Chapter 20: Discipline

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After Jack’s weeping session, he goes to sleep as he always does after wallowing in self pity.

I categorize and experience the consolidated memories using my conscious as the viewer while I guard my body during this time as Jack lacks the awareness for defense.

I routinely accomplish this task every night. My true bane is the concurrence behind Jack’s sound manipulation. With mere fluctuations of a string, he can elicit parallel emotions from his experiences that greatly outdo my own consolidation.

Regardless of his frailty and failings he accomplishes my goal with greater competence than I can hope to in my current state. This emotion is new to me. I do not understand it, but it the sensation is very similar to helplessness. I also irrationally prejudice Jack in my mind. The feeling only grows as I dwell on its cause.

He achieves his goals without smudges or scars. They flow towards him as if a guardian looks over him. Hah, hah. He may just have one.

A crack opens from the door. The fat, ugly man who ordered the wasting of energy by running in circles appears with a hellish glint in his eye. His breathing quickens as he unsheathes a knife while closing the door.

Jack’s conscious lodges itself deep within my subconscious during sleep, so I am free to handle this situation as I please. I prepare my body for this human’s consolidation.

He approaches then stabs with his dagger downwards towards my neck. I grab his right hand mid air then jerk his arm towards me forcing his face close. I seize the back of his neck then I let go of his right wrist smoothly clamping the hand over his mouth.

My chest cavity cracks open from my sternum revealing my organs. At the end of each rib is a sharpened hook with prickly barbs meant for latching. I pull the man's face into the pit of organs as he attempts to scream.

I let go of the man's mouth right before he lands within my trap. My ribs clench the man's neck as my organs crawl into his eyes and ears and mouth. He suffocates as his brain is given a lobotomy from my sentient intestines.

He dies near instantly. I shift his body into the bed. I consolidate his soul before integrating his body within my own. The flesh only takes a few minutes with the help of acidic and diluting fluids. The bones take more time, but I complete the process within an hour.

I melt and eat his clothes as well before soaking up his blood leaving the room free of proof besides his knife. I corrode the metal over the next several hours and use the materials to strengthen my bones. The diamond encrusted within the hilt proves arduous to process, but I manage over several hours. Jack has chosen and continues choosing dangerous paths for his purposes, so I must act accordingly.

The female he fought proves our weakness. I am forced to speed up my conversion as she had control over our very lives. A bladed weapon would have left us in shambles. If I resorted to desperate measures, then Jack’s current life would be shredded beyond repair.

He alone holds power over this species salvation, and I cannot allow his delicate mind to unravel over minor difficulties. His perfected consolidation will be necessary for my ambition. Jack’s conscious starts to stir, so I orient myself back into the pits of his mind.

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My eyes open as fullness presses on me. My body feels bigger once more. After the battle with Joan, Deluge must feel vulnerable. With the rumors circulating throughout the school, my increased size will prove believable as no one will consider a beginner barely larger than her beating the excellent gemchainer.

I rise from my bed noticing my room’s appearance. The last time I entered the room Luke greeted me before I could soak the area in. Two beds lined the room with brown wooden frames supporting feathered mattresses.

Wall paintings cover the expanses of pale stone. Each image blends into the other with varying degrees of aging implying many students painted these artworks over many years. The floors hold red cedar planks gleaming from well maintained layers of polish and stain. The smell of the cedar mixes with the stone creating a solid, intoxicating aroma.

The bed beside me lays empty when an understanding detonates. I have classes today. I unpack my belongings hurriedly noticing a heavy thump in my footsteps. I put on a simple brown shirt with black pants and the red leather shoes I gained from Geralt then head out with my school supplies and harp within my knapsack.

I reach the front of the dorm to see the same older student. He gives me a weary stare then asks rigidly, “May I help you?”

I ask in haste, “How do I get my class sheets? I need to get to my class.”

He replies precariously, “We have your class sheets here. You're Jack Donovan right? Here's the sheets for your classes. Have a good day.”

I reply gratefully, “Thank you. What is your name?”

“Daniel.”

“Then until we meet again Daniel,” I conclude.

I use my mental map with the classes building numbers then I run down the route I devise. A building with sweeping arches across its doorways and windows greets my eyes. Orange windows grace the building's exterior while gray, triangular stone bricks form squares that make up the construction’s exterior.

I enter the building through trademark oak doors. Stars of all kinds gleam on the roof with translucent lights spawning from methods I know nothing of. The strange sensation of curiosity builds from my toes until I brim with anticipation.

I walk into the class in the middle of the teacher's lecture. Several students lean on their arms in boredom. I sit in the front room preparing for an onslaught of knowledge.

Disappointment greets me.

The class discusses religion with inklings of astronomy, but their explanations immediately fall under Deluge’s scrutiny.

Our professor will say, “And so Evela and Baro met under the tree of life. Here they loved together creating the spirit of this world Gaia.”

Deluge skeptically mocks, “You professor has explained nothing. He simply tells then expects you to listen mindlessly. Let me ask him questions.”

I reply apprehensively, “That may not be the best idea. These professors seem rather narrow minded whenever criticism or scrutiny is involved.”

Deluge snaps, “You question other humans behavior with great frequency. Why is this one different?”

I reply bashfully, “Because this is public, and I do not wish for my reputation to be tainted.”

He replies mockingly, “So beating a sword fighter with your fists is the reputation you so desire?”

I reply indignantly, “Reputation has nothing to do with my actions! I persevere for myself.”

He responds pleasantly, “Then give me the same opportunity. This material evades me. I wish to understand this gibberish.”

I disquietly mutter, “Then please do so within reason.”

I ebb into the subconscious then Deluge’s perspective becomes mine once more.

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I raise my hand in the same customary ritual that humans use for questioning. The white haired professor with slicked hair then says, “What is your question?”

I reply with candor, “How did Evela and Baro come into existence?”

The professor responds with disappointment, “They were the first beings of creation. Have you not been paying attention?”

I reply while staring at my fingers, “No.”

I then look at the man and ask, “So there is no explanation for their existence? All other beings may be explained from some other means except these two. Is this not like supporting a castle with pillars of sand?”

He responds in surprise, “They are omnipotent and all-knowing! They need not fall under our rules.”

I respond contemptuously, “But everything else they create must? You also mention how the beings are perfect and loving creatures correct?”

He responds with developing fervor, “Of course they are! They give us all life.”

“So for a pair of omnipotent and all-knowing beings, surely they understand how to create a world without suffering correct?”

“Of course! They are perfect! What is your point boy?”

I open my arms gesturing with my palms as I say, “Then they willingly choose to create all of this world's suffering. They know of what will happen, yet the choose for the events to unfold regardless of the misery and pain of others.”

I take a breath before I say, “I know of a friend whose parents were struck by lightning and murdering his father instantly. He then watched as his mother's life slowly withered to nothing in front of his eyes. Why would these beings allow such inexcusable acts to occur?”

The professor responds with far less passion than earlier, “This, along with all things is a part of their plan.”

“So his enslavement over the next three months also stemmed from, ‘Their plan?’”

The professor responds with discomfort, “Is he not with us now? They chose to save him.”

“He was assaulted by bandits then left for dead within a chasm. I saved him from the cruel fate of being devoured by insects at the bottom of the abyss. You believe that such a sadistic and contorted pair of gods will offer you salvation?”

The professor pales as I turn and gesture to the other students, “You believe that these gods will offer you enlightenment? Do you believe they give respite from the storm of this world?”

I pause before continuing, “No such gods exist. This class is pointless.”

The faces of the other students vary from stunned silence to blank stares with open jaws. I rotate with my possessions in hand then walk outside of the classroom with heavy thumps.

Jack reaches out, “What are you doing Deluge?”

“I merely presented the arguments we thought of during the class.”

“You essentially obliterated the professor’s whole life’s work.”

I shrug my shoulders as I say, “He has invested himself in the hollow deceit of the imaginary. The only reason he still holds faith in the nonsense he spouts is because he refuses the real in favor of his make believe nonsense.”

“There are times when ignorance shelters the mind from the pain of truth. He is a decrepit old man. He cannot undo what he has done. Tell me, how does berating his life help him besides giving yourself complacency?”

I hiss, “I offer reason to the students who accept his brain washing.”

Jack snaps, “Those same students may be sheltered by the very same ignorance that he presents. They may find their own salvation in his blindness.”

I murmur, “don’t you understand that life is only truly lived if the person faces reality?”

“Do you believe yourself a god? Do you think you alone decide what is life and what isn't? Who are we to order them what is truly living and what isn't?”

My head begins to crack. Jack is both right and wrong. Discomfort assails me. My face reddens as I ponder over what he has said. I wish for the negation of my existence. I do not want this anymore.

Jack says,“It will be alright. You just need to apologize during the next class. Your arguments were grounded in rational while arising from emotion. I am sure he is reasonable enough to accept your apology.”

Disgust assails me then I hiss, “The very thought mangles me. I do not want to.”

Jack states, “You have done wrong. I know it's hard, but you have to reconcile with the man. At least offer your apologies.”

I ponder before I say, “I shall at a later date. This feeling is too intense for such actions right now. Your next class is almost upon us.”

I finish after a moment, “I shall think before I act next time.”

Jack replies,“At times your boldness helps, but during other moments it transforms into rashness. This, as all other conflicts that have occurred, shall pass in time Deluge.”

I smirk, “But of course. I over think this problem. Rare that I am the foolish one.”

Jack nudges my conscious out of control while while laughing as he says, “Not as rare as you think nor believe.”

Hah. His arrogance is amusing at times.

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I shift back into the sentient portion of my mind then walk towards my next class. I gait through the edges of the university's grounds as the pathways are needless and inefficient. While walking I notice the shrubs and plants of the university.

The greenery may be structured and organized, but the botanical display lacks the ferocity and life of nature. The forest of my past reminds me of the imitation this place attempts. All of this is a construct for convenience.

I reach a square building without windows. The dark gray stone embodies strength as iron bars reinforce the oaken wood doors at the entrance. I walk into a room full of cages. Animals of all kinds stand within the cages growling at the passing prey or cowering at our passing.

I arrive early in the class seeing different artificial golems of varying sizes. Deluge seethes with frenzy and resentment I have yet seen. I remind him of his overreaction dimming the unquenchable flame of hatred, but the fire remains colossal in size.

A man latches a gem onto a golem's chest as he bends the metal with metal instruments. I walk over and ask,

“What is this place?”

He responds understandingly without looking from his work, “You're new? Well this is the soul forge building. Here you will learn how to purify souls to create weapons or golems if you are truly talented. Why are you here so early?”

I reply while glancing around, “So I may learn what others know nothing of. What does purifying entail?”

The man with auburn hair and circular glasses sets his tools down then glances up at me, “Souls of animals are incredibly unstable. They have their own carnal desires and wishes that are difficult to deal with, so we simply wring these problems out using a variety of methods.”

Deluge’s simmering reaches a boil as I ask distractedly, “Can you show me a completed golem?”

The man smiles with white teeth contrasting his tan complexion then says, “Ah. So you are curious of golems young one? Then I shall satiate your desire. This way.”

We walk towards the back of the room were a golem eight feet tall leans against the wall. The material of the golem's body glows with a celestial ambiance, but a corrupt and oppressive atmosphere melds with the peace of the golems existence.

The golem’s rock structure holds thousands of faucets that the light glow reflects from creating a black and white intermingling of dots appearing like a starry night sky.The links between the joints of the entity appear like square jagged cliffs constituted from a dark gray metal that lusters white when reflecting light.

The professor speaks while enjoying my staring at the golem in rapture, “You see the beauty of this creation. This is the first golem.”

He pauses then says forebodingly, “Long ago a cult worshiped within a forest of trees that all appeared the same. These trees grew with white leaves that shimmered in the sun and black wood that absorbs light. In the center of this forest of over ten thousand was a single tree over a thousand feet tall.”

He takes a breath before continuing, “This tree was the center of the cults worship. They bestowed many gifts towards it until a scientist of ancient and old soul crafting stumbled upon this cult and forest. He had a genius yet terrifying idea. ‘I will use the soul of this tree for labor!’”

He gestures upwards at the enormity of the idea, “Such a thing had never occurred before. He needed a construct of unimaginable durability to withstand the strain of the soul, so he harvested minerals and metals forgotten long ago. He used the cult as workers for the process as he convinced them the tree wanted a sacrifice of the materials.”

He shrugs while gesturing his hands outwards, “Of course these were merely lies for his ambition. Over many years he crafted the golem you see before you. He then used a ritual using the souls of the entire cult to bind the trees spirit into the golem shackling the spirit of the tree into the golem.”

He pauses dramatically then continues suddenly, “But he miscalculated the size of the tree’s soul. The tree was actually the entire forest as its roots grew more and more trees feeding the mother wood. Binding all of the soul required far more energy than he expected, so his very own soul was sucked into the ritual as the last bit of energy for the ritual.”

He opens his eyes wide while saying, “And so the spirit of the forest remains locked within the very first perfect golem. The spirits of the cultist protect the construct to this very day guarding their lord forever.” He finishes with a dramatic flair than a charming smile follows.

I reply in admiration, “What a myth and what a story teller. You really captivate with your tales.”

The man grins wider while saying, “I pride myself in my ability to tell stories though few appreciate the craft.”

Even Deluge delved in the story as the man told it. The story’s impact connects especially when the golem of the legend stares with lifeless eyes of red rubies before me. Deluge interrupts my thoughts, “The tale is real. The soul within this being rivals our own including the consolidated souls. The construct is merely blocked by the soul of the scientist.”

I reply in bewilderment, “So the soul is forever locked within its prison?”

Deluge responds sharply, “If no one can unseal the soul latching itself upon the construct. I could consolidate him freeing the tree, though his binding of the trees spirit to the golem is absolute.”

I contemplate. The golem will no doubt be powerful, and how it will act baffles me. I barely comprehend Deluge’s thoughts let alone the inner machinations of an ancient tree.

Curiosity also prods at my sides. Deluge offers a new perspective while being my only friend. A different perception isn't bad especially when the thing doesn't kill people.

I touch the pink stone clamped to the center of the golem’s chest then ask, “What is this gem?”

The professor marvels, “This is the largest piece of alexandrite ever seen or ever found. The golem’s spirit is hosted within it, and it is unmovable. The gem changes color in the sunlight to a dark purple from the glowing pink radiates when under artificial light.”

The professor then offers me a handshake, “My name is Daniel Alastair. That's professor Alastair to you though.” He finishes with a wink.

I grab his hand then say pleasantly, “I am Jack Donovan. Jack will do nicely though.”

We walk after the greeting towards the entrance room with the sounds of animals vibrating the air. Deluge’s anger quelled significantly after hearing the story. He merely sizzles rather than flaring his rage like before.

The crux of the matter remains problematic. His anger held value. This whole building contradicts his life’s goal completely.

This fortress of stone teaches how to strip what makes a soul unique then binding the soul to slavery while Deluge tries preserving each soul forever. I believe he only contains himself due to his blunder earlier. The outburst proved useful though messy.

Many classmates show their faces as the time for the class nears. I stand with the other students half a head taller than they. One student bumps into me falling down. I turn towards the student then offer my hand to help them get up. The student stands up by herself then moves away from me. Such a strange girl.

Alastair begins his lecture feeding the ravenous beast that is my curiosity.

The lecture of Alastair enraptures me. He speaks of the history of the soul altering shortly explaining the necessity of the knowledge before explaining the process then using real time examples elaborating on his previous words with concrete activities that apply the concepts.

Alastair immediately involves the class with his lecture making sure that no student feels foolish or ignorant. Instead, he would make the questioning student sound clever and thoughtful as was often the case with bright students.

The procedure smoothly transitions from one topic to another until the class abruptly ends an hour and a half later. The course astounds me. Learning usually presents boring and meaningless topics without purpose then expects you to memorize the terms.

I learned more in that one class than Geralt’s tutor taught in the three weeks before my going to the university. I will not miss a single lecture from Alastair.

I prepare myself for the rest of my day. I trot toward the gemchain building hoping for a solid training session before I end the day. I shake my head trying to focus as my mind starts slowing down. My day has already included so many events, but I must continue.

I may be exhausted from all that has happened already, but this is simply a single step in my life, and I have many miles to go before I sleep.