A Spiritual Affliction

"Are you surprised?" Totoya's voice denounces her arrival like the sound of falling rain, and I glance over my shoulder at her, meeting her gaze head on.

She looks as graceful as always, endowed in those wispy, form-fitting robes that adorn her pale skin like dewdrops on a leaf. The fiery webbing of her curls are pinned by two silver chopsticks, and they glint under the sun as she walks in my direction, her tall, lithe form rapidly eating up the pathway leading to the pavilion.

The bench that I sit on is a stone and marble masterpiece with jeweled railings. This pavilion is her favourite place to watch mallards when she's not taking care of the temple. I've come here this morning to practice casting configurations, but then discovered by sheer coincidence a strange sight regarding my reflection.

I'd used my Divine Eyes to sweep the area for Retrievers, but as I'd dipped my gaze into the water of the lake that skirts the foundation of the pavilion... I saw myself in a way that was both startling and bewitching. The shock of my appearance kept me frozen for a moment, the world simmering in an ultra clear harshness that defied my wildest imaginations.

My eyes were somehow the same opaqueness as Advisca's. White, but not dull, and tinted with the iridescence of bright, refracted colors. A gaze so profoundly animalistic, unmoving and opalescent now belonged to me, adding an otherworldliness to my expression that wasn't there before.

No pupils. Just dazzling opals for eyes. Does this happen to me every time I use the ability? Our visual sights linking, and physical eyes becoming as one... Glancing into the water and seeing myself like that had become a moment of arrestment, my body slumping against the gates of the pavilion.

It was also my first time seeing the Stigma of Galateya - the mark was just barely off-white colored and the fleshy outline seemed to be slightly raised in a diamond shape. It drags from my hairline to the back of my throat and within it, illegible markings of what looks to be words in the Forgotten Tongue overlap and fill the area. It is indeed not noticeable from afar, but when I'd used my Divine Eyes, the outline flared powerfully like a celestial flame.

My Thrinskar's grazing on some apples that I've left outside of the pavilion's entryway. He's too big for this structure; so I've had to make him wait out there while I practice casting the Fezenska Technique.

"I didn't realize my eyes would change when using the Divine Eyes ability."

Totoya comes over and leaks against the railing, staring off into the glossy lake with a calm bearing. "There is a lot to learn when becoming what you are. How did you sleep?"

"Like the dead, master."

She glances at me and smirks. "Maybe even better than the dead... Anyway, I suppose you're wondering what's next for you. The Ripleywells aren't known for giving up and considering you're my disciple, you'll definitely be on their radar going forward. You had a premonition yesterday, did you not? What did you see exactly?"

"Hmm. I don't know if what I saw was a premonition, master, but it certainly had the essence of a revelation buried in the frenzied imagery. My body, my mind and my soul - I've come to the realization that these things are just tools to channel the divine at this point. And what I saw in this vision was unbecoming, a ghastly future that should never be born." I don't like talking in such serious tones, but there's an overwhelming pressure in my chest that bids me to do so.

Because the truth is, I have a feeling that nothing will ever be the same again. My uneventful lifestyle will be no more after this day; such knowing is imprinted in my blood with disturbing clarity.

My master offers a slim arm toward me and tips my chin up with one of her dainty fingers. She cries in a voice that's equal parts frustration and delicious intrigue, "Details, my student, give me proper details! I must beg for your transparency, as only one of us is currently blessed with foresight. Demalrak has willed it so, and thus you will be his vessel of prophecy going forward."

My slack-jaw and shuddering posture unfolds like a snowdrop meeting a ray of sun. I can't help the indignant emotions swirling in my gut. All I've ever wanted since becoming this new version of myself is to be free, untethered to any association of the gods. But every essence of my being is owed to them, my growing knowledge of this world an allowance on their part, it seems. To add insult to injury, my very existence has been stitched into the tapestry of their choices, and whether it was through whim or a serving of justice, I now walk each step knowing that every breath I take is owed to them.

I gently tuck my chin and avoid her scrutiny as I try to recall the strange phenomenon that I'd shared with my Thrinskar. It was only yesterday that Advisca had soaked our bond with this so-called premonition, only to have no answers on its origins - not even when I'd pressed him for answers in the morning, our conversation devolving into a weary product of fervent aggravation.

According to my Thrinskar, that memory of morbidity had swamped his regenerative slumber while I'd been dream-walking, and he doesn't know anything else about it.

With a sigh, I direct my gaze toward the lake, muttering under my breath, "I've never once imagined that darkness could have a single, recognizable face; although in my vision, it seems that darkness has many. What I know to be the enemy might be in fact, a party of Retrievers, or else I saw something with a more insidious nature, something more terrifying than a family of power-hungry nobles. Regardless, the outcome is what I fear the most. Rushing Water Temple... it will become a site of desecration in most likely a week hence."

She doesn't look surprised in the least. "Well, I suppose we must hasten your training schedule, Belsifear. If all is to unravel as you expect it to, than we have little time to prepare. You've conquered the First and Second Level Rapture Position. You know two configurations already: 'The Fezenska Technique and Dragon Breath'. These may seem like basic additions to your arsenal, but they're stronger than most configurations. No other Sage or Demi-Urgaen can boast learning such clan-specific magic, none aside from those raised under the apprenticeship of Vienarti's successors. You've also managed to survive casting in the Forgotten Tongue. All of these acts are accomplishments worthy of a true prodigy, but it's still not enough to protect you, or the inhabitants of this temple."

"Well, what do you suggest I do now? Learn more configurations?"

She curls her finger and bids me to follow her, so I do. We leave the pavilion and walk across the misted grass to where we can just see the outline of the giant pagoda. There's a hint of autumnal crispness in the air, and the cold kisses of wind ruffle my brown locks as I trudge in introspective silence next to my master, our enjoyment of the morning expanding with each icy intake of air.

'Advisca? Keep pace behind us. I don't want to have to look for you.' I tell him, the lake at my back nearly eclipsed by the hedge of shrubbery surrounding us in the Sacred Pagoda Garden.

His burgeoning acquiescence lights me up from the inside and his timely trotting breaks through the garden, making me smile brightly despite not seeing his entry. We are definitely made to be around one another. I'm a taker and he's a giver, but that doesn't mean we can't do what the other needs.

My master stops at a bench and sits down, patting the space beside her. I gently poise myself next to her and wait for another airy contrivance from her to send me down the rabbit-hole of exhaustion. It will be for my own good, but it doesn't make the seed of acceptance any easier to permit when I look back on my miniscule progress.

"No amount of configurations can truly prepare you for the unexpected. Study the innumerable ways of other Sages in the future, that is my only advice if we are ever to be apart. Granted, it's a self-serving task that I want you to uphold no matter the circumstances, which is why I have another training exercise in mind for you right now. One of paramount importance."

"Whatever is your will, master, so be it. I'm ready." Even as I speak, I grip my knees and stare forward, practicing a worn-down look of grim resolution. I can't deny the aftertaste of indignity in my mouth because I know there's an intrinsic part of me that's subconsciously mindful about everything, and it's hesitant to be cannon-fodder going forward.

"You're committed. I do appreciate it. Such dedication to your teachings will serve me well. Just bear in mind that everything I do, I do for your sake. Trust in what you can't see. Believe in me... even if the mission we uphold seems compromised at times."

I don't quite understand. My lack of comprehension reverberates through my physical demeanor and before I can question her, Totoya erects one arm in my direction, pressing a palm flat to my chest and directing cold energy into my spirit. I grunt, uncomfortable with the sudden ache that's slowly forming - but brushing her off has no effect.

I am not revived, not even after she gets up and walks a few feet away from me, cutting off the abrupt tension between us. I can only gasp and wheeze, sliding off the bench. What has she done to me? My fingers claw in desperation at the spot of where her hand was, and the vibrant growling of my Thrinskar renders the air as I attempt to raise my head off the ground.

'Master! She has sealed a great deal of your spiritual energy. We are operating on reserves! This is madness.' His thunderous voice whips through my mind.

I'm just barely aware of him poking his nose into my side and glaring at Totoya, his long, feline tail communicating a fiendish need to protect me from the red-headed woman.

I rub my skin underneath the robe and breathe deeply through my nose. "M-master! Why have you... sealed my energy? I cannot cast... configurations in this state!" Is all I can manage to get out in my distressed state.

"My master did this to me as well. His master before him, as you well know, instituted this tradition of rigorous training for disciples. Barbaric as Vienarti's lessons may be, you will overcome this spiritual repression because, of all things... both nature and necessity demand it. It is vital that you learn how to break spiritual seals."

Avisca's energy is lethal. He wants to maul this woman; the desire screams like a throbbing backbone in our bond and I suppress it with thoughts of forced tranquility. Be at peace, my divine companion.

'Her actions were not done with malicious intent.' I rasp as I pull myself to my knees, but due to a confounding lack of energy, I am unable to rise any further.

My Thrinskar bites the back of my shirt and lifts me up, depositing my limp body on the unoccupied bench. I cough weakly and every straining movement causes Advisca to flinch, as if we're both afflicted by the same ordeal... We're connected on a soul level, so in a way, I guess that if one were to experience a repression of collective spiritual energy, the other undoubtedly would too.

"How do I break the seal on my energy then?"

"Simple. Earlier, you claimed to be a tool of divine intent and that assertion is correct on all accounts. Sages, Demi-Urgaens and many other masters of spiritual cultivation know a fundamental principle to be true; it is that magic can never be stagnant, remember? It always wants to go somewhere, thus it will always need a medium. If you dare to, complete the transaction that your soul requires and gain back what you've lost."

Transaction. Medium. Magic.

Her words drip with a daunting significance and I'm on the cusp of working it out. If only my mind would stabilize long enough for me to sit up.

My divine companion, though, walks back and forth in the space between us, enforcing a blockade of deranged beast that not even an army of Retrievers would be able to pierce. I want to reassure him that I'm fine, although the more helpful thing to do would be to remove the seal on our spiritual energy.

He's more affected by this than I thought... a creature that has lived many an era with his magical capabilities is suddenly without them, which is why the feeling of loss saturates me from head to toe whenever I open the bond to him. His panic and rage are more than justifiable in this situation.

My master awaits me with unyielding patience while I process everything, as firm and unmoving as the willows planted around Rushing Water Temple. I sigh out loud, dragging myself into a slothful pose against the back of the bench, and directing my thoughts to the clues offered by Totoya. Transaction? I'm hounded by another instance of similarity where magic is traded for something, memories of my time in the Second Chamber of Worship blaring through my head.

What had I been told by my master exactly? Not all configurations require a spiritual trade, yet the ones that do will reap the cost of magic through physical health in order to maintain balance. All of my lessons so far have been building to this point, it seems. Understanding rocks me in waves, making me nod frantically under the introspection of the eagle-eyed redhead.

When I'd first learnt to cast the Fezenska Technique, I'd felt my heart nearly give out. But then, what must I do in order to bring about my spiritual energy? Does this spiritual transaction with the world require self-maiming in order to fulfill the debt of magic? How utterly revolting, I think to myself, my body sinking into anguished acceptance over this hard truth.

'Master, I do not like this awful method of teaching.' Advisca snaps, his body still planted firmly in front of me, as if to ward off the unseemly intentions of my master, 'Vienarti was a genius of his time, but keep in mind that such an unorthodox manner of tutelage has indeed clipped the spiritual wings of many Sages and Demi-Urgaens before you! Only a handful of Thunder Cloud disciples have been known to overcome seal suppression. Your master, Totoya, is among those spiritual masters who are deemed an exception to this rule!"

I ignore him and focus on summoning my suppressed energy. It's like trying to draw water from a near-empty well, but with a mangled and hole-ridden spoon. A fruitless endeavor, that's essentially what this exercise is.

Grunting, I bend down and pick up a rock by my feet. There's a sharp quality to one side that looks severely useable. Hesitation overrides my will only briefly, before I rip the skin of my palm with the rock. I slice downward, parting flesh with a wince.

Advisca's nerve-wracking grunts of dissent feed my absolution and the more I bleed, the more I demand magic to awaken within me. My spiritual energy is muted, singing low in my core. I can feel a pulsing sensation against the seal, and it quickens with hunger at every lost drop of blood. The stone pierces deeper into my skin, filling me with stark relief.

I shut my eyes and send out a brief thought to my divine companion, 'I think the transaction requires a sacrifice from both of us. However, I cannot bring myself to harm you, Advisca.'

My Thrinskar wraps his tail around the rock and squeezes it tight enough to draw blood. Our combined offering of blood hits the ground and mingles in a red pool.

"Abejia." I whisper.

I dip my uninjured hand into the crimson puddle and smear it, coating my palm with the stickiness. Once my hand is entirely covered, I slap my hands together in an imitation of Earth's prayer pose, trying to ignore the resounding pain caused by the movement.

The price of magic is high... and the cost for one's own spiritual cultivation? I can't quite figure out how steep it is, or what else needs to be sacrificed in order to attain what has been buried deep down.

I'm just a vessel for the will of the divine, and my master has confirmed this sentiment. That is why the gods have seen fit to use me consistently, imparting their incredible gifts onto me. The question is, are these god-given talents able to be traded for my spiritual energy? I'm assailed by this theory the way lightning hits the top of a mountain peak, my body going rigid with persevering finality.

Nothing will stop me from overcoming this bleak reality. What is lost will be returned, that is my solemn promise to both my Thrinskar and myself.

If the sacrifice of my blood is not enough, than I will simply up the ante and dig deeper for a more suitable offering. Balance must be maintained. I am without spiritual energy, but perhaps I can take from something else. Magic needs a medium, something to channel it.

'Beast, I want you to go and catch me a mallard duck.' I command.

Advisca runs back to the lake's edge and throws himself into the water. I assume that his task is met with success at the sound of panicked squawks, and soon enough he returns; a green, brown and white coloured duck flailing in the jaws of my divine companion.

He plonks the discombobulated animal on my lap and rests on his hind legs. I grab the duck with one hand and pat his head with the other.

'What's the sigil for balance or transaction?' I ask him.

Advisca uses his tail like an extension of his body, drawing a symbol in the air that I immediately replicate with my free hand. Once I feel like I've gotten the hang of it, I use the leftover blood from my palm to paint the sigil on the mallard. The symbol is then repeated on my skin and on the smooth pelt of my divine companion.

'The Dedjurian translation for this sigil is Kazenae-ramporo.' Advisca adds quietly, 'It literally means to incur a powerful trade, master.'

All three of us are now painted in blood. I raise the duck to the sky, intoning with fraught syllables, "I make this offering in return for my spiritual energy. Kazenae-ramporo!"

I bring the rock back after a moment of deplorable sincerity, and with trembling hands that wish to defy this service, I drag the razor-sharp edge across the mallard's throat, slowly draining it of life.

Something bubbles into action in my soul. I feel the swelling of a tide, a progressive shoving motion that overrides the spiritual seal in a snap of ferocity. The release on my soul is akin to feeling the sunshine for the first time. The warmth that bathes my inner being is immaculate and instantaneous.

A lance of guilt pierces me at the sight of the flopped over mallard in front of me. I've just killed it. I've never killed anything before. And I didn't even think twice about doing it in order to recover my spiritual powers!

Does this make me vile? I glance up at my master and find her looking down at me with her usual expression of humility.

"Magic can be the breath you take and the one you release. Magic is life itself... Today you've learnt that by severing the connection of magic from another living being, you can rebalance the scales within yourself. Apply this theory to most configurations, really. The loss of life for one thing can result in temporary access to profound magic techniques, or in your case... the unsealing of one's soul. Well done." Totoya lavishes me with praise, and it bounces off of my esteem faster than I can blink.

"I killed an animal." I lament.

Her slow steps sweep the ground in front of me. In a low, calming voice, she explains, "You simply forced the mallard's life force to seek another conduit. You killed the creature; that's why it went to you. The magic would have gone elsewhere were it not for the sigil. Bear in mind that the stronger the seal is, the greater the sacrifice will have to be."

She stops in front of me and taps my shoulder. I want to brush off her touch, rip these robes off my back and scour my skin. The blood of the bird is still on my hands and the sight, for some reason, is disheartening.

"Come along, Belsifear. Now that you know how to recover your spiritual energy, let's see how well you fare in battle without it."

I get up and walk behind her tall frame as she leads me to the Hall of Reflections. These exercises are not for the faint of heart, I've learned. One can never be too complacent under the heel of Vienarti's successors, for that is what calamity is drawn towards.

I have the Dowager of Calamity in my presence and I feel every bit her victim despite the practicality of her lessons.