Chapter 6 - For Now

  “GAH!” Alex exclaims as he once more attempts to get the hang of the ‘intent-movement’. The most recent try results in him nearly face-planting into a rock formation. Stumbling back from the rock, Alex groans and sits down on the ground. “If I focus on somewhere too far away, I can’t seem to get myself to go. If I focus on something closer, I nearly smack into it after just a couple steps.” He grumbles, glaring up at Corvus’s crow-form wheeling in the air above him.

  The bird swoops down to land a few feet in front of Alex. He examines the man with his black-marble eye for a few moments before answering. “If I had to guess. When you focus on distant points, there’s a portion of your mind that still disbelieves you’ll be able to get there quickly.” At Alex’s chagrined expression, Corvus continues. “And that’s likely being compounded by your frustration.”

  The crow turns and takes a step with its talons, ending up several feet further away. To Alex’s perception, Corvus had walked the entire distance, but done-so in the span of a heartbeat. “Your mind knows you can do it, since you had a small success coming down the wall. So it understands the potential in small jumps.” Corvus explains. “But what I believe is tripping you up,” he pauses just long enough to show the pun was entirely intentional, “is that you’re focusing on the point as the destination itself, rather than focusing on yourself arriving at it.”

  Alex frowns, thinking back to how he’d nearly smacked into the rock moments before. “Yeah, you might be right. I was focusing on this rock rather than on me being at it.” He muses, then gets back to his feet. “Let me try again.”

  The next few hours are spent with Alex bouncing between objects, generally headed in the direction of Last-Stop. It takes him numerous attempts with different mental images before he lands on one that offers a modicum of improvement. Stepping off again, Alex focuses on a clump of scrub-grasses a good ways ahead of him. This time, he focuses on a mental image of himself stepping down right in front of them.

  Once more, he feels that strange stretching sensation, letting him know he’d initiated the movement. But this time, instead of stumbling over the grasses or face-planting into a rock, the world snaps back into focus with him having just put his foot down a few feet from the clump. “HA!” Alex shouts, pumping a fist into the air. The small victory easing the frustration that had been threatening to overwhelm him.

  Corvus wings down and alights on a stick poking through the grass. “That was much smoother, Alex. Well done. Particularly for a faded soul.” The crow commends him. Alex’s eyes narrow and he looks incredulously at Corvus.

  It takes Alex a moment to find his voice, but when he speaks, there’s a layer of ice in his tone. “What do you mean, ‘for a faded soul’. Are people without Animus not supposed to be able to do this?” He asks, glaring at the crow.

  Corvus caws, then does what could only be described as a ‘bird-shrug’ with his wings. “Faded souls can do it. You’ve been proving that for an hour or more now. Having Animus makes it easier though, yes.” He admits. Then seeing that Alex is gearing up for an angry snap, Corvus heads him off. “Think though. If this is something that requires an intention to perform it, and you’re already getting hung-up on personal doubt, would me telling you ‘it’s harder for you’, do you any favors?”

  Alex closes his mouth and frowns. “Yeah, probably not. I see what you mean.” He says, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The extended practice with the method of movement had drained his ability to focus and left him with the beginnings of a headache. “How much further is it to Last-Stop?” He asks, dreading the answer.

  Corvus launches back into the air and circles above before swooping down again. “About two miles, I’d say.” He answers and eyes Alex for a moment. “There is no harm in resting. Take a small break. Now that you understand a method, the rest of the distance should go quickly.”

  With a grunt, Alex settles down to sit and lays back, letting his eyes close to rest. As he relaxes, he thinks of something to ask. “Corvus, I noticed something earlier. Once I traded you my Animus, there was this weird disconnect. Like I stopped wanting it so badly. Is there something about Animus that makes you want more when you have some?” He asks, cracking open an eye to peer at the crow.

  Corvus considers him for a few heartbeats before he answers. “Yes, there is an element of that. I usually hesitate to tell new arrivals about that detail. Some hear that Animus behaves that way and reject it, intentionally becoming faded just to avoid it.” The crow pauses, letting out a heavy sigh. “If you were in my position, and you knew a piece of information would lead to more people ceasing to exist, would you share that information?” Corvus asks. And even with the crow’s face, he manages to give Alex a meaningful look.

  Alex has to consider that for a moment. He doesn’t like it, but he has to agree with Corvus’s logic. It makes a certain cynical sense. “Yeah, probably not…” He admits, scowling up at the distant cavern ceiling. “So people really just give it up so they won’t feel the desire for it?” He asks, then voices a half-remembered phrase. “Having money just makes you want more.” He says with a dry chuckle.

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  He rests for a while longer, lapsing into silence. Corvus seems content to let the quiet linger as well. With the ambient light Alex can’t quite nap, so he just sits with his own thoughts. And the more those thoughts linger, the more questions start to plague him. “Corvus?” He asks, and the crow makes a soft noise to show he’s listening. “I’ve got a few more questions, now that I’ve had time to just kinda process for a bit.” He says, then digs into it.

  “With no sun, no change in light, how do you tell time here?” Alex asks, still laying with his eyes closed.

  “Time, like travel, has an element of intentionality. Focus on measuring an hour, and you’ll get a feel for when it has passed. However there is no day or night, and thus no measure for weeks or months. So we don’t really focus on that timescale. Hell somewhat forces us to live in the moment. Or have plans for the long view that aren't so much dependent on when something happens, just that it eventually does.” Corvus replies, seeming pleased with the question.

  Alex chews on that one, then asks “So which are you? In the moment, or long view?”

  “Both.” Corvus says with amusement. “What other questions are pricking your curiosity?” The crow asks. “While you rest, there’s no better time to answer them.”

  Alex props up on an elbow to look at Corvus. “Well, now that you mention it, I do have more questions.” He begins. “I’m a ‘soul’ here, right? My body is, what, a manifestation of that? If so, how was I bleeding after that fall?” He asks while gingerly reaching behind himself to touch the still sore spot.

  If there was a way for a crow to raise an eyebrow, it’s surely the expression on crow-Corvus’s face. “Astute. Very Astute, Alex. You’re correct. That body is a manifestation of your soul. But it can still be harmed, and it does cost your soul effort to maintain and repair it. That’s part of why Animus keeps you from reaching dissolution. It provides a constant stream of energy that the soul can make use of.” Corvus says, then pauses for a breath.

  “Beyond that, the bleeding and scrapes are a familiar way your soul responds to the damage. If your mind had no concept of pain or physical harm, it would have manifested the effect in a different way.” Corvus continues his explanation. “For beings with lifetimes of experience in Hell, we can control those effects, and even refuse to show them. Don’t trust your mortal-senses when it comes to perceiving others’ condition.”

  Alex watches Corvus, nodding along with the lesson. “Ok, got it.” He says, still thinking. Then a question comes to him that he should have asked earlier. “The ‘moving with intent’ thing, is there a name for that? And when it’s working, how fast am I really going?”

  Corvus gives a cawwing laugh at that. “Yes, we typically call it ‘intent-movement’. As for the speed, don’t think of it as velocity. You aren’t really moving faster. It’s more like short-cutting space. You still pass through the intervening distance, but as you saw with my demonstration it’s more like stretching through it.”

  Alex screws-up his face, trying to wrap his mind around Corvus’s explanation. “But the result is that I’m getting there faster, right?” Corvus nods. “But not with velocity, as you put it… That, I’m sorry, that just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Corvus laughs softly at Alex’s confusion. “You’re able to accept being in Hell, accept gravity being relative, and able to accept making a soul-binding deal with a crow demon, but is it this that you struggle with?” Corvus caws out, obviously in good humor.

  Alex snorts and flops back down onto the rocky ground. “Yeah, yeah, have a laugh…” He huffs. “Can’t trust physics at all here it seems.” He mutters to himself. He relaxes a bit, puzzling through the implications of the ‘intent-movement’. “So I couldn’t use it to move real fast to land a punch harder.” He pauses, looking over at the crow. Corvus just shakes his head. “But I could use it to position myself to land a punch.” The crow nods.

  “Exactly. You can use it to move in, to adjust position. But it won’t add any additional force to your blow.” Corvus begins. “However, making use of intent-movement in the heat of battle is remarkably difficult to manage. You’d need to devote a portion of your focus solely on that skill, which would take away from your battle-awareness. I doubt the tradeoff would be worth it for most combatants.”

  Alex grumps and rubs his face. “Right. So just focus on using it to travel for now.” He says, and Corvus takes notice of the ‘for now’. Alex racks his brain for another question, eventually settling on one. “Alright, so next um… If you can’t be killed as long as you have Animus, what’s the real danger in Hell?” He asks. “It seems like that would trivialize a lot of conflicts.”

  Corvus lifts a wing and wobbles it side to side. “In a manner, that is true. The real danger is internalizing loss. Get beaten down repeatedly, and it can start to worm its way into your psyche. That’s the real danger. Internalize the losses, break their will, and then it becomes much more tempting for someone to give up their Animus and fade.” Corvus says, his voice turning somber. “Even demons are vulnerable to this, not just the souls of former mortals.”

  Alex winces, hearing the weight in Corvus’s tone. “You’ve lost friends that way, haven’t you?” He asks softly, sitting up and brushing the dust from his shirt.

  Corvus dips his head. “More than I’d ever wish to count.” He says, voice wavering ever so slightly.

  Feeling that the opportunity to sate more of his curiosity is passing, Alex pushes up to his feet. “I think I ah,” he starts to say, “I have a good grasp on things for now. Let’s get moving. Last-Stop isn’t going to come to me, right?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Rather than answer, Corvus just launches back into the air.

  Alex sets his sight on another rock formation jutting from the ground, picturing himself stepping next to it as he sets off. And within a heartbeat, his foot lands next to it. Holding onto the feeling of that focus, Alex turns his head, picking out another landmark on the cavern floor and steps again. And again. Moving in a zig-zag of intent-movement steps, closing the distance with the destination. Last-Stop.