Flashback Break with the past Part 9

[Karsynwa]

7th of Spring, 490 AV

They did not go to the bridge. Instead they left the top to start down the long, arduous climb down the cliff face. Down, down until they reached a tower build into the side of the cliff. A curious construction, it seemed to drip from where the seam of the worked stone of the tower met the rough granite of the cliff. The stones of the tower itself were multi hued in a range of muted colors that glittered in the sunlight. It supported a strangely peaked wooden roof at its top, the rusty red wooden planks having faded past their original color long ago. The few windows it had were small, rectangles that spanned the top like a ribbon. There was also one large square window on its face, right above the heavy wooden door. A black sign hung neatly beside it, with ‘The Mist’ written in a bold, gold script.

Synwa pushed her way inside without a second thought for the sign. Inside, the room expanded into something that was far larger than the outside which was unsurprising to Karsynwa. Much of the city was underground even if his Corra Apartments and school were not. It was the simple fact of living on the face of a cliff. However what they did with the interior did impress him. Inside the main hall the ceiling vaulted high to create a grand dome that peaked to let the light in through larger windows above. This he figured must be higher up on the cliff than the small tower they entered through because he did not recall seeing such stonework from the outside of the entrance.

Massive columns and archways supported this vaulted ceiling. As he stared, Karsynwa noticed other features about it as well. Intricate designs carved into every available surface, the vast majority of which depicted a complicated pattern that covered the inside of the dome roof. Other smaller designs on the inside of the archways depicted figures that were seemingly tethering themselves to the columns, or supporting them. It was hard to tell from his angle in the entry way. He dare not walk farther to explore on his own. Karsynwa knew he was in deep enough water already with his mother to press her any further.

Giving her a sidelong glanced, he noticed she seemed to be waiting for someone. Her eyes where fastened on the other end of the empty great hall. Eyes following hers, he watched the empty spot with interest until the chimes streched on and his eyes grew fatigued. Then a figured appeared looking small against the grand columns. Slowly it grew in size till there was a man standing before them. He was older, with a short gray beard and a bald head. The skin around his blue eyes wrinkled two fold as he smiled at Synwa. After rolling up the sleeves of his plain white tunic, he then clasped his hands together and spared a glance at Karsynwa.

“Is this the boy?” He asked, his expression betraying nothing.

WC - 507

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

When his mother didn’t respond and instead looked at him, Karsynwa took a step forward.

“I am Karsynwa.” He said, meeting the man’s gaze. The man looked at his mother again. An indecipherable thing passed between them. Karsynwa felt a hint of trepidation.

“An your ghost?” The man asked, again speaking to Synwa.

“My son found her by Christina’s Sorrow.” Synwa said. Her voice was flat. The air felt uncomfortably tense, though that man was still smiling through it all. It made Karsynwa even more nervous because he still didn’t know why they were here.

“I will need time to gather supplies. From what has been relayed to me, I take it she is usually active at night. Do you know what bell your son met the ghost?” The man asked.

“Between the tenth and eleventh bell sir.” Karsynwa said politely. The man’s expression wavered for a moment to one that was decidedly less neutral.

“I will go there then, and come back here when it is finished. You can find me tomorrow.” The man said. Finally it was starting to click together for Karsynwa. This man was a spiritist though how his mother managed to find this fellow he hadn’t the faintest idea.

“I can help.” Karsynwa said, or rather practically blurted out when the thought came to him as sudden as a storm. He wanted a part in whatever was to come with the ghost. Only then could he start working past this invaded feeling that pervaded him. The man frowned, and Karsynwa’s heart sank. He could hear the words coming even before they left his lips.

“Absolutely not.” The man said, his voice stern. Synwa said nothing. However Karsynwa was not done.

“I know how to make soulmist. About ghostbeads and souldarts. I can help you.” Karsynwa said, echoing every name that came to his mind from that journal he had read. “You are going to dust her right?”

The man’s features crinkled to express confusion as he turned to face the boy. “An where did you learn that? Are either you or your husband a spiritist?” The man asked of Synwa, looking at her briefly in puzzlement. Synwa shook her head curtly.

“Both of us are in the Kuvay’Nas and have had no dealings with spiritists or their practice before.” Synwa said, and then her eyes too were on Karsynwa. He felt like shrinking back from the attention. Instead he straightened his back, then looked them both square in the eye.

“I read about it in a journal. It showed me how to make soulmist with an egg, cheese, and some flower. Also there was a diagram on ghostbeads, but I’ve yet to try fashioning any of those yet. I went to the bridge to test out my soulmist to see if it was appealing to the ghosts like the journal said. After she took it, she controlled me like a puppet. Tried walking me off the edge before I got back control over my body.” Karsynwa said, being careful to omit his friends name from the conversation. No need to get Zerous in trouble for his folly.

WC - 522

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

“What journal? Do you remember who it was written by?” The man asked. There was a glint in his eye now, and he crouched before Karsynwa so they were at eye level with one another. He could tell the man was interested so he chose his next words carefully.

“Artum Hisek was his name.” Karsynwa said. The name had been embossed in large black letters along the binding. He remembered thinking that was an odd color to go with given the book’s cover was a dark gray. There was a shift in the man’s gaze as he lost focus for a tick before they sharpened again. Karsynwa wondered if the man was trying to remember the name, and if he managed to do it.

“I suppose you kept it safe then.” The man said, looking down at the ground as his voice trailed off. Karsynwa stiffened. So he had remembered, or he wouldn’t be interested. He started to explain till he remembered the man’s abrupt dismissal. Karsynwa caught his tongue for a moment till he formulated a plan of his own.

“It is. I’ll let you see it if you take me with you to fight the ghost.” Karsynwa said, doing his best to make his face hard like he saw his father do from time to time. It did not have the effect he would have liked as the man chuckled at him. Synwa remained silent, and had not the man been there, Karsynwa might have bent under that oppressive silence. However he wanted this badly, and he was not going to let a little fear stop him now.

“If you can prove to me you can make this soulmist, I will think about letting you come with me. I have to know you are capable you understand, more than just with weapons of which I have no doubt you are acquainted with. Ghosts are a different breed of danger entirely.” The man said, standing up to glance at Synwa who nodded slightly. A smile twisted itself onto Karsynwa’s features as the man started to speak again. “In exchange for this opportunity, you will show me the book regardless of what I decide. Do we have a deal?” The man extended his hand out.

Karsynwa took it without hesitation. “Of course.” He said.

“My name is Therie Janque. Let’s go.” Therie said, and escorted them over to a small table off to the side of the doors to the main hall. “Open your mouth boy.” Therie said once Karsynwa had sat down. Karsynwa twitched his nose, and favored the man with a suspicious look when Therie produced an egg. Then Karsynwa’s expression changed into a frown before hesitantly opening his mouth before bending his head back. Above him, Therie cracked the egg open, then poured a small handful of flour after it, saving the bit of cheese for last which he placed gently on Karsynwa’s tongue.

Unpleasant texture aside, Karsynwa found it difficult not to swallow the mixture when he felt the flour coating the inside of his mouth and the egg attempting to slide down his throat. Once it was all in his mouth, he tipped his head forward again, then promptly started chewing. It was awful at first, but he managed by repeating to himself his desire to get back at this ghost who had humiliated him. He was breathing fire about that possession, so much so that he almost forgot to concentrate on what he wanted this soulmist to do. Closing his eyes, he thought about which nostril the air was coming through. The left this time, and how it felt coming through. A little pinched was his impression which left him wondering if that was because of the rage he felt. His mind moved on to the mixture in his mouth, remembering the coldness of the soulmist as it had entered his body. He focused on concentrating that coldness now into his mouth. On creating something that was apart of their world and could affect them as such whether that be to nourish or touch. He wanted to be able to touch her back so his mind went to that, carried all the pent up feelings from the night before into a tightened fist in his chest. There he carried the feelings upwards till the coldness centered on the mass of dough in his mouth. He felt the coolness of it wash through him as he concentrated until finally he could stand the texture no longer and he spit it out into his hand.

WC - 759

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

Therie looked honestly surprised when the slightly glowing soulmist landed in Karsynwa’s cupped palm. As did his mother which made him think she hadn’t really seen what he had been doing the night before. Or perhaps she didn’t think he could do it again. He pushed aside that thought as he rolled the soulmist between his hands till it was a tight little ball. Therie held his hand out, and Karsynwa gently placed it there.

“Well.. How long have you been practicing?” Therie asked, looking across at him.

“Not long, I only just learned about djed a few days ago.” Karsynwa said. The man laughed at that, and scrutinized him further.

“An you thought to go chasing a ghost just like that. Guess it was unfortunate you came across one with a temper.” Therie said, his tone constricting as he came across a look from Synwa. “I suppose we can work together. Just for today so I can correct any errant assumptions you may have about the practice. Can’t ask you to forget what you know now, so I might as well make sure you know the right way to go about it. Would you mind?” Therie asked, looking back at Synwa.

“I suppose it is better than a sulking child. You may have him for the day. I will try to keep his father busy while you work.” Synwa said, and then shifted to face Karsynwa. “You do as he says when he says to do it. No excuses.” “Yes mother.” Karsywa said, quick to reply. With that his mother departed out of the grand hallway and Karsynwa was left alone with the man. He shifted in place slightly.

“So where do we start?” Karsynwa asked.

“How about with that journal?” Therie asked, a knowing grin on his lips. Karsynwa felt a brief spike of fear at that, like his plan was slipping from his grasp. Still, he had made a promise to Therie and his mother besides. Slowly he nodded his head.

“Its in the library, not far from here really.” Karsynwa said. Therie gestured for him to lead the way, and he complied. Outside the wind felt brisker than it had been when he had came in only chimes ago. They started back they way he had came, creeping up the cliff face until finally they reached the grounds of the academy at the top. Inside, Karsynwa navigated the maze of corridors keeping Therie close until he found himself within the entrance of the library. The shelves where quiet at this early hour with only Zandar there. From the looks of things he was currently busy writing at his desk but as they drew near he looked up with a mildly confused smile.

“Karsynwa, you brought a friend?” Zandar asked, his voice perplexed. Karsynwa nodded.

“This is Therie. He’s a spiritist and he wishes to read that journal I read yesterday.” Karsynwa said, gesturing as he spoke to the man beside him, and bowing his head deferentially to both of them.

“Interesting.” Zandar said, studying the man for a moment before standing up. “Well, if you take a seat, I’ll be happy to bring the book over to you. Per library policy you can’t take the book out of here, but you are more than welcome to read it in the confines of the library.” Zandar said. It made Karsynwa feel tense again as the words left the librarians mouth as he was worried that it might cause the man some offense. After all, he was pretty sure by this point that the man in someway knew the author of this journal.

“That is fine. I will wait.” Therie said simply, a genial smile spread across his lips as he took a few measured steps to sit at a table to the right of the library’s entrance. Karsynwa joined him in the seat across to wait, and resisted doing anything that might annoy the man who seemed deep in thought now. When Zandar came back with the book, Karsynwa could have almost sighed in relief but then it was back to the uncomfortable quiet of before as the man started to page through the book. Zandar lingered nearby for a few ticks then after a subtle nod to Karsynwa, went back to his desk to complete whatever it was he was writing.

WC - 725

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

Therie paused on the page with the diagram, touching lightly the sigil carved upon the ghostbeads.

“You knew him?” Karsynwa asked, noticing the pause. Therie looked up, but there was no reproach in his eyes.

“Distantly yes, we were acquainted but that was many, many years ago.” Therie said as he stroked the book’s binding thoughtfully. It appeared to Karsynwa as if he were cradling it like a child.

“Where you the friend he sent for?” Karsynwa asked, though he felt a slight regret when the words left his lips. Perhaps this was too personal given the particular end of this story.

Therie looked back down at the page and sighed. “I received a letter from him in Lhavit where I was pursuing my own goals. It took me over two years to get here after that letter arrived, to speak not of the time it took the letter to get to me.” Therie said, leaving the thought hanging as he made a point of obviously reading the page. Karsynwa quieted, letting the man’s words sink into the void between them. He wondered now if Artum survived and managed to get out of the city, though from the look of Therie, he figured not. Artum would have left word if he did, and brought his journal with him, though he supposed the man who brought the book could have lied. There was just too many twists to this tale. Too many unanswered questions that he didn’t have a way to answer. Karsynwa laid his palms flat on the table. Counted the spaces in between them. When he reached five circuits, Therie closed the book. The man was silent. Brooding even.

“There is more to do in this city than I realized.” Therie said, standing up slowly from the table, and dusting off his tan trousers.

“So you will help me?” Karsynwa asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

“I will show you the proper procedures a spiritist must follow if he wishes to remain breathing.” Therie said curtly, and then walked over to the front desk to hand the book to Zandar. “Thank you for indulging me.” Therie said. Then the man was starting for the door, with Karsynwa following close on his heels. They did not talk the whole way back to the Mist. Not when they crossed the grand foyer, and not when they went down the narrow staircase to his private quarters below.

It was smaller than he expected, smaller than the home he shared with his parents but it was packed full of stuff. Just inside the doorway was an old wooden table with clay jars set across the top of it. Each were held in a metal vice that clamped to the wall. Further into the room, bisecting it in half was a metal bookshelf that was not filled with tomes but supplies. A small basket of eggs, a few sacks of flour, and parchment wrapped rolls of cheese cluttered only one small corner of it. The rest was cluttered with more of the clay jars, glass vials that glowed faintly like soulmist, and there was a small pile of beads on one shelf that looked faintly like the diagram Karsynwa had seen in the journal. Hanging from the wall was a light crossbow beside a quiver filled with strange gray bolts that had been fletched with black feathers. There were a few books, but they were not on the bookshelf. Instead they were in a neat pile at the foot of the man’s bed which was tucked against the back wall where a lantern glowed dimly. Therie closed the door behind them.

WC - 611