Chapter 30: Corruption

I whisper, “These were the souls of veery and wren? The songbirds my mother’s lullaby is based on have become...”

Deluge snarls, “Nothing. When they process their spirits, they break them till only hatred remains to increase the soul’s power.”

He growls as he continues, “They kill these creatures then torture them after death until these disgusting aversions are all that’s left. I cannot allow this any longer Jack. We must stop this madness.”

At the end of his words, one of the souls ushers a weak, grinding wail that pounds my ears with its excruciating torment. The mourning of the poor being oozes into me, and I understand its plight.

The bird’s soul retains no physical form, so the soul corrupts. The anguish of the being continues without end. It holds onto its previous mind with bone breaking effort, yet the slow collapse of its mind continues with inevitable certainty.

Shame and revulsion explode from my chest as Deluge shouts, “Do you see what your fellow humans will do for such a meager benefit? Do you understand who the true monsters are? There is only one creature who distorts so absolutely in this world.”

Every facet of my mind cringes at the act before me. My fellow man creates such torrents of suffering for summoning a pillar of stone. The pettiness bristles the hair on my skin while flushing my skin. I say,

“What can we do for these souls?”

Before I Deluge replies, a hand taps my physical shoulder, so I race to conscious lifting my head saying, “Whoa. Who’s there.”

A girlish giggle greets me from a pair of seductive lips. She pulls on my shoulder swiveling me around revealing the pale figure of Joan in gem chaining gear. Her helmet muddles her voice, but the cadence still comforts like roses and sun easing my shame.

As she comes into vision, her expression changes into a confused scowl. She mumbles, “You look...different.”

A wheezing cough escapes my throat as I turn my head against my elbow blocking the wet air. I rasp, “Some illness afflicts me, and the lack of sun changes my skin each day.”

She squints her eyes as she pokes my sternum saying, “Well you’ve become bigger, though I think that every time I see you.”

I grin, “Perhaps you've shrunk with each of our meetings instead.” I put my hand over her head, “You are rather short.”

She shoves me snickering, but she pushes herself back instead of me. As she stabilizes herself, she she says, “You're like a brick! What have you been eating?”

“Enough to feed a bear. Maybe two.”

She walks up pinching my belly through my shirt, but my skin resists her efforts like thick putty. She says, “This is the thickest fat I’ve ever felt.”

My face reddens as I reply, “That isn’t a sheath of fat.”

She smirks saying, “Oh really tough guy? Prove it.”

I lift my shirt exposing my stomach. I haven’t actually peered at myself since Deluge altered my figure, but the first difference would be the thick slabs of muscle on my abdomen. The other primary change would be the alteration in musculature.

Instead of a graceful six pack, a series of interlocking patches show an excessive number of muscles that cross and weave together like a basket’s fibers. If someone told me that I wasn’t a human, I couldn’t disagree.

My appearance bothered Joan far less than I as she places her fingertips on my muscles pushing inwards. Her fingers fail to sink even a single millimeter into my stomach, so she murmurs,

“What the hell? It's like I’m pushing against a rugged chunk of granite covered in sandy dough. No wonder you're tough as tree bark.”

She exhales a breath of hot breath on my stomach prickling the hairs across my skin and waving warmth across my body. I jump backwards as she giggles at me.

I scowl with false anger saying, “Thanks for teasing me.”

She raises an eyebrow saying, “You looked like you needed it after exposing yourself to such a young maiden.”

I squint my eyes while placing my hand on my forehead saying, “Where? Did she evaporate before I noticed her?”

She flicks my nose, but her finger bounces off my face. She winces in pain placing her thumb in her mouth. As she pouts, I grab her other hand with a gentle hold as I murmur, “Instead, I see a siren enthralling a lost sailor at sea.”

She blushes as I lean over her smirking and saying, “Not so fun being tempted is it?”

She replies with a shy grin, “Funner than you’d think.”

A guy shouts from the side of the resting room, “Could you please find somewhere else to fuck around?”

We both stare holes through him with menacing glares, so he falters as he says, “Uh, er. I meant I’m sorry for messing with you guys. Err girls. Uh, both. Shit...”

The guy sprints from the room picking up his case as he meanders out the doorway. Joan and I both burst into laughter at his flight. The air in the room lightens as she says,

“Alright, enough playing around. are you ready to train?”

“What kind?”

“You’ve obviously got yourself the body of a warrior, but you don’t have any of the techniques. I’ll be showing you some basic striking tips to tighten up your stance then we’ll move to drills.”

I nod my head saying, “Sounds superb.”

She lifts a finger as she says, “you are only allowed to train without equipment though since you broke the last piece you used.”

I shrug as she continues, “Let's go then.”

We enter the arena room as the faces of warriors look towards us. Several people grin while a few deepen their previous scowls. We garner far more of a reaction than I anticipate, but Joan treks onwards as though nothing happened.

I jog to catch up with her, but my stomping makes a deep sound that resonates to nearby areas. A few nearby combatants give me a confused glance, but I mimic Joan’s approach of ignoring them.

We reach an arena where she warms up using the same routine as Petra, so I copy her graceful movements. After 15 minutes of exertion she says as we face each other,

“Your fighting style relies on your brawn which isn’t terrible, but you need to refine your techniques so that you use your weight better. Get in your stance.”

I widen my feet leaving my hands at my sides while leaning over at a 60 degree angle. She walks up saying,

“Close your feet some. That will help you balance. Raise your arms. When they are so low, they have to travel much further to reach your opponent's vitals, and your neck’s unprotected as well.”

She pushes on my chest saying, “Straighten your back some. You’re crouching to much. There we go. Alright, throw a punch like normal, but this time keep your elbow tucked.”

I lunge forward and my arm flares outwards as throw my punch.

She says, “Your back’s too weak. If you keep your arms together, your force channels better.”

I nod my head as Deluge adjusts the muscles of my back. As I punch a second time, my arm trails right beside me drilling into the air in front of me. When I pull my arm back, my momentum lurches me forward throwing me off balance.

Joan says, “That's a first. That punch was decent, but you just couldn’t stay on the ground.”

I relax as I say, “It's like I have to smash something or else I’ll just fly, especially if I really applied my power.”

She raises an eyebrow saying, “Oh really? Then let's see it.”

“Uh, sure.”

After returning to my stance, I stomp with my back foot dashing myself forwards, but I stomp once more with my front foot jerking my momentum upwards. As the inertia reaches my waist, I torque with my abs funneling the force into my shoulders and into my hand as I jerk my fist outwards.

Once my arm stretches out, the heft of my punch pulls my entire body flinging me from the ground and lobbing me forward. The ceiling and floor gyrate in my vision as I fumble forward like a rag-doll. The side splitting laughter of Joan nudges my ears.

I scowl as I say in a jumbled heap, “Your assistance is appreciated.”

She jogs over bouncing off her toes while bobbing her lithe figure. She reaches out her hand towards me shrieking with laughter as she says, “Hahah, you really meant it. Haha.”

The laughter alters from a mild annoyance to spurring headache, so I snap, “Come on, this is supposed to be training.”

Her laughter dies down as she wipes a tear from her eye saying, “Alrighty then. Just try to stay on the floor next time.”

Her genuine smile melts my anger as I reply with a reluctant grin, “Then what's next oh mangler of men?”

She claps the edges of her face sobering herself before she says, “Alright. You learned that quickly, so let's get started on the drills.”

Over the next two hours, we fight our own shadows, practice dodging one another’s blows, and spar while utilizing only a single technique. As we spar, Joan tells me to focus on closing the distance between us while she focuses on maintaining hers. We also fight with lighter blows than before though my shoves send her flying regardless.

We both end up soaked in sweat, so we return to the resting room where we change our clothes and dry ourselves off. Whenever we both enter the main room again, her skin flushes from the residual heat, and she wears a fitted robe that contours to her curves.

The sight evokes my carnal impulses, but I cool my head reminding myself of my appointment later today. Joan says,

“I’ve actually needed some help with one of my classes. Would you mind coming with me to the library?”

I smile as I say, “I would love too though I doubt my own ability. I’m only a first year. Another farrrr less capable person requires my tutelage.”

She leans onto one of her hips while crossing her arms saying, “So who's taking priority here?”

My eyes close while my voice dampens as I say, “An imbecile named Antoinette.”

One of her eyebrows raise as she says, “So it's a girl then. Will you be with her alone?”

I cringe as I say, “Unfortunately, yes. I’m supposed to tutor her every second week, and I’ve already postponed the inevitable for too long. Speaking with her is like pulling a tooth. It hurts, but it must be done.”

As I insult Antoinette, Joan lifts herself from her guarded stance grinning. She says,

“Sounds awful. I guess I it can’t be helped then. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I say, “Would you like to move the date to another day? I would love to meet during the weekend if you have the free time of course.”

She places her finger on her chin as she glances upwards and sideways. After a moment she raises her sleek eyebrows saying,

“I suppose I can find the time. You’d best make it worth my while however.”

I bow with my hand over my chest as I say, “Then until we meet again my siren.”

As she turns walking away, her hips shift back and forth enticing my attention. Before she leaves, she waves her hand backwards saying, “Try not to get lost at sea then sailor.”

Once she closes the door, my knees wobble as I lean against a wall. She beckons my attention as each of her actions purges all other thoughts from my mind.

Deluge remains silent, so I probe for him finding his resting conscious. I smile as no witty insult mitigates my enthusiasm. A grand evening graces me, and for a moment, I soak in the simple joy like meat in a marinade before I move on.

As I leave the resting room, I pace across campus to the auditorium where Geralt’s contract assigned the tutoring session. Whenever I reach into the room, the broken doors show around two dozen students chatting with Antoinette. She sits in the middle.

Whenever I show myself, she looks around attempting to hide, but I shout, “Why in the hell are there so many students here?”

She ignores me, so I walk past several students who move aside as I reach her. They stand and sit in near eerie silence. As I walk up, I place my hands on my hips while shaking my head.

Antoinette shivers as she says, “You're bigger than I remember. Way bigger. What happened to you?”

I snap, “I’ve grown. Why are there so many people here?”

She looks around saying, “They all came here after I told my class that you’re tutoring me. Whenever I asked, they said they heard you and Joan singing, and they wanted to hear you play more.”

I gaze across the students by moving only my eyes rather than moving my head saying, “Any other reason?”

Antoinette says, “Well, several students spoke of your super good musical talent. I think that's why so many people are here.”

I lift my arms saying, “Alright, let’s just get this over with.”

A student pipes, “you're not going to make us leave?”

I move my hands outwards saying, “Of course not. This is public property, and I have no say in whether you can be here or not. What did you guys expect to happen?”

Several students look around murmuring before a girl with white streaks through her black hair says, “We thought you would beat us up if we didn’t leave.”

I say, “What do you believe of me? Hah, hah, I’m no oppressor of other’s actions.”

Her familiar voice and hair clicks in place as I continue, “You're the girl who eavesdropped on Joan and I, aren't you?”

She says, “Uh. Uhm. Yes.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration while closing my eyes as I say, “Why did speak of me and Joan’s duet?”

“Uh. We...uhm.”

I lower my hand saying, “Forget it.”

Walk around the students onto the stage gesturing for Antoinette. She writhes in discomfort as she walks up, so I say,

“You're the one who brought them here, so you shall pay heed to the consequences of your actions.”

She mumbles, “Can we not do this?”

“Your father will end his patronage if you show zero improvement before you two meet again. Do you remember the warmup exercises we did at Geralt’s house?”

“No.”

I stare downwards frozen by her stupidity. This shall become a struggle of legendary proportion. I walk up taking her violin with a restrained geniality. As I place the wood upon my shoulder, I find my grown fingers still respond well to my orders, so I string several notes together before I begin playing.

I go through each basic scale used for practicing basic violin notes and techniques. The tunes fly from my fingers with grace that surprises even me. My enlargement assists my play rather than destroying it. Before I continue sounding my expectations, deluge snaps,

“I’m no idiot. I wouldn’t destroy your ability to perform music.”

I grin as my play of the melodies evolves as I interweave the basic melodies, and I craft a merry tune. After several minutes, I remember my purpose, and I cease my play saying, “Enough of that. Antoinette,” she looks towards me before I continue, “Do you remember the scales now?”

She nods her head like a dog avoiding the anger of its master, so I sigh as she decimates the notes I played earlier. Before she embarrasses herself further, I say,

“Can someone lend me a violin? I need to keep her in tune, else she wanders wherever her hands take her.”

Several students offer their instruments in conjunction filling my vision with a variety of instruments. I pick one with a sleek finish and well proportioned body for my purposes. I string the instrument before I tune each of the notes to my liking.

So as Antoinette continues butchering her notes, I guide her back to the melody with my own steady set of scales and rhythm. Over the next thirty minutes, she still fails to improve, so I snap,

“What in the hell are you doing? Do you even play the violin?”

She whimpers, “I’m just nervous with so many people, and I just don’t want to do this anymore. Can we please stop”

I close my eyes grabbing my face as I say, “Alright. We’ll work on this another time. Please, work on your scales before we continue next time.”

“Uh. Sure.”

I hop down from the stage with a loud POOM sounding as I land. I set the violin on the stage before I pace off, but several students whine,

“Would you play like you did earlier?”

“You played pretty well. Can we hear more of that?”

“Don’t just leave us hanging man.”

As I cease my movements, I ponder for a moment with my hand on my jaw. Playing on an actual instrument will keep me limber between music classes, and scratching the musical itch I have doesn’t sound so bad. Surely I can afford some time for leisure.

I say, “I suppose I can play a song. Would anyone enjoy a duet?”

Several students chime up, and I choose an able looking senior out front. He smirks as he walks on stage. Arrogance leaks from his swagger and expression, but he will offer an excellent counterpoint to my own play. I’d rather play with someone arrogant than incompetent.

I pick up the violin I left on the stage saying, “You should set the melody. We shall play whatever you choose.”

His eyes come to life as he says, “Gladly.”

He begins playing an obscure and intense symphony by the composer Laridis, but I enfold the notes in my own dragging him from his strict play onto an unbeaten path.

With each string, we plunge deeper into the depths of our play. The wild and frantic symphony strains us both as each of us sweats under the exertion, yet we refuse to falter.

Each of our energies spur the other as we overtake and exceed our previous fervor until a tidal wave of sound surges from our violins each complementing the other without pause. The excitement and jubilation peaks as we reach a schism of melody.

With a compelling shift, I slow my rhythm until our harmonies oppose one another, yet instead of reducing the energy, my action invokes a tension that grows until we both snap to silence at the same moment.

The silence of the room roars even louder than our play until the students burst into clapping. We walk up together locking our arms over each other’s shoulders as we bow to our audience with the practiced ease of an experienced performer.

I shake my senior’s shoulder as I say, “Now that was music! It has been so long since I’ve played with someone so capable.”

He almost loses his balance from my shaking, but I steady him before he grins saying in a precise dialect, “Same here. Where did you learn your stuff?”

I release my grip clenching my fist as I say, “I learned from my mother and father.”

He nods saying, “They must have been great.”

I nod my head saying, “They were the best though we give them a run for their title. We must do this once more. What's your name?”

He says, “I’m Brian Donovan. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m Jack of the same surname.”

His grin broadens as he says, “Then we may be related. That would explain our complementary nature. Who are your parents?”

“Daniel and Jill Donovan.”

His eyes squint as he reels back frowning. He says, “Daniel? I thought he ran off with some singing whore.”

My heart pounds blood through my head and neck pulsing power through my body. My control collapses as my mind cracks. Wrath erupts from the ruptures. Deluge barrels against the control of my mind freezing me before I pulp his face against the stage.

Deluge shouts, “Will you abandon all that you’ve gained at a single utterance?”

I roar, “He mocks my mother. I’ll kill him.”

“Is there even a single fragment of truth in his words?”

I howl, “No. There is nothing but a void.”

He shouts, “Then fill that void with her light rather than your darkness. Show him that her legacy is one of peace rather than hatred. Don’t deface her ideal with your own anger. She would never wish for you to murder because of her name. Calm yourself, for her.”

His words crush my anger. My hands unclasp. My shoulders relax as I breath a lungful of air. I say to Brian,

“She was a warm sun. Her sound gave the blind sight, and her motions enraptured those around her. She painted colors with her words, and her mind snapped with clarity. Never speak of her again with such callous terms, else I lose myself in my fury.”

He looks around for a moment with his shoulders tensed before he says, “Uh. Yeah. My mistake. I didn’t know anything about her. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

I reach out a hand saying, “Then with your apology, I give my forgiveness and friendship.”

He grasps my hand with a weak, frail grip saying, “Yeah. Uh, good then.”

I release my grasp saying, “Then until we meet again. I’ve matters to attend to as I am sure we all do.” I turn towards the other students saying, “I hope your patience was rewarded here. Goodbye.”

I walk from the stage as the students chat with one another while Brian adjusts his cloak and hair. He rushes out of the room after fixing his appearance while fumbling his possessions.

His nervous gestures trouble my conscious, so I deliberate some method for the control of my emotions. Since Deluge altered me, my capacity for carnage increased tenfold. If I fail to contain myself, the blood of many may coat my hands, and I doubt my ability to rationalize such evil. The guilt will haunt me.

As I walk outside of the auditorium, the Jade colored bricks intermingle with black streaks. The stripes shift over the smooth stone emulating calligraphic letters. The thumping sound my steps create remind me of my need for self control. My strength weighs on me both literally and figuratively. A single lapse in my judgment may result in chaos and cataclysm for the innocent. I fear my lack of discipline.

The sun sets as I walk through the warm campus walkways. The heat and light of the lamps creates paths of living wildlife around me. Squirrels, no longer wary of humans, run nearby harvesting the nuts from trees. Birds sing on branches or lunge for the insects still roaming on the ground.

As I leave, hunger itches my sides, so I cross campus to my dorm where Luke strains over a book staring at equations as though facing down death itself.

Despite my struggling, a laugh escapes my lips. Luke looks up with his eyebrows raised as he says,

“You look bigger. You were already pretty big, but I mean, you really packed on some size.”

I raise my eyebrows as I reply, “I’m about to pack on some more. Would you enjoy going somewhere in town to eat? I've yet to visit any of their stores.”

He jumps up throwing the book against the wall shouting, “Hell yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”