The Scholar's Tale (Original Fantasy)

Book I, Chapter 4

"The problem with people is that they view things as separate."- Mendax;

The-staged, yet real-danger gone, I channeled my gift, remembering being healthy and unharmed. My body creaked and groaned as it healed, and I grit my teeth to avoid crying out. I hated doing this, but I did not trust Mharra enough to ask to be healed. Not after his "test".

'You go belowdecks,' Mharra said, gesturing for me to leave. 'Three sleeps where he works. Says there's less to walk after waking up. I'd call him lazy, but...' He shrugged. 'He keeps things... afloat. Hah!'. As I walked towards the door that led below, I thought "Three" was a weird nickname. Behind me, I could hear the two talk.

'Puns,' Ib grumbled. 'You in one of your moods, boss?'

'Oh, I'm just excited to see the crew grow. Imagine what we could do with someone who blows things up with a touch!'

'We could... blow things up?' Ib didn't seem to share Mharra's enthusiasm. I went through the door and walked down the stairs, hearing the grey giant's musings. 'If we found someone like that. But that's not what he does, boss. I think...'

By now, I was so far below the sounds on the deck were muffled by the hum and growl of heavy machinery. I found myself in a narrow corridor, the walls made of soot-stained brass. I could not see any maps or indications on the walls, so I walked to the right, calling out all the while.

'Three? I'm Dhalgo, your... newest crewmate, I suppose. Captain Mharra put me through this test, then sent me to come see you. Sorry if I woke you up. Captain's orders...' I trailed off, as I received no answer. No point in talking alone.

Maybe Three  was still asleep, and he couldn't hear me over the machines. Though how he'd adapted to sleeping like this, damned if I knew. Needs must, I suppose.

Eventually, I reached a door marked "ENG N R". It had clearly seen some use, as the pitted plaque could attest. At least, I hoped it was the engine room, and not something stranger.

Only one way to find out.

I didn't knock, as it was too loud for that, and the door had no handle. So, I tried to push it open. It didn't budge, then, with a low, groaning sound, it slid to the right, into the doorframe. Motion sensers, I thought.

The engine room, for that was indeed what it was, was filled with puffing, shuddering machines and grinding wheels. The ship's steaming heart. It was hot and smoky, haphazardly lit- some places were lit by lamps or boltcages, others so dark I couldn't see anything.

'Three?' I called out again. I couldn't see anyone in the room. Maybe Three was a shapeshifter too? 'I am-'

'Yeah, yeah!' A man's voice cut me off. He sounded younger than me. 'Mharra sent me a message, he did. When he got his eye on you. Said you were interesting. Feel free to feel threatened.'

'Only feel? That would be nice,' I said drily. 'Can you come closer? I can't see you. Where are you?'

'Here,' He answered, from my right.

'Here!' From my left, this time.

'Aaand- guess!' From beneath me.

I looked around. 'So, you throw your voice? Impressive, but I didn't come for a show. I just wanted to meet you.'

He snorted, from three directions at once. 'A trick, he says.'

'Think I'm a ventriloquist or something?'

'How d'you think I got my name, eh?'

And he appeared, passing through a gear to my right like it was mist. He was white and lean, with white hair that fell to shadow his eyes. I could see straight through him.

Then, an identical being appeared from my left, floating. And finally, one rose through the floor, right in front of me, grinning. He...they looked identical.

'So...' I began, trying to sound casual. 'You're, what, spirit triplets? Is "Three" your group name?'

They snickered, floating to spin together in the air. Whisps of ectoplasm flew around them.

'I could have been, maybe. But mother dearest smothered that in the womb,' they spoke in unison, but I only heard one voice. 'Triplets were rare back home, and they often died at birth. Poor doctors, and...' They trailed off, scowling.

'Mother could not bear the thought of losing her children, so she begged a passing mage to do something. May they never be apart. But spells like that are tricky, when placed upon those yet to be born... I was born with three bodies. I don't know if the minds fused in the womb, but... I've never had siblings. Not really. Only me, and Triarchs, were three perspectives a nightmare at first...' Three smiled sadly.

'My mother tried to love me, I know, but she couldn't. Not as I was. She still though of me as multiple children, called my bodies names she would have given... them.'

'Three, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mock you. I can't imagine-'

'No, you can't,' He said, just a little sharply. Then, he took a deep breath-habit?- and smiled again. I thought it was more for his sake than mine. 'Sorry. Relax, man. It wasn't all bad. You ever lay with three girls on three islands at once? Heh.'

I tried to smile. 'Can't say I ever have. But then, you seem a better multitasker than me.'

Three laughed, one of his... selves? One apparition floated forward and tried to clap me on the shoulder. His hand went through, but I forced myself not to shiver. I could not bear to upset this poor man. But a thought niggled at me...

'If I may ask... are not such spells usually broken in death? Should you not be... separate now?'

'What, you a mage or something? And yeah, usually... but this one was made to last. And even if it wasn't, what would have happened? Would two newborn minds and souls have popped out of nowhere? Can you imagine that?'

I tried not to. 'Then... are you barred from the afterlife? Perhaps something there could-'

Three scoffed. 'Didn't hear me earlier? I'm a Triarchist, Dhal. The Eternal Wheel holds no ever-after, only rebirth and dissolution through knowledge... thank the Triarchs I'm dumb, eh?' He grinned.

'I'm not well-versed in your faith,' I admitted. 'Then why...?'

'Why wasn't I reborn in a new body, or bodies? Unfinished business. You know how ghosts are. And some things seem universal, regardless of your faith.'

'I see. May I ask how...?' I didn't say "die". Ghosts are touchy at best about death, when they even acknowledge it, in my experience.

Three laughed, wearing earsplitting grins. 'Good question. I'm dying to know.'