Trash: Chapter 124 Familial Interactions (Patreon)

Chapter 124

Familial Interactions

There must be some sort of time warping effect that happens whenever you try to relax. This is something that I observed, only after I was given the rest of the day off.

By the time we got back to the carriage, we had meandered and disposed of over a dozen shadow stones. There were still many more, but it was clear from one glance that the overall gloom suffocating the park had lifted slightly. There was still a clear layer of gloom, but it seemed to be a few shades lighter.

I was also nowhere near as tired as I had been yesterday when going through just as many of the slimy screaming shadow stones. Part was that I might be used to the effort and intensity involved in such an undertaking, but the other part was that Mr. Yi more than carried his share of the effort.

The new process was quick and efficient, I would snatch, peel, and throw. Then just as the stone began to release its psychic scream, Mr. Yi would track the falling orb and slice through it cleanly with a golden infused blade strike. Often getting sliced in half before a full scream could be released. In fact, that was the game, the sooner Mr. Yi could strike, the better. Once I thought we had a dud, only to realize that Mr. Yi had just sliced the stone that quickly.

When we got out, Mr. Yi explained everything to Mr. Stevens. Actually, it seemed he went back to his normal stoic way of speaking, once we were away from the woods and he was visible to others. As his words to Mr. Stevens were as follows.

“Get the General, we have an investigation to carry out,” Mr. Yi noted, master of understatement. Mr. Stevens nodded, and was about to leave, but then Mr. Yi continued. “You go with him, you are relieved of your duties for the day.”

“Me?” I asked, suddenly confused.

“Yes, go home and rest, tomorrow is a big day,” Mr. Yi responded. Hearing Mr. Yi say that I shouldn’t be practicing seemed entirely out of the ordinary. I just stared at him for a second, trying to see exactly what he meant by big day. I knew it was to be a trial, but that was for Sal and the others right? Or was I missing something.

“He’s right dear, come on, I need to go back to the estate anyways,” Mr. Stevens called out from the front, and pulled a lever that caused the side-door to open. I gave one last glance at Mr. Yi and saw that he was now back to his professional demeanor. Realizing that I was not going to be exposed to his insights or tracking abilities any more, I reluctantly nodded and headed back.

Once we got back, Pierre was there to greet us, and immediately confiscate my practice sword.

“I’ll be taking this,” Pierre exclaimed as he firmly, but gently grabbed my sheathed blade from my side and expertly unhooked it, without even touching me. I wonder if that was a Skill, or if he was just naturally that agile? I didn’t see any signs of a Skill, making me wonder if it was just his overall grace that allowed him to move so seamlessly. Before I could protest, he had already removed the blade and began speaking, “you are under strict orders to rest, once you get back.”

“I need to get the General,” Mr. Stevens let out as he hopped down and ran inside the manor, but only after receiving a crisp nod from Pierre.

Seeing the act, Pierre had a range of emotions quickly cross his face before he turned back to me, my sword tucked gently under his right arm.

“I apologize, I would normally walk you in, but I need to wait here by the carriage while the general prepares herself.”

That was it, my time for freedom was over. My sword was apparently taken to prevent me from training in the back yards until exhaustion. Probably for the best, as I had been trying to internalize what Mr. Yi said earlier, about taking every moment to constantly try to improve myself. I know he meant that seals couldn’t help me grow, but ultimately practicing actions that didn’t help a direct Skill also seemed wasteful.

Going into my room, I was shocked to see that someone had been in there. Nothing had been moved, no one ransacked my stuff. My bed was still made from when I got up and left this morning. But there was a clear note of parchment placed on my dresser, right where my violin case would be. Seeing the note, and lack of a violin case, I instantly realized what was out of place.

Picking up the note, I realized this was apparently supposed to be one of those forced moments that encouraged rest.

Catarine,

I have a feeling that you will not rest, until all distractions have been removed.

As such, I have taken your violin, your sword, and hopefully any other distractions

You might find keeping you from a proper rest.

Enjoy your time.

-A.B.

“A.B.?” I questioned out loud, in the way a child might finally realize that their parents aren’t really named mom and dad, that they have real names that the rest of the world identifies them as.

Surprisingly, I just now realized that I don’t know what the ‘A’ in her name stands for. Abigail? Ariel? Annhilation? I don’t know, for some reason I just can’t picture her as having an ‘A’ name.

Still, I try to contain myself at the thought of being forced to rest. Lying down on my bed, I completely intend to rest and take a moment to care for myself.

That is the intention.

Yet, after a few minutes of lying down, I can feel my left foot twitching, as if I have suddenly developed restless leg syndrome.  Closing my eyes, I try to take advantage of meditation techniques of my past, where I needed to learn to sleep at a moment’s notice. Now it seems that I have developed much the same mindset and habits from my past life. Where just sitting down and resting feels like I am wasting my potential for doing something.

Once again, Mr. Yi’s profound words of trying to improve myself constantly come to mind. A start contrast to the now forced resting that Madame Bloom has all but forced upon me.

Finally, I decide, I will not be able to sleep. At which point I get up, go out of my room, look down the hallway to the grandfather clock, and see that approximately fifteen minutes have past. Frustrated I go back, rest again, this time actually getting to sleep. Or a state where I get drool to run down my cheek. Fortunately, a quick application of Trash removes any signs of my sleeping residue. At which point I get up and decide that it is in fact time to take a quick stroll before I finally call it a day.

Getting up, I glance again at the clock, expecting two or more hours to have passed, only to find that thirty minutes have gone by. Realizing what I will have to do, I go out and explore.

I move silently, as I can hear others gathered in the library, the exact place I had intended to go. Worse, they seem to be talking loudly there, making the idea of quietly reading a book out of the question, as I turn to make my escape, I hear a voice that even now sends chills down my spine.

“And just what do you think you are doing here?” Icky’s voice cries out from the library. Just hearing her condescending tone, a wave of revulsion rises in me, as I continue to go, pretending as if I had never heard her. Yet, I stop when I hear a second more timid voice respond.

“We-we are allowed to access the library,” the sweet sultry tone of a voice I would recognize anywhere, if only for how rare it is to hear her speak. Just hearing her speak, I feel a faint beating my chest, as I know that voice, the voice of Luna. For a second, I know she is strong enough to take care of herself and am about to let her deal with the situation on its own.

“Desert Wastes like you are a curse to any country who takes you in—” Icky says more, venom laced in every word. The same venom she had for me, which was fine, but this time my body moves on its own, as a rage builds inside me that I never expected.

The library room door slams open with a bang, as I charge in, my eyes scanning the fact that a gaggle of older bloom members, my adoptive mother included, are all within earshot of this conversation, but doing nothing. That fact, the fact that these elders would allow this type of hazing in their estate to an invited guest of Madame Bloom sparks an even deeper sense of anger and fire within me. Still, I try to keep a cool head.

“Shut it, bitch” I tried, I really, really tried. I tried to keep the fire within me to a low simmer, but I felt something erupt from within me, each step forward, I could feel fire popping as my feet seemed to form with the seal in my chest, letting me know I had somehow linked the three, my two feet with my heart. Giving me not only an inner fire, but strength to stand defiantly.

“What? What did you call me?” Icky cries out and turns back to the table of elders behind her as if looking for support. Seeing their gazes back, I can see that there was in fact some support from the elder women there. Women who were all older and seemed to clamor onto family hierarchy that meant nothing to me but should mean everything according to the looks on their faces. That’s when I realized this attack from Icky was not just her personal beliefs, but a well-planned attack, pitting a younger generation Bloom member against a perceived threat to the family. I saw it, and it made me instantly sick. Fortunately, I didn’t care about currying favor with any of those old crones at the table, feigning surprise.

“Look, I’m just calling it like I see it, if it barks like a bitch, and smells like a bitch, then it’s probably you—” I begin, then surprisingly our conversation takes a dramatically drastic turn.

***

(Markan)

“Don’t worry, I’ve found good hands for you, she might not be able to hear you like I can, but she will care. And quite frankly, I can’t ask for a more talented person who will find a way to care for you better than I do,” General Bloom said, her actions almost seeming to be crazy. The epitome of the old lady near her end who was quite literally talking to trees. Trees that glowed with holy power and who were used to make divine relics that warded off Death Eaters, but an eccentric old lady. However, nothing about the General screamed that she was old. Yet, it was clear that she was having issues.

The way she looked pained while walking here in Bloom Park. The way she always asked for black handkerchiefs to hide the blood that came up when she coughed. A silent dismal thing that you had to watch for, otherwise she would force herself to suffer in silence, so others wouldn’t feel her pain.

These trees, this park, it was both her sanctuary and a culmination of her life’s work. Trees that could literally resist the pull of the spirit realm and Death Eaters alike. The branches from these trees alone could fetch hundreds of gold coins each, but none were ever taken. Instead, it was fed back into the soil to make the next generation that much stronger. That was who the General was, not worried about this generation, but worried about the next and the one after that, making sure each was able to survive on their own.

“Now, it is good that we can talk again, but I must be going, I need to see the others before I am needed back home,” the General called out, taking a step away from the bark of the tree and heading to the next nearest tree, trying to see if there were reasons why some trees she could still talk to, and others she couldn’t.

“We will need to go back home?” Markan finally asked, knowing that the General was no longer distracted by her communing with nature.

“Eventually, but we will likely be an aftermath by the time we arrive,” the General commented.

“Wait, you think something will happen?” Markan asked, his mind already going over all of the different probabilities.

“Oh, I know something will happen. We force my Apprentice to fill every waking moment of the day with tasks for almost a week. Then suddenly give her time, and she will be forced to find a new way to entertain herself.”

“Wait, you know that means she will likely interact with not just her generation, but the other generations of Blooms as well?” Markan asked.

“Oh, I am almost counting on it,” The General declared and patted Markan gently on the shoulder, the way a loving grandmother might when she wanted to encourage her grandchild for thinking about the cause-and-effect relationship of life.

“Then what?” Markan asked, wondering if the General had finally lost herself to her psychosis. She had seemed erratic of late, and talking to trees was sadly the least of Markan’s worries for the old general.

“Then we get back to pick up the pieces,” the General responded.

“You aren’t worried about injuries? I mean, what if they fight?” Markan protested, imagining poor Catarine going against an entire generation of Blooms.

“No, she’ll heal them,” the General replied casually, then after pausing for a second she continued, “even if they annoy her, she should eventually heal them. If only to look better before the girl.”

“Girl? What girl?” Markan pressed, suddenly feeling like he was not keeping up with the senile old lady’s ramblings anymore.

“Gah, must I spell out every detail for you?” The General chided, but before Markan could reply to the General had already lunged forward and contacted the next tree. Where she seemed to relax and began talking to this tree just as warmly as she had the last.

“I can finally hear you again! I’ve missed you, old friend,” the General replied as a tear gently poured from her eye, as if meeting a long-lost friend after being separated for years. Which, if this was true, if she could once again speak to these trees, then it would be years. What could have caused such a change? Markan wondered to himself. Wondering how the General suddenly seemed to remember how to talk to trees. Then an even more ominous thought hit him, as he wondered just what type of mess would be waiting for him and the General once they got back home.“Hey, aren’t we supposed to be investigating a staged accident or something?” Markan finally found himself asking, only to be met with silence, as the General was in the middle of a deep conversation with the tree she was now touching.