067 - The Sleeping Forest

Kujata exhaled deeply, a light wind flowing from her mouth spread throughout the expanse. With it, every house and building fluttered, breaking into innumerable white petals, vanishing up into the sky. In a matter of seconds all that was left was the river and the endless plane of ash coloured grass.

"I have shown you what I can Magnus. You have seen the method in its entirety."

"But, what do I do? How do I put part of myself here?"

"Think - what did I do? I opened my hand, right? The apple, the seed; open your hand, clear your mind."

Magnus opened both his hands and held them up, turning them over. Empty. He thought for a moment, remembering every one of Kujata’s actions and brought his right hand to his chest, closing it tight.

Clear my mind . . one of the first things Kujata had taught him along with the stances and formation. A simple thing, she'd said - visualize a great big table. On the table are all the things that you've seen or heard, all the things that have accumulated in your day to day life, all the things that worry or frustrate, that take up space in your mind.

Now gently push them off with your hand, off the table. Magnus repeated the motion, seeing the table and clearing it again and again until there was nothing. Any thought or memory that appeared would be pushed off, until only the act of breathing and the clear table remained.

There is something in my hand.

The is . . . he unfurled his fingers. In the palm of his and were three seeds. The first tiny and white, the same shape as an apple seed apart from the colour. The second was a rust coloured acorn, and the third a golden sycamore seed.

All three seeds weighed incredibly heavy on his palm, felt far more real than his even his own hand. What now? They are seeds for trees . . I should plant them?

He knelt down by the river, digging a small hole and burying the seeds within. This is the right thing to do, but it is not enough. What comes next?

Magnus sat down beside the slow flowing black waters looking only at the mound of earth. As he sat there the Ether seemed to fade, as if the invisible sun were slowly setting. Kujata watched his actions intently, her body slowly fading with the light, until nothing remained in the Ether except for a single patch of light illuminating Magnus, the mound of dirt, and a fraction of the river.

Part of myself . . the seeds are already part of me, no? No . . they are the vessel, not the self. Not the self?

The self, she was clear. Make a place for your self. Me. The I. All Magnus Lund is. All the things that make me, well, me.

Those are?

Those are . . my memories, right? No . . my memories . . Kloster . . Rolf, Pa Lund . . my mother, my father . . why can't I see their faces? My father, working the iron in the smitty, his name . . his face . . pa . . ma . . Festus! For five years we trusted him! Five years of death, of watching brothers and friends die for a pointless cause! That . . that I wanted to be a giant . . was I mad? Were we all mad? No! They died with honour!

These last months . . from Kloster to the Vale and the Horn . . the people I met . . bloody Caj! If I see him again I'll . . I'll . . and Lars . . and his father . . big sis . . no, no, these are only the things that have happened, people I have known. I may have experienced, but those are not me.

My body? My arms, my legs, my skin, my bones . . those are me. The black skin beneath . . it has saved me again and again, a curse! The skin of my enemies . . the result of blasted experimentation! That, and the putrid yellow pus . . but Kujata taught me how to eat, how to keep it all at bay. This is my body . . but not my self, only a part of the whole.

My threads! The Vigour! The living threads, everyone has one - it is my life, my spirit, right? This is something that is mine and mine alone, If I send a thread into the seeds, they will surely grow!

A single red thread flew through the air from his fingertip into the mound of earth, he felt it touch the three seeds and instantly disintegrated.

Magnus coughed up a mouthful of blood, suddenly back within the cave. The candle was still lit in front of him, his chest ached, his eye sunk. What happened? I sent a thread of Vigour into the seeds and . . and it failed.

A thread of life has been destroyed. How many do I have? Celestials are infamous for having many threads, right? It was written in Hrang's Third Discourse - that is how they devour, the war . . the great war was . . . ahhh! No! Not me! Not I! Magnus!

It felt as if a wild fire burnt through his mind, exterminating countless memories and thoughts, a crashing wave of conflicting times, places, of his mind being slammed against a brick wall.

Breathe! Deep breaths! Relax, Magnus! Focus on the candle! Get back to the Ether!

His breathing ragged, the veins on his neck swollen and pulsating, Magnus focused on the flickering candle before him, sending his mind once more into the Ether.

Calm . . quiet . .

Magnus sat once more before the buried seeds, the world faded into an endless starless night.

My self. Me. She didn't say that . . she only said to put in part of myself . . the seeds came from me, right? What do seeds need to grow? Earth and water, they've got both. What did Kujata do? She made a coin appear, made it multiply into many coins and back into one.

Make the one many, make the many one . . The three seeds . . make them many . . hmmm. Split the earth? Divide it? Kujata's words rang through his mind; for a mind in possession of the self anything is possible in the Ether. A malleable world, right? Nothing is real here . . anything can be . .

In his mind Magnus formed an image of the three seeds, seeing himself open his hand and have them appear, and going through the motions of burying them once more. As soon as he did, a second mound appeared next to the first, a little ways away from the river.

Closing his eyes, he repeated the motions, imagining once more the seeds appearing and burying them in the earth. Again and again, until there were hundreds of mounds of earth, three identical seeds buried in each one.