Barters and Goodbyes

“How can I sell what I don’t rightfully own?”

“You own it.”

“It belongs to the gods. I’m merely the vessel that is allowed to harness it for a few measly decades.”

“You sound like a Vif’ute shaman.”

Gy’pen rolled his eyes. “I’m not any stinking shaman. I’m just telling you like it is. I can’t barter my soul for such a thing. There has to be something else.”

Fortoo, a heavyset magi-physician, puffed his cheeks up and pretended to contemplate other scenarios while looking at the ground but Gy’pen knew that the greedy man would always come back to a barter of souls. Hygrens always do.

But I don’t think I can live without my brother.

Emotionally.

Literally.

While it was true that Gy’pen wasn’t a devout Vif’ute, he had been raised into the faith. A firm root of the religion dictated that twins like Gy’pen and J’k’pen were supposed to have their life energies synced. The death of one was said to cause the death of the other.

Gy’pen knew that his brother had been living with Wantigian’s for a very long time but only in these presumed final hours did he put any stock in what the shamans had said years ago. Gy’pen’s insides had been shaking with the terror that he might not only lose J’k’pen but his own life as well.

And then Fortoo showed up.

Gy’pen usually avoided Hygrens because of their tendencies to smell but Fortoo had promised a solution for the incurable disease. The large man first coated J’k’pen in what he called “salty healing oils” but they didn’t do anything and J’k’pen had already been unconscious by that point.

After the oils, Fortoo said several obscure prayers: some in Tukep, most in Far Helasim, and one that Gy’pen believed to be an honest bout of gibberish.

When J’k’pen didn’t jump out of the bed and hoot for a decent meal, the magi-physician took Gy’pen to the side and laid out the soul-selling idea. When Gy’pen refused to change his mind, Fortoo left the room for several minutes. He looked at J’k’pen’s pale face and said, “What is it with Hygrens and their fascination with souls?”

“Because the ones they own are too small to fill their heavy bodies, Gy.”

Gy’pen was startled by the sound and fell to floor. He got up and looked to where the voice had come from, only to feel a cold shiver course his spine and stab his gut.

J’k’pen was standing at the foot of his own bed, ethereal-like.

The sight pleased and scared Gy’pen and he immediately asked the specter if it was a true sight. “It is, Gy. Wantigian’s has won out. It can have my body. I’ll be returning to Vif shortly.”

Gy’pen wanted to asked his next question but it never stepped off his tongue. J’k’pen had obviously known what it was since they were twins and had been told all their lives that they were set to die the same day, at Vif’s will. “You won’t be coming with me, Gy. But I suppose I’ll be back in some body or other, down the road. If the shamans were right about anything, that is.”

“I’ll be looking, Jay,” was all he could get out as relief flooded his heart. He then felt terrible to be feeling so good when his brother was about to cross into the eternality of Vif’ju, the soul space. “I—I don’t know what else to say, Jay.”

J’k’pen smiled. “Nothing to say. And you were right not to give up your soul to that Hygren. I’ve been living with Wantigian’s for far too long to adapt back into a normal life anyways, Gy. I’ve been ready for this for quite some time.”

His brother then looked behind him as if he heard something that Gy’pen couldn’t. “Time to go, Gy. Been quite a life.”

Gy’pen only nodded and he finally realized that tears had welled up in his eyes: they fell down to smatter the sheets. Before he could say anything else, J’k’pen’s specter vanished and Gy’pen turned to look down at the corpse his brother left behind.

As expected, the body’s eyes opened almost violently and Gy’pen jumped up, swearing for thinking he had more time for condolences before the Will of Burrl took over. He wielded his axe while the body threw itself from the bed and writhed on the floor. He knew he should’ve taken this time to cut off the head but he was stilled, the tinges of a faith long left behind tickling his mind and emotions.

My brother is dead but what if the energies are in the body, like some shamans speculate? What if I cut off his head and my own becomes severed as well?

At that moment, Fortoo came back into the room, shouting “What is all the ruckus? Have I actually cured…?” His throat closed at the sight of the body and he looked at Gy’pen with an air of expectance. “Well?”

Gy’pen looked quickly at the Hygren. “Well what?”

“You gonna cut its head off or you gonna make an old, fat man do it?”

He started shaking inside again and before he knew it, the body stood itself and lunged at him. Gy’pen shrieked and Fortoo left the room in a dash.

Wrestling with the body, Gy’pen finally pushed the corpse to the ground and brought his axe down in a quick but nasty manner. It took several blows but the head was severed with a pool of amber blood quickly filling the room.

Fortoo came back in wielding a small pastry knife. He looked at the beheaded corpse, amazed. “You’re not dead.”

Gy’pen brushed his free hand against his body. “Appears so.”

“What will you be doing now?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know?”

The Hygren smiled widely. “And how’s the state of your soul?”

Gy’pen rolled his eyes and brushed past the man to leave the mess for someone else to clean up.



Word Count: 1000