When Noriko has thrown her bag with the things we won't take with us into the water, sad to see it go, I'm sure, I call her back. I have more questions and I want to distract her. The book she threw into the river was one full of the numbers and she let me know she was learning from that book, but still she sent it away. I let her decide.
When she's close enough to see the life pictures, I point to the three earliest and ask her which one she came from. I'm not surprised when she goes sad. Still, she crouches down and points to the one of a child with parents. Then she draws, mother, father, boy, girl, making the girl smaller than the boy. She points to the girl. "Noriko."
I sigh to myself. That's rather what I'd guessed. She's the youngest child of a family, and has been stolen from them. Protected until that moment, she misses them, and wishes to return. I'm sad for her sake, but there is still nothing I can do, for all I wish to.
She points to the single man. "Izark?" I nod. I've not been at home with family for far longer than those years bracketed, but I don't tell her that. She isn't surprised either.
She looks at the pictures, then draws one more. Another planet and sun. She doesn't want to ask this question, but she does, needing to know. [Do you know how to send me home?] I can only shake my head. She isn't surprised, but is sorrowful, wishing to hear otherwise.
She pokes at "my" planet in various places, then asks it again. I can only answer in the negative again. I don't know anyone that knows how to send her home. Perhaps someone might have that kind of magic, but I'm not sure I'm willing to find out. If we ask that question, they'll ask why she's here and where she came from.
She has great knowledge from her world. I ask if anyone there would know. She shakes her head. She doesn't know how she came, and she knows of no one that would know how to send her. It worries me, that we can't know how and why this is happening to us. Who are you? Who is it that makes me have to live this destiny, that has brought Noriko here to live it? The question has plagued me since I learned what I was.
My question has made her even more sad and she erases the whole of what we've discussed. I approve. I don't need anyone finding this place to ask questions here. It's time to go. I put her things in my bag, and the food bag, and pick up the torch I'd set between rocks so we could talk. She follows me quietly as I head for the tunnel that will lead us up to the way out.
I have only gotten about four or five steps up when I hear a choking noise behind me, then scraping on the step. Has the food poisoned her? I turn quickly and Noriko has collapsed and is hanging onto the step in front of her as if to me when we first met. Her eyes aren't seeing and slowly a high sound begins to issue from her mouth. I call to her, trying to keep her present.
I'm sure that the final thing we asked each other was too much. She's been doing well, but like I must give in to the weakness when I have worked too hard, carried too much of the Sky Demon, she's been carrying the Teacher, and angry for the first half of it. Her own deep fear of being in this strange place has risen to the surface and taken control of her mind.
It's like the first time. She can't hear my words, it's so bad this time. I set my bag down and wrap my arm around her. I have to sit higher than her in this tunnel. It takes me a moment to find a place to wedge the torch so it doesn't fall down or go out, then I can hold her with both arms. She's shivering like a leaf in a storm. I try to muffle her cries in my shoulder and put her ear over my heart so she can hear that there's another living thing in this place with her. I'm grateful again that she tries to fix the noisy part first.
That was always hardest for me, to be so alone, with no one to help me understand what was happening to me, why it hurt so much. It was no comfort to know I was being turned into something horrible and evil. My own heart is fearful, and I'm trying to keep it calm. Is she that much like me? Is she also going to be turned into something she doesn't want, and that's what the Awakening will be, that takes me from myself?
I try to not believe it. She knows she's the Teacher, for all it embarrassed her the first time. The second time and after that, it was natural, as if the first time was the time she pushed too hard, and after that was the level she knows how to control. I want to save her from herself if she is like me. If I can't, I can't save me.
The more rational me has a hard time believing that by becoming even more of a teacher she can change me in that way. I might become more knowledgeable about the world, but that's not going to make me want to become destructive. That very thought makes me want to laugh, although it's the laugh of the madman as much as anything.
I don't know anything any more, and even less having a Noriko in my arms as a weeping, frightened Awakening. I can only sigh and watch the wall next to us as I wait for her to come back to her senses again. I do wonder briefly how often I'll have to put up with this. It's so uncomfortable and we'll both be embarrassed again when it's over, even if it's necessary now to recovery.
Noriko finally turns her head so that she's hiding her face in my chest. She whispers a moan of great loss and sorrow, her hands gripping my jacket tightly as if to try to replace what she has lost with me. I'm very much not comfortable with that. I don't want to become hers, to become owned by what will make me evil, even if she isn't that now. Still, there's little I can do in the moment and she doesn't know.
She's still gasping for air, still shivering, so I wait longer. She is trying hard to calm down, to have her mind her own again. I also understand this, the fight to not let it take control.
When Noriko can finally look at me, it's up through her eyelashes, not directly. I have to fight the sudden thought that it's a very fetching look. She's embarrassed and apologizes again, thanking me again for my patience and presence.
Because I understand, I can only sigh and put my hand on her head and say, "You're welcome." She pries her fingers open and lets me go, trying hard to not let the tears continue. Moving forward now is best for both of us. I rise to my feet and gather up my things again, then reach out my hand for her. "Come, Noriko."
She reaches up a shaking hand and takes my hand tightly. She lets me pull her up and help her up the next step, then the next, until she's moved enough to be able to let go and take those steps on her own. I can't help but be sadly proud of her. It is hard to walk forward into the face of that fear. She has a quiet courage, for all she has the fear.
Later, I wonder if that means that I also have that same kind of courage. I'm also still walking forward each day, each moment, even knowing what they say I am. My heart clenches and my mind rejects it, but I'm again changed slightly, a different part of me relaxing just a little, relieved to have the thought that I also have some small courage. It makes me want to keep fighting my destiny, but not in anger. In hope.
These little changes. They aren't evil changes. Can I have hope?
-o-o-o-
I'm more frustrated than I've been in a very long time. Noriko is plenty intelligent enough to understand that we must walk down the mountain, and we can only go by the path the mountain itself gives us. But she is even more in a panic that at the Sea of Trees. Frozen to the ground, pleading with me to change the mountain itself if she is going to go down. I can do great things, but fly with wings is not one of them, or I would snatch her up and do so. She must come down the mountain path with me, even as small as it is.
I try to not yell, try to not let my anger get loose. It is a narrow path in many places. I'm just not pleased her mind has calculated that it's an impossible path for her and refuses to learn otherwise. I close my eyes and try to think of alternatives.
She's intelligent. There isn't much food up here, but she could probably figure out how to live on her own. There aren't any enemies or monsters here, and it isn't likely at all that anyone would come here to find her. If she didn't survive, I wouldn't have to worry about becoming the Sky Demon, either. I initially thought we could both stay here it's so far from anyone's reach, but then I remembered the first lecture. That wouldn't be good.
Noriko refuses one more call, and I'm too angry. She covers her face with her hands, unwilling to look at what lies before us any longer. I turn away to leave her in this place and I'm hit with a sudden flash of fear, a panic from outside myself. Like I can't kill Noriko, I can't leave her behind.
I'm so full of emotions I can't tell which one is driving that fear, or if it's any of them. If it really is from without myself, I'm too afraid to face what it is that would make it so I can't leave her behind. I have to be able to leave her behind if I don't want to become what she's supposed to make me into.
As I try to stare that inability in the face, I can't even do that and my own mind shuts off. The next thing I am aware of, I'm helping Noriko turn to face the cliff as we both have to turn to edge along the narrowing path sideways. I have no idea how we came to be on the ledge, but I am holding her hand and we're moving forward.
I want to be afraid again. What am I doing? I've forced Noriko out onto the narrow ledge she's afraid of. I'm making her walk it because we have to get down off the mountain. But why have I made her come? I was going to leave her, wasn't I?
All of my questions make me afraid. I force myself to stop thinking. They're dangerous questions when we need to be careful on our way down. Even I need to focus on one foot after the other in places like this. I'm paying attention to that, now, looking where we are going.
That works fine for a little while, then there's something wrong. Did I do that? I wanted to know if Noriko was doing okay. Did I just instinctively make the wind come towards me from her?
I turn to look at her and the look on her face that is farther back from the cliff face than it should be is calm - terrified, but calm - and resigned. I try to pull her back, try to get the wind to push her back towards proper balance, and she's only turned farther out. Don't let go. Whatever you do, don't let go. It's like the wind is whispering it to me, the same wind that betrayed our careful walk along the cliff face.
As Noriko begins to fall, I look to see what's below us. Jagged peaks rise up below us some distance down. Farther down, much farther down, are the tops of trees that make up woods that span out from the cliff face. What's below them is unknowable.
I can only take one deep breath myself, then do my best. If we're both destined to die here, then so be it. That would be better than the alternative. That assumes I'll die, of course. I might just be in a lot of pain for a long time. I'm trying to not believe I've done it subconsciously to kill her.
One thing at a time. I pull her close to me as I'm also now falling. I hold her close to me again and with a turn get us uprighted instead of upside down. The cliff face is sloped just enough that my feet land on the face. I put an energy shield under my feet and skid down on that. I can feel the rock tearing at me, regardless. We're moving too fast.
The jagged rocks are next. I calculate for timing and speed, then push off the cliff face as hard as I can. We're once again sailing out over the land in the air. I'm grateful we got enough clearance to pass over the rocks. Being impaled alive forever isn't my idea of an alternative to becoming the Sky Demon. I'd likely destroy the mountain to get rid of that painful boredom. I breathe deeply, preparing myself for the next thing.
I turn us again, so that my back is towards the ground. Our speed is still too fast. If I land on top of Noriko, I'll kill her. If she lands on me, perhaps she'll survive. Plus, it's my energy that will protect us from the trees. I have that shield up before we hit the first trees.
Crack! Snap! The branches break below us faster than I can hear almost. I close my eyes. I have no idea what's below us and can't turn to look. I can only focus on my shield, and extend it as far as I can so that it can slow our final descent.
I feel it begin to collapse and take in one more deep breath and hold it. As I expected, Noriko still lands rather heavily on me and expels the breath from my lungs rather forcefully. I hold still long enough for my bruised ribs to heal. The shield below us was sufficient, and the thing we're lying on is soft, and large enough to cradle my length. We are fortunate. I really can't fathom why I'm doing this, why these things keep happening to me since I came hunting the Awakening. Am I cursed just for thinking I could escape my destiny?
Noriko isn't moving, and her breath is shallow. I can't tell if she is okay from this position or not. "Noriko. Noriko." I call her urgently, trying to get her to wake up. She doesn't move, so I push on her shoulders to lift her. Her eyes snap open and then she's gasping in a rush of air. She shakes her head, then a great shiver takes over her as if her spirit is just re-entering her body. She seems relieved she is okay, then her eyes go wide.
When her position gets through to her brain, she is gasping and moving off of me to kneel next to me. I'm relieved she's finally awake again and move to push up and see where we are. She's suddenly pushing me back down. I'm not sure how to take that. She's talking very fast again, and is desperate, whatever she's saying. In all of that she has to teach me one more new word. "[Ow.]" Then she carefully walks down my body from neck down. Every bone and organ, asking if anything at all hurts, checking with her own hands.
To keep her calm just enough, I'm obedient, but the farther down she moves, the more uncomfortable I get, and the more irritated. As soon as she lets go of my torso and moves to my hip, I'm sitting up and holding her hands still. "Noriko, no [ow]. I'm fine. I can't die, and that kind of pain is healed quickly." I try to say it calmly to comfort her worry
It doesn't work this time. She whines my name, then rather dramatically disagrees with me. I sigh at her. I get that it was too far for anyone to fall down and live. It's because of what I am that we survived at all, but I can't explain that to her with our limited understanding of each other, and I don't want to besides.
Noriko is suddenly kneeling up, far too close to me, and leaning over my shoulder to look at my back. She runs her hand over my jacket and her breath catches again and she holds it this time. ...Until she's sitting on her knees again, her hands clenched and trembling in her lap. This time she really whines my name and the words pour forth again. The complete disbelief comes out in her voice and expression. It finally irritates me beyond my capacity to hold it in. If she can't believe what's in front of her eyes, what can I do?
Suddenly she isn't disbelieving. She's crying. Her voice now is apologetic and also lost, but the words are lost to her tears and I'm wishing only for quiet again. Once again she's too far gone to calm herself. I purse my lips, not really wanting to do this either, and pull her head to listen to my heart again. We really are alive and she needs to calm down.
I'm wondering if I should have let her fall, but that thought doesn't go very far before being squashed by the calm brought by the wind before, as she was falling. I don't want to have something outside myself influencing my emotions like that, but I can't do anything but accept it. We're both too distraught at this moment in time. Calm from anywhere is welcome.
When Noriko can finally be calm again enough for her talking to stop, I tell her one more time, "Noriko, no [ow]. We're alive, and we really are okay. Trust me." Her sobs begin to calm. Her hand is clenched in my jacket again as if to let me go is to let go of reality and living. My jacket front is quite soaked by this time, it being the third time today to soak up her tears. I think her other special power is the power to cry rivers of tears.
Once again, she apologizes and thanks me for not killing her - I mean for having patience with her tears. I put my hand on her head and tell her, "You're welcome," one more time. I can't help the outward sigh this time as I move to leave this moss covered rock we landed on. I'm glad it was thick moss.
I'm pretty sure she won't be able to walk forward on her own after that similar outburst to before. I hold out my hand and call to her and she takes my hand and comes down from the rock. She holds on to my hand tightly for a moment, then lets go. She's not okay, but it's better this time, that she can walk the next step without help. Perhaps she's growing a little bit stronger herself, now. I wonder if that's good or bad for me.
