Emika Grows

“Can I take another shower the day of the transport?” Emika asked on the way back to her cell, as innocently as possible. “If that’s okay? I thought about it, and I think I’m starting to look forward to that new place you talked about. I would like to feel good going there.”

It was a weak excuse, but Emika had to try. She stared into Maxime’s pensive eyes, giving the best impression she could of what amounted in her mind to a ‘sheepish’ look. Could this even possibly work?

And then, Maxime smiled. The guy actually smiled. Well, there’s that. Maybe he was happy at her accepting her fate. She smiled back.

“Sure. Today went really well. I don’t see why not,” he replied.

“Thank you very much.”

With that, she went back into her cell and waited until he left.

Emika now had almost two full days at full vigor to practice her newfound power. And then, she’d be able to replenish her water reserves with another long and comfy shower session. Life was good. Amazing, even. And soon, she’d get to see Melisande again.

She already smugly imagined herself, after having broken out of this place, running to Melisande’s home, and surprising her with a visit, saying, “Let’s get out of here!”

Of course, she was aware that she couldn’t make the choice for Melisande, but maybe, maybe Melisande actually wanted to meet her too. Possibly, even run off together. Where, Emika didn’t know. Perhaps back to her home. Or somewhere else entirely. That would all be too good to be true, and yet, she couldn’t help herself daydreaming about it.

But for now, it was time to make sure she’d not mess this all up. It was time to practice her imagination and to reliably form herself to what she had in mind.

The first thing she tried was creating small, detailed growths. Like making new fingers on her wooden hand and practising certain movements. She also tested out how far her growths could go. The answer was: pretty darn far. She managed to push a single branch out in spirals around her to what surely amounted to a dozen metres. The further out it went, the thicker the base of the branch would become, with its tip generally staying the size she had initially imagined it.

Crucially, she could only grow from places where it had already broken her skin. Her severed arm was her best place to grow from as it provided the most space, but there were more openings on her back, on her stomach and thigh and other places she’d been shot through, and a few smaller places where she’d been injured before.

After getting the hang of it, she had an easier and easier time envisioning herself in complex three-dimensional shapes of tree structures. All those years of looking at material trees and imagining what they could eventually look like after being wired now paid off with her curse too.

Being wired…

That thought made her raise an eyebrow. When creating a bonsai tree, she’d use wires to force branches into specific forms. Wasn’t that… something she could use?

The mage ghost had called it a cognition.

TreEs don’t move, he had said.

Except, he was wrong. They could move. When forced to by a strong wire.

With this kind of cognition, maybe she’d be able to move her branches. That is, if she could get it to work within two days.

And then, after those two days of gruelling, self-imposed training, she was utterly spent. She’d decided to rest for the last few hours before Maxime would fetch her for the second shower, to regain some mental energy before her escape. She felt that she was pretty good at using her imagination, but it was still a draining process, and she’d probably lost all her water again, trying to grow and degrow time after time, after time.

There were two skills she had practised more than any other — one was a sudden burst of condensed, large chunk of wood, like the base of a trunk. She thought it could be used to block attacks and defend her own body. Definitely, she didn’t want to suddenly be cut in half where she was still soft and squishy.

The other part was that she needed a way to attack in surprise and at long distance. If she was going to fight Maxime, she required a way to beat him. Which, in other words, probably meant a way to kill him. Going for anything less against a guy who’d shot her several times seemed dangerous.

Maxime was immune to her curse, but presumably not immune to physical damage, so if she could lash out with a piercing, sudden growth and poke his liver, he’d bleed out. She’d had that idea before, but it was a bit of a random thought just for show, because Emika wasn’t actually aware of where people carried their livers. Or their hearts, or other important organs for that matter.

The point was; she had to deal a kind of damage that could eventually kill him. And she needed ways to stall. Both of these things she thought she could now potentially do.

This plan being all set and ready, she finally filled her water back up again in the shower, and was escorted back to her cell like last time.

“The transfer will happen in a few hours. Get some rest. I don’t know what time zone they currently have.”

“Okay. I will. Thank you,” said Emika.

“We won’t see each other again,” he started, provoking Emika to raise an eyebrow, “So let me just tell you this. I’m sorry you only got to see the bad sides of my hospitality. It’s necessary to be wary in this line of work. To put some interests below others. Even if it’s not ideal.”

“No hard feelings,” she lied. “But, why won’t we see each other again?”

“You’ll see. Goodbye, Emika.”

With a smile on his face, he nodded and turned away. 

Emika stared at his back as he ascended the stairs, frowning. Well, that was ominous. Either way, it was time to get out. She made sure to wait until he was long gone because she didn’t know how much noise her escape would make. She knew the layout well enough by now to confidently say that no rooms in the immediate surroundings were such that he’d go and spend time there; if anything, his workplaces were probably on the other end of the building. Still, that’s where the exit was, so she needed to go past there too.

A few minutes went by until she stepped in front of the cell bars and closed her eyes, envisioning a massive burst of deadwood, vegetation, and juniper branches beaming out from her. And then, it happened.

The cell door was crushed away in a tsunami of wood flowing out, clanking and, bending as the metal stood no chance at the sheer natural power.

Looking down at the devastation she had caused and the roots and deadwood spilling out from her towards the exit, Emika had never felt so accomplished. Maybe, if she had racked her brain, she could have figured a way to break out in a less destructive manner, but there was little joy in leaving this place without causing massive damage.

Her bare feet quietly tapped over the stone floor, all the while the noise of her break-out still rung in her ears like a magnum opus.

Tip, tap. She went up the stairs, through the corridor. She wondered how much wood there was inside her. Her feet were silent and soft, but they carried weight. It was the best feeling in the world, having legs so strong they could carry the brimming vegetation inside her.

She wondered what it was that enabled them — but she had a guess, considering her cracking joints in her knees by now felt like aching wood.

As she stepped through the corridors, she took a cursory look into each room. In one, she found a computer, so she destroyed it by strangling it with a branch like a boa constrictor, the sound of it breaking muted by countless small juniper needles wrapping it up.  She went into another room and found a few metal instruments, scrolls and magical ingredients, all of which she turned useless — be it through bending casings by wedging growing branches between the openings, or having roots take hold inside them until the breaking point, or straight up smashing them with a heavy twig whip.

All she had to do was think them gone, and they’d be made gone by her curse. Still, it took effort. Mental drain, and she felt that using her curse in this way used up resources inside her, although it was much too early to really tell what it entailed. Water, for one. But, were there other things she needed? That she unconsciously craved?

Phosphorus? Nitrate? Potassium, too…

There were many things plants needed to grow, none of which she currently had access to in large quantities. She wondered if eating some fertilizer would make her stronger. In fact, she could try rooting somewhere when she was outside. Maybe it would help.

And yet, she hesitated when she walked past a room close to the exit and heard Maxime’s voice inside.

He was talking. Probably on the phone, as there were pauses with no audible replies.

Emika approached the door as closely as she could to listen in.

“Yeah. Yes, I understand. Thank you. I’ll get back to you. I have another few calls to make first.”

He stopped talking, but soon after, he started a new conversation.

“Hello Amagdala. I’m glad you could make the time.”

A moment passed, then he said, “No, it’s okay. I wanted to inform you of some developments. Concerning one of the magical beings that I’m currently taking care of. As I understand, that being is related to you. My notes say to keep you informed. I trust you’ve had contact with my father?”

On one hand, Emika wanted to leave. This was the perfect moment. On the other hand, strangely, something kept her listening. And then, her eyes widened.

“Yes. Melisande. That’s correct. The truth is, she has escaped from her home. This breaches the contract she has formed with our family to keep her and others safe. As such, I wanted to inform you that I will give chase and destroy her. Is there anything you would like to share with me before I do?”