Life and Her Teacher by Alex Wright

Life and her teacher

By: Alex Wright

A giant sits at a grand stone table in what would otherwise be an unimpressive wooden home. The quick, heavy breaths escaping his long white beard suggests he’s tired. There is a low rumbling behind his large stone belt begging for a meal several days overdue. The open bay window to his left lets in a soft breeze which carries the comfort of the mountain air he’s come to enjoy. Before him is an empty mug. He shifts his attention to a clamoring in

the next room. Out walks a small gnome with skinny metal legs. Her right arm is covered by a large iron gauntlet and her left eye is a spherical crystal, partially encased in steel. Various wires run across and under her loose leather apron, which covers grease-stained clothes. In her left hand, she carries a tray with a teapot and a cup.

“So, you’ve come to my home after all this time and you won’t even teach me something new?” she asks. “Some god of knowledge you are.”

“Ha, it is good to see you, sister,” he responds.

She sets the tray down on the table, fills the giant’s mug before hers, and sits down on the chair across the table from him. She takes a sip of her tea and looks up at him. He studies her peculiar prosthetics and frowns.

“It was Bliss, wasn’t it?” he asks before finally picking up his steaming mug.

“Who else?” she replies, taking another quick sip.

“Quite fair,” he laughs. “You, too, have always had a bit of a rivalry, I suppose.”

“It comes with the job.”

The giant peers into the next room. From where he is sitting, he sees a lavish workshop filled with many metal skeletons, all in various stages of construction, and glowing crystals scattered around the room. Pulsating tubes run along the walls to a blue light deeper within the room. He makes out faces within the tubes. Happy, sad, even terrified expressions flow through toward the blue light. The giant takes another sip of his tea.

“Tell me, Duella, why these metal creations and not flesh? Surely as the god of life you can reserve his actions.”

The gnome takes another sip from her cup and sighs.

“Life is a blessing,” she begins, “and one that I hold very dear. Yet, with that blessing there is a curse. Death. All must live through this cycle. Bliss holds death very dear to himself and decided to lay that curse upon me, as it is his nature. I cannot give life to what has died. That goes against everything I stand for. Yet, like you, I cannot die. Not fully. Parts decayed, but I remained. Anything I did to bring them back would simply wither away by morning. So, I adopted metal working and gave it life.”

“But, dearest sister, you know we can die. We are simply too stubborn to do it so willingly. That is why we have followers, who are learners of our craft, so that they may take up after us when we pass.”

“Oh Vakt, dearest brother, you are the teacher here. I simply do. Besides, Bliss would not allow for a new rival.

“And he has agency over you now?”

Duella laughs, sets her tea down, and drops a sugar cube in the cup. With a soft smile, she stirs it carefully and stares into the swirling liquid. She taps her spoon on the side of the cup to shake off excess water and sets it back down on the tray. She sits back in her chair and takes another sip.

“Well, what of you, brother?” she asks. “You were kept caged and tortured for millennia and yet here you sit at my table. Where were your students? Why did you not give in to his curse, hmm?”

“You know my students died out years ago. Surely you saw them come right through your tubes,” he replies, pointing to the next room. “And, as I said, we are stubborn. I am no exception.”

“Ah, do as I say, not as I do, hmm?”

“Maybe you are the teacher here. Not me,” Vakt laughs. “I am but a humble forger.”

“Yet you create life.”

“They can be one and the same.”

Vakt looks back to the workshop. The subtle pulsing of the crystals makes a breeze that catches his beard waving in a strange and pleasant dance. When the breeze dies off, his beard lies still. He takes another sip.

“Your new hobby has become your job?”

Duella smiles. She stands and rushes to the workshop. Vakt hears the rustling of metal scrap in a drawer. She comes rushing back to the table and sets down a small metal man, no more than five inches tall. She stands him upright and taps the tiny red crystal imbedded in its chest and it starts to glow. The little man springs to life. Its head darts around the room until it sees the giant sitting at the other end of the table. Its head rises to meet Vakt’s eyes. It waves happily to him.

“I’ve been experimenting. Bliss can only decay flesh to steal souls. He has no power over metal. All I had to do was figure out how to make a soul work with a metal body.”

“Does it have a name?”

“I think his name was Arle in his past life as a servant.”

“So, no?”

Duella looks over at the giant, confused.

“Well, I suppose I would just call him Arle,” she says.

“You gave life to that which cannot have it naturally and didn’t even bother to disassociate the soul with its past life?” he asks, studying the tiny metal man. “Does that not go against what you believe in?”

“Metals are elements of the earth, brother. I’m sure in your travels, you have spoken to earth elementals, yes? Do they not have life?”

“I suppose they do.”

“Then I stand by my beliefs. And don’t worry, these creations still die as normal,

mostly. They have an internal clock built in— when it’s counted down, the unit opens and releases the soul back to me, naturally. He can’t abuse his powers to hoard these souls from me any longer. Names mean little in the grand scheme of things.”

“This all seems too impersonal, too mechanical, even if they are fully sentient.”

“That’s the point.”

“Is it? You talk of an abuse of power yet sit here toying with the idea of life itself as if it were your play-thing.”

“You dare walk into my domain after all this time and criticize me?”

“I’m saying this because I’m worried about you. There is no point to life if it’s set on a timer.”

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a point when there’s no timer at all,” she says.

“Perhaps death is the actual blessing here,” he replies.

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Duella says as she forcefully sets her cup back down, spilling her tea a little. She stands from the table again, beckoning her little creation to follow her.

“I’m going back to work,” she says. “Your dinner will be ready shortly. Please do make yourself at home.” She walks toward her workshop and Vakt can feel the breeze blow through his beard again. He takes a deep breath.

“Sister,” he says, looking down at his emptied cup. She stops and turns to him. “You have become too attached to your creations.”

“Excuse me?” she begins.

“You have taken up the role of the god of life and the god of death. Life is not so simple that you can put it on a rail, pick it up when it falls off the end, and place it back at the start. Souls are more aware than you give them credit for.”

“He makes them suffer, Vakt,” her voice quivers.

“As do you. You made diseases too, yes?”

“They are living creatures too.”

“Living creatures that thrive off the suffering of your other creations—man or animal. What of that cycle now that you’ve made man unkillable?”

“They’re better off. He was overstepping his role! Killing them personally, not simply collecting.”

“You’ve overstepped your role now. He’s made you break the cycle.”

Vakt stands from his chair and gingerly walks toward the little gnome like a frail old man. He leans down closer to her and reaches out with something between his thumb and index finger. She reaches to meet his hand and he places the little metal man in her palm. She stares at it with a long silence.

“Vetni,” she finally says. “His name is Vetni.”

“Ah, I did teach you something after all,” he smiles. “Now, I smell a roast that I must tend to.”

Vakt straightens out and shuffles to the kitchen next to the workshop. Duella stays behind and admires her work. Vetni stands within her palm and she picks curiously at the glowing red crystal within his chest. It begins pulsating, a quick flash which slowly subsides and repeats over and over, not unlike a heartbeat. She smiles and holds him closer to her as she walks over to the door frame and pops her head into the kitchen to witness Vakt bring the roast out of the fire.

“It was nice talking with you again. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Aye, glad to be back.”