Mage Tank-Chapter 230: Working Out the Kinks

I followed Etja’s directions and honed in on one of the deepest layers of Xim’s spiritual essence.

This level of soul diving was something I’d rarely done. My passive perception of the soul was more like a bird’s eye view, or seeing a city from a low-flying plane. I was aware of every building and street, but the character of the toy cars and ant-like people changed once I was ‘on the ground’.

I’d done something similar in small bursts when trying to read an enemy’s next move. That was still clinical and removed, however. The plane was swooping in for me to take a closer look at high speed.

Here, the plane had landed, I’d disembarked, driven to someone’s house, snuck in through the window, and wandered into their bedroom to find them having a private conversation with their mother about their cancer diagnosis.

It was uncomfortable.

“Now move through life lessons,” Etja said. Because of Reveal, she was fully aware of how I felt at that moment. She was a passenger to the experience, but every inch of my discomfort was exposed to her, which also made me uncomfortable. I tried not to let it turn into a feedback loop.

“Got it.”

“Look at the striations of the threads,” she continued. “You see how they have an organic flow where the memories form cute little knots and stuff?”

“Yeah,” I said. Knots was the best word to use, but these weren’t tangles or tight muscles, they were the metaphysical equivalent of Celtic knots. They gave off a sense of being intentional and even decorative in a way, although their purpose felt more functional than aesthetic.

They were–from what I could tell–points where experiences all coalesced into an important pillar of a person’s identity. The striations were disparate memories and influences across Xim’s childhood. The knot represented the influence of those events toward a specific attitude or belief Xim held, although that’s overly simplistic.

The knots also emitted threads that fed into other knots, a bias informing future personality formation. It was all slowly changing, with some knots gradually unraveling while others wound more tightly. Each of those changes had ripple effects that flowed into other areas–more threads snaking out, threads withering and withdrawing, important events dropping into the middle of it all and making a mess.

Looking at it from a microscopic level–like we were doing–it was organized chaos, but when viewed from afar, it was serene, with only the slightest motion.

“Look at the threads leading into those knots,” Etja continued. “You can see how they naturally flow inward. Like they were always meant to head in that direction, but also like the knots are pulling them in.”

“It’s kind of like an eddy in a river,” I said. “Since the soul is always flowing.”

“Yes! Now, I can’t point you any closer than that, because every time I try you just sit there and get all glassy-eyed.” She sat back and bit her lip. “Just… look at the threads. See how they’re arranged, and then look for something out of place.”

Despite the vague guidance, I was encouraged. I ran over Xim’s inner child with a fine-toothed comb, which is maybe a creepy way to say that, and I hunted for what Etja was talking about.

What I was seeing within Xim’s soul weren’t memories. I couldn’t peer into someone’s past and watch their life like a livestream. What I could glean was the emotional context of the threads, which gave me insight into what kind of experiences they represented.

If I spent enough time in an area, I could figure out how those emotions related to one another and intuit what different knots represented. Because we were within the ‘inner child’, these knots were sheltered from much of Xim’s adult life, so they wouldn’t really tell me what Xim was feeling right now, but could give me a lot of information about what informed her personality. This area wasn't isolated by any means, but many more threads flowed out from it than in.

One of the largest knots in this area radiated warmth and comfort, sustenance and care, love and respect. It wove itself deeply into Xim’s sense of femininity and personal strength, leading me to believe it was part of what made up her perception of her mother. They had a very good relationship, although the connection was not without some level of turmoil and discontent.

I followed threads leading out from Xim’s mom and into an area that evoked discipline, teaching, pain, acceptance, and growth. Some of the threads were alien, delivering emotions that I had no frame of reference for. I studied those for a while but decided they had more to do with Xim’s childhood being spent in the Third Layer than anything being out of place. I knew more than most about life in the Third, but I was hardly a native. Weird shit happened there. The fact that Xim’s psychology was as accessible as it was was more surprising than there being experiences I couldn’t relate to.

Eventually, I found what I thought Etja was trying to point out.

I was in an area that I was dubiously labeling ‘impulse control’. Xim had a wild streak, one that was much more pronounced when she was young. There were countless threads radiating from powerful influences in her childhood, tempering her desire to act first and think never. However, in the midst of gently arcing connections, a group of threads were swooping off at a sharper angle than the others.

When I tried to follow them, I couldn’t figure out where they went. They got lost in the noise, squirming out of sight like an avoidant gnat flitting out of my vision. I zoomed out and took a wider view, seeing the same thing coming in from other directions. I kept looking for their destination, unable to find it, and eventually realized I’d zoned out. I had no idea how long I’d been wandering around in Xim’s self-discipline, but I was suddenly exhausted.

I took note of the location, confident that I could find it again without much trouble if needed. I sat back and let out a long breath, rubbing at my temples. I was completely drained. Using my Sight this way was like lifting weights with a poorly conditioned muscle. I’d definitely gone too hard and was now having spiritual cramps.

“Wow,” I said. “I’ve got a lock on one.”

“Great!” said Etja. “Do you want to try for the next?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to even if I wanted. I need a minute. Maybe a day.” I stood up and stretched. “Did you get an idea of how many of those there are?”

“Like thirty or so,” said Etja. “I wasn’t trying to find them all, just figure out how to point them out.”

“Ah,” I said. “How long have we been doing this?”

[Six hours and twenty-seven minutes.]

I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Nuralie and Varrin were gone. Xim sat in lotus position, her body surrounded by a gentle glow that had an odd weight to it. The floor around her looked like it was flaking away to reveal something squirming underneath. I squinted at it, but whatever it was faded as Xim opened her eyes. She yawned and collapsed backward, rolling her hips into a spinal twist.

“I feel like you both know my secrets now,” she said with a grin.

“You could feel that?” I asked. She placed a hand on her thigh and leaned further into the twist until something popped. She let out a satisfied sigh and twisted in the opposite direction.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“How do I put it?” Xim said. “Whenever you’re really trying to look into my soul, I get a sense of your presence. Since I know you, it’s kind of comforting, but if a stranger did it I think it would freak me out a bit.”

“You think other people get that feeling?” I asked. “Are people aware that I’m sneaking peeks at their souls? I feel like that might piss someone off.”

“I’m probably a bad measuring stick,” she said. “I’m spiritually sensitive and know what to pay attention to, especially since you always tell me that you’re doing it beforehand. Maybe, though. That might be how Blech knew you were watching his projection back in the Delve.”

I thought back to the massive Davahn, Brae’ach, making my eyeballs explode from across the continent.

“Huh,” I grunted. My eyes watered at the memory. “Well, if finding one of these anomalies takes an entire afternoon and there are thirty or more of them in each of us, we’re looking at months worth of work, and that’s just to map them out. Then we actually need to do something about them.”

“Guess we’re not fixing this in a day,” said Xim as she stood. “Is it lunchtime? I’d like some lunch.”

“It’s always lunchtime in Closetland,” I said. “We’ll get some food and figure out what else we can be doing.”

*****

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

We spent the following weeks exploring our options. I rotated through the party, trying to ensure that I could spot the anomalies within each of our souls. Etja and I became much more efficient with our search, and my stamina for the task rose dramatically as I practiced. We were up to hunting down four anomalies per day.

I was surprised that no one in the party had a problem with me digging so deeply into their soul, but the crew was nothing if not self-confident. Plus, if they had anything to hide it wasn’t from me.

There were a few consequences from the activity, however. Namely, whatever social barriers still existed between us started to crumble further. Conversation began to stray into topics that might have never come up, had I not suddenly become intimately familiar with everyone’s preferences.

Some of these conversations were relevant. If someone was acting in a way that didn’t relate to what I experienced within their soul, then we knew it was due to manipulation. Some of the conversations were not relevant at all.

Some conversations were both.

“Varrin, do you still have the inexplicable hots for the Empress?” I asked. I’d just finished a soul dive that had taken me through the big guy’s intimate relationships. Littans were not included.

“I think that is an entirely unfair framing,” he said.

“That sounds like a ‘yes’,” said Xim.

Varrin shifted in his seat and frowned at Xim. “I have been considering my courtship, if that is what you mean.”

“How so?” asked Etja.

“There is much to consider when dealing with someone of such high station,” he said. “Even broaching the topic requires a certain degree of formality.”

“Are you making specific plans?” I asked.

“Plans? No. Some things are obvious. I would not call those plans, per se.”

“You really just used ‘per se’ in a sentence,” said Xim.

“Okay, what’s obvious when courting a Littan empress?” I asked.

“Well, of course, I first need to acquire ten Eschen blue lilies with stems that are precisely eight inches long, arranged in a bouquet with a crimson and sable ribbon.”

“Why?”

“Eschen lilies are a long-standing symbol of Littan fertility, with the blue variety being reserved for nobility, and there are ten Littan provinces. The ribbon's colors are the combination of our two houses.”

“Okay, but why eight inches?”

Varrin cleared his throat. “No reason you need concern yourself with.” I hesitated with my next question, and Varrin sat up straighter before saying, “I would like to invoke Xim’s ‘Fair Play’ rule.”

I let my head sink into my hands, regretting agreeing to Xim’s ‘rule’. Since I was exposing the intimate feelings of each person to everyone else in the party, it was only ‘fair’ that the rest of us reciprocated. That was the idea, at least. Things got weird when it came to ‘manufactured’ feelings like the one Varrin was experiencing towards the empress.

“Can you specify?” I asked. “Do you want us to talk about our feelings towards the empress, or do you want to know how long my lilies would be?”

“You act as though being attracted to a Littan is strange,” said Varrin. He gestured vaguely before crossing his arms. “Discuss.”

“I don’t think it’s strange, I think it’s strange for you,” I said. “I’m not here to judge anyone’s attractions, just trying to pinpoint what parts of us have been affected.”

“You’re deflecting,” said Xim. “The implication you’re making is that Varrin normally doesn’t feel any sexual desire towards Littans. The fair play would be discussing the presence–or lack–of our own attraction towards Littans.” She glanced at Varrin, who nodded. “I’ll go first. The empress is hot but I think that’s mental fuckery because I’m usually not into women. However, I have had more than one ‘impure’ thought about Tavio.”

“Tavio?” I said in disbelief. “Why Tavio?”

“First, have you seen that man’s chest?” she said. “I’ve never seen a Littan who’s so… well proportioned.”

“He has nice hands, too,” said Etja.

“Wait, you said you weren’t into the empress,” I said. “When we asked about you trying to take your shirt off.”

“I lied,” Xim said with a shrug.

“I also felt it,” said Nuralie. “But I have difficulty imagining other Littans in that way.” Pause. “Not because I think they are unattractive, but because of the oppression.”

“You didn’t do anything weird at the meeting,” I said.

“I was giving her the eyes,” said Nuralie.

“The eyes?”

“Yes.” Pause. “Like this.”

Nuralie looked at me. I couldn’t tell any difference from how she normally looked.

“I thought she was pretty,” said Etja. “But not like I wanted to do things with her.”

Everyone then turned to me. “Yeah, okay,” I said. “I wanted to talk about the food because we both seemed to like the same things and that’s an easy connection to make.”

“Is that how you normally seduce women?” asked Xim. “By talking about food?”

“I’m not much of a seductress. Seductor? I’m bad at flirting.” I waved it off. “Either way, I don’t think I’d be after any private encounters with a Littan, other than the empress.”

“Why not?” asked Etja.

“You know,” I said. “They are, uh… Their features diverge too significantly from being anatomically human.”

“That’s a problem for you?” asked Xim.

“It’s not for you?”

“Arlo, you’ve been to the village,” she said. “It would be weird if my tastes were limited to ‘anatomically’ human.”

“Okay, fair.”

“Where do you draw the line?” asked Etja. “They’re really similar to humans in most ways. It’s just that their faces are a little more mousy, I guess. Is that the problem?”

“I mean…”

“Do Geulons ‘diverge’ too much?” asked Nuralie, raising an eyeridge. “Humans don’t have scales.” Pause. “Or a tail.”

“No,” I said. I started to elaborate but felt like I was in dangerous waters.

“Does Xim being red bother you?” asked Etja.

“No. I also object to the use of the word ‘bother’. Littans don’t ‘bother’ me.”

“How many arms would be too many?” asked Etja.

“I haven’t encountered a specific number of arms that I would consider a theoretical dealbreaker.”

“Is this an Earth thing?” asked Xim. “Are people there really particular?”

I paused to consider. In Arzia, humans were in the minority. Being exposed to a variety of bipedal sentient races might predispose people to being more open with their tastes.

“Maybe.”

“Are you really being honest with yourself?” asked Etja. “I mean, what about Captain Pio? She’s really fit. You like muscles and stuff.”

My mind involuntarily flitted to a memory of a member of Pio’s team stripping naked and jumping into my hot spring.

“You did spend a lot of time with that book Umi-Doo gave you,” said Xim. “The section on humans wasn’t that long.”

“Anyway!” I said, holding up my hands. “Let’s assume my feelings on the matter are confused and just move on, please.”

“It seems that all of us were attracted to the empress,” said Varrin. “Despite what was claimed during our earlier discussion.”

“Feeling threatened?” asked Xim, waggling her eyebrows.

“I do not fear competition,” he said.

“Not with eight-inch lilies you don’t,” I muttered.

The next month was filled with similarly invasive conversations as we nailed down as much of the manipulation as we could.