Vasher raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps. Dangerous though.”
“Why?”
“Get the rope back.”
Vivenna paused, realizing that the rope had twisted around branches that were too high for her to reach. She hopped up, trying to grab it.
“I prefer to use a longer rope,” Vasher said, raising Nightblood by the blade and using its hooked crossguard to pull the branches down. “If you always keep hold of one end, then you don’t have to worry about it getting taken from you. Plus, you can Awaken when you need to, rather than leaving a bunch of Breath locked into a rope that you may or may not need.”
Vivenna nodded, recovering her Breath from the rope.
“Come on,” he said, walking back toward the room. “You’ve made enough of a spectacle for one day.”
Vivenna followed, noticing that several people on the street had stopped to watch her. “How did they notice?” she asked. “I wasn’t that obvious about what I was doing.”
Vasher snorted. “And how many people in T’Telir walk around in grey clothing?”
Vivenna blushed as she followed Vasher into the cramped room. He set down his pack and then leaned Nightblood against one wall. Vivenna eyed the sword. She still wasn’t certain what to make of the weapon. She felt a little nauseated every time she looked at it, and the memory of how violently sick she’d felt when touching it was still fresh.
Plus there had been that voice in her head. Had she really heard it? Vasher had been characteristically tight-lipped when she’d asked about it, rebuffing her questions.
“Aren’t you an Idrian?” Vasher asked, drawing her attention as he settled down.
“Last I checked,” she replied.
“You seem oddly fascinated with Awakening for a follower of Austre.” He spoke with eyes closed as he rested his head against the door.
“I’m not a very good Idrian,” she said, sitting down. “Not anymore. I might as well learn to use what I have.”
Vasher nodded. “Good enough. I’ve never really understood why Austrism suddenly turned its back on Awakening.”
“Suddenly?”
He nodded, eyes still closed. “Wasn’t like that before the Manywar.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he said.
He often spoke that way, mentioning things that seemed farfetched to her, yet saying them as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. No conjecture. No wavering. As if he knew everything. She could see why it was sometimes hard for him to get along with people.
“Anyway,” Vasher said, opening his eyes. “Did you eat all of that squid?”
She nodded. “Is that what that was?”
“Yes,” he said, opening his pack, getting out another dried chunk of meat. He held it up. “Want more?”
She felt sick. “No, thank you.”
He paused, noticing the look in her eyes. “What? Did I give you a bad piece?”
She shook her head.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I said it’s nothing.” She glanced away. “I just don’t care for fish very much.”
“You don’t?” he asked. “I’ve been feeding it to you for five days now.”
She nodded silently.
“You ate it every time.”
“I’m dependent upon you for food,” she said. “I don’t intend to complain about what you give me.”
He frowned, then took a bite of squid and began chewing. He still wore his torn, almost-ragged clothing, but Vivenna had now been around him enough to know that he kept it clean. He obviously had the resources to get new clothing, yet he chose to wear the worn and tattered things instead. He also wore the same half-scrub, half-beard on his face. It never seemed to get longer, yet she never saw him trim it or shave it. How did he manage to keep it just the right length? Was that intentional, or was she reading too much into it?
“You aren’t what I expected,” he said.
“I would have been,” she said. “A few weeks ago.”
“I doubt it,” he said, gnawing on his chunk of squid. “That tenacious spirit you’ve got doesn’t come from a few weeks on the streets. Neither does that sense of martyrdom.”
She met his eyes. “I want you to teach me more about Awakening.”
He shrugged. “What do you want to know?”
“I don’t even know how to answer that,” she said. “Denth taught me a few Commands, but that was the same day that you took me captive.”
Vasher nodded. They sat silent for a few minutes.
“Well?” she finally asked. “Are you going to say anything?”
“I’m thinking,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow.
He scowled. “Awakening is something I’ve done for a very, very long time. I always have trouble trying to explain it. Don’t rush me.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Take your time.”
He shot her a glance. “Don’t patronize me either.”
“I’m not patronizing; I’m being polite.”
“Well next time, be polite with less condescension in your voice,” he said.
Condescension? she thought. I wasn’t condescending! She eyed him as he sat, chewing on his dried squid. The more time she spent with him, the less frightening she found him, but the more frustrating. He is a dangerous man, she reminded herself. He has left corpses strewn all over the city, using that sword of his to make people slaughter each other.
She’d considered running from him on several occasions, but had eventually decided that she’d be a fool to do so. She could find no fault in his efforts to stop the war, and his solemn promise in the basement that first day still stuck with her. She believed him. Hesitantly.
She just intended to keep her eyes open a little wider from now on.
“All right,” he said. “I guess this is for the best. I’m getting tired of you walking around with that bright aura of yours that you can’t even use.”
“Well?”
“Well, I think we should start with theory,” he said. “There are four kinds of BioChromatic entities. The first, and most spectacular, are the Returned. They’re called gods here in Hallandren, but I’d rather call them Spontaneous Sentient BioChromatic Manifestations in a Deceased Host. What is odd about them is that they’re the only naturally occurring BioChromatic entity, which is theoretically the explanation for why they can’t use or bestow their BioChromatic Investiture. Of course, the fact is that every living being is born with a certain BioChromatic Investiture. This could also explain why Type Ones retain sentience.”
Vivenna blinked. That wasn’t what she had been expecting.
“You’re more interested in Type Two and Type Three entities,” Vasher continued. “Type Two being Mindless Manifestations in a Deceased Host. They are cheap to make, even with awkward Commands. This is per the Law of BioChromatic Parallelism: the closer a host is to a living shape and form, the easier it is to Awaken. BioChroma is the power of life, and so it seeks patterns of life. That, however, leads us to another law—the Law of Comparability. It states that the amount of Breath required to Awaken something isn’t necessarily indicative of its power once Awakened. A piece of cloth cut into a square and a piece of cloth cut into the shape of a person will take very different amounts of Breath to Awaken, but will be essentially the same once they have been Invested.
“The explanation for this is simple. Some people think of Awakening as pouring water into a cup. You pour until the cup is filled, and then the object comes to life. This is a false analogy. Instead, think of Awakening as beating down a door. You pound and pound, and some doors are easier to open than others, but once they’re open, they do about the same thing.”
He glanced at her. “Understand?”
“Uh . . .” she said. She’d spent her youth training with the tutors, but this was beyond even their methods of teaching. “It’s a little dense.”
“Well, do you want to learn or not?”
You asked me if I understood, she thought. And I answered. However, she didn’t voice her objections. Better for him to keep talking.
“Type Two BioChromatic entities,” he said, “are what people in Hallandren call Lifeless. They are different from Type One entities in several ways. Lifeless can be created at will, and require only a few Breaths to Awaken—anywhere between one and hundreds, depending on the Commands used—and they feed off of their own color when being Invested. They don’t present an aura when Awakened, but the Breath sustains them, keeping them from needing to eat. They can die, and need a special alcohol solution to remain functional past a few years of Awakened status. Because of their organic host, their Breath clings to the body, and cannot be withdrawn once Invested.”
“I know a little about them,” Vivenna said, “Denth and his team have a Lifeless.”
Vasher fell silent. “Yes,” he finally said. “I know.”
Vivenna frowned, noticing a strange look in his eyes. They sat silently for a few moments. “You were talking about Lifeless and their Commands?” she prompted.
Vasher nodded. “They need a Command to Awaken them, just like anything else. Even your religion teaches about Commands—it says that Austre is the one who Commands the Returned to come back.”
She nodded.
“Understanding the theory of Commands is tough. Look at Lifeless, for instance. It’s taken us centuries to discover the most efficient ways to bring a body to a Lifeless state. Even now, we’re not sure if we understand how it works. I guess this is the first thing I’d like to get across to you—that BioChroma is complicated, and we really don’t understand most of it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Just what I said,” Vasher replied, shrugging. “We don’t really know what we’re doing.”
“But you sound so technical and precise in your descriptions.”
“We’ve figured out some things,” he said. “But Awakeners really haven’t been around that long. The more you learn about BioChroma, the more you’ll realize that there are more things that we don’t know than there are things we do. Why are the specific Commands so important, and why do they have to be spoken in your native language? What brings Type One entities—Returned—back to life in the first place? Why are Lifeless so dull-minded, while Returned fully sentient?”
Vivenna nodded.
“Creating Type Three BioChromatic entities is what we traditionally call ‘Awakening,’” Vasher continued. “That’s when you create a BioChromatic manifestation in an organic host that is far removed from having been alive. Cloth works the best, though sticks, reeds, and other plant matter can be used.”
“What about bones?” Vivenna asked.
“They’re strange,” Vasher said. “They take far more Breath to awaken than a body held together with flesh and aren’t as flexible as something like cloth. Still, Breath will stick to them fairly easily, since they were once alive and maintain the form of a living thing.”