Ch.72 – The End of the Trial
POV: Aradra
The third landscape was clearly a nocturnal world, not so much because the sky was black (since it was still red) but because the large sun dominating the landscape had shrunk in size, and its surface was cratered. With Aradra were her two copies: the adult one, who observed the landscape with disdain and a repressed, beastly ferocity, and the child version, clinging to the original Aradra's leg, partially hidden behind her.
Aradra looked around: she found herself in a place entirely unknown to her. She had no memory of ever being there, neither in her life on Tala up to that point nor during her brief existence on Earth. “Perhaps we are at the final stage?” she said aloud so the other two versions of herself could hear.
“I don't know, I don't remember this place,” murmured the child Aradra.
“Don't look at me. I only care that if we find something trying to kill us again, this time you let it,” the adult Aradra grumbled as she started walking off alone. “I see an old cabin over there, with smoke coming out of the chimney,” she said, raising a hand to point toward a cabin that stood at the end of a path made of silvery light and floating stones.
“Let's try to approach it. It doesn't seem like we can go anywhere else,” Aradra muttered, motioning for the child version of herself to follow. She even offered her a hand to walk together.
“Pfft…” The adult copy snorted, hunching her shoulders and kicking the grass as she walked ahead of the other two toward the cabin.
Compared to the other two worlds, Aradra found this one the most peaceful. She didn’t feel as needy to be ready to defend herself, and the sense of unease had lessened enough to convince her that she was nearing the end of her journey in this strange dimension, which must have been inside her mind. The path of silvery light glowed faintly as they passed, releasing particles of light that floated toward the sky like countless magical fireflies. The sky above the three Aradras’ heads shifted from crimson red to a muted orange, so that by the time they reached the door of the cabin, the world resembled a picturesque sunset.
‘I wonder which version of me I'll find inside this time,’ Aradra thought, placing her hand on the wooden door and pushing it open so she could enter what seemed to be a mountain hut.
Near the fireplace, sitting in a rocking chair, was a very old female figure. Her face was marked by the passage of time, and her heavy cloth garments made her look somewhat like an old witch. But the fact that her figure was in black and white, except for her golden (and reptile) eyes, was enough for Aradra to understand who this person was.
“So, you've arrived,” said the elderly Aradra, chuckling and coughing at the same time. “It seems your goal is near.” The old woman’s eyes focused on the original Aradra.
“So, is this the last part of this absurdity?” asked the adult Aradra. “If you know anything that can help this moralist reach ascension, you'd better speak now or get out of our sight!”
“Can you help my friend?” asked the child Aradra, clinging to the original’s leg. “I believe she needs it to get out of here…”
“Hmm…” The old Aradra stroked her chin. “Of course, I can. That’s why I’m here… just like you two.” She rose to her feet slowly, as if she had been waiting for the true Aradra to arrive for centuries.
Aradra nodded a few times, placed her hands on the child version's shoulders, gently pushed her back to free herself, and took a step closer to the old Aradra. “Very well, tell me what I must do to achieve ascension and leave here.”
“What must you do?” said the old Aradra, tilting her head toward her right shoulder. “I thought it was obvious!”
Aradra pursed her lips and slightly bowed her head. “Sorry, but I don’t understand…”
“Is it not clear??” The adult copy stepped in, pointing an accusatory finger at the elderly version. “She's messing with us! We're wasting time here while Velen dies abandoned like a stray dog, and our friends rot in a cell in the enemy's hands! We need more strength! More power!”
“Madam, if you don't know how to help my friend, maybe we should leave. She needs new power to defeat her bullies,” said the child Aradra softly.
“Aradra doesn't need more power. Power is not an answer, but a question,” the old Aradra said, clasping her hands behind her back and shaking her head in disapproval.
“Enough with the cryptic answers! Do you think we’ve come this far to listen to you spouting fortune cookie phrases??”
Aradra shifted her gaze from the child version of herself to the adult version, sighed, and slightly bowed her head again. “Please, if I don’t become stronger, there will be no chance for me. I need this power.”
“But to do that first you should be able to ask yourself the correct question,” the elderly Aradra replied.
The adult Aradra growled in fury and shoved the original aside to stand in front of the elderly copy. “Do you think I’ve fought all this way just to be mocked by you, old woman?? Power is an end in itself! There is no answer nor question—power accumulates for the sake of desiring more power!”
“Perhaps we should let it go,” the child copy whispered, taking a step back. “Maybe we just need to find another solution. You know the turtle always wins because its shell is harder than the teeth of those who want to eat it?” The child Aradra smiled encouragingly at her original version.
“I’m afraid at this rate you’ll never obtain the power you seek,” sighed the elderly Aradra in disappointment. “Such a shame, you were so close.”
“That’s enough! If you know how to achieve ascension and you won't tell us, then I’ll just have to force it out of you!” The adult Aradra raised her hand, her fingers transforming into long, magically hardened obsidian blades.
“No,” Aradra said to both the child and adult versions of herself. “We won't leave, and we won't get what I need through violence.” Aradra stepped closer, placing a hand on her adult copy's shoulder to pull her back and turn her toward herself. “Stop burning everything down; destroying it all won’t help anyone.”
“You’ve always been in my way…” the adult Aradra hissed, lifting her foot and kicking the original so hard she slammed against one of the cabin’s walls. “How do you think you made it this far alive?? Huh?? It was me! I kept going when we were abandoned at Sleepy Swamp! I killed the croconoid! I turned a fatal fall into a rough landing!”
“P-please, calm down…” the child Aradra stepped forward, raising her hands in surrender. “We… we’re not monsters, we’re human. Let’s forget about power, let’s forget about ascension! We can… we can solve this another way!”
“As if your lack of initiative hasn’t already gotten us nearly killed too many times! Now you want us to abandon the path of the strong, the path of those who really matter in this world!” the adult copy replied.
“Now I understand,” Aradra said, standing up. The three copies of her fell silent, watching her. “Power is the answer, not the question.” She took a deep breath. “And the question is: what is the purpose?”
“I see you’ve figured it out,” the elderly Aradra chuckled, clapping her hands slowly. “Congratulations, Aradra… now that you know what to do, go.”
A white light enveloped everything, forcing Aradra to squint as much as she could while feeling something happening to her body, as if something inside her had shattered and an immense reservoir of power was pouring into every fiber of her being.
“Woah! It actually worked!” She heard Lyndvrath’s voice trill cheerfully amidst the whirlwind of mystical energy. “Come on! It’s time for the final push!"