Curselock

Chapter 94: Peace

Jude’s eyes were the first thing to move. They twitched within their housing, rolling around the insides of their eyelids like they were having a bad dream. They shook and stammered, rotating with horrid vigor until his past traumas fully surfaced.

They came like a wrecking ball, gnawing away all of his security and assurances. He was naked, his clothes nothing more than an ethereal blossom – like a husk or a cocoon. It was cold, like the icy prison Ice Castle’s King put him in. Hoarfrost licked off his skin, striking a pose in line with the wind.

He was cold.

Then the memories took their turn.

He had died. Plain and simple as that. He had been frozen in an ice cube with dozens of monsters around to laugh at and taunt him. He hated that. It irritated him. It enraged him.

There was a spark of heat.

Obviously he wasn’t dead, but he couldn’t remember just how he wasn’t dead. All he remembered was red rage, a young bear cub yelling his name, and his two best friends calling for him. They were still out there, right? Those he loved? Those he wished to succeed even if it meant he died? Just where were they, he wondered?

Where was he?

It was cold, so very cold.

Jude just floated there, hovering in a void of colorless darkness. He could see himself, highlighted like a spotlight directly above him, yet nothing more. Alone with his thoughts, he sat, wondering, pondering, theorizing. Yet there was more, just what was it?

Oh, right. The nightmare.

Cold, ice, frost, death, crying, friends fighting for their lives. And rage.

A lot of rage.

Rage.

That made him angry, right? He was supposed to be the angry one. He was supposed to be the one who was enraged? Why couldn’t he get mad, then? It was there, in the background, but muted and locked away.

That was a good thing, right? The longer he looked at it, the longer he leaned toward the side of bliss. It was a nice sentiment, having no rage. He could just float around, helpless, happy, and uncaring. The world was his own, everything as far as he could see… which wasn’t much.

It was an alien thought that broke his misery. It pulled against his soul, it pushed against his mind. The cage housing his rage bulged. The thought then disappeared, gone without a trace. Until it wasn’t. It was suddenly there, sitting before him like his rage.

It was blue so light it almost looked white. Like snow reflecting the sunlight back into the sky. He reached out to touch it, to figure out what it was. His hand went numb, an everlasting cold breaking through his skin and pushing into his fingers. His body went rigid, yet Jude couldn’t help but not care.

He was in bliss, the cold was so numbing, so fitting. It blurred his pain, his nightmare. It removed his stress and relocked his rage. It encompassed him like a hug, wrapping around him with a speed and strength unknown to him.

He had seen his parents spar a few times over the years and more than once they had to pay for damages to the facility. They eventually decided to only fight in the isolation of nature. The trees never stood a chance, not when two rank six warriors fought.

The cold that was merging with his bones was stronger than both of his parents put together.

Centuries of power rolled around him, all forming from the light blue mass in front of him. Was it mana? Was it magic? He didn’t know, he was never one for that kind of stuff. He had always left that to Leland, his friend that had an interest in that sort of—

Leland.

He was alive, right?

A cold sweat fell from Jude’s boundless form. He had left Leland to die. He had died himself and left Leland and Glenny to fend off that moose monster all by themselves. How could he do that? How could he let that happen? He was better than that, he had more control over his Legacy than that!

He was the son of two Royal Inquisitors. He was the Legacy of the Berserker. He was a savior of Shoutwell, and defender of the powerless!

Something flickered again, this time bringing more warmth.

He snatched it instantly, his hand pushing through the colorless void and into the mass of rage before him. His hand went numb, an infinite anger breaking through his skin and pushing into his fingers. His body went limp, yet Jude began to care.

Rage bloomed in his belly, fueling his heart and mind to speed up. It reinforced his nightmares, it enhanced his pain. Guilt came to him next, pushing the remainder of his rage’s cage open. The power encompassed him like a slap on the wrist. It wrapped around him with speed and strength far, far, surpassing that of the light blue bliss.

Hot and cold. Fire and ice. Anger and peace.

The rage was much more flamboyant. It easily outshined the calmness, attracting Jude. Like a moth to a flame, he allowed it to take purchase. To rekindle what was lost and what will be. It was his power, like Legacy, and it wouldn’t be disobeyed.

Yet, surprisingly, the calmness remained. It circled within his body, skirting around the rage like a ballet dancer moving through a stage of mouse traps.

No, that wasn’t quite right. The calmness moved with the rage, impersonating it like a spy behind enemy lines.

Grimacing, Jude knew that wasn’t right either. The calmness, the light blue energy… it… it… it was intertwined, becoming one with the rage. Becoming something more with the rage. Fire and ice, anger and peace. One coin with two faces. One person with two…

His eyes opened.

A familiar weight was lounging on his chest, her breathing inline with his. Gelo was awake, yet unmoving and ignorant that her pillow had woken up. She lightly hummed. A simple tune, the very same that drew her to Jude in the first place. It was out of key and mostly mumbled, but Jude recognized it anyway.

He, still laying in the sand, followed Gelo’s eyes and looked across the arena. There were Glenny and Leland, both alive and well. The former of which was chasing after the latter in an odd game of tag. Tag with conjured weapons and an aflame flail. It looked fun, Jude thought.

But he couldn’t keep from closing his eyes again. He was tired, very tired, and he just wanted to hum along with his bear cub friend. So he did. He joined her tune after a particularly long rest, instantly harmonizing with her off-key sounds.

Gelo didn’t notice, not until the song fully ended and Jude whispered, “That was beautiful, Gells.”

The cub instantly sprang to her feet, launching off Jude’s chest like four little rockets ignited in her paws. With a yelp, she landed beside him and instantly started licking his face.

“Ju-de! Jud-e! J-ude!” she bellowed.

A low chuckle sounded from an area behind him that he couldn’t see. He wanted to sit up and look, but the small creature attacking his face had other plans.

“You’re awake! You’re awake! How are you feeling? Can you hear me!? Jude can you hear me!?”

“He can hear you quite well, my daughter,” a voice said from his blind spot.

Noticing that both Glenny and Leland stopped their game of tag, Jude forced his neck to crane backward to the voice. An older version of Gelo stood mighty and big, like a mountain fit with icy trees. The bear loomed over him, a smile on her snout.

“Are you Gelo’s mom?” Jude blurted out.

“How could you tell?” she instantly said back before chuckling again. “Call me Floe. Nice to meet you, young warrior.”

“Well met, I’m Jude.”

“I know. Gelo’s been mumbling about her time with you and the others for the last few hours.” Floe lowered an oversized paw, assisting him to a seated position. “You have my thanks for protecting my daughter from the poachers.”

If Gelo wasn’t sitting on his lap, and inadvertently, his hands, Jude would have waved her off. Instead he said, “It was the least I could do.”

“Indeed. But you suffered for it.”

Gelo flinched at that, looking at her mother with a guilt-ridden expression. He turned back to Jude, wedging her snout into the crevice of his neck. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“It's okay,” he petted. His shirt was suddenly damp, no doubt tears from the cub. He began to hum, stroking her fur.

For the moment they three sat like that, at least until the other boys arrived.

“Jude!” one of them said.

“Jude!” the other said.

They crashed into the sand before engulfing their friend in a mighty hug. Gelo struggled under the pressure but eventually relented and accepted her warm prison. It was nice after all.

Floe cleared her throat, ending their sentimental moment. “How do you feel, young warrior?”

“Like a million gold,” he answered in turn.

Everyone stared at him.

“Seriously!” he continued. “I feel good! Loose! Limber!”

Leland was the one who spoke, “Touch of Regeneration strikes again.” He smiled in relief. “But in all seriousness, you were… broken. After the battle, I mean. You don’t feel anything is wrong?”

“Broken?” Jude asked. “I—I don’t feel like I’m broken. I feel good, really good.”

A silence stretched for only a moment before Floe said, “Good, it worked then.”

Jude looked up to the mountain of a Guardian Spirit Beast, “What worked?”

“I gave you my blessing, an Incarnation.”

The boys’ eyes widened.