Day 4, Fall of 511 AV 5 Chimes after the 7th Bell The Library, Stumble Alley The faint rays of the rising sun peeked through the blinds covering the library's windows, gradually lighting up the dark and musty building. It was fully built, definitely, but the building showed signs of partial disrepair and obviously suffered from a lack of visitors, for most citizens in Sunberth usually focused their time and energy on more practical matters that could be instantly applied to their lives, rather than do scholarly things like reading books. Still, he acknowledged that regardless of state a library was a guaranteed treasure trove of information, though whether that knowledge was useful to one's every day life was a different matter. Now, however, he was not thinking of all this as the first thing he noticed when he blearily opened his eyes was his throbbing headache. Leth's reign in the heavens overseeing the mortal plane had ended, and along with His graceful exit Eri's body had followed as well, changing back to his previous life's Vantha form. He looked around, trying to get a sense of his location and trying to recall the events that would lead up to where he was but drew a blank. Nothing but this petching headache. It was like the hangovers he got when he over-did the partying during his days in Zeltiva University, but multiplied many times over. Eridanus raises his hand to touch his nose, for there was a sort of tingling in his nose as well that throbbed along whenever there was a wave of aching brought about by his migraine. Wincing, he also noticed that his arm was pretty sore, and he felt like he had been body-building with heavy weights to whole day without rest, although logically speaking he knew that he did not have the strength nor stamina to do so. Regardless that was precisely how he felt his muscles were 'feeling' and even now his muscles protested with every tiny movement. His sore body combined with the waves of pain pulsing through his head every now and then did not improve his mood nor his ability to recall, and he closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. He drew on a meditative technique he learned earlier in his life to try to calm his thoughts - a difficult process with his head screaming in agony every couple of chimes - and calmed his body, noting that his muscles were tensed unknowingly and he had to consciously relax them, letting out a satisfied sigh as he felt the tension in his body loosen, though every now and then a whimper would escape his closed lips when the pain in his head hits. He forced himself to remain calm, trying his best to ignore the pulses of pain at his temple. It was like there was a really tiny pycon in there trying to spear his way out of his skull. A wave of pain hit the Vantha and he gritted his teeth. Maybe a platoon of pycons would be more accurate. Nevertheless, he tried to disregard the migraine and he tried to focus more deeply on his breathing, drowning out everything except the sounds of his breath and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. After a while, he realized that the throbbing got better and developed into a sort of dull ache. He could deal with a chronic pain for the time being and it was much better than having to face a series of mind-wrecking jolts. He was impressed with the success of this meditation technique and made a note to read up more on the topic to find out more about its applications. Eridanus' mind was now almost clear, and the only thing in his mind was his breathing and the dull aches that would hit his head every now and then. He managed to loosen and relax his body to the point that he barely felt his muscles, though this effect was partly achieved by his highly fatigued body. Imagining his thoughts as a pool of water and his mind as an empty well, he slowly refilled his imaginary well, his mind slowly bringing in a 'scoop' of thoughts as he tried to recollect the events of yesterday. This was a method he used when he awoke in the middle of the streets wearing almost nothing during one of the said wild parties in the University when he could not recall the previous events. He checked the balance of flux in his body, and observed with interest that it was flowing as smoothly as it normally should. Instead, it flowed jerkily, the paths not fully attuned and his astral body still settling into the shape of his physical shell. It was if he had morphed his body to the point that his natural djed streams could not recognize, or he had redirected too many streams too many times until it took his astral body a longer time to resume status quo. Had he overused Flux the previous day? If he had, he could easily discount any partying or drinking, which made sense for the wanderer had no reason to party at an unsafe city like Sunberth. Flux...? Suddenly, the thought brought memories crashing painfully into his head. It was as if the memory of flux was a key to a dam that held the tide that was the previous day's recollections and he had just opened the flood gates. With shock, his mind briefly ran through the events, him remembering clearly what he did but now realizing that to him it was as if he was experiencing a sort of dream state, where in a dream you did what you did but yet having no control over what you did. It was with that sort of apprehension that lingered as he went through his actions, and it was with a sickening twist in his stomach that he realized the thorough brutality of his actions. It was like when one was drunk and had one's inhibitions off, doing things that at that time seemed rational and natural to do, but later on when the inebriation wore off one would realize that whatever one did while drunk was a pretty dumb thing to do. It was the same sort of feeling, but even worse, for it was not merely embarrassing himself but actually a series of gruesome executions that the victims may or may not deserve. He knew that there would be no legal ramifications for him, unlike in Syliras, but he also knew that it was a severe moment of weakness and he did not like to be reminded of his past deeds. Indeed, his current personality and state of mind was always carefully guarded. Carefully framed. He was like a drug abuser who went through rehabilitation, who was constantly fighting against the need to feel that self destroying thrill. Priskil had saved him then, and he fervently hoped that Priskil would not judge him negatively for what he had done. He was sure that the Goddess would not be happy about this, but he silently swore to guard himself more carefully to avoid further shows of weakness. His thoughts momentarily fell on the past, and again he shut that train of thought, deciding that if he needed to face his past now was not the time. The thrill of power was like a drug to him, and he knew that certain triggers in the present would be like a drug relapse, releasing him from his layers of mental barriers he willed into existence as a testament of faith to what Priskil saw in him, but more importantly to protect himself from degeneration into insanity. It was a careful balance one must maintain, a thin and fine line to tread, to prevent turning into the monster that one hunts in the guise of 'justice'. He might have been one of those monsters that vigilantes and lawful authorities hunt, but now he was no longer and although he could not demand redemption he could at least stop bringing evil into this world. And Leth knows how much evil he had brought. It was fortunate that he had a friend to prevent him from - A friend! What's his name? That turban-wearing human. A Benshira. Eridanus scanned the room again, opening his eyes from his meditative introspection. My friend, Idue. There was a strong feeling of gratitude to the man, for he had barely known him. Yet, the human had done more for him that he could possibly know, saving him from overgiving, saving him from the insanity of his uninhibited self, and still dragging him to his destination instead of leaving him there as any normal person should when threatened so frighteningly. He was ashamed of his actions, for having snarled at the Benshira so forcefully even though he only intended kindness, and it was with a faint glimmer of hope that he searched for the Benshira. Maybe he was still in the room, though that would be rare. Who would sleep in the same vicinity as a crazed psychopath? Still, if Leth smiled on him Idue would still be here and he would be able to properly express his gratitude and apology. |