Trash: Chapter 147 Family Portraits (Patreon)

<<<<Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience and understanding during this trying time for me. I should be able to get through my backlog of thoughts and ideas today. Hope you enjoy, and thank you. >>>>Chapter 147

Family Portraits

Just entering the building, allowed my newly awakened affinity for the earth beneath my feet to thrum to life, telling me of all the secrets that were going on around me. Just as with people that have been around for a while, this building had layers to it, hidden depths. I could literally feel a base marble floor that likely served as the original flooring for this place, which was likely a museum of some kind, at least that is the feel that this place exuded. Then it was converted at least twice more, before the opulent white floors beneath my feet were ultimately placed.

I could see faint outline marks on the walls where the pictures on display now hung, showing that there were other larger frames that had bled their way into the very fabric of these walls. Now on the walls, were massive ornate frames with gold inlays depicting magical effects that I assume were meant to add to the majesty of each portrait. In the portraits were depictions of conflicts going on in the background, while healers were applying their craft, symbolized by swirling green mists of light entering dramatized leaders. Oddly enough, the leader being saved were often clear, while the healer that was the focal point of each painting often had their faces slightly misted, or seemingly just out of focus.  Seeing my staring at the portraits, our guide, Healer Candidate Zabal, chose that moment to interject.

“It is said that every great leader was saved at least once by an even greater healer,” Zabal stated, a note of pride filling his voice as she pointed out the picture. “In fact, every founding leader who has been granted lands to protect has had to be in the battlefield, meaning that they had to at one point be saved by us, the healers.”

As Zabal spoke, I could feel that this was more than a history lesson for him. That based on his level of almost zealotry to the cause, that he came across as a fanatic. Still, his enthusiasm did make this a bit easier to get engaged with everything happening around me.

“That is why the first thing that every true leader does, is have a portrait made depicting their interactions with one of the seven major healing bloodlines. This both solidifies their time in service but shows that they are ordained by the Gods. For it was the Gods who put the healers here, and the fact that the healer found them in such a state, meant their time to pass was not then.”

Again, it was a sort of history lesson, but this one didn’t feel like I was being lectured. Instead, it felt more like was hearing about my own lineage and legacy. Looking around, I could see that the most recent portraits all had one main person. Either they were the most unlucky fighter alive, or they were trying to glamorize their time on the field. Seeing that I was bouncing between pictures that all depicted the same person, just at different phases in their life, Zabal saved me.

“Yes, as you can see, part of the fame also comes from not just being healed by one of the sacred bloodlines, but how many different bloodlines you were also healed by. Here is Prime Minister Alfred Von’Drachen, as you can see, he is prolific with interacting with the seven major bloodlines. In fact, he now owns the record for most confirmed portraits with the great healer bloodlines. Having served and been healed by five of the seven major bloodlines. In fact—” Zabal began as he hurriedly dragged us a few sections away to show an alcove filled with dozens and dozens of paintings and portraits stacked to the ceiling.

“Here is your family’s section,” Zabal claimed excitedly, as he revealed columns upon columns of paintings and portraits of people all being healed by a golden-haired female that often seemed to be sporting some type of halo or greenish-blue wings effect in addition to her healing. While I wasn’t certain with the first image, the portrait provided by Prime Minister Alfred Von’Drachen all but confirmed the healer being depicted in the paintings.

“Wait, that’s my Master?” I find myself asking, as if to confirm my thoughts. While I know she was on the battlefield a lot in her youth, it seemed that I had been underestimating just how old the surprisingly young in appearance, Madame Bloom actually was.

“Yes, it is said that every current leader has at least one portrait done, commemorating the time with General Anastasia Bloom swooped in, and saved a battle that was going to end poorly otherwise.” Zabal paused for a moment, before continuing in a slightly more secretive tone, “in fact, it was stories about General Bloom’s exploits that made me apply to be a healer myself.”

With this new information, I began looking at not just the portraits and their leaders, trying to link faces to the known leaders of the world. But I also noticed the way art would slowly change and transition over the years. Having one subject like Madame Bloom made it a lot easier to see the style changes and transitions. Some were super detailed down to the individual strands of hair being displayed. Others were more abstract, only depicting the leader of each country with perfect clarity. The transitions and forms of art were amazing to watch and dissect. At one point, the artistic rage was adding geometric shapes and straight lines to break apart the background. A sort of Picasso meets a perfectionist, for even with the lines and breaks, those only served to focus one’s eye back on the leader being saved. And again, every leader being saved was perfectly portrayed. Honestly, I was impressed with many of the styles, for they seemed to server their purpose, portraying that a great moment was happening around them, while making it so the leader being depicted was always front and center. From a marketing perspective it was genius, especially if the goal was to have a leader’s face get exposed to the public.

“Going to say, that as a Bloom, you have a lot to live up to,” Zabal stated a note of reverence in his voice as she looked over the paintings as well. Though it was clear that he looked for the abstract piece that was in the background of each picture.

“Actually, I am just a foster to Madame Bloom,” I admit, trying to cut off any false associations before they start. It is clear that Zabal has a sort of awe and reverence for my Master, which would only make this weird.

“You are?” Zabal asked.

“Yes, it’s a long story, but am actually a DiVoratore,” I clarify.

“A DIVORATORE?” Zabal declares loudly, shock and fear filling his face in equal measure. Then I can see the moment when his eyes dance over my hair and eyes and truly takes in my appearance. That is when I see something click into place, as recognition of my words fills him, as he drops his head in slight embarrassment. However, the damage has been done as everyone else that was around minding their own business stops and begins staring at me. That’s when I feel the deep penetrating gazes of many people not just looking at me, but through me as well. In a way, I am glad Madame Bloom and the others of her team got me used to the deeply unsettling sensation of someone peering into you to view your status screen, otherwise I would likely lose my composure. Instead, keeping my composure, I continued.

“Yes, could you show me the DiVoratore wall?” I ask, wondering what my body’s ancestors might have done in the past. There is a look of shock, but finally recognition takes over, as Zabal regains his composure, even looking a bit startled at her outburst, but quickly adjusts.

“Right this way.”

At that, Zabal walks past me, through my team and begins leading us back the way we came, to the other wing in the entry way. Over in this section, one could see that there were still statues, a globe of the world, and various other art pieces that seemed too valuable to discard but had no place to display in the main wing, which is why they all seemed to be crammed here.

“Wait!” I shout, seeing the marble globe of the world and pause, walking over to it with awe and reverence. I stop, as I’ve seen that globe before. Well, not this globe exactly as I doubt I have seen something quite so beautiful and intricate carved from marble before, at least not this close. But each step closer causes my heart to beat louder in my ears, as I realize it is true. Going closer, I look and see that this globe, like the ones of my past life, has seven continents displayed. Antarctica, the Americas, Australia, Africa, Europe, and Asia.

“Yes, this is a globe of the world,” Zabal says, his tone shifting from the overly cordial tone he had when he was first assigned to me. Now he seems to have a more mocking tone to his words, a thought that is emphasized by his next statement, “hard to believe it isn’t flat, right?”

There it is, that mocking tone that lets me know he no longer wishes to be friends, now that he knows I am a DiVoratore. Especially as he all but insinuates that I must be one of those flat Earthers. When really, I am just surprised that this globe depicts my world, exactly as I remember it. Given the level of detail, there are no country borders or old territory lines depicted, but it does show the world. Which means?

Actually, I don’t know what it means. Did I get reincarnated in the future? Did I somehow find myself in a parallel universe? I don’t know, but I do know that this makes things a bit easier for me, and helps to explain why things seemed so close to my past life’s history lessons, but not quite perfect. Either scenario would apply, either drift due to history being forgotten or molded as time goes on to meet a new narrative being depicted to the public, or completely new world with magic. Honestly, either seem plausible, there are likely other scenarios that I am not factoring in at the moment, but if there are others, then I am not aware of them currently.

Looking at the globe, I see a small white crafted tower placed over part of Europe.

“This is where we are currently, the center of the world,” Zabal declares proudly. Pointing to a spot that is barely near the center of the European continent, let alone the world. Now that the veil of deference is off, I feel that I am now seeing the real Zabal, as he has completely switched his posture. “Do you know what they used to call this land in the old tongue?”

Seeing the spot on the map and having had a relatively good understanding of geography from my past life, I see the spot and realize it is right near, “Switzerland.”

At my comment, the look of superiority that Zabal had been showing a moment ago drops as he looks at me coldly. Then finally an excuse for my odd factoid comes to her mind, “it seems you learned something from your Master after all.”

With that, the lesson was seemingly over, as he called out, “come this way.”

We went a few dozen more steps, before turning right and entering the alcove designated for the DiVoratore family. Only to enter and find that a total of seven paintings were on display, depicting a large muscular man wielding a great club like sword to protect a perfectly centered leader, while a wave of monsters charged forward in the background.

I will say that while the style was old and the paint had faded over time, the impact of the painting was real. Seeing that man’s broad back, facing the enemy while a wave of healing energy rolled from him, and healed the alleged leader, it was clear that this was an epic battle. One that likely made it into the history books somewhere, and this leader wanted to show that he was both there and healed by a DiVoratore.

“General DiVoratore, the last recognized healer from your bloodline. Said to wield his famous blunted sword against the hordes of the undead,” Zabal quotes the stories that he has been forced to apparently memorize but then pauses as he looks down at my side and sees the sword strapped to my side. Then another look of recognition fills her eyes as she then adds, “it was said that he was the one who truly trained General Bloom to live up to her full potential. In her memoires, she even noted that she would not be the healer she was today without the patience and guidance of this once great figure.”

As Zabal speaks, I can see a subtle shift take over, as he seems to debate whether he was too harsh with me. However, I am focused on something far more important that I just learned from this interaction with Zabal.

“Wait, Madame Bloom has a memoir?” I blurt out, fully intending to get my hands on this for any sources of dirt I can find and use against her. At my question and apparent enthusiasm for all forms of gossip, Zabal who had been contemplating if he would mentally recategorize his definition of me suddenly stopped and just glared.

“Right,” was his one-word response that doesn’t truly answer my question but puts a damper on my emotional state. “If you will come this way, we still need to register you as a Healer Class Candidate. You will need to identify as a DiVoratore Bloodline holder, despite having General Anastasia Bloom as your guarantor.”

As he speaks, I nod. Then once again Zabal walks through my group of members, Luna, Lucia, Junior, and now Lelia. Though looking at them, I pause realizing that they have been completely quiet this whole time. Seeing them, my mind instantly registers that something is off, but I can’t quite explain why.

“This way!” Zabal demands, as if sensing that I am going to ask my team why they have been so quiet, or more likely the fact that Zabal feels he has already spent too much time on me.

“Right,” I respond, as I too walk through my group of silent party members and then go to apparently get registered.