Aimless Ascension

"Oh, thank you. You sure are a charmer."

I wasn't sure if I got the sarcasm in her tone as I was too focused on her face, not whatever she spouted.

"Thank you too," I said, staring blankly at her, "my mum raised me well."

The woman gave me a careful stare and clicked her tongue. Then she helped me to move to the other toilet, which was about a five-minute walk away. Also, by help, I meant she almost carried me, and it seemed to take no effort from her end.

With her touch being so gentle and soothing, I almost felt like I should let her do whatever she was planning with me.

Again, I didn't know if I was pulling from my other memories of her, as I wasn't so easily trusting a person in the first meeting. The memories of those days weren't vivid in my mind. Honestly, my mind wasn't in the state to make vivid memories in that hell.

We moved for a couple of minutes in silence which seemed to enlarge the moment. I held too much curiosity about her to keep silence.

"Hmm," I spouted whatever came to my head. "Are your pronouns Goddess?"

That brought a chuckle to her lips as she blinked at me. "Can you hope for a goddess to help someone to shit?"

I tilted my head, considering. "Maybe," I said, "if she is extra kind and the other party is a charmer."

She snorted. "You won't survive long if you are this naïve in this land," she said, her voice dry. "Think about every possible scheme that anyone could carry out. How it benefits them, how it affects you? The world isn't a wish-granting factory. There's always a scheme behind every little kindness you'll find in your path, so think carefully before you proceed."

I was about to reply to her words, but then I remembered. A frown crept into my brows. "Wait, that's from John Green," I said, "you're really from earth?"

The woman, who clearly had the aura of a literal goddess in sight, sighed. She didn't acknowledge or deny my words, though. "Consider the intent behind my words, not where it was taken from."

"Hmm," I hummed, "if you say so, miss goddess."

"Gosh, that's embarrassing." She flickered her finger on my forehead, probably not with her best effort, but it still hurt a lot. Even though my receptors were completely agitated with the pain from the lashes, I still could distinguish the little pain she inflicted.

Well, I wasn't in a fair state of mind to consider the implication behind all that.

"Stop calling me a goddess," she told me agitatedly, pointing at the collar on her neck. "You can see what this is clearly."

I stared at her solemn look and could only nod.

"I guess you haven't seen much of this world for you to be mistaken like this," she said with a sigh. "Qi, vital energy, Mana, Spirit, whatever you call it, has this effect on beings. People change for better or worse as they cultivate the primal energy of the universe. I changed too, for better and worse."

"Well, I'm completely sure you changed for the better," I couldn't help but say. Then the implication of her words woke me up. I stopped on the track, overwhelming her to stop as well. "You. . . you mean. . . you have the vital energy?"

"Sure," she said easily. "Everyone has it. Most in minuscule low quantities to take notice in their lifetime."

"But you're a slave," I said again.

"You are one too, but were you a slave a month ago?"

Meaning she wasn't always a slave like most people, but unlike most people, she cultivated vital energy. That explained how she was so strong, even though she looked pale and sickly.

Wait, didn't the slave collar restrict the transfer of vital energy?

"Your concern is valid," the woman answered, finding his dilemma through my face. "However, a slave collar can't restrain everything about a practitioner. As practitioners cultivate more energy, their body changes, and their bone structure goes through qualitative changes, making it more perfect. Other than leaving me prettier, it made me stronger, too."

"And the collar only restricts the flow of energy, not the physical force?" I put the two and two together, though wasn't completely sure.

"You are mostly right," she said, indicating something, but I knew too little to make out anything. "Anyway, didn't you have to unload? We are almost there."

Through the dim light, I could make out the way to the filthy latrine. Obviously, the pressure I was under was great, but I didn't just want to leave her company when she started to talk about vital energy so freely. She would probably leave, leaving to shit on his own.

And she was about to do exactly that.

"Wait," I heard myself say.

Saarya turned her head to look at me. Her face was soft and kind. "Yes?"

"What are the requirements to cultivate vital energy?"

Saarya wrinkled her nose, considering whether to answer or not. "There are exceptions, but mostly a healthy body and mind."

"Don't I have both of them?" I asked, sounding hopeful.

"Others could argue, but yes, you do have both of them," Saarya answered, and then pointed to the collar on my neck. "But you have to do something about that."

I bit my lips, remembering what Imani said about the collars. "Is there. . ." I asked, even though I knew inside all this was impossible. "Is there no other way around it?"

Her expression told it all. "I'm sorry, bard."

I didn't know if I had cried back then or not. I watched her leave, unmovingly on the spot she left me. I remained watching the darkness even after her silhouette was there no more.

"I must preserve," I said to myself. "I must remain strong."

After refreshing myself, I got back to my quarter. It took me some time to navigate in the dim light and through the pain, but I managed fine.

There were still a few hours left for the morning horn to wake me up. However, I couldn't hope for a peaceful sleep. Not when my back was burning in that familiar agony.

I laid on the stone bed on my front, humming some lonely tune in my mind.

For all that mattered, I wasn't sure if I had left the door locked. Obviously, there was nothing to steal from the room, but there were worse things that could happen. Honestly, I had no power left to lock the door.

"I'll do it later," I told myself. "Just need to be at peace for a moment."

But that later didn't come at all.

Not until someone came into my room. It hardly woke me up as the stranger was stealthy and silent like a house cat. For all that mattered, I wasn't even sure if I was dreaming or hallucinating.

Thankfully, the trespasser didn't seem to have any ill intent as they only came to sit near me and ruffled my hair, muttering some words, which should have been too hard for me to recognise or even remember.

"There's always a way, Gale," she said in a soft tone, caressing my hair. "Remember that."

For some time there was silence, and then she stroked my bloody back. It didn't hurt, though. She smiled at my oblivious, star-struck expression.

"I'm sorry," she said again, stroking my back gently. "Honesty, you are hardly worth the cost, but at least I can soothe your pain and heal your wound."

Then she drew the light. Faint golden light blossomed on her palm as she stroked my back. I felt spring blossom in my mind as warmth filled my back. Every part of me wanted to lose in this bliss.

However, I yelped out, struggling. "The palm, please."

I barely twitched from my spot, gesturing towards my left palm, but that was enough for her to understand what I meant.

She drew her palm and touched my left palm, our fingers entangling together as the light of healing transferred from her palm to mine.

Then her lips twitched as she drew back her palm abruptly. Now that I think about it, that probably had something to do with that spiral mark on my palm. But I was too weak and out of my mind to think about anything.

Saarya said nothing for some time, only inspected my palm quietly. Her eyes seemed to traverse through the ragged clothes and flesh to see what was wrong with it.

She drew light to my palm yet again as she healed what shouldn't be possible with the slave collar on her neck.

"Perhaps, I judged too early," she remarked silently. She clearly wasn't talking to me. "Perhaps there's still hope for you. But the cost is too much. . ."

Her eyes drifted to my face as I was laid on my cheek. She stroked my cheek gently, as if to wake me.

"This is a dream, Gale," she told me, rubbing my cheek, and cleaning away the drool from my lips. "Nothing of this is real. Nobody came to your quarter at night and healed you.

"Never hope for an angel to arrive at your doorstep to help you out of your misery. Never put your hopes on others and only then can you be free of this misery. Only then can you be freed. I promise you that, Gale.

"All this will remain like a fainting delusion in your mind, but remember, Gale. Remember to meditate, remember to find peace of mind in this insanity. Only then will you be free. Only then will you ever meet me."