he almost killed me because he didn’t plan on me to happen. I’m not here because of him. I’m not…I don’t owe him anything.”

If it was possible for Malochite to feel horror, this must have been the closest he had ever been to it. His eyes were wide enough that Charin could clearly see the whites around the black irises and his jaw was clenched tightly. The white skin was tinged with a shade of gray, and the massive fingers curled into fists at his sides.

“You are endangering yourself, Charin. Never have such thoughts again.”

“But I-“

The floor beneath him shook and the collections on the shelves jumped up then clattered back down onto the ground. Charin nearly fell over backwards, taken off guard. Malochite had abruptly knelt down onto a knee, clasping both his hands on either side of Charin’s shoulder.

“What the-? Malochite what-?”

“Listen to me, Charin.” Malochite cut him off, stooping his head so he could meet Charin’s eyes. “I have seen this ilk, I have seen ones that questioned what is known and this lead only to madness. You are risking yourself, you are risking your sanity and your life. Do not follow this path, do not follow those thoughts.”

Charin wasn’t sure how to respond and only stared at the man. The last time he had so clearly seen his face, he had been a child, clambering around on top of the shelves-

Malochite shook him once, scattering his thoughts.

“You are already doing it. Focus, Charin. Focus on what is in front of you, what is around you. When your eyes get lost your mind follows. Focus.”

He had no idea how to respond to that. None at all. Focus? Focus on what? His head so usually full of flitting thoughts was completely barren. It seemed all he could do was make the observation and that string of words itself just echoed into a cacophony of jumbled sounds. How long he would have stayed in that state, he would never know. What roused his focus that Malochite was so intent on, was the look on said giant’s face. It looked amazingly like concern. In fact, it was. What a strange day this was.

“Hey, look, Big Guy, I’m fine, okay?” Charin forced a smile, slipping out of Malochite’s grip. “Just been tired from all the recon and all that.”

It was obvious from the frown that he didn’t exactly buy that. What else could he do, though?

“Seriously, Malochite, I’m fine. I’m sorry about what I said, I wasn’t thinking. I was just saying things.”

Malochite was quiet a moment, but just a moment, then drew himself up to his usual towering height.

“Then you best rest.”

He turned to his desk and resumed his writings as if nothing of interest had transpired. Charin hesitated, torn between slipping out of the room as quickly as he was able or waiting out the silence to see if his mentor would add anything else. Receiving no indication of anything changing, Charin turned and was half out the door-

“Be careful.”

It was quiet, and so quick he was not quite sure he heard it. He stared over his shoulder at Malochite’s back, then slipped away down the halls.