Chương 48: Origin Story

Offer Barley a helping hand to grab onto. Wisdom DC 12 Roll: 15 Final: 24 Result: success To be kind to others, first be kind to yourself. Including allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Allowing others to see your vulnerability." I've fucked up." Both pairs of eyes blinked at Jordan. He felt the inevitable rush of embarrassment but pushed through it, knowing—trusting—that he was in a safe space." Yeah, I've fucked up bad. Worse than most people can ever conceive of fucking up their own life.

Had everything going for me—everything I ever needed—then threw it all away because I was the big sad and couldn't be bothered to seek help when I really needed to." Canyon watched him intently. Jordan could picture the ink-on-paper notes the Chronicler must be making in her head. As for Barley, the man only frowned, his instinct to flee no doubt overridden by the need to understand just what this crazy stranger was on about."

Then, for the longest time," the crazy stranger continued, "I just wallowed in my failure. I'd convinced myself that I'd blown past the point of no return. That there was no fixing whatever this is." Only after Jordan had pointed vaguely at himself did he realize that the gesture no longer had the same effect it used to. This time about 50 days ago, he would've pointed at a man in a baggy, smelly hoodie that couldn't quite hide the sag in his shoulders or the paunch of his belly.

Today though, his cross-collared tunic felt snug against well-defined if not quite shredded muscles. The paunch wasn't completely gone, but nor was it a cause for low self-esteem. Never had been, in truth, but it'd taken Jordan some 50 days to see it. He smiled to himself, as if amused by a private joke." I guess what I'm saying is it's never too late. Never too late to start clawing your way out of the hole. And certainly never too late to grab the hand that wants to pull you up. Like this."

Jordan reached out a hand, looking like one half of the epic handshake meme. The gesture, as was only expected, went unreciprocated for some time. Barley stared at the hand in disbelief, going so far as to exchange a glance with Canyon, as if to ask: is he always like this? The woman, for her part, merely studied the situation from her serene, discerning rectangle. The silence stretched on. Long enough to remind Jordan to feel uncomfortable.

He acknowledged the reminder, recognized the growing discomfort within him, then chose to stick with it. He told himself, Stop running away at the first sign of discomfort. Learn to be comfortable with being vulnerable. Otherwise, I'm right back to square one. Barley's expression remained disbelieving. Disbelieving, yes, but no longer mistrustful.

And it was in this near-hypnotic state that the man adjusted his grip on the doll and freed up one hand, the better to play the Carl Weathers to Jordan's Arnold Schwarzenegger. The two men clasped hands and held tight. By now, both were hesitantly yet surely smiling and nodding at a shared inside joke. As to what that joke was exactly, Jordan had only the vaguest idea, even as he noted the weathered coarseness of Barley's hand." So… what's next?" The question came from Canyon, calm and perfectly reasonable.

It brought the two men back to reality, upon which they immediately separated and averted their gazes." Um, yeah," Jordan coughed.

"So, you know, both Canyon and I are here if you want to get some things off your chest. We don't claim to be saviors, but we will listen without judgment. And sometimes… that's where it all starts." What'it' was, Jordan left to Barley to decide for himself. On this occasion, it started with a faraway look, a sheepish scratch of a shaggy chin, and a story mumbled in fits and starts." It ain't used to be like this." Ain't that the truth, Jordan thought.

It was the thesis statement to his, Barley's, and countless other stories just like theirs." I mean, this place was always the pits compared to the rest of the city. But we had lives, we had dreams… we had each other. And for all that to just go away… like that." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Barley made a gesture with his hand to evoke a wisp of smoke. He then shuddered as if he'd seen a bad omen." But sometimes I think… maybe we had it coming, you know?

Maybe this is just what happens to folks who keep rotten secrets."" Akula?" Jordan couldn't help but interject. Barley turned his faraway gaze back onto Jordan but didn't seem to see him." That was her name, wasn't it? I'd nearly forgot. She just wandered in one day, she and her… I wanna say mother, but that can't be right, can it? Dunno where that old crone picked up a spiritkind child, but soon as she arrived, she became a secret for the whole town to keep.

Couldn't be drawing the city guards' attention—bring the whole lot of 'em to come sniffing around our business. That was never an option in these parts, and even I knew that as a wee lad."" She had to be 'one of you' by necessity," Canyon observed mildly, betraying nothing of what she thought of the arrangement, "but the townspeople still found a way to other her, after all." Jordan looked at Canyon sidelong, wondering if she might have been too direct.

Barley, however, sagged his shoulders in contrition—a stark contrast to his earlier defensive anger." I knew it wasn't right. Even as a wee lad. Easy for me to say now, but it's true. Maybe some of the other kids felt the same way. Not that it did her any good. Her and…" Barley trailed off, now casting his gaze onto the blackened floor of the house. The man tightened his grip on the doll, as if to brace for some heavy impact—too heavy to withstand on his own. Seeing this, Jordan decided to meet him halfway."

The fire," he asked softly, "who started it?" Barley shook his head, then shook all over. He swayed in place, looking as though he might collapse. Jordan reached across to steady him." It wasn't me, I swear to Shennong," the man croaked miserably.

"That day… that day, I got carried away at a game of Wolf and Lambs. Was mighty nasty to her. Even nastier than usual. So I just… wanted to go over and apologize, understand? But when I got there… it was…"" The house was already on fire," Canyon all but whispered. Barley nodded.

"Never found out who did it. I suppose nobody asked. All I know is what I saw that night. A house burning down to cinders. A Garuda girl thrashing and howling at the fire… trying to blow it out, I suppose. But it did nothing. The fire was too big. The girl too small." Jordan closed his eyes in distress. Then reopened them right away when the image of the fire flooded his mind. Beside him, he thought he heard a soft, muffled sniff." I pulled her away from the house," Barley murmured, still looking at the floor.

"Took some doing. Don't know if yous know this, but a Garuda is strong … even when they're a wee lass. Got myself thrashed up pretty bad, but I managed to pull her away before she went the way of her house and… the old crone who was trapped inside."" Couldn't someone have put it out?" Canyon asked with an almost audible whine, perhaps desperate to change the ending of a story that was nearly half a century old.

"Were there no Hydromancers on hand, or—" Barley snorted humorlessly." You think too highly of our town, Miss Chronicler. As if any of us could've made anything of ourselves." But you made a Pathfinder of yourself, Jordan stopped himself from blurting. Now wasn't the time and he knew it." What happened to Akula?" he asked instead." Flew off in the night." Barley now turned his gaze upward, as if he could see a young Garuda girl in the sky.

"We never saw her again. And that was also right about when everything turned to shit. It was like the place was suddenly cursed, and who's to say it wasn't? Shops shuttered one by one. There was no work to be had, and we all had to leave. Eke out a living elsewhere, or… or not." Barley fell silent then, having unloaded his chest in the only way he knew how. He then began to fiddle with the doll in his hand, perhaps reminiscing about all the'or not's over the years. Jordan knew that look.

He'd seen it plenty of times. Staring back at him on the darkened screen of a cell phone. In the end, it was Barley himself who broke the silence. He looked up at Jordan as if remembering something." You're one of the tornado tamers, aren't you? I just realized." Jordan nodded, but not before blushing slightly. He still wasn't used to the whole celebrity thing." Here," Barley said as he held out the doll.

"You oughta take this. And maybe… maybe you could give it back to Akula, if you ever get the chance."" You should give it to her yourself," Jordan said almost reflexively, then winced. He'd meant well, of course, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how callous they might have been. Barley gave Jordan a pained expression, then pushed the doll into the latter's chest." Take it. Please. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve…" The man trailed off again, but his meaning couldn't be clearer.

What he'd relinquished was the doll, but what he 'didn't deserve' was something else entirely. Jordan received the doll. And maybe that was where he should've left it. But he couldn't help himself. As he held the doll to his chest, he declared," I'll bring her back." Barley stared, eyes wide but not quite as disbelieving as they'd been earlier. Jordan also felt the keen rectangular gaze of Chronicler Canyon." I'll bring her back," Jordan doubled down.

"I'll bring Akula back, so you can… apologize to her in person. Fifty years too late, maybe, but I'll make sure it happens. That's a promise. So, until then, don't… you know…" Now it was Jordan's turn to trail off. He had a fairly clear idea of what he'd wanted to say, but he wasn't at all clear on whether he should say it. Whatever had been left unsaid, however, Barley had heard enough." I'd like to see you try, young feller." The man appeared to smile a bit, though it was hard to tell upon his grimy, shaggy face.

"Our Akula ain't some Lamb for you to wrangle, I'll tell you that much."