Chapter 5: New World
He feels the moist mud against his clammy face and realizes that his bonds have been removed. For a moment Zelgadis doesn't want to move, he just wants to lie there in the dirt and die. It has been so long since he's felt this sorrow, felt lost, and without purpose, but here he is again, right back where he started. Did anything even change?
A cool breeze hits his face and he suppresses a shiver, he wants to get warm, more than he wants to die. He begins to crawl and dig his nails into the gritty earth beneath him. With each humiliating movement he vows for revenge. He prays for the strength and will to live through this vacant nightmare.
While crawling, Zelgadis briefly considers trying to stand and walk instead, but his thoughts are cut short when an unfamiliar smell enters his nostrils. Instead of a fresh moist dirt smell, he now becomes aware of an odorous stench suffocating him. Zelgadis stops and feels around the dirt for anything to give him a hint. While living with Rezo, Zelgadis learned the importance of relying on your other senses in order to survive. While Zelgadis only has smell, taste and touch at his disposal, the desperate man is determined to use these small favors. Moreover, he hopes that the stench is nothing more than cow dung. Sadly it is not, and his hand comes across something round, hard, and made of leather.
A shoe.
Zelgadis gazes up with unseeing eyes towards the person he knows is there. His face shows no emotion, merely a shadow of the turmoil he has just experienced.
Without warning the shoe he is touching shoves him roughly away and Zelgadis begins to crawl, reaching for his sword. But it isn't there.
He doesn't get far as he runs into another person who roughly kicks him in the stomach. Giving out a silent cry, Zelgadis crumples to the ground. Zelgadis realizes that there is more than just one man now, he is probably surrounded. No wonder the stench from earlier is so strong, but how many of them are there? By the smell, he can only guess that there are too many of them.
Pain slashes through him as fists, feet, and knees smash into him. His world becomes a chaotic darkness. It's times like this that he wishes for his old body, but that is in the past and there is no going back to it now. The jabs keep coming and coming and Zelgadis is nearly positive that he will pass out from it all. He lies still, in an attempt to not provoke his assailants further, hoping that they will lose interest. Eventually the invisible hands become less frequent and with one final kick and spit it all stops.
Twitching slightly, Zelgadis lies still as the sharp pain turns into a numbing throb. His jagged breathing begins to relax and Zelgadis is about to begin crawling again when something warm touches his hand. Reflexively, Zelgadis flinches and tries to sit up, backing away, but then two hands grasp his hand steadily. He stops and waits, staring forward at nothing, but what he hopes is something. For a moment it almost seems like he can see something, but his mind is only showing him what he longs to see. The smell of warm clay enters his nostril and he feels a slight film of grit on the hands holding his.
For a time, the small hands don't move, but surround him in comforting warmth. Zelgadis doesn't like being touched, he has had horrible experiences with touch, but he doesn't want the hands to go away. Right now it is one of the few things he has left.
Softly, the hand on top of his pats it gently before disappearing. Fighting off panic, Zelgadis reaches out for the kind hand, but swipes at thin air. Calming his initial shock, Zelgadis rationalizes that the pat on his hand was some kind of communication. Does he dare wait and hope that the kind hands will return? Well, Zelgadis isn't the same man he once was, so he nervously waits, in the middle of what he assumes is a dirty street.
What seems like an eternity to Zelgadis is only five minutes when the comforting small hands return.
Another hand, a bigger and clay warn hand slides underneath the smaller one and gently pats Zelgadis's hand. Perhaps the child brought his parent, Zelgadis rationalizes. Part of him wants to stubbornly get to his feet and walk away, but his body is battered and possibly bleeding. Such foolish persistence might only lead to his death, and so, with great humiliation, Zelgadis accepts the help of the larger man as he steadily raises Zelgadis to his feet and hoists one of his arms around his shoulder.
Zelgadis can feel the man's warm breath as he nearly carries Zelgadis somewhere. He can smell lunch on the man's breath and only then does he realize how hungry he is. How long has it been since he ate? Actually how long has it been period! Pain erupts in Zelgadis's side again as they walk along, but he tries not to let it show on his face. A small hand comfortingly pats his dangling hand as they continue to move forward.
Soon they reach a door and he can feel the small child wiz past him as the father says something. Zelgadis can feel the air going in and out of the man's mouth in a rhythm and assumes that the man is talking. Another form rushes towards him and lifts Zelgadis's other arm around them. This time it is a slender form with thinner arms. He also feels breasts as the person helps the man carry Zelgadis somewhere. Perhaps this woman is the child's mother, the man's wife.
Gently they lower Zelgadis onto something soft; a small bed, judging by the feel of a pillow and quilted sheet. He nearly bumps his head on a wooden head board and figures that it is the child's bed. After they carefully get him comfortable on the bed, they close the door and open a window near his head. He can feel the change of air moving around him. Without warning Zelgadis's rescuers proceed to remove his clothing, which startles Zelgadis. He hastily snaps into a sitting position as pain begins to erupt through his aching body. Foolishly he tries to get away, but the pain is too much and he sinks back onto the bed as his heart begins to pound. What is he so afraid of? The worst has already happened hasn't it? And then he feels the woman's hand gently touch his face, which is enough to calm him down. Zelgadis blushes and prays to whoever is in charge of the world to just swallow him up, but he remains alive and the kind people begin to dress his wounds.
As they dress some of his wounds he feels the door to the room open and a new form enters. A vibration like wood dragging on wood emits from under him. The new body that smells like damp cloth stops in front of him. The new person must be sitting on a chair. Two hands move over him and begin to apply a healing spell. The pain leaves his body and Zelgadis breathes a sigh of relief, closing his exhausted eyes. An aroma of soup entertains his senses as someone feeds him some broth. After he has his fill, Zelgadis attempts to turn towards his hosts and thank them but sleep over takes him as the magic using doctor administers a sleep spell. Cursing his weakness, Zelgadis falls into a dreamless sleep.
When he awakens, he feels the warm rays of sunlight from the window above him hit his body. The child is also there to greet him and clasps Zelgadis's right hand. Zelgadis suspects that this will become a ritual between the two new friends. Carefully, the child takes Zelgadis by the hand and gives him a robe to put on. Before long, the child is leading the patient out of the room and sits him at a table, where Zelgadis smells food.
At first Zelgadis doesn't really know what to do, he feels the meal in front of him and finds a fork. Judging by the feel and smell of the food it must be eggs and bacon. Zelgadis bows his head in thanks to whoever is there and begins to eat happily. After the meal Zelgadis is led outside by the child who sets him down on a bench. Carefully, Zelgadis reaches forward and feels a hand railing, with planks reaching down, stretched out in front of him. He must be on a porch in the front or back part of the family's home.
The child lets Zelgadis feel around the porch and waits for Zelgadis to get comfortable in the chair before reaching for his hand once more. This time the child puts Zelgadis's hand onto their face. Smiling softly, Zelgadis silently thanks the child and pats them on the head, mouthing 'thank you'. He gently feels the clothing and hair and deduces that it is a little girl, since she is wearing a dress. As his hands rest of her shoulders, he feels her happily jump up and down when a slender hand takes his shoulder. It must be the mother. The woman proceeds to let Zelgadis touch her face as well, giving Zelgadis a clearer idea of what these people look like.
Zelgadis has had experience with deaf and blind people before. When working with Rezo, it was quite common to meet such people. It is strange having the roles switched. Back then it was he who allowed the blind to touch his face. As he remembers the past, Zelgadis get's an idea. While working under Rezo, Zelgadis learned many languages, including sign language.
Daring to hope Zelgadis puts his right hand, palm towards himself, onto his mouth and moves his hand out, signing the word 'thank you'.
No response comes immediately, but eventually a gentle pat on his shoulder can be felt. Obviously these people don't understand him. If they had, the next step would have been to take his hands and start signing back. Zelgadis smiles solemnly and sits back into his seat, deciding that it is time to sort through this dilemma.
Nothing truly eventful happens that day, but Zelgadis has come to the decision that his best bet is to wait and hope he can communicate with someone. When he can, then he will have the opportunity to send word to Seyruun and get the help he needs. For now he must bite his tongue and graciously accept the help and kindness being offered to him by this family. His stubbornness is constantly nagging at his back, but logic and concern win out. Besides he feels utterly helpless at the moment.
The next day Zelgadis awakens to the warm sun and the little girl's hands dragging him out of bed. This time though, the father takes him to another part of their home, after breakfast. Immediately, Zelgadis notices the distinct smell of wet clay as the man sets him down on a low seat. Carefully, Zelgadis reaches forwards and realizes that he is sitting in front of a potter's wheel. He feels a lump of clay, a vessel of water, and a switch of sorts that makes the wheel spin. A hand rests on his shoulder gently and Zelgadis offers a small smile and slight nod in understanding.
He turns on the wheel and gets to work. Zelgadis has learned many skills, but throwing a pot isn't one he practices often. He prefers playing the guitar, but that doesn't mean he hasn't learned how to work with clay. Long story short, Rezo had many hobbies and dolls wasn't the only one. Someone had to make the Hellmasters jar after all. As the wheel turns Zelgadis tries to remember how to press his thumb and hand against the outside and inside of the clay at the same time. The challenging part is keeping your outside hand steady and strong against the fingers on the inside slowly pushing out. Push to much one direction and you make a hole. Too much the other way and the vessel becomes lopsided, eventually caving in on itself.
For the rest of the day Zelgadis attempts to make a pot, between meals, and successfully makes one complete cup by the end of the day. Using some left over clay he twists it and applies it to the cup, making a nice handle. Zelgadis may not be able to see it, but as far as he is concerned, it is perfect.
A few days pass like this and Zelgadis falls into a content routine. He gets better at making pots and the owner is thrilled. Zelgadis cannot hear the man's praise, but he can feel it every time the man claps him on the back, the man seems to be getting more and more excited. This encourages Zelgadis and he keeps going.
Never before has Zelgadis been so open or accepting of people's kindness, but there is freedom in not knowing the families identity. He doesn't have a reputation to uphold, there are preconceptions or obligations making him act like the cold heartless swordsman he usually is. Sure, Zelgadis is still unemotional and quiet, he's still Zelgadis. But now he has no choice but to be quiet.
Considering his current state Zelgadis is resigned to accept this as his new curse.
Author's Note: It is perhaps a bit of a stretch to believe that Zelgadis knows sign language and can work with clay, but I figure if Rezo could make a 'jar' than Zelgadis should be able to figure out how to throw a pot.
On the other hand, trying to write descriptions from a mute, deaf, and blind man's perspective is not only difficult, but scary. Personally, it makes me thankful. I hope, as the reader, you do not feel too lost, but lost enough to feel Zelgadis's pain.
And yes they have some electricity in the outer world, thanks for reading this Aeon!