Chapter 6: Human Nature

Human Nature

 

Logan once again awoke to a splitting headache. However, this time he immediately forced his brain into overdrive. ‘Was that real?’ was all Logan could think. He could still remember everything about the Void, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t just some hot air his brain had cooked up.

 

Unfortunately, being able to see the tendrils that were his soul, with his eyes closed, confirmed it. Uh oh.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Watch your tongue lad.” Old Jeremiah loomed huge over Logan from across the room, his 7 foot frame and broad shoulders making the small cottage look like a hobbit’s home. And just like the greatest sorcerer of those films, he had silver hair. Except, Old Jeremiah’s hair appeared to be actual silver, a full head of strangely metallic strands. Logan had never seen it in the daylight and he had not noticed.

 

“Ye finally noticed, did ye, lad?” Jeremiah looked inquisitive, whilst somewhat wistful.

 

“Yeah man, having a full head of hair at your age is mighty impressive.”

 

Old Jeremiah was taken aback, shock written clearly on his face. Which, Logan thought, was surprisingly expressive for looking like a mountain side made of flesh. What was less surprising was that Logan could see the naruto swirl beneath the old man’s navel without focusing now. 

 

That must be his soul. Am I even human anymore, with my soul twisted like this?

 

Logan waved a hand in front of his face to prove to himself he was in fact still a human. To add insult to injury some of Logan’s wispy soul tendrils waved in sync as if they were miming his motions, as Old Jeremiah finally belted out a resonant, but surprisingly high pitched laugh.

“Ask yer real question there, Logan.”

 

The use of his name brought Logan’s head from his musings. So far, Logan couldn’t remember the old man using his name, instead calling him ‘lad’ and ‘sirrah’, the latter Logan didn’t even know the meaning of, but assumed it was similar enough to the former. His wisecrack must have won him some points in Jeremiah’s book.

 

“Jeremiah, why does your hair look like a nice pocket watch?”

 

“Not quite sure why yer pocket would need to be watched, but it is true, I am a descendant of Svell.” The old man’s tone conveyed that he thought this meant volumes. Which, considering that Jeremiah was the one who was native, it likely did. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he supposed for the old man, Logan didn’t have a clue what that meant.

 

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me there. What does that have to do with your hair, exactly?” Logan hoped this was an innocuous question, as he didn’t know yet if he wanted to let on he was from another world. In the stories he had read, telling people you come from an alternate reality, and then having them learn science was a surefire hack. Now that he was living that fantasy out however, social normalities stood in the way of just explaining to the massive old man that Logan was essentially an alien.

 

Thankfully, it seems like it was innocent enough. “Ah, I sometimes forget the young ones don’t know. Natives of Svell are of mixed heritage, some with other sentient blood, some with Beast blood.”

 

“Beast?! Really?”

 

“Yes, it was a gift of the Goddess of Life. Many subraces have been made throughout the Ages. I myself have the blood of elves in me, although I have not met a single of my ancestors.”

 

Oh thank god, that is not where my mind went.

 

Logan let out a breath and smiled at the man. Old Jeremiah had been nothing but kind to him so far, a point that Logan was becoming acutely aware of. He really needed to find some ways to pay him back…

 

“If ye don’t mind, I would like to ask ye a question as well, lad.” Old Jeremiah returned what could pass for a grin, in the loosest sense.

 

“Who are ya? Do ye, perchance work for a Noble?”

 

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“Ah, no, definitely not.”

 

The breath went out of the old man in a sigh. “Then lad, if ye want to stay here to recuperate, you'll have to work.” This the old man said with a much wider smile, all of his yellowed teeth showing. Logan shivered.

Heading out the door of Jeremiah’s cottage, the old man led Logan over a ways, almost a dozen yards, just to the edge of the Inaug Forest. Here, Jeremiah stopped before stomping his right foot three times. He then crossed his arms, and turned to face Logan without saying a word.

 

So both men just stood there, facing each other. Logan was determined not to put his foot in his mouth, and he really had no idea what was happening. The old man had simply repeated that he intended to put Logan to ‘work’ when asked, and had left it at that. Eventually, though, Logan hoped something would happen. Watching Jeremiah’s soul spin in place was making him increasingly uncomfortable.

 

Old Jeremiah simply stood there, garnering all of Logan’s attention with sheer presence, at least, until the bear showed up. Now, Logan had never seen a bear in person, but for the bear to be 10 ft. at the shoulders struck him as abnormal. And an abnormally giant bear meant get the fuck out of dodge ASAP to Logan. Following his instincts, Logan backed away slowly while preparing to turn and run.

 

“Stop.” The old man said. Logan wasn’t sure how that was going to save them, but maybe bears here in Austen understood English. He wasn’t too keen for a conversation, however.

 

“Stop it, Logan.” Logan stumbled in place at the use of his name and half-turned back around. Amazingly, the bear had moved over next to Old Jeremiah, and sat down next to him. What made Logan stop running altogether however, was the bear’s soul.

 

Somehow, he could pick up the bear's intention simply by glancing at its core. Logan instinctively knew that this bear meant no harm. Logan could also tell the differences between the bear’s soul and Jeremiah’s with the two side by side. The bear, while clearly possessing a soul and some level of intelligence, could never become more than a bear. Sure, one day it might be truly mighty, and be capable of fighting an army to a stand still. But it would never stop to consider if it might have some other purpose in life, never desire to create art.

 

Which was a weird form of poetic irony, mostly because the person who could literally see that art was what made humans really human, had only made ‘art’ by vomiting onto his white sheets after a long night out. Logan didn’t think that was fair but it also made him realize something personally important.

 

Even if you weren’t 100% homo sapien, it didn’t really matter as long as you could act humane. Old Jeremiah himself wasn’t completely human, and despite being partially non-human the man had been nothing but kind to Logan, even if he was a little gruff. As long as he had the nature of a human Logan decided, even if his soul fell apart he could still be the same person as always. People talked about it all the time, so called ‘human perseverance’.

Logan finally started with “Why is there a bear here?” He was relatively calm now after learning he could immediately tell if the bear went hostile, but that still didn’t mean he wanted to be around when it inevitably would.

 

“I called this one here today to teach ye the ropes, he’s been my partner since he was just a cub.”

 

“How did you call him here? I didn’t see you do anything except stand menacingly.”

 

“What do ye mean lad? I just said the Beastie here is bonded to me. I can call him without a thought.”

 

Wait, was Old Jeremiah a druid? That would explain why he lived alone on the edge of a massive forest at his age. Wicked.

 

“Can you call on his power then?”

 

The old man gave Logan a strange look, before answering, “...Yes lad, I can.”

 

“That’s so cool, do you have to shout like, ‘Bear Claw’ or something like that, or is it one of those things where suddenly your enemies are all like ‘He suddenly gained the strength of ten men!’ or maybe…” Logan trailed off as the realization he had been rambling hit him. “Or maybe it’s your business, my bad.”

 

Old Jeremiah was simply smiling though. Perhaps the warmest smile Logan could imagine him forming was plastered all over his crag-like face. Logan didn’t know  what he had said to make the man so happy, but he would take the small victories.

 

“Aye lad, I do shout BEAR CLAW!” he shouted with a laugh in his huge voice, and with that swept his left arm down in a lazy motion. In a swirl of energies, a 12 foot long bear claw burst into existence and followed the motion, grazing in front of Logan’s nose, and tearing a few handspan wide seams into the Earth inches from his toes.

 

That was when Logan learned that Old Jeremiah’s sense of humor was lethal. For him, at least.

 

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