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[Skill-Eater] Chapter 22: Memories
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 17:07:01 +0000 UTCTen minutes later, Edge found himself standing on the highest branch that would support his weight. A place out of sight from the animals prowling the ground below. While he was by no means safe up here, it was the closest that he was going to get.
After he got used to his perch, he cast his gaze into the distance, enjoying the last fading glory of a spectacular sunset. He ran his eyes across bands of crimson and gold merging into the canopy below his boots, which was rolling like waves on the ocean.
Then he began trying to figure out how to stretch out without falling out of the tree.
After looping his pack around a branch and wedging himself between three more, he was confident that he wouldn’t roll off. Edge put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, not sure if this was going to work. He was fast asleep only heartbeats later.
His eyes snapped back open when a powerful gust of wind slammed into the trunk, setting the treetop rocking and the branches creaking.
For a long, disorienting moment, he couldn’t remember where he was or how he’d gotten here. When he saw the ground stretching out far below his feet, he almost panicked. He nearly fell out of the tree before grabbing the nearest branch and holding on for dear life.
A few seconds later, everything came flooding back. He began to laugh, adrenaline stampeding through his bloodstream like a wild stallion. Thanks to his scare, Edge was too amped up to go back to sleep. So, he crawled out a bit further along the broad branch he was resting upon. A spot where he could peer through the canopy and look up at the stars.
The great silver moon hung full in the late summer sky, painting the surface of Ord in a thousand shades of silver and lead. It was surrounded by countless points of light, framed by ghostly nebule. It was a breathtaking display, cementing the awareness that Edge was far from Earth, a home that he might never see again.
His eyes traced the contours of foreign constellations, so different from those visible from the world of his birth. Everything was so crisp and clear, his senses sharper than ever before. In that moment, it felt like his old life was nothing but a waking dream, which he supposed wasn’t too far from the truth.
Edge wiped the sleep from the corners of his eyes, then set his gaze on the horizon. Judging by the color, it was only an hour or so before dawn. He wasn’t going to be able to pass out again in such an uncomfortable, treacherous location. At least I got enough shuteye to recover from my exhaustion. He decided to wait for sunrise from the relative safety of the treetops.
He watched the leaves ripple in the moonlight, wreathed by magic dancing in the air. He listened to hoots and cries all around him, as the creatures of Ord called out to each other. He looked to where the Guide’s Fingers were glowing in the distance, pointing the way to town.
Then, for a long while, he let his thoughts grow still and simply took it all in, savoring the thrill of danger in the air. Sometime later, his mind turned from the present to the past.
Edge had left his job and his family, his whole life behind him, when he’d purchased his puppet and sent his consciousness to Ord. Of course, he hadn’t expected it to be a one-way trip. But in that moment, he realized that despite the pain and hardship, the uncertain future ahead, he was having the time of his life.
Now that he had bound a core and could use the planet’s magic, he wouldn’t go home if he could. Even if he lost his life tomorrow, it was better than the alternative.
Back on Earth, his existence had been no more substantial than the memory of a dream. His only value had been providing a corporate AI with a face for its customers to complain to. One of the few jobs where a human touch was still valued.
Even in that most trivial of tasks, his presence was hollow. Edge’s every response, every word, had been scripted down to his tone and expression.
It was all a polite fiction. He knew that he was fooling no one. Helping no one. Changing nothing and leaving nothing of value behind as he moved through the world. He had no friends, few relations, and Edge doubted that anyone besides his mother had even realized that he was missing.
Except of course, the AI who had employed him. He was certain that it had already updated his status from extended vacation to terminated. Swapped out one defective cog for another that was unremarkable in any way.
His only passion had been watching the Prison World broadcasts, which everyone called the feed. He’d found joy in living vicariously through the women and men who fought for survival and fame every day. It was why he was willing to sell everything he had, save for years, and take out a loan with an interest rate that would make the devil blush.
Everything he’d done had been for this moment. His chance to live a life that mattered, no matter how short it may be. And oh, what a moment it was.
Thanks to the events of the last twenty-four hours, Edge had a chance to carve his name into history, armed with a core beyond his wildest dreams. Thank you. He put one hand to his heart. Thank you so, so much. For just a second, he thought he felt Skill-Eater reply. A flash of a smile the size of a barn.
Then the moment passed, and the wind began to howl, leaving Edge alone with his thoughts once more. He scampered back to the trunk and held on tight, laughing in exhilaration as a gust tried to pry him free from the branches and send him plummeting to the ground below.
At least if he fell, regeneration could patch back him up. Although he didn’t relish the prospect of breaking bones, even if the pain was temporary. As far as he knew, the skill could restore anything short of missing limbs or organs that were completely destroyed. Maybe even heal his spine if he broke his neck, though he would be helpless until the restoration was complete.
This train of thought hammered home the realization of just how much he had changed. It made him wonder if would even recognize the person he would become if he kept walking down this road. A prospect that he found to be intensely exciting rather than disturbing in any way.
Edge was still surprised that he’d let the weasel tear into his vitals to land a killing blow. An act that would have been unthinkable only a day before. He was already learning to rely on his new abilities. Well into the process of transforming into something new, beyond his most ambitious fantasies.
He sat there, huddling in the branches while grinning from ear to ear, waiting for the sky to lighten.
