IABD 18: Power Reveals

Matthias and his companions emerged through Eklund’s front gate, parting the crowd like a ship through stormy seas. Villagers reached out to touch the young man’s shoulders, giving him congratulations, and well-wishes. 

His eyes met gazes filled with shock, pride and even fear…but no pity. 

For too many years Matthias had been chained by pity, looked down on by so many around him. Even those that meant well. 

Today, that chain had been broken.  He wore a grim smile: his tormentors had finally paid the price by his hand. Matthias looked up at the sky. 

Had it always been so wide, so blue and so full of endless possibilities? 

Had the mountain peaks always seemed so close? 

Had the roads and wilderness always called so loudly? 

Light was brighter. Sounds sharper. Smells more vibrant. And his body was so light; the weight of years of suffering was pulling away and he felt like—if he jumped up—he could reach the stars themselves. 

No longer did he fear his patrol duty in the Wolfwood: it seemed less like a death sentence and more like a rite of passage and an opportunity. He looked down at Dagma, skipping along the road at his side, humming an old war song.  

She met his gaze. 

They grinned at each other, giddy giggles rising in the air. 

“And that’s what I like about you Evalmerans,” Altaizar chuckled. “In a softer realm, somebody might be wringing their hands and screaming, ‘think of the children’, after that display of violence you gave them. You people are made of sterner stuff, though; the Midlanders might call you barbarians, but I find you refreshing. Working with the squeamish can become frustrating. Congratulations, Matthias. You continue to impress.” 

Matthias smiled. “I aim to please.” 

Sur Friya cleared her throat. “I apologise: I was wrong for trying to stop you. I didn’t want you getting hurt, but…” Her eyes almost seemed to look through him. “You’ve grown in ways that I never could have imagined.” Her attention fell on Altaizar. “What have you two been up to together?” 

“Well, I…” Matthias turned, looking at his mother. 

 Beggahasta walked a little behind the group, girded in heavy plate armor faced by blood-red leather, her shoulders wrapped in the fur of a brown bear. Her face looked drawn, her skin pale and her jaw stiff. 

Her eyes held a storm of emotions that Matthias could not quite read. 

“Master Altaizar, Sur Friya, could I ask you to take Dagma home for me?” she asked. “I want to speak to my son. Alone.” 

“But I wanted to celebrate!” Dagma complained. “Matthie won and you're back! We should have a feast! A big one, with Breg! I want to hear how your patrol went!” 

“We will celebrate, Dagma,” Beggahasta’s voice was gentle. “I promise I’ll tell you plenty of stories about my patrol, but I really need to talk with your brother. Be a good girl, and wait for us at home, alright?” 

Dagma hmphed. “Fine.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” Sur Friya promised. 

“And I’ll make sure Dagma gets back to your home safely,” Altaizar bowed theatrically. He looked at Matthias. “Good luck.” 

The young man swallowed, giving him a nervous nod. 

Girl, knight and mage went down the road, leaving behind two red figures. One was covered in red leather over plate armour. The other, in drying blood over chainmail and bandages. 

They looked at each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Come with me.” Beggahasta nodded to a nearby forest path. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

She walked towards the woods. 

Matthias took a deep breath and followed. 

### 

For a time, they walked among the trees in silence. 

Matthias heard the late summer wind passing through the canopy above, as he enjoyed the scents of the forest and the summer flowers. His mind worked, trying to decide how to tell his mother what he’d risked and what he’d gained. 

But the words would not come. 

Beggahasta—her eyes focused ahead—broke the silence first. “Matt.” 

“Yes?” He flinched. 

She caught him in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re safe.” 

He froze, then hugged her back. “I wasn’t going to let them kill me, mother. Don’t worry.” 

“I have to worry, Matthias, I’m your mother. That’s what mothers do.” Her hug tightened. “And I want you to know that I am proud of you. That I have always been proud of you. That I will always be proud of you.” 

Matthias felt a lump rise in his throat.” “Thank you, mother. I really mean that.” 

He straightened his spine, then stepped out of her hug. “Listen, I’ve got something to tell you. But it’s…it’s a lot.” 

“You can tell me anything, Matt.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was as gentle as a lullaby. “At any time.” 

“Okay, well it all started…when I fell off the cliff.” 

Matthias told her everything. 

He spoke about his fall, his dream, the gamrung, the shadow-tendril and his experiments with it; he told her about breaking into Altaizar’s tower and the strange student-teacher relationship they had forged. 

She listened as he spoke of his training, about learning soul-breathing at Blood’s Drop, and the trial that was his Awakening. When he told her of the lightning that had struck his body and soul, her eyes widened and her lips flattened, but her face soon returned to its calm. 

Though, her eyes were a little redder and a little wetter. 

And lastly, he told her about his Towers, his last two months of training with life energy circulation, his fights against Altaizar’s water replicas, and finished with— 

“—and that’s when I decided to challenge all three of them,” he concluded. “If I’d known you were coming back today, I might have waited a bit longer, but I didn’t want them to figure out I’d gotten stronger. They might not have accepted my challenges if they thought I could fight back. And that’s it, mother…that’s the whole story.” 

  For a moment, Beggahasta Stonebreaker watched her son silently. 

He squirmed in his skin. Would she scream at him for risking himself? Would she be disappointed he’d gone down the path of stealing energy from the deities they worshipped? Would she be frightened of the shadow-tendril and accuse him of being some horrible creature? 

Instead, she caught him up in another hug. “I’m sorry, Matthias. I’m so, so, very sorry.”   

“What? Why?” He hugged her back. “You didn’t do anything.” 

“That’s just the problem. I didn’t protect you.” She pulled away, unshed tears shining in her eyes. “You’ve been tormented for so many years of your life, and you had no way out; you were forced down a path of desperation, for good or ill.  I should have been able to put fear in the tiny hearts of Haakon, his spawn and those two little worms, so you’d be able to live your life free of them.” 

She glared in the direction of Eklund’s castle. “People like them should live in fear, not you. They should be afraid with every breath they take.” 

“I did finally put fear in them, though. So, it’s alright.” He stood a little straighter. “I repaid cruelty with greater cruelty.” 

“But you should not have had to: I should have been the one to make that repayment while you enjoyed the last years of your childhood. You should not have had to risk your life and your soul because your mother was too buried in…everything to be a proper shield.” 

Her voice cracked then, even as she tried to hide it. 

Matthias swallowed. 

“Mother, I…” He paused. “Are you truly not angry with me? At all? For what I did behind your back?” 

Her eyes hardened. “For finding a way out of your hell when I couldn’t guide you or protect you? For walking a path that you were forced down? Only a monster would blame the child for that.” 

A wave of anger flashed through him. 

His father had blamed Bregindoure for his curse. 

He’d blamed him for his weaknesses. 

He was the one constantly trying to take Dagma away, the one who had failed to protect his sons. His meddling—and his dog, Eklund—had forced their mother to walk a knife’s edge lest he find grounds to have Bregindoure killed, or to send him off to die in some war, or have Dagma brought to his castle to be raised by his cruel hand.  

For years, Matthias had watched his mother wither herself down to the bone trying to raise them while risking her life in the Wolfwood to support their family. 

He’d— 

Matthias shook himself; this was not the time for those memories. Things were starting to change. “Thank you, mother, for not blaming me.” 

“As I said, I will always be proud of you.” She cupped his cheek, smiling at him. 

“No matter what I do?” 

She shook her head. “I will always be proud of you because of who you are: you are not the sort of child…the sort of young man that would bring me shame. What you have done scares me to death, and I would have been enraged if I had caught you when you were risking your life in Awakening, but never ashamed of you.” 

“Thanks…thanks mother,” Matthias smiled. 

“But I must warn you.” She looked at him gravely. 

He swallowed. “Y-yes?” 

“My child, you have come to power very abruptly. Do you know what they say about power?” she asked. 

“I have heard the fables that speak of how power corrupts,” he reasoned. 

She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. If it were true, there’d be no heroes. There’d be no one who makes the world a better place by slaying monsters in the wild, bringing down villains on the battlefield, feeding the hungry during times of war, healing the sick or ruling their subjects well. No, son, power reveals. The measure of a soul is not what they do when they are frightened of punishment. A soul’s true measure comes when they have the power to make their desires a reality.” 

Beggahasta smiled at her son. “Today, you were able to solve a problem by way of greater cruelty. Good, justified, cruelty. I would have done the exact same thing: the Stonebreakers are warriors, not pacifists. But when one makes one’s desire a reality through violence, it can become tempting to use that same solution for all of one’s problems. Guard well your desires and guide your actions with care: that is the duty of one who wields power.” 

Her words struck him. In many ways, they were similar to what the Tower had warned him about intent when it came to One with Truth and Nature.  

He nodded. “I swear, mother. I will be careful with my intent.” 

“Good boy.” She smiled. “That is why you’re my favourite child...named Matthias.” 

“Yeah, thanks for—Hey, wait a minute!” he cried. 

She laughed then, her smile easily reaching her eyes. Then that smile faded. “This shadow-tendril that you speak of. Show it to me.” 

“I would, but...” He scanned the forest around them, taking in the sounds and sights. All that met his eyes were the swaying of trees and the undergrowth in the wind, the chittering of squirrels, curious mulmaks in the canopy, and chirping birds on the wing. There was no sign of anyone else about. Still, though. “I don’t know, mother. You think someone could have followed us?” 

“My senses are sharper than most, thanks to my Life Enforcement.” She looked around. “There is not a single one of Eklund’s spies about. I must see what you speak of, so, show it to me quickly.” 

He glanced around another time. “Alright.” 

His shadow rippled as the tentacle appeared, rising and twisting. 

The colour drained from Beggahasta’s face and she stared—wide-eyed—and speechless. Eventually, the shadow-tendril reached its full height, rising from his shadow, twisting in the air. 

“There it is,” Matthias whispered. “It’s alright, mother, it feels no different to me than one of my arms.” 

Wordlessly, Beggahasta stared at the tendril rising from her son’s shadow. “It does not hurt, does it?” 

“No.” Matthias shook his head quickly. He made the tendril shake its tip in a similar gesture. “Not at all. Well, unless you cut it...or step on it. I, uh, did that once during training against the water replicas. I was very glad that Master Altaizar wasn’t there to see me.” 

He smiled weakly. 

Beggahasta didn’t return the smile, her eyes still fixed on the tendril. “What does it do?” 

“All sorts of things!” he said, his enthusiasm growing. “Here.” 

He reached out with the tendril, choosing a stone beside the road—larger than his head—and picked it up. “It's a lot stronger since I Awakened. It can grab things, move them. I actually tripped Haakon with it, though I made sure no one saw it. I also stabbed that gamrung in the eye with it, like I said.” 

“I see,” she whispered. “Can I touch it?” 

“By all means.” Matthias moved the tendril toward her. 

Carefully, she tapped it with a gauntleted finger. 

He giggled. “That tickles.” 

“I cannot believe this.” His mother shook her head. 

“Yeah, I can hardly believe it either.” Matthias slid the tendril back into his shadow. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?” 

She shook her head again. “I know nothing of such a thing, and if Altaizar doesn't either—” 

“I haven’t told him,” Matthias said. 

“You haven’t?” She looked at him in surprise. “Hmmm, perhaps that is wise, Matt. Better we should look into it quietly before too many people know…and both Altaizar and his mother have had contact with your father in the past. I am sure Eaderic would love to use your foray into ‘witchcraft’ as an excuse to harm you and your brother, and take your sister from us. I will try to learn what I can; we must know what this means for you. Oh, and now that you have come into power, I would like to personally train you.” 

“Wait, what?” he gasped. He would love to learn to fight from Beggahasta Stonebreaker, a warrior whose name was feared through much of the realm when she was younger. Before duty had tied her down. “Really?” 

“Yes. You will still go to Sur Friya some of the time, but there are things I can teach you that she can’t: techniques that would have been useless to you before you Awoke to a pillar of power. But, now, they will be useful.” 

“You’re the best, mother!” he cried, getting excited.  

“Alright, enough of this. Come. Let’s go home…there’s more to think about, and we should tell Bregindoure about your victory and celebrate.” She turned, walking back to the path leading toward their home. “I shot a fine, fat buck on the way to Barrowgate. He will be our celebratory feast. Oh, and I should warn you of something.” 

“Another warning, mother?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “A demonic beast has slipped through the barrier just to the south of the Vein of the Mountain, and we could not track it yet. It’s dangerous, so guard yourself when you’re walking in the woods. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it will be deadly for one such as you, one just starting their journey to power.” 

“Understood…what sort of demonic beast is it?” He looked down at the gauntlets he’d won from Haakon. They were untested, for now. He wanted to rectify that soon. “Is it something that has a lot of value?” 

“It’s a tiger from the Wolfwood transformed by Divine Breath, dangerous, but still young: there will be value in its claws, bones, some of its organs and pelt. Its soul-core as well. Why do you ask?” 

“It could fill our coffers, couldn’t it?” 

She frowned, deep in thought. “Probably, and I’d like to track it down…but we’re not sure what deity’s power has infested it, only that it proved frustrating to find. It also has followers and enjoys torturing its victims; we could tell by the condition of the bodies we found.” 

“Torturing its victims…” he murmured. 

Putting down a valuable demonic beast that tortures people was something that was filling him with excitement. 

What was there not to like? 

“We should hunt it together,” he suggested. “I can help you now.” 

She paused, considering him. “Yes. Perhaps you could. You have grown stronger, after all, but I’m not sure it’d be a good idea to have you come along so early in your journey. Let me think on it. If there were more than just the two of us, I’d feel more comfortable.” 

“Mother, if I have my way, there’ll be three of us.” he said, his voice filled with determination.  

“No, Dagma is too young, and Sur Friya is too busy. There’s no way—” 

“No, not them. Mother, I am going to find a way to free Bregindoure.” 

She gave him a long look. “That is not your responsibility.” 

“I think it is, and I’d do it anyway.” 

Beggahasta Stonebreaker smiled at him. “You know, after all you have accomplished…I almost believe you.” 


###

Author's Note

Power Reveals is a concept I've heard about in a few different places, mostly from Robert Caro, who writes on power and its use in the world.

A quotation often attributed to him sticks with me:
"We're taught Lord Acton's axiom: all power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I believed that when I started these books, but I don't believe it's always true any more. Power doesn't always corrupt. Power can cleanse. What I believe is always true about power is that power always reveals."

While I don't think this is always true, I think this is absolutely fascinating when it comes to progression fantasy. Or hell, any fantasy that features someone becoming powerful. I often find myself questioning "Do I WANT this person to become powerful?"

Whether that answer is yes or no, as long as the answer is interesting to me, I lock in.