3.4 - Givessar

     Estra crouched on the edge of Lake Haste, resting her chin on her knees. She extended her hand and channeled a fraction of her Givessar, barely recognizable in her body. A slight prickling along her arm and a brief pull in her chest. A globe of water the size of a melon rose out of Lake Haste, billowing in the air but holding its shape. Manipulation of water at this level was easy for any Vessaler. The more advanced uses were what taxed the body. This was as dehydrating as a small cup of coffee, and only if she held it for a long time. The water dripped down into the lake below, desperately struggling against her force to return to its source. 

She looked closer at the globe and realized that something was inside of it. Swirling around the edges was a two-headed fish, fins briefly breaking the surfaces. The fins, bright orange like a setting sun, wavered on each side of it and along its midnight-black back was a ridged spine. Its two heads moved back and forth in unison. It was cautiously but quickly defining the new boundaries it found itself confined to. Each time a fin would break the surface on one side of the globe, the fish would pull it back close to its body and push across to the opposite side. With each movement, it grew more frantic. Estra lowered her hand and carefully merged the globe with the surface of the lake, feeling her Givessar inside like a thin string, tied on one end to the Givessar of the lake and on the other to the core of her being. With the power of Lake Haste, it was the equivalent of a pebble tied to an entire mountain. As soon as the bottom of the globe touched the water, the fish dove, disappearing into the depths.

Estra stretched out her legs and propped herself up with her arms on the sand behind her. The warm water lapped at her feet. It would be warm for another few weeks. Then the winter chill would begin to set in and the glassy surface would be dotted with thin slices of ice, floating about like loose scales from some great beast. Professor Nuren would begin his classes on channeling Givessar through ice, and a half a dozen students would drop out after feeling the cold in their veins for the first time. It happened the same way every year. It wasn’t so much the feeling. Granted, Vessaling with ice as your source was remarkably uncomfortable, but not enough to give up entirely. It was more so that a movement as delicate as mentally merging water from your own body with that of a foreign pool was incomprehensible from a teaching standpoint, which resulted in eager students investing too much of themselves in one pull of their Givessar. A slight over-investment could be quarts of water difference, perhaps not as noticeable when the water isn’t freezing. It served as an unspoken test for Vessalers, one that no professor could properly prepare them for. Estra had passed her test the year before, but only barely. Even the thought of Vessaling nearly frozen water gave her entire body chills. For now, it was warm, and that was all that mattered. 

She stared at her legs. They were stick-thin and too long for anyone’s good. The same went for her arms, bony, and unmanageable as they were. She felt lanker than a frog, and just about as charming. Even her fingers, digging into the sand around them, were bony and thin and long like gnarled roots growing away from a thousand-year-old tree. She had them covered with rings, and ink from the tattooist who lived on the other side of Lake Haste, a full two day’s journey across, and even longer were you to go around. 

There wasn’t much else to do for those studying Vessaling. Of the ten professors, six of them were out on commissions at all times, three were teaching the younger students, and the other was in charge of the veterans. The gap between younger students and veterans was as wide as Lake Haste is deep; however, and Estra was desperate to be across it. Half of the young students hadn’t even awoken their Givessar yet. She was one task away from becoming a veteran but had long since outpaced the other students, so half of Professor Nuren’s classes were not applicable to her skill level. Those classes were considered free time for students that had moved beyond them. 

“There you are.” Den plopped down on the sand next to her and laid flat on his back with his hands behind his head, tangled in his long black hair. He looked at her with one green eye while the other was closed to the setting sun. The tattoo on his cheek was still swollen and healing, but it already suited him. A vase with semi-circles on each side. Every student to pass their veteran exam was given one. It prevented rogue Vessalers from taking on commissions or otherwise staining the reputation of the college, although Estra had never heard of nor seen a rogue Vessaler. “You nervous for tomorrow?” 

“Not nervous, just eager for it to be over,” Estra said. At long last, Professor Nuren had made time for her final exam. Den had passed his the week before. “Any pointers?” 

Den turned away and closed both his eyes. 

“No,” he said. Estra waited for a followup comment, but he remained silent. 

“Okay,” she said. The shift in tone was immediate and palpable, but not entirely unusual for them. Their friendship was one of intensity. It had been romantic, at one point, but not any longer. Now it was friendly and comfortable, except for when it wasn’t. There were shifts, as heavy as the plates of the earth, seemingly at random between the two of them. They were equally guilty as if it was a balancing act. For every sudden emotional swing, another was warranted back, and so forth. Distancing, sudden silences, outbursts, they were masters of them all. Laced between those moments was a years-long friendship closer than most would ever be. They had learned to live with it. 

“It’s hard,” he said, breaking the silence. “Harder than I expected it to be.” 

“Good, I haven’t had to challenge my Givessar in what feels like years,” Estra said. 

“That’s not what I mean,” he responded. “It isn’t necessarily difficult from a technical standpoint. I...I shouldn’t say anything else. You’ll see what I mean tomorrow.” 

Estra looked at him, but he wouldn’t make eye contact. She could still see it in his face. A look she had seen before, and not one she expected to see now. Heartbreak. She felt a prickling in her chest again and turned back to the lake. At Den’s feet, he was shaping a small cyclone on the surface of the water. Sensing someone else Vessaling was rare, but not unheard of. It only happens when two Vessalers were bonded in some way. The cyclone churned and splashed, tossing water across the otherwise calm surface around it. 

“Was it just you and Professor Nuren?” Estra asked watching the funnel spin rapidly. Den was channeling more of his Givessar than he should be, which wasn’t uncommon for him. He always struggled with keeping his emotions in check. It was the primary reason their relationship hadn’t lasted. He was never violent, or abusive, just disconnected. He was subservient to his emotions, and they so rarely sought to serve Estra. He needed someone willing, or more able, to weather the swings of his passions. She had long ago given up on the hope that he would one day learn to master them. Beneath them, however, was a truly kind and intelligent human being.  

“No, there was another veteran with us, as well as Professor Belaru,” he said. “I didn’t recognize the other veteran.” 

He paused for a moment, and the cyclone dissipated into mist. 

“I asked Professor Nuren if I could be the veteran that comes along for your exam and he approved.” 

“Thank you,” Estra said. “I’ll feel more comfortable with you there.” 

He scrambled to his feet and dusted off his pants. 

“Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Estra watched him walk off towards campus. Suddenly, she was far more nervous about tomorrow. It wasn’t like Den to bottle things in. Quite the opposite in fact. Whatever he was keeping from her was clearly more than he was prepared to handle. She looked back at the lake where Den had been spinning his cyclone. The water was still, and on the surface was a midnight-black fish with golden fins, floating belly up. 

Estra sat in the back seat of a white four-door pickup truck that Professor Belaru owned. He was driving, with Professor Nuren in the passenger seat, and Den in the back with Estra. Professor Belaru was a middle-aged man, who seemed to wear his age like a carefully crafted outfit. Everything about him showed it but in what seemed to be an intentional way. His hair was graying in sharp, organized patterns. His skin was marked but clean like a well-worn jacket, and he moved with slow but deliberate movements. He had a presence about him that seemed impossibly centered and practiced. 

Professor Nuren, on the other hand, was the definition of chaos. His long hair tangled and frequently caught on his glasses, which he was constantly adjusting. If Estra’s arms and legs were too long, Professor Nuren was on the other side of the spectrum, with arms and legs scrunched close to his body. Where Professor Belaru’s movements were deliberate, Professor Nuren’s seemed almost comically uncontrolled. He scratched and anxiously moved about in his seat, rolling his window down and up and back down again, running his hand over his stubbled chin, and shifting his weight from left to right and right to left. Estra was used to it, but it seemed even more noticeable today.

The car ride had begun with small talk amongst the four of them but after forty-five minutes, that well had dried up. A tense quiet settled over them, particularly Den. Estra could feel him on the other side of the backseat like she could feel the pressure of water boiling in a teapot. It always manifested a back strain, as if her Givessar was pushing back from her core and compressing her spine. She reached a hand across the seat and placed it on his. When he turned away from the window to look at her, she lowered her eyebrows and tilted her head in an attempt to ask if he was okay without breaking the silence. He forced a smile and gave her half a nod, then turned back to the window, but didn’t pull his hand away. For the next ten minutes, the silence continued, and Estra left her hand on his. Why did it feel like she was taking him to his exam and not the other way around? 

“There it is.” Professor Belaru broke the silence as the truck cleared the woods they had been in for the past twenty minutes. The road curved towards a lake. It was large, but not nearly the size of Lake Haste. The far side of it was visible from the road they were on. A body of water like this served as a font of power for Vessalers. Vessaling without a source was dangerous and in some cases, deadly. It was possible to manipulate moisture, and even the water inside of another human, but without a font to supplement your Givessar it would rapidly dehydrate you. Luckily the bigger and healthier a source, the farther away a Vessaler could be to pull from it. This lake should be large enough for Estra to feel it in her Givessar from at least a mile or two away, and yet, she felt the thinnest pull, barely enough to channel anything. 

“Why is it so weak?” She asked. 

“That’s why we’re here,” Professor Nuren said. 

Her exam was to revitalize the natural Givessar of a body of water? Her breath caught in her chest. Was that even possible? If she was being asked to do it, it must be. Unless this was some sort of a test. Perhaps they wanted her to push herself too far, only to scold her for it. It could be restraint, not raw power they were looking for. Maybe there was another font of energy close by that she could link with the lake. It was tremendously tedious to link the Givessar of two bodies of water, but not impossible. It involved gently manipulating springs of energy through the earth from one to the other. The truck ground to a stop on a gravel turnoff, and Professor Belaru shut off the engine. 

“Alright, everybody out,” he said, as he methodically cranked the window up. Before Estra could even unbuckle her seat belt, Den was out of the car and walking towards the edge of the water. None of the possibilities spinning around in her head explained Den’s behavior unless he was somehow embarrassed but still passed. It led her to believe that it was some sort of exploration of a Vessaler’s restraint, but perhaps his show of strength was still enough to pass him? Speculation wouldn’t do her much good now, it was better to see for herself. She took a few long, deliberate breaths, then opened her door and got out. 

Professor Nuren had followed quickly after Den, but Professor Belaru waited outside of the truck for Estra. His hands were in his pockets, and he was leaning against the tailgate. He was looking forward, but not at the road, or the trees beyond it. His eyes were looking straight down, dazed, half shuttered beneath his eyelids. He swallowed hard, and fully closed his eyes, then opened them and turned his gaze to her. 

“You will be asked to do something here, that you will not be prepared for,” he said. “Know that it is for the greater good. For all of us, and for all of your classmates, and friends like Den. This isn’t new, or radical. We have always done it, as Vessalers. It is how we survive. Take comfort in the fact that we have all been where you are now. We have struggled through this exam, and come out better on the other side. Professor Nuren, myself, and Den. All of us have been in your shoes. I have no doubt that you will excel, and join the ranks of the veterans. Professor Nuren considers you his best student, you know.”

She knew. Everyone knew that. Professor Nuren was as subtle as a sledgehammer when it came to personal preferences. It didn’t make her feel any better. Her subtle tension built into a tsunami of anxiety, bowling over any defenses she had in place. If Professor Belaru was trying to make her feel better, it certainly wasn’t working. This appeal to her, done as a general would to a soldier before a battle where he would surely die, was not comforting, nor was it a rousing call to action. Even he didn’t seem to fully believe it. He stood stiff, unmoving, pale brown eyes locked with hers, betraying ever so slightly a look of sorrow. 

“Professor, with all due respect, you are extraordinarily bad at this,” she said. “Is this exam going to kill me? Because that’s the sentiment you are putting forth, albeit unintentionally, I think.” 

“No, of course not,” he said, followed by a sigh. “I’m sorry Estra. This will be easier once you are clear on the exam itself. Just promise me that you will remember we are here for each other, and that each Vessaler must stand for the others.” 

“Okay, Professor. I promise,” she said. 

He seemed satisfied and nodded, then motioned for her to follow him towards the water. Professor Nuren was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, and Den was crouched by the water, slowly running a hand back and forth over the surface. As they reached the water, Estra could feel the Givessar of the lake, practically whimpering. It was a small, pitiful thing, like a child compared to that of Lake Haste. Even pulling from it would be difficult, as there was hardly anything there, to begin with. Surely, something was terribly wrong in the heart of the lake. 

“Estra, you have excelled mightily in my class through the past few years,” Professor Nuren spoke up. His voice was sharp and direct, the inverse of his disheveled appearance. A flock of birds vacated a tree nearby at the sudden noise. “I am pleased to finally deliver this veteran exam to you, which I have no doubt you will pass with flying colors. Vessalers have served as a bastion of power and stability for this nation much longer than any of us here have lived and will continue to do so after we pass. We are an invaluable tool to governments in need, and cities desperate for aid. Not only do we provide clean wells for towns on the periphery, facilitate proper sanitation and water management for larger cities, and redirect harmful acts of nature away from our vulnerable populations, but we stand as a powerful military force to be used in the direst circumstances. The reason we are able to accomplish so much is because of the structure and policies of our college. Without it, the community of Vessalers would descend into utter chaos and anarchy. Like builders without a blueprint, our gifts would go to waste, and our nation would suffer for it. As I know you have sensed, the Givessar of this body of water is feeble. However, as you may not know, the Givessar within a body of water is what births this gift inside of us. We foster it from there, but it must always be planted inside of us from the natural world. Of course, that is where the danger comes in. The power the college has would quickly diminish if anyone could become a Vessaler.”

It suddenly became clear to Estra why she was here, and what she was being asked to do. She looked at Den, unwilling to accept that he had chosen this path. He wouldn’t look at her. As her anger grew, she could feel her Givessar growing more and more active. She could feel the Givessar of the lake, and that of Den which was frantic and near erupting despite his passivity, she could feel the moisture in the soil at her feet, she could feel flecks of water in the clouds overhead, building to a storm. The water in her body grew warmer and surged forward like the tide coming in. She tightened her fists to hold her position. 

“We are a crucial resource to Vessalers, and we cannot allow our gift to infect the world, and go untaught. This is what the majority of your time as a veteran will be spent doing. Keeping Givessar of the natural world in check, to maintain the health of Vessalers as an organization. Now, channel your Givessar with the lake, and take its power within yourself. To take in this much, even as weak as this one is, will be difficult to contain, but the power it brings will permanently improve your abilities. I think you will find the feeling quite intoxicating. Whenever you are ready, you may proceed.” 

Den continued to look out over the lake, while the two professors stood and stared at Estra. A torrent of thoughts flooded her mind, but one pushed itself to the surface above the rest. She realized that she had never spoken with, or met a Vessaler who had failed their veteran exam. There were those like Den who returned to the college and continued training until they were called out on a mission, and then there were the rest of them. Those who the professors either claimed to have passed and were immediately sent out, or those who they sent home. There were no second chances, with the veteran exam, and now Estra understood why. They weren’t a college, they were the mob. The tattoo given to veterans wasn’t an identification of college-trained Vessalers, it was a brand of ownership. Her ability to restrain her Givessar was weakening.

“Be careful Estra,” Professor Belaru said. His words no longer seemed to be words of concern, but words of subtle threat. “Remember what you promised.” 

“Den, look at me,” she said, ignoring the professor. Hesitantly, Den turned his head and looked up at her. 

“You did this?” she asked. “You weakened it like this?” 

“Yes,” he said. The word struck her as if she was Vessaling ice. “I couldn’t take all of it, it was too much. That’s why they need you to finish it. Estra the power is unbelievable. I feel like my Givessar has finally awakened. We were children before. But, this is something new. Besides, the professor is right. Not just anyone should be able to wield this. The nation would crumble. They need us to stand above.” 

Estra held back the myriad insults that flooded her mind. Den was lost to power. He blindly regurgitated the paper-thin reasoning of the oppressors flanking them, like the gatekeepers they fancied themselves to be. She wondered if these great sentinels of men would give her a proper burial when she refused, or if they would dump her body in the woods with all the other failed students. 

“What happens to the lake?” she asked. She was buying time, but they didn’t seem to care. 

“The Givessar is choked of life and shrivels up, along with most life within the body of water,” Professor Belaru said. “In time, it will regrow, as nature is wont to do. Then we will return and trim it again.” 

“How long does it take for a Givessar to regrow?” she asked. 

“In a body of water this size...one hundred years give or take,” Professor Belaru said. “We have been doing this for a very long time, Estra. It is nothing new.” 

Kill a body of water for one hundred years, or die. That seemed to be the buffet of options offered up to Estra. But there was one more option. An option the professors surely hadn’t considered. It would be difficult, and no one present would enjoy it, but it was the only real choice she had. Estra reached into Den and grasped his Givessar. The professors didn’t notice anything, but Den looked shocked. If she was careful, she could drain his Givessar without killing him, and turn that power on the professors. It was an ugly plan that would result in Estra becoming a murderer, and Den losing his ability to Vessal for some time. She wasn’t sure how long. Potentially the rest of his life. It was also a flawed plan. Den was overflowing with power, and if he so chose, he could sever the pull that Estra had established. In doing so, he would more than likely cripple her, if not killing her outright. She would not allow him to be a passive observer in this. He looked at her, pleading. He was holding tight to his Givessar, but he hadn’t made a move to sever the bond yet. The power was slowly leaking over to her, drop by drop. There was a sudden surge within him as if he was preparing to cut the bond, and Estra closed her eyes and took what she thought might be her last breath. Then, he dropped his defenses. The power of his Givessar flooded through the pull, into hers. She looked at him, still crouching there in front of the lake. 

“You’ve always been stronger, Estra,” he said. 

“She is lost. Do it Belaru,” Professor Nuren said, and nodded to the other professor. Professor Belaru raised a hand towards Estra, and she felt the moisture leave her mouth and her eyes dry out and begin to sting. She reached within her Givessar and fully embraced the power she had taken from Den. The surge bounced Professor Balaru out, and then she turned it on him. His scream was dry and cracked, like the claw of some great beast scratching across a desert cliffside. In an instant, his skin became wrinkled parchment, flaking off in the wind. Estra felt the last bit of moisture inside of him fade and immediately turned her power on Professor Nuren, who she had been holding at bay. He suffered the same grim fate as his colleague, crumbling to a pile of bones and dried organs. Estra looked away from both bodies. She couldn’t think about what she had done. Not yet. 

She walked to the edge of the lake and put a hand on Den’s shoulder. At first, she tried to channel a fraction of her power, just enough to restore some of his Givessar. His Givessar wasn’t just empty, it was cracked open. It would take years to repair the damage of channeling away that much power in such a small span of time. Instead, with her other hand, she spent nearly ten minutes carefully channeling the power she had taken from Den back into the Givessar of the lake. Suddenly, what was a whimper became a roar, as the lake blossomed back to life.

“What now?” Den asked. 

“The college will come for us,” Estra said. “You can stay. Say that I manipulated you, and killed the professors. I don’t want to drag you-” 

“I’m coming with you,” he interrupted. “Besides, what would the college want with a Vessaler who has a broken Givessar?” 

She nodded. 

“We’re going to have to go into hiding, for a while. After that, we can begin.” 

He stood up, slowly. Losing his center of power clearly had physical ramifications.

“Begin what?” 

“Dismantling the college, and giving Vessaling back to the world,” Estra said.