A Concept of Apathy

Chapter 11

“Some may say your problems are all in your head. I am here to kindly remind you that you are also in your head, your problems matter.”
– Rillo the Kind

I awoke with a gasp, my mother standing over me eyes shining so brightly green it was blinding. I started immediately coughing, blood and bile and bone leaving my mouth. I did manage to flip over before throwing up, and my mother helped me rise to my feet. I was clenching my cane in one hand, and finally started to be aware of the world. The amulet that had been around my neck had broken, the twine frayed and the gem broken into a dust.
“-be so kind.” My mother said, then turned to my father. “You’re lucky that worked.”
“It’s not luck, it’s math.”
“Yeah, but that one time-”
“That was one time, you said it yourself just now.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, but he’s alive.”
“Yeah.” My mother said, still holding me. My father came over and wrapped us both in a hug, and I touched the side of my face where the arrow had hit it. It felt perfectly normal, and I let out a shuddering breath.
Those were not fun memories, and I tried hard not to think about them. But, we were under attack, and they were once again going to kill the people I loved. And there was nothing I could do. I clenched my fist, letting my nails dig into my hand. My mouth tasted horrible, and I wanted to scream.
The sensation passed, it always did. What did it all matter? I was getting too invested, and I knew what happened when I got too invested. They were sent here specifically to kill my parents, and likely not just that. They would kill Kaeo, helpless in bed, and remove Madam Lie, making her a simple concept once more and not a Concept.
Mister Sharp would be broken, and Mister Reclamation would be unraveled. The two new Madam’s would be killed before they could even take care of the twins, who I would never even meet. Why did I get invested? I knew what happened when I did.
They pulled me into the kitchen, and I barely remembered them making me drink and spit stuff out that cleared the taste in my mouth. It was some salt water thing and then some tea with copious amounts of honey. They told me to go and sleep, so absent-mindedly I went up stairs, collapsing into bed.
I fell asleep almost instantly, my body as tired as my mind for once.

***

There was nothing here, except a dirt path. I followed it, because I had been following it although I never remembered starting off on the path. It was a winding path in the middle of the void, although if you didn’t look at the void it almost looked like rolling green hills. It was almost pleasant, but it felt like there was a purpose here. Like you couldn’t rest because something needed to get done.
I could not tell you how long I had been walking for, which I was somewhat sure was because time didn’t mean anything. I did see what I figured must be the end of my path, as ahead I saw a small girl crouched in the dirt facing away from me.
She had long black hair, long enough it splayed around her on the ground as she crouched. She looked to be drawing in the dirt with a stick, and as I neared her drawing slowed. When I was within ten feet, she turned around, and I almost stumbled. She must have been an albino, but the eyes were off. It was like staring at murder and death that had been going on so long it gained sentience.
“Hello Sylin. I’m afraid you haven’t told me your name yet, would you be so polite as to tell me it?” Her voice was soft, like sleep, or maybe entropy. I did not like what she said, I had the feeling no one else had told her my name, she just knew it somehow.
“I’ve had a lot of names, but Sylin I suppose.” I answered, warry.
“Hmmm, yes, I suppose so. You are going to help me.”
“Am I now?”
“Yes. Although, that hasn’t happened yet. You may call me Vra’Or.”
“Nice to meet you Vra’Or, could I ask where we are?”
“Asleep. I have been asleep for a very long time.”
“Why?”
“Because you haven’t woken me up.” She said that like she was surprised that I hadn’t put it together yet.
“I don’t think we’ve met yet.” I replied, still wary.
“Oh, are we here?” She seemed like she just now realized it. “I see. Well, I suppose I should offer the advice then.” She seemed like she was talking to herself more than me.
“And what advice is that?”
“This is it. If you die again, you’re gone.”
I stilled. I was so close then. I could finally rest, I could-
“Do make sure to play your role, there is so much I need from you. Goodbye.” She said it like she was reading from a script, and I blacked out. I slept hard, my body finally winning over my mind.

***
The dream did not fade, which made me think it was not much of a dream. Not that I cared much, I was almost to the end of my goal. I sighed, standing up and pulling out the sword Mister Sharp had gotten me. It was still wicked sharp even after being used fairly regularly. I looked at it, in my hand, when a knock came at the door. I considered pretending to be asleep, but if it was Madam Lie she would know that to be a lie.
“Come in.” I said, and it was indeed Madam Lie who walked in.
She saw me with the sword in hand, and I sheathed it before putting it back to lean against the wall next to my door. She walked further into the room, coming to stand at the foot of my bed and I turned around the seat at my desk and sat. As per usual, she had her hands clasped in front of her and waited.
“I could be free, you know.” I leaned back in my chair, looking at the ceiling.
“Could you?” She asked, watching me.
“Yeah, I think I could.”
“And what about the rest of us?”
“You won’t care in a year or so. Or at least the pain will have faded.”
“So you kill yourself saying our pain does not matter.” I flinched, still staring at the ceiling.
“It fades. All pain does.”
“Try again.”
“What do you mean try again?”
“You are lying to yourself, Young Master.”
“No I’m not. I have had a lot of time to think about it.”
“That only means the lie runs deeper.”
“The pain does fade.” I stated more firmly.
“And because it fades it doesn’t matter?”
“Why are you here?” I asked, finally turning to meet her eyes.
“Because I care.”
“Good for you.” I almost immediately regretted saying the words, but I couldn’t take them back. I looked away once again. She moved, pulling a chair up next to mine and staring at the ceiling with me.
“What do you want?” She asked, not unkindly.
“I don’t kn- I want to rest. I want to see a dawn, a horizon and have hope, not nothing. I want to not lose it all again…” I noticed I was crying. I did nothing, it would pass. It always did.
“The first step is admitting it.” She laid a hand on my shoulder, then walked out of the room.

***

My father was the next person to come to the door, knocking. I called him in, and he was carrying two stones about the size of my fists. One was a pale blue that looked like it was always shifting and smooth. The other was grey and rough, like someone had just grabbed a fist full of gravel and made it into a sphere.
I still remembered those hills of gravel, with five corpses on them.
“You said you wanted to measure your mana?” My father asked, closing the door behind him with his foot.
“Yeah.” I said, sighing.
“Hold this one in your left, and this one in your right.” The blue one was in my left hand, and the rough one in my right.
“Start pulling at them.” My father said, pulling out a book that had been tucked into his shirt. He pulled over a chair with his ring and started to read.
I started to pull with the Sight, and the more I pulled the easier it became. It was like the opposite of a working, and it only became faster and faster. It was taking more and more energy to pull at it, but it never felt like that much to me. It was like walking, sure your feet might start to hurt but in function you can always walk further.
Not that thirty minutes of walking would phase me in any way, and neither did pulling at the spheres. They must have had some sort of inbuilt timer, because around the thirty minute mark they just stopped me from pulling. It was like pulling a rope that had slack, but then there was no more and you found out it was tied to something. It was sudden, and almost jarring.
“I think it’s done.” I told my father, who took the spheres back.
He held them, clearly dipping into the sight as his eyes started to shine blue. He pulled out a notebook and a quill that he never dipped in ink and started scrawling out equations. It didn’t take long, perhaps five minutes but perhaps for the first time my father looked surprised.
“Sylin, come with me.” He stood up, not brooking any argument. I grunted, grabbing my cane which I clenched with white knuckles. He went into the kitchen where my mother was seated and Madam Lie was making dinner, and he took a deep breath.
“I have news.” My father did not look happy about it, which I found to be a bad sign.
“What’s the news?” My mother asked, carefully studying his face.
“There is no good way to put this, and no good segway. Sylin is the first recorded mage in history with a tier ten amount of mana.”
I went back up to my room, as I didn’t see a problem at all and wanted to be alone. My parents and Madam Lie were having some sort of conversation which I didn’t bother to follow. It was getting late, and it was perhaps a few minutes till dinner, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I went back up the stairs, cursing my leg all the while.
I sighed, once more grabbing the sword Mister Sharp gave me. It was light, lighter than I expected a sword like it to be. Arming swords were already fairly light on average, but this had to be maybe a quarter of a pound. It was also remarkably durable, and I was somewhat sure its shape could not change.
It was a beautiful sword, and all I could do was stare at it for a long time.
First you had to admit it to yourself.

***

It had been about a week since I died, and I hadn’t left my room much at all. I had at large just been staring at the ceiling, my cane in one hand and my sword in the other. I should have died of thirst at this point, but my mother had a trick where she could impart nutrients into me by magic.
It was hard to slit one’s own throat. I had done it only once, much preferring other deaths. It was hard to do, and highly painful. You couldn’t breath, which was panicking. I hadn’t done it sense, and wouldn’t do it this time either. Cutting one’s own wrists was painful, but much more tolerable. I had tried it once already, only for my mother to walk in, look at me, and heal it while also replenishing my blood.
They had tried to take the sword away from me after that, but it turned out one of the interesting things about this sword was it couldn’t be removed from my hand except if I wished it to be. I had tried sleep deprivation as well, but once more my mother had a trick for that. She could wave it away, if she didn’t feel like just putting me to sleep.
So there I was, staring at the ceiling when my mother walked in. Her eyes glowed green for a moment as she replenished my body’s needs, and she pulled over a chair. She grunted as she sat, her abdomen being extremely swollen with the twins. She hadn’t said much to me, as I think she had been mad at me, but she looked sad at this point.
“Have you ever heard Rillo the Kind’s most famous words?” She asked, running a hand through my hair.
“No.”
“His most famous words were ‘Some may say your problems are all in your head. I am here to kindly remind you that you are also in your head, your problems matter.’”
I remained silent. I had been in worlds where therapy existed, and I had heard much the same before. I kept staring at the ceiling, and she sighed. She kept combing her hand through my hair, styling it absent mindedly.
“I struggled with suicide you know.”
“Mmmm.”
“I couldn’t see a point. There was literally nothing I told myself. I was a weapon of war, only a harbinger of death. I could heal, I could do more, but that was the most important thing. I was taken from my parents at a young age when I showed promise, and I was only found more promising the more I did.”
Well, I supposed that made since. I was not the only prodigy in this house, both of my parents were living legends. Not that they had to deal with what I had to deal with. I sighed, and she kept going.
“So when I was twelve I went on my first major war footing. That day I earned my most known name.”
“Which would be?” I really didn’t care, but playing along seemed to be the best way to get her out of here.
“Rot. I was sent to a country that no longer exists, and told to get rid of it. I sat down in the center of that country for about a week, in the middle of a field that had nothing. One week later, the entire country rotted.”
“Dad said you were only able to break a mountain.”
“Your father is right. For pure destruction, I can only really do a mountain, but for life? I can do much more.” She paused, like she was waiting for me to speak before continuing. “I was forced to walk though the cities I had killed. I was told it was good for me to disconnect, to feel nothing. So I asked myself what the point was.” She took a long pause, as if looking for words. “I met your father shortly after. Do you know what he told me?”
“What?”
“That if I didn’t matter, then I should keep living. That if I had no worth to myself then others had use for me. That even if I didn’t care, I still had use.”
I had heard the others’ care argument before so I didn’t answer.
“That was about my reaction.” She told me, voice somewhat wistful. “It was a few days later when I saved someone from dying. It was a child, he had fallen into a lake and his lungs were full of water. I walked over, and flushed all the water out of him. Nothing else happened, people thanked me and I walked off but thought nothing of it. A day after that, I had the boy’s parents thanking me.”
She sighed, finally pulling her hand back to her lap instead of combing my hair.
“You see, I had evidently saved his life twice. Once there, but once more for not sending him off to war. A lot of people would have died in that war, and there, in that city, I was a hero. I helped something, and I had an impact. Not as someone who was Rot, Death’s second coming, but an actual person. A hero.”
She looked at me.
“Kaeo will wake up, and I want you to think if you die, what will she do?”

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